The Red Pearl

by C. K. Brooke

  “Don’t mention it.” His father cocked his wild-haired head. “Now, come. Let’s fix you kids some dinner.”

  ANTONIA STOOD ON THE FRONT porch, meditating beneath the evening sky. A mild wind meandered by, rippling the skirts of her frock and revealing fair calves. Meanwhile, her hair twirled in the breeze despite her immobile stance, as though containing a life of its own.

  “Haven’t I taught you that it’s impolite to ogle women?”

  Rob jolted. He’d been gazing through the kitchen window, and hadn’t realized his father coming to stand beside him. He cleared his throat, raising his coffee mug to his lips. “I wasn’t ogling.”

  Thad grinned knowingly. “You were clearly enjoying the view.”

  “What’s to enjoy?”

  “Come, now.” Thad lowered his voice. “I know you cared for Wen, son, but don’t surpass a good thing when it comes your way. I see the way Miss Korelli looks at you.”

  Rob squinted at him, incredulous. “The devil are you talking about?” He set his mug onto the counter, perhaps too forcefully. “The girl cannot stand me, Thad.”

  His father only shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Rob shook his head. The old man was turning batty.

  “Well.” Thad raised his arms overhead, suspenders stretching over his portly belly. “I’m turning in for the night. But by all means, you two stay up. I’m sure our guest is craving your attention.” With a tiny wink, he strode off, leaving Rob in the kitchen with Maverick.

  The dog bobbed its tail, sniffing the counter for crumbs, and Rob tossed him a biscuit. Making up his mind, he pressed through the front door, joining the girl on the porch. She was finishing her evening prayers, bringing her first two fingers to her brow. Serenely, she reopened her eyes.

  Neither spoke at first, listening to the chirps of crickets and the throaty belches of toads in the pond across the way. At last, Rob broke the silence. “So. You ready to hit the road again tomorrow?”

  Her eyes dimmed. “I suppose.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  Antonia shrugged, watching the pulse of a firefly hovering before them. “I rather like it out here. Your father is very kind.”

  If by kind she meant crazy, then Rob would agree. He examined her, noting the distance in her expression. “How long has it been,” he asked, “since you last saw your own father?”

  She looked away, holding her breath.

  “Annie?”

  “Six years.”

  Rob frowned. “That’s an awfully long time.”

  She met his gaze, and he was surprised by the tears glistening on her lashes. “I know. Temple apprentices are forbidden to see their families until they’ve been initiated into the priestess-hood. It is the custom.”

  Rob fingered his collar. “Well, we could go and visit your parents sometime, if you’d like. I could…take you to them—”

  But she fretfully shook her head, startling him. “Nay,” she breathed, blue eyes wide. “My parents mustn’t ever know I’ve fled the temple!”

  “But won’t they eventually find out?” asked Rob, bemused. “When all the other apprentices are anointed, your family shall surely notice your absence among them.”

  “Then let them notice at that time,” Antonia insisted. “By then, I’ll be long since wed, off on a brave adventure with my noble knight.” Her expression sparkled at the thought. “Anyway. You are lucky to have a home and family to return to.”

  Rob snorted. “That’s generous of you, seeing as the place is a wreck these days. Trust me, things could’ve been a whole lot different for us.”

  The girl propped her elbows on the railing behind her. Rob couldn’t help but take in the outline of her figure against the glow of the low-hanging moon. “What do you mean?” she asked him.

  “It’s sort of a long story.” He sighed. “But we used to live in Innía City. That’s where I was raised. Thad owned a medical practice there, though he was always tinkering on the side. We were well-off, back then. And for all ten years of grammar school, I attended the Innía Institute for Boys.”

  Antonia looked impressed. “Really?”

  Rob smiled at the memory of his youth. “It was a great place for learning. Alas, I wasn’t the best pupil. Bit of a daydreamer.” He folded his arms, peering out to the woods. “It was there I met my best mate, Jules Adams. He’s the man you encountered the morning…well, the morning we met.”

  Antonia scrunched her brow.

  “Oh, Adams and I did everything together, every day devising games and scavenger hunts around town. Often, I’d get so caught up in our play, I’d neglect my schoolwork. Adams, on the other hand, was a far better student. I always had to copy his notes.” Rob chuckled humorlessly, recalling the shy, studious raven-haired boy alongside whom he’d grown up. Where had things ever gone wrong between them?

  He stepped closer until he stood adjacent to Antonia, their arms almost touching. “Well, we spent so much time together that, naturally, our fathers became friends, too. Emory Adams had my father’s dream job: an engineer. Thad had wanted to enter the profession himself, only his parents forced him into medicine.”

  Antonia nodded sympathetically.

  “Anyway, Thad came up with a clever invention. Yet, before he could patent it, Emory asked to borrow his prototype, only to turn around and tout it as his own.”

  The girl inhaled. “That is horrible.”

  Rob leaned against the rail. “Aye, and Thad took it quite hard. Especially when old Emory became quite a success. Never gave my father any credit, did he. And Thad had no way to prove the invention his.”

  “What was it?”

  Rob cocked his head. “Y’ever hear of those pocket watches that announce the time?”

  She gasped. “Your father invented the talking pocket watch?”

  Rob nodded. “Soon, everyone in Innía wanted one, until the product spread all over Otlantica. Emory Adams became a very wealthy man, indeed.”

  Antonia looked disgusted.

  “Eventually, my father sold his medical practice and moved out here to the sticks for an early retirement. He wants nothing more to do with city folk.”

  “I don’t blame him,” declared the girl, and for a moment, Rob could not help but appreciate her loyalty to his father.

  Feeling guilty, he looked away. “Meanwhile, I’d known what Emory had done, yet remained best mates with his son for years. And my parents never said a word to me against it.” He shook his head. “What a fool I’ve been.”

  Antonia’s voice was soft. “You are no fool.” She lifted her chin. “You were brave enough not to condemn a man for the deeds of his father. If anything, you showed great integrity, mercy to Jules. Though, unfortunately…” She faded, as they both knew which route Rob’s former friend had taken in the end.

  His chest constricted as he pondered not only Adams, but his now ex-girlfriend, Rowena. “Guess you can’t trust anyone in this world,” he muttered bitterly.

  Antonia looked somewhat pained by the proclamation, but did not argue.

  An owl hooted in the distance, and the man regained his senses. “Hey, it’s getting late, isn’t it?” He straightened. “I think we’d both better get some shut-eye. Big day ahead, and all.”

  She said nothing.

  “Do you remember where the guestroom is?”

  She nodded.

  “Right.” Rob made to turn. “‘Night, then.”

  “Robin?” Antonia watched him beneath the moonlight. “Did you carry me through the Greyer Woods, and rub aloe on my ciqédo bites?”

  His face burned, although he couldn’t fathom why. At any rate, he was glad for the darkness, which concealed it. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Well, yes.”

  With a gentle swish of her skirts, she came before him. To his utmost surprise, she leaned in and pecked him
on the cheek. His skin was still sensitive from his recent shave, unused to being exposed after so many weeks beneath a coarse beard.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She stepped past him and reentered the cabin, leaving Rob standing motionless behind her.

  ANTONIA COULD HAVE STOOD TO sleep in a while longer. But Robin and his father were already loading the horseless carriage with supplies at dawn, and she felt obligated to assist. After a hurried bath in the washroom, she changed back into Mrs. Watkins’s blue and white dress. She found Dr. Watkins in the guest chamber upon her return, stuffing the rest of the summer gowns into a valise.

  He inclined his head. “Good morning, Miss Korelli.”

  “Good morning, Doctor.”

  He held out the valise. “Please, take these for your journey.”

  She hesitated. It was his late wife’s wardrobe, after all. “You are certain?”

  “I’ve no use for them here.” He shrugged sadly. “Best they go to a maiden in need of them.”

  Antonia received the case. “I’ll take good care of them,” she avowed, just as Robin poked his auburn head through the doorway.

  “Good. You’re up,” was all he said to her, before marching up the front hall.

  Dr. Watkins shook his head. “It may not be evident, my dear, but I swear, his mother and I raised him with manners.”

  Antonia followed the men out to the shed, sidestepping Maverick, who wove excitedly between their legs. The carriage, parked on a dirt path, overflowed with bags of food the men had managed to scrounge together, and what looked like gardening tools. “Why do we need a shovel?” she asked, fingering the steely item curiously.

  “I’m on a hunt, Annie,” grunted Robin, his back to her as he rummaged through a cobwebby bag on the shed floor. “Ever heard of digging for buried treasure?”

  Antonia blinked. Buried treasure? But before she could inquire further, Robin issued a confused sound, and extracted a rusty pair of iron manacles. “Why on earth do you have these, Thad?”

  Dr. Watkins’s face lit up. “So that’s where those were hiding!”

  His son arched an eyebrow.

  “Your great grandfather, the constable, gave me those years ago.” He grinned. “Neat, aren’t they?”

  “Hmm.” Robin surveyed the wrist cuffs, opening and closing them. “Mind if I borrow them? Might come in handy.”

  His father shrugged. “Be my guest.”

  Antonia stepped back as Robin tossed the manacles into the carriage. They landed with a clang atop a crate of glass water bottles. “I think that’s enough supplies, Robin,” she decided.

  Surprisingly, the man did not argue, only rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his trousers.

  After adding the valise of summer gowns to the carriage, Antonia thanked Dr. Watkins again. He shook her hand, then embraced his son. At last, she, Robin and Maverick climbed into the horseless carriage, and Robin shoved the key into the ignition. The motor rumbled, vibrating beneath them, and Antonia gave a start. She’d watched the vehicle move the previous day, but hadn’t known what it felt like to ride inside, until then.

  Robin extended his foot to the pedal, and the carriage launched down the dirt path, heading west while the sun rose behind them. Antonia’s heart hammered as the wind rushed through her hair. The experience was both terrifying and exhilarating at once.

  Beside her, the black dog had no reservations, squinting against the racing breeze, its tongue lolling out the side of its muzzle. Antonia groaned with dismay as a trickle of drool issued down onto her skirts.

  She turned to Robin. “So, we’re headed to Axacola now?” She had to shout to be heard over the motor.

  “Aye,” he replied, just as loudly.

  “Then shouldn’t we go north,” she inquired, “where the road continues?”

  He shook his head, ochre hair flapping in the breeze. “With this thing,” he patted the steering wheel appreciatively, “we can shuttle straight through the Pirsi Desert!”

  Antonia felt a chill at these words. “I don’t know if driving through the desert is such a good idea, Rob…”

  But he only pointed to a rippling pond as they zoomed past. “Look, Annie, swans!”

  A bevy of swans indeed gathered there, luxurious wings flapping as they landed with grace into the water. Antonia was momentarily disarmed by their beauty, arching her neck to watch until she and Robin rounded the road’s bend.

  They drove through the day, stopping only briefly for lunch, and continued well into the afternoon. While at first, they’d conversed to pass the time, their voices were now tired from lifting over the chug of the motor, cheeks raw from the constant whip of wind in their faces, and Antonia’s spine felt stiff.

  “Evening approaches,” she warned her companion, indicating the oncoming sunset. “We won’t be able to see for much longer.”

  “I know.” Robin eyed the surrounding scenery. The trees had long since thinned out, the landscape becoming dustier and rockier by the mile. “I’d wager here’s as good a place as any to stop.”

  He parked the carriage. Antonia gasped as Maverick hopped over her in his haste to disembark, large padded paws launching off of her thighs.

  “Mav,” scolded Robin, hurrying down after him.

  Antonia was brushing the dirt from her skirts when the man opened the door for her. She glanced up, startled by the uncharacteristic act of chivalry. He offered a hand, and she took it, climbing down onto the rocky terrain.

  After drinking from their glass water bottles, Antonia went to fetch the canvas tent. But Robin merely shrugged. “We need not go through all that trouble out here. It’s a clear night; we could sleep beneath the stars.”

  Something about the way he suggested this, the unusual softness in his tone, made Antonia shiver. She knew she ought to decline, that spending another night in the tent by herself was only proper… Yet, she did not want to. Why, she wanted to sleep outdoors, she realized, a sense of adventure overtaking her. There was no need to continue sheltering herself. She was out of the temple, after all. “I…I’d like that,” she confessed.

  Did his expression brighten? “Good thing I brought a spare bedroll for you, then,” Robin grinned. He turned and rummaged through their supplies.

  Antonia followed him, bemused. “You did?”

  In response, he hoisted a large sleeping sack from the pile and unexpectedly tossed it at her.

  “Oof.” She caught it as it collided with her stomach. At once, she glared at him. “I am standing five feet away! You could have just handed it to me.”

  He only continued fishing through their supplies, and Antonia sighed, retreating across the sandy earth, the bundle tucked under her arm. After a minute, Robin joined her with his rucksack, finding his pace alongside her.

  “Sorry,” he chirped. “I was only checking to see how good of a catch you were.”

  Antonia nearly tripped over a rock. But before she could ask what the devil he meant by such a statement, Robin gripped her elbow, steadying her. “You all right?” he demanded.

  She nodded, meeting his eyes. Why, they were almost aquamarine in this light…

  “Jeez, Annie.” He turned away. “Watch where you’re going.”

  She could only trail after him, feeling strange as her elbow tingled where he’d grabbed it. “Erm, Robin?” She glanced around. “Is this the desert?”

  He strode ahead. “Outskirts of it, looks like.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe to sleep out here?” One look at the desolate landscape stretching before them, and she was having second thoughts. “Aren’t there…snakes and scorpions—?”

  His laughter interrupted her. “You sure like to worry.”

  Antonia bit her tongue. She was only trying to be wise. How foolish would they be to expose themselves to the dangers of the desert needlessly, when they’d a perfectly go
od tent in the carriage? But apparently, the man was unconcerned.

  They found a spot of ground that was as flat as they could hope for, and finally set down their baggage. Antonia unfurled her bedroll, and noticed a name embroidered across the pillow. “Miriam,” she read, curious.

  “That was my mother’s name.” To Antonia’s surprise, Robin chuckled. “She hated camping. Meanwhile, Thad and I loved it. He had that made for her, hoping a personalized bedroll might entice her to accompany us on a trip or two.”

  Antonia smiled gently. “Did it?”

  “No.” He laughed again. “Can’t you tell that thing’s never been slept in?”

  She examined the fabric. It did look quite fresh and unused.

  “Then again,” he added, “I guess she never really had the chance.”

  Antonia watched as he dragged his bedding alongside hers. Perhaps she ought not to ask. As though reading her thoughts, however, the man informed her: “Mum contracted a rare degenerative disease.”

  Antonia looked down. “I’m so sorry.”

  “At least she’s out of pain now.” He extracted a bowl from his rucksack, and proceeded to empty a bottle of water into it for Maverick. The dog drank thirstily, water droplets splaying every which way.

  The sun rolled westward still, dipping down beneath the distant mountain range and casting a striking bronze hue across the horizon. Antonia eyed the sprawling desert illuminated in a glare of gold, when a thought occurred to her. “Rob?”

  He rested on his elbows. “Mmm?”

  “Earlier, you mentioned something about…being on a hunt. Digging for buried treasure.” She picked at her sandal strap. “Does this have anything to do with the map we’re after?”

  He sighed, gazing into the sunset. “Yes, Annie. It has everything to do with the map we’re after.”

  Her heartbeat quickened. “It’s a map to buried treasure?”

  “To the buried treasure.” He faced her, looking quite serious. “Have you ever heard of the Red Pearl?”

  Antonia squinted. The name sounded vaguely familiar, conjuring notions of ancient queens in faraway lands to her mind. But she could not recall exactly what it was. “Refresh my memory,” she entreated him.