The Red Pearl

by C. K. Brooke

  The girl was about to leave, when an unexpected voice halted her. “Wait.”

  The women glanced up. Thaddeus Watkins’s gaze was fixated upon Marcella. “What are you planning to do with the pearl? Keep it for your own purse and exploit these youths’ efforts?” He gestured toward Robin and Antonia.

  Marcella lifted her chin. “Whatever my plan, it is none of your business.”

  Dr. Watkins broke into a slow, strange smile. “Ah, but I’m afraid,” he said, “that’s where you are wrong, Madame.”

  Robin and Antonia watched him, nonplussed.

  Dr. Watkins removed his spectacles. “You see, that artifact in your robes is this man’s rightful property.” He indicated Robin. “His mother was Miriam Ispynoza, the last female descendant of the royal family of Ancient Elphysia.”

  At this, the priestesses gasped. Antonia’s eyes shot to Robin, whose mouth fell agape.

  “As such,” Dr. Watkins continued, “he is heir to all assets that the last Elphysian Queen did not lose to the Torcs. Unless I am mistaken, that would include the Red Pearl.”

  Marcella’s nose twitched. “What proof have you?”

  “Proof?” The old man replaced his spectacles over his eyes. “Why, I’ve many records of his bloodline. Certificates of birth, certified family trees—”

  “And how viable are said records?”

  “Viable enough,” replied Dr. Watkins carefully, “to take to court.”

  Marcella swallowed.

  “If you wish to dispute me,” he added cheerfully, “I would be glad to send notice to my lawyers.”

  The High Priestess scowled. “Well, what of my statue?” she demanded. “Even if the pearl belongs to this young man, my sacred property has still been ruined. And I desire compensation.”

  “Actually,” countered Dr. Watkins, “it would be his property, as well. For, if I understand correctly, the bust was designed by the last Queen of Elphysia to explicitly serve as a container for the pearl. Thus would deem it, too, part of his inheritance. So you see,” he smirked, “you are owed no compensation.”

  Marcella’s features darkened. Antonia looked again to Robin. The man continued to stare at his father, stunned.

  Finally, Marcella nodded to the priestesses holding Antonia back. They released her, and she flew to Robin’s side. Instantly, he wrapped a protective arm around her.

  “I must pray on this,” announced Marcella. “Girls.” She beckoned her coven to the now empty altar. “Please wait in the vestibule,” she added coolly to Antonia, Robin and Dr. Watkins.

  Once in the privacy of the little room, Robin slammed the door, gazing at his father imploringly. “Thad, were you telling the truth?”

  Antonia watched with baited breath.

  Thaddeus Watkins smoothed his suspenders. “Well, the part about my lawyers was a lie.” He chuckled. “You know I don’t have lawyers.”

  “Thad.”

  “All right, all right.” Thaddeus Watkins held up his hands. “Yes, Rob.” He met his son’s eyes. “It’s true.”

  Antonia stared.

  “Why did you never tell me?” said Robin, incredulous.

  Dr. Watkins sighed. “Your mother never wanted you to know.”

  “Why not?”

  The older man dropped his voice. “Understand, Robin, she took a ship here from Elsland when she was a very young woman. Being former royalty, the Ispynozas had long been treated as something of a spectacle over there on the Great Continent. When the last of her family perished in the fever epidemic, leaving only her, she sought to escape her grief. Not to mention, she could no longer bear life in a land that knew her name, and was always publicizing her private affairs.” He shook his graying head, apologetic. “She begged me never to tell you.”

  Robin was speechless.

  “That’s why we always encouraged you to go after the pearl.” Thaddeus gave a small, sentimental smile. “Because it’s yours.”

  His son looked flabbergasted as the vestibule door reopened.

  Marcella headed the group, golden locks bobbing at her neck. “The goddess has spoken,” she declared. She took a breath, reaching into her robes. “And she affirms you speak the truth.”

  “Either that, or you don’t want a lawsuit,” the doctor muttered under his breath. Antonia fought back a smile.

  Fortunately, no one else had heard him. “In which case,” Marcella continued, extending a hand to Robin, “this belongs to you, sir.”

  Antonia’s heart thumped as they beheld the Red Pearl in the woman’s palm. It glittered enchantingly in the candlelight. Robin reached out, but the High Priestess closed her fingers over it.

  “I’ve only one condition,” she added tensely. “If you are who you claim to be, then your heritage will be made known. The newspapers shall surely clamor to announce the discovery of the last heir of the Ispynozas, and his remarkable reunion with one of the world’s most coveted treasures.

  “However,” she clutched the pearl more tightly still, “if the matter remains silent, I will know your tale was a lie.” She shot Dr. Watkins a warning glance. “In which case, I’ll not hesitate to report a detailed description of the three of you, and your theft, to the authorities.”

  “Deal,” said Robin.

  Marcella exhaled. Finally, she dropped the sphere into his upturned hand. He gazed down at it, awestruck.

  Dr. Watkins inclined his head. “Good evening, ladies,” he bade the priestesses pleasantly, opening the front door.

  “I will seek your portrait in the papers,” Marcella called after Robin.

  The man gave her an even look, pocketing the pearl. “You’ll find it,” he replied. Taking Antonia’s hand, he led her out of the temple.

  “I’M SORRY I STOLE YOUR horse, Dr. Watkins.”

  “Dear girl, I couldn’t be happier that you took him!” The old man laughed. “Though I’ll admit, we were rather worried to discover you missing this morning, and departed at once to find you. Thank the gods we arrived when we did.”

  Rob descended the temple steps in shock. He felt the weight of the pearl in his trouser pocket, solid and cool against his thigh. Returning to the horseless carriage, he was barely listening to his father and Antonia’s conversation.

  Without thinking, he applied his left shoulder muscles to climb into the vehicle, and gasped. He was so distracted, overcome by the evening’s events, he had nearly forgotten about his stitches.

  They drove to the spot where Antonia had tethered the horse, and Thad stepped out of the carriage. “Mind driving in my stead, Antonia?” He took the creature’s reins. “I’ll ride old Warner, here. We won’t be going far. It’s too dark to pass through the woods at this hour.”

  “We’re making camp, then?” The girl slid over to the driver’s side. “Is the tent still in back?”

  Rob nodded.

  The starlit drive up the road was a blur as the man withdrew the Red Pearl from his pocket and examined it in the moonlight. He checked his hands. No dye had leeched onto them. He brought the object to his teeth, and gently dragged it against them. Gritty. It was the real deal.

  Antonia beamed at him.

  His heart soaring, Rob smiled back.

  THE FRONT DOOR FLUNG OPEN. Rob and his father looked up from their coffee and tea as Antonia hurried inside with Maverick, the dog carrying a roll of papers in its mouth. The young woman’s cheeks glowed pink as she retrieved the paper from the animal and tossed it onto the table.

  “Front page!” She was breathless with excitement. “Again!”

  Rob leaned forward to meet yet another likeness of himself, prominently displayed on the cover. He’d always imagined enjoying such acclaim and recognition for his adventures. Yet, truth be told, he was beginning to find it rather disconcerting.

  He had only written to the press because of his agreement with the H
igh Priestess at the Temple of Azea. But the fame accompanying the pearl no longer drove Rob. In fact, it was starting to wear on him, his father’s once-private cabin now constantly bombarded with journalists, investors, and nosy onlookers of late.

  Neither did the fortune interest him, he’d begun to realize. For along his journey, the man had come across two irreplaceable things, which no amount of money could ever trump. The first was Antonia, and the incredible love they shared. And the second was the truth of his mother’s identity, Rob’s own bloodline. The fact that his ancestors were Ancient Elphysian royalty fascinated him. He wanted to study their history, learn everything he could about them.

  Not to mention, now that he knew the pearl was his rightful inheritance, he couldn’t bear to simply sell it off to the highest bidder. There had to be something better to do with it, a deeper purpose it could cultivate.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Thad sighed. “At this hour?” He checked his watch. “Don’t they know it’s teatime? I’ve not even tasted my scone yet.”

  “Probably another reporter hoping for an interview with our celebrity.” Antonia grinned, rubbing Rob’s back.

  Rob only looked down. “No more interviews, I think. I’ve done enough of those.”

  Leaving his father to deal with the press, lest they attempt to trap Rob into another endless conversation, he retreated to his bedroom. He missed the solitude of anonymity, the quiet pursuit of a secret dream, shared only between those most intimate to him.

  The man exhaled, lowering down onto the edge of his bed. From the nightstand, he lifted the pearl. For a while, he simply stared at it, reviewing his options in silence. If he sold it, he could ensure that his father remained cared for. Not to mention, he could purchase Antonia a particular sort of item, and take care of her for years to come, too…

  But was money really the answer? And to whom would the pearl go? Would its new owners care for it properly? Would they respect the artifact as Rob would, knowing it had belonged to the matriarchs in his family from generations past?

  By evening, he’d come to a decision. Missing Antonia, he rose, intending to find her, when someone knocked at his bedroom door. He opened it to find his father.

  “Got a moment?” Thad’s voice was low.

  “Er, yeah. But have you seen An—?”

  “In a minute.” His father pushed past him into the room, and closed the door. “I confess, your mother wasn’t buried wearing her wedding ring.” He fidgeted with his pocket. “I…er, kept it. To remember her by.”

  “Uh.” Rob blinked. “All right.”

  The old man sighed. “But I’m getting on in age and, well…” He extended a hand, offering Rob something small and shiny. “I think you ought to have it now. For safekeeping.” He cleared his throat. “Or if, well, there should ever be a future Mrs. Watkins...”

  Rob flushed, taking the hint. Touched, he received the ring from his father. “Are you certain?” he whispered.

  Thad nodded.

  Maverick began to bark, the noise reverberating through the rest of the cabin. Rob heard Antonia shushing him. But there only came more knocking at the front door.

  His father’s grin vanished. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

  Rob pocketed the wedding band and followed Thad out of the bedroom. His heart fluttered to see Antonia corralling Maverick into the kitchen with a biscuit. Of course, Rob had known for a while what he intended to ask the girl. But, only a moment ago was he granted a worthy piece of jewelry with which to—

  “No more interviews!” Thad shouted through the door. “The lad has already spoken his fill. Now, goodnight and begone!”

  But the knocking only persisted, causing Maverick to howl. Antonia glanced between the men, curious.

  Rob stomped to the door, and tugged it open. A tall figure stood on the porch, dressed in a fine midnight cloak and silk black top hat. Rob squinted up at him. He looked vaguely familiar.

  “Good evening,” the visitor greeted, mustache aflutter as he spoke. “I am sorry to intrude so late. But is this the residence of Dr. Thaddeus Watkins?”

  Though wary, Rob nodded. “Aye.”

  “Is he home, by chance?” The well-dressed man cast an uncertain glance into the cabin. “I’d like to speak with him. Otherwise, I can return…”

  “I am Thaddeus Watkins.” Thad stepped forward, eyeing the stranger. “How may I help you?”

  “Sir.” The fellow removed his hat, his bald crown gleaming under the moonlight. “I’ve been awaiting your correspondence. Forgive me, but when I failed to hear from you after many weeks, I decided to make the trip to Pangrove to see you in person.” He indicated Rob. “This is your son, if I recall? I asked him to pass along my card to you.”

  At the mention of his card, Rob finally remembered. It was the man who had come upon them in Pirsi City, marveling at the prototype. Rob had entirely forgotten the encounter. “Oh, yeah,” he muttered, digging into his pocket. But the card wasn’t there.

  “Your back pocket, Rob,” Antonia whispered.

  She was right. Reaching into his back pocket, he felt something thin and rectangular, and removed it. For the first time, Rob looked down at the winkled paper. His brow came together in confusion. “Was this your card?” He flashed it at the visitor. “It’s just an advertisement for the latest model of Santiago carriages.”

  The man blinked. “I am Salvador Santiago.”

  Rob and his father startled. “The Salvador Santiago?” gasped Rob.

  Mr. Santiago grinned. “There is no other.” He turned to Thad. “Dr. Watkins.” His expression grew suddenly serious. “When I came across your visionary invention in Pirsi City, I was intrigued. I confess, it has haunted my thoughts for weeks, months. I’ve been unable to remove the concept of the horseless carriage from my mind since the moment I beheld it. I simply had to meet with you, to discuss it.”

  Dr. Watkins only stared at him.

  “As you know,” Santiago continued, “my enterprise is the most prominent luxury carriage manufacturer in Otlantica. I believe your horseless carriage would make a stunning addition to the Santiago line, could even revolutionize the future of transportation as we know it. If you’re interested, I’d like to talk business with you. Perhaps we can strike a partnership?”

  Rob glanced at his father, who could barely speak for all of his stammering. Thaddeus Watkins stood back, holding the door wide open. “Please, c-come in, Mr. Santiago. Care for some toffee—I, I mean, tea or coffee?”

  The two men took their seats at the table, commencing their discussion. Antonia watched them, eyes alight.

  Rob slipped a hand into hers. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s leave the boys to talk shop.” He grinned. “There’s something I want to show you outside.”

  HIS MOUTH WAS AN OASIS in the desert, a stream of life-giving water, for which Antonia desperately thirsted. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart flittering in ecstasy, her spirits sailing on the four winds. “Yes,” she whispered. “Of course.”

  Smiling from ear to ear, Rob slid the delicate gold band onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. But even more perfect, Antonia realized, was the marquise stone that punctuated the ring. It was a clear, blue aquamarine.

  “Now every time I look upon it, I shall be reminded of your eyes.” She gazed up at him, taking his face between her hands. “Your breathtaking eyes.”

  He kissed her again, gathering her into his arms. For a time, they held each other beneath the moonlight, as crickets sang and toads bellowed from across the pond. After a while, they simply stared into the woods, arm-in-arm. Antonia could not recall a more joyous moment in all of her days.

  “Annie?” Rob stroked her hair. “I think I’ve decided what I want to do with the pearl. Only, I want the opinion of my bride-to-be.”

  She grinned, waiting.

  “It was your idea,
actually,” he admitted, “about the museum and the traveling exhibition, which inspired me. I think…we ought to loan the pearl out to museums around Otlantica, and beyond. It’s a valuable piece of Ancient Elphysian history, which can educate the public, and ensure the Ispynozas are not forgotten.

  “As for the proceeds,” he looked out to the trees, “we should donate the majority to benefit the poor of Axacola.” He shook his head. “There was so much poverty there. If we can do something to help…”

  “Rob.” She took his hands. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

  “Yeah?” He met her eyes, hopeful.

  She nodded, bringing her nose to his. “Yeah.”

  He pecked her on the cheek, and she giggled.

  “You know…” Antonia slipped her arm around his waist. “I’m sure we could squeeze in another adventure before the wedding. There may be other lost treasures still at large. Perhaps in your mother’s home country of Elsland, or up in the Halveas—?”

  Rob’s laughter interrupted her. “How I adore your spirit. But truly, I need not voyage up to the Halveas.” He encased her in his arms once more. “My next adventure, Antonia Korelli, is you.”

  THE END

  Axacola: AX-ah-COLE-ah

  Azea: Ay-ZAY-ah

  Elat: EE-lat

  Elphysia: Ell-FEE-ji-ah

  Innía: In-NEE-ah

  Korelli: Kor-ELL-ee

  Kubo: CUE-bow

  Ciqédo: Sih-KAY-doe

  Otlantica: Ott-LON-tick-ah

  Palomona: Pal-ah-MOE-nah

  Pirsi: PEER-see

  Shivana Azul: Shiv-ON-ah A-ZOOL

  Skarsköt: SKAR-skote

  Once again, to Juanita, Denise and Lyndsay: I couldn’t ask for better partners in creativity. I love working with Team 48fourteen! Thank you immensely for your efforts in bringing this manuscript to life. Cheers as well to two dear, lifelong friends: N. Wiltison and Addams S., for permitting me use variations of your names for my delightful villains.