Cutlass

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Cutlass Page 35

by T. M. Franklin


  “Curious,” she said, smiling at the familiar initials carved in the center. “It looks like a maze of some sort.”

  She ran her fingers over the raised areas on the platform, and indeed they did seem to be the walls of a maze. She ran her finger along the path, frowning as, time and again, she’d find herself blocked by a wall, or ending up back where she started.

  “What do you think it means?” she asked Jonathan.

  “Maybe we’re in the maze,” he suggested. “And this is a map.”

  “A mind for a map,” Rina mused.

  “But a map to where?” Charlotte frowned, leaning in for a better look. “It doesn’t seem to lead anywhere.”

  Jonathan examined it closely, looking up to compare it to the layout of the room. “Hutchins,” he ordered, pointing toward one of the doorways. “Try that one. Go left at the first fork, then right . . .” He squinted, following a path on the map. “Then right again. Come back and tell us what you find.” He turned to Crawley. “Take Ceron and try this other doorway.” He pointed out a path for them to follow, and the two set off with the other lantern. The rest of the group waited in the now dark room, the only sounds a faint dripping of water and their own breathing. Rina felt Jonathan’s fingers twine around her own and squeeze gently.

  After a few minutes, Hutchins reappeared in the same doorway he had disappeared through.

  “Well?” Jonathan said, eyeing each in turn. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Hutchins replied. “I followed your instructions, but it led me right back here.” The other two men returned a few minutes later with the same response.

  “That’s odd,” Jonathan muttered, turning back to examine the map of the maze again. “This map is all wrong. It’s like there’s a piece missing.”

  Rina bent to look closer, a twinge of excitement racing up her spine. “Or a gap,” she offered. “Cross the bridge to bridge the gap.”

  “But we already crossed the bridge,” Max pointed out, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

  “Or maybe Mellick was referring to something else altogether.”

  “The cross,” Jonathan said softly.

  “The cross.” She smiled widely. “I can’t believe we didn’t even consider it was part of the puzzle.”

  Jonathan quickly pulled the chest out of the oilskin bag and opened it to retrieve the carved wooden cross. He examined the engraving. “Seems so obvious now,” he said. “From the Gospel of Saint Matthew: If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.”

  “So what?” Hutchins asked. “Is it a key, like the locket?”

  “No . . . No, I don’t think so,” Jonathan murmured, turning the cross this way and that as he eyed the maze. “Cross the bridge to bridge the gap.” He slipped the cross into an empty space in the center of the maze, and it clicked softly.

  Rina grinned, tracing the newly revealed path with her finger. “That’s it! That’s the way to go!”

  “Aye,” Jonathan agreed, taking the lantern from Hutchins and studying the map carefully before leading them toward one of the tunnels. “Try to keep up, men. It looks like we’re almost there.”

  It only took a few more minutes for them to navigate their way out of the maze, and Jonathan couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

  They were close. He could feel it.

  But though it was exhilarating that they were closing in on the treasure, and he was grimly pleased he would finally get his vengeance against Kane, he also couldn’t deny a pang of loss at the thought.

  The reason walked right next to him.

  He knew with every step closer to the treasure, he was taking one farther away from Sarina.

  As if she knew his thoughts, she reached out at that moment to take his hand, and he slowed slightly to match her pace.

  “The cutlass has to be next,” she said, and Jonathan could hear the excitement in her voice.

  “Aye, there’s nothing else.”

  “How do you think we’ll need to use it?” She looked up at him, eyes wide and glimmering in the lantern light, and he couldn’t resist lifting her hand to his lips to plant a kiss on the back of it. He wondered what she saw in his expression that made her brow crease, and he forced a smile, unwilling to diminish her enthusiasm.

  “I’ve no idea,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  Sarina nodded, gripping his hand a little tighter as they rounded a corner and entered a cavern, one much larger than the last room. It was also lighter, and he could see why when he looked up to the soaring ceiling, which peaked at a large hole off to one side, open to the blue sky beyond. The floor was littered with rocks of various sizes. They stepped tentatively into the cavern, splitting up to wander around the huge area. Jonathan ran a hand along the cool stone wall, gaping up at the opening in the ceiling—perhaps a hundred feet up, maybe farther.

  “There’s no platform,” Sarina noted, indicating the center of the room.

  Jonathan nodded and walked across the room, kicking a rock across the dusty floor. “Search the walls and floor then,” he ordered. “There must be something here.”

  Max, naturally, began to throw rocks at the wall. At Jonathan’s wry glance, he shrugged. “It worked last time.”

  “I don’t know,” Ceron said as he ran his hand roughly over the wall. “It seems this Mellick of yours isn’t one to repeat himself. I’d doubt it’s to be so simple.”

  Max snorted. “There’s been nothing simple about any of this.”

  They continued in silence for a while, Max continuing to half-heartedly throw his rocks while the rest of the men examined the walls for any signs of a door or passageway. Other than the one they had come through, however, there didn’t appear to be one. Charlotte, meanwhile, took up residence under the hole in the ceiling, the light surrounding her with a diffuse glow. Her eyes were closed, and Jonathan assumed she was trying to access her gift. Everyone kept as quiet as possible to avoid distracting her.

  Sarina came to stand next to him in the center of the cavern. “Any thoughts?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted wryly. “Plenty. Nothing helpful, however.”

  She kicked at a rock and frowned as it bounced into another. “I keep thinking over the poem; the sword will lead the way. I just can’t figure out how it can lead us anywhere.” She kicked another rock.

  “Perhaps it’s another key?”

  “That would make sense, I suppose.” She kicked at another rock and winced when it didn’t move.

  “Are you all right, Smith?”

  She rubbed her toe on the calf of her other leg. “Yes. I just stubbed my toe.”

  “Need a kiss to make it better?” He winked.

  Sarina smirked. “Are you asking to kiss my toe?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Cheeky.”

  “Always.”

  She stretched out her foot to prod at the unmoving rock, then bent to examine it more closely. “That’s odd,” she said. “This rock has a crease in it.”

  “A crease?” He crouched next to her, brushing the dust off the rock to reveal a crack about four inches long. He looked up at her. “There’s more than a crease, Smith.”

  Sarina smiled when she saw what he meant, reaching down to trace over the now familiar engraving on the rock: S.A.M. “We’ve found it,” she murmured.

  “Aye, it appears so.” He retrieved the cutlass from the bag and removed it from its sheath. “Stay alert, everyone!” he called out as he stood. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen next.”

  The men gathered around, and Charlotte opened her eyes as Jonathan slowly slid the cutlass into the crack in the rock. It locked into place, sticking out about halfway, and Jonathan could tell the others were holding their breath as he was. He looked up, gaze darting around the cavern.

  “Well?” he muttered. “Come on, then.”

  The men turned to look for a newly revealed hidden doorway or trap door or anything,
but found nothing.

  “I don’t understand,” Sarina muttered, frowning in frustration. “Maybe you put it in wrong?”

  Jonathan removed the cutlass and tried re-inserting it the other way. It wouldn’t lock in, however. “No,” he said. “It has to be this way.” He replaced the cutlass again, wiggling it slightly for good measure.

  Charlotte stepped forward, eyes open but slightly glazed. “You have to wait,” she said quietly.

  Jonathan straightened, taking a step back from the sword. “Wait for what?”

  “It isn’t time yet,” Charlotte said, her voice a deep drone, and Jonathan realized she wasn’t looking at him, but seeing something else. “You must wait for the light.” She blinked several times and shuddered slightly, focusing completely on Jonathan.

  “What do you mean?” Sarina asked, touching Charlotte’s arm lightly. “Do you mean from the Scripture?” She pointed to the engraving around the hilt of the cutlass—And God said, Let there be light, and there was light.

  “I’m not certain,” Charlotte admitted. “I just know you have to wait for it. The light is . . . coming, somehow.” She looked up again, frowning at the hole overhead. “James, you said this island was thought to look like Erzulie Freda lying in the sea.”

  “Aye, that’s correct,” James replied.

  She pursed her lips, tapping them slightly for a moment before pointing at the ceiling. “And that peak. What part of the goddess do you imagine that would have represented?”

  James moved to stand next to her, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the hole. “Hard to say for sure. We’ve been going round and round in these tunnels so I’m not certain where exactly we are anymore.

  “There are three peaks on the island,” he explained. “One is said to be her knees, one her . . .” He coughed, glancing at her sidelong in embarrassment. “Err . . . her . . .” He held his hands in front of his chest.

  Charlotte smirked. “I get the idea.”

  “What’s the third?” Sarina asked.

  James cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling again. “Her mouth.”

  Sarina gawked at him, and Jonathan saw that Charlotte was doing the same—only not as much gawking as looking rather satisfied.

  “Or her kiss,” Charlotte said smugly.

  James looked at her in surprise. “I suppose.”

  By that time, all of the men had joined them in the center of the room, and as one they looked up as a flash of light appeared in the hole. The sun edged into the opening, dust motes appearing as its warm rays streamed into the room. The beam grew stronger as the sun moved and filled the opening. They moved back as the rays cut through the air of the cavern.

  “Seek Aphrodite’s kiss, whence light doth play,” Jonathan murmured, watching the beam as it moved ever so slowly across the floor. “And the sword will lead the way.”

  As if on cue, the light hit the cutlass, flashing bright as it slid slowly up the blade until it glinted against the sapphire in the hilt.

  “Look,” Sarina breathed.

  The sapphire focused the beam against a spot on the far wall of the cavern. Jonathan stalked over to the spot, touching it gingerly where the stone glowed with blue-tinted light. He pushed it with his fingertips and felt it give slightly.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered, pushing the spot harder. A rectangular block of stone, about the size of a brick, moved back into the wall, grinding a bit against its tight enclosure. Jonathan continued to push it until his arm disappeared up to his elbow. The sun moved past the opening in the ceiling and the cavern dimmed slightly.

  “Nothing’s happening,” Sarina said, moving to his side.

  “I think . . .” Jonathan groped around a bit and felt empty space on the left side of the hole. “There’s a gap back here,” he said. “I can’t reach in, though. It’s too tight.”

  “Let me try,” Sarina said, gripping his arm with excitement.

  Jonathan pulled his arm out and Sarina quickly reached in, her much smaller arm navigating the space easily.

  “Do you feel anything?”

  “Give me a moment.”

  “It’s to the left.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that, Jonathan. My arm is in the hole.”

  “Just trying to help, Smith.”

  “Well, stop trying, please.”

  A ripple of laughter had them both turning to glare at the group that had gathered around them. The men exchanged amused glances, ignoring Jonathan’s pointed look.

  “See?” Charlotte told Max. “They’re perfect together.”

  “If they don’t kill each other.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Jonathan snapped. “We’re attempting to find a treasure here.”

  Max held up his hands. “Apologies, Captain. Please, carry on.”

  Jonathan ignored the resulting snickers and turned back to Sarina.

  “I think I feel something,” she said, eyes squinting in concentration. “Yes. It’s a lever I think.”

  “Can you pull it?”

  “I’m trying,” she said through gritted teeth. “It seems to be a bit stuck.”

  “Come on, Smith,” Jonathan encouraged. “Put your back into it.”

  She glared at him, and Jonathan felt a smile quirk at his lips. Here she was, a proper lady, groveling around in caves in breeches and boots . . . groping into secret nooks and ready to take a sword—or a rum jug—and fight by his side.

  Charlotte was right. She was perfect for him.

  Good God, he loved her. And until that moment, he hadn’t realized exactly how much. The thought staggered him, and he almost reached out to take her in his arms in the heat of the moment.

  Then she squealed.

  “I’ve got it!”

  A loud click echoed through the cavern, and the adjacent wall began to shake. Sarina pulled her arm from the hole, stumbling slightly, and Jonathan caught her around the waist to steady her. They watched wide-eyed as a large section of the wall broke away, pivoting on a center point and swinging back to reveal a dark passageway beyond.

  “Well done, Smith,” he murmured into her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her neck. She gasped, and he couldn’t resist doing it again. Sarina wriggled out of his grasp but grabbed his arm to pull him along.

  “Come on, Captain,” she said with a sunny smile. “Let’s go see what we’ve found, shall we?”

  He laughed, following her to the opening, the men and Charlotte close behind them. They came to an abrupt stop at the stone door.

  “Lantern,” Jonathan ordered, holding out a hand. Jenkins passed it on without a word, taking the other from Crawley. Jonathan held the lantern aloft, reaching for Sarina’s hand as he stepped through the doorway.

  “Oh my,” Sarina whispered as they stepped into another cavern, roughly the size of the one they’d left behind. But where the first room was empty, save a creased rock in the center of the floor, this one was not.

  It was full.

  Of gold.

  Mounds of coins spilled from chests into piles on the floor, ropes of necklaces and bracelets twisted together among them. A pair of solid gold thrones sat against one wall, the tall backs carved with Aztec symbols and inlaid with gems in various colors, a golden mask lying on the seat of one of them. A low table sat next to the thrones, covered with more coins, and against the far wall, a golden statue standing on a rock platform kept watch over the treasure.

  A whoop of joy echoed through the chamber, quickly joined by others, and before long all of the men were dancing around the room, trying on necklaces and masks and dipping their fingers into the piles of coins before letting them clink back to the floor. Hutchins took a seat in one of the thrones, waving a golden scepter. Jenkins and Allegheny tossed coins to each other, trying to catch them in their pockets. Max slipped a golden chain with a large engraved pendant over Charlotte’s head and ducked in to kiss her lightly.

  Jonathan turned to find Sarina examining the statue—a man wearing a mask, sitting cross-
legged on a high golden platform. Jonathan noticed that other than the mask, he wore only a loincloth, his legs and chest both bare. He moved to Sarina’s side and slipped an arm around her waist.

  “Bit skinny, don’t you think?” he teased.

  Sarina giggled. “I’m simply admiring the workmanship.” She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling in the lantern light. “Can you believe we actually found it?”

  Jonathan sighed, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped her queue behind her ear. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Smith.”

  “Damned right you couldn’t.”

  “Such language, Miss Talbot!”

  Sarina tried to look affronted and failed, the smile forcing its way back almost immediately. She turned back to the statue, trailing a finger along the intricately carved platform as she slowly circled it. “So, how do you plan to get all of this out of here? Even though he’s skinny, I’m sure this fellow is pretty heavy—“ She gasped, stumbling backward as she reached the back of the platform.

  “What is it?” Jonathan hurried to her side.

  With a trembling finger, she pointed to the floor, and Jonathan grimaced at the sight before him. There, mixed in amongst the pile of coins and jewels, lay a human skull, jaw hanging open as the black hollows of its eyes stared sightlessly in their direction. Once he lifted the lantern, he could make out another skull . . . and another, the skeletons held together only by rotting scraps of clothing. He pulled Sarina toward him, turning her face into his chest.

  “Well, it seems this is where Mellick kept all his secrets,” he muttered, turning to lead her away from the gruesome sight and into the shadow of another smaller statue. Sarina looked pale, her eyes huge and shocked, and he gripped her shoulders, ducking down to meet her stricken gaze.

  “Buck up now, Smith. You’re not going to swoon on me again, are you?” His teasing words had a soft edge, made even more so by the finger he brushed across her clammy cheek.

  She swallowed visibly and took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders. “I’m not going to swoon.”

  He half-smiled. “Good, because it’s a long walk out of these caves, and I’d hate to strain my back carrying you.”

 

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