Hobgoblin Night: Mask and Dagger 2

by Teresa Edgerton

  Jed, who had answered the door in his shirt sleeves and corded silk waistcoat, slipped into his coat and straightened his neckcloth, assuming an air of great formality. Mr. Jonas came in through a side door, bearing the tea tray. Sera raised an inquiring eyebrow. With the presence of what could only be the gnome's best silver service, Jed's careful attention to his appearance, and the tingling air of suppressed excitement in the room, Sera began to believe that some extraordinary announcement was actually forthcoming.

  "Miss Winter, I suppose, was unable to accompany you?" asked Mr. Jonas, edging around the machine in the center of the room and arranging the tea things on a low table.

  Sammuel Digby Jonas, thought Sera, was a fine figure of a gnome. He had a broad, good-natured face framed by a handsome set of bristling red whiskers. Though standing rather less than three feet high, like most gnomes he possessed a great sense of his own dignity, as well as a magnificent pair of beautifully curved polished horns, which added immeasurably to his presence. Sera had never seen him but when he was dressed with quiet good taste—gnome fashion, in dark colors, with a tall stove-pipe hat cunningly designed to fit over his horns when he went out—but he almost invariably went barefoot. His feet were long, broad, and tough, equipped with massive ivory-tinted claws, admirably suited for digging and tunneling, which rendered boots or shoes uncomfortable and unnecessary.

  Sera offered Elsie's regrets, but the gnome waved them away. "It does not matter. Your brother—I suppose we must continue to call him your brother, even in private—pays such frequent visits to the Bullrush establishment, no doubt he has already acquainted her with some of the particulars."

  "As to that, if you mean that Jed is courting Elsie, he seems to be going about it in the most desultory fashion imaginable! Though I doubt that it was to discuss Jed and his matrimonial intentions that you have invited me here today," she added, ignoring Jed's indignant glare, and calmly accepting a delicate teacup and a plate filled with sugar cakes from the gnome. "So I wish you would tell me, without further preamble, what all of this means."

  "Very well, then," said Mr. Jonas, sitting down on a low stool, while Jed, rather huffily, deposited himself in a ladderback chair. "Though just where I ought to begin . . . perhaps with Lord Skelbrooke and his daring theft of the Duchess's magic parchment. Or with the intense excitement of our friends in Thornburg when he first gave the document into their keeping. They recognized it immediately, of course, for the manuscript had once fallen into their hands, very briefly, many years before. They knew that the parchment was more than it seemed, that besides the simple talismanic spell of protection which all could see, it also concealed a certain ancient spell of tremendous magnitude, written in secret writing. Yet for all their efforts, no one found the means to bring that greater spell to light. But I believe you knew some of this history already?"

  Despite herself, Sera felt a flicker of interest. "I did, but only a little. Pray continue."

  "With the greatest pleasure," said the gnome, as he poured a cup of tea for himself. "Well . . . you are certainly acquainted with the manner in which Mr. Owlfeather and Master Ule chose to convey the parchment to Nova Imbria, for you yourself were instrumental there, but perhaps you do not know that all these past weeks young Jedidiah and I have been engaged in an attempt to render the invisible characters visible, and so uncover the secret spell."

  "And a tedious long time we have been about it," put in Jed, ladling sugar into his own cup. He still remembered the old days, when money was short and sugar was dear, and it seemed he could never get enough sweets even in his new prosperity. "I suppose we tried every means known to Man, dwarf, or gnome, mostly without result. We examined the parchment by sunlight, by starlight, and by the light of the moon in all her phases. Then we bathed the parchment, successively, in vinegar, in wine, and in seawater, subjected it to heat and smoke. Growing more audacious, we treated it with salts and acids, but still without any luck. After that, we examined the parchment through a series of lenses of varying strength and composition: with clear glass and with tinted, with rock crystal and rosy quartz.

  "It was then," said Jedidiah, pausing impressively, with the porcelain teacup half way to his lips, "it was then that Mr. Jonas conceived the idea of using magic ruby spectacles."

  "Of course a pair of rubies large enough to be ground into lenses were very dear, oh yes, exceedingly expensive, and I was obliged to apply to the Guild for funds," the gnome acknowledged, as Sera's eyes opened wide in astonishment and she sat up a little straighter in her chair. "But what better device could one conceive to reveal secret writing? Every gemstone falls under the dominion of one of the Planetary Intelligences, and rubies, as we all know, are ruled by Sadrun: the Guardian of Secrets, the Master of All Things Hidden. I was only amazed that the idea had never occurred to anyone before.

  "I obtained the rubies, at what cost you can easily imagine, ground them into lenses, and mounted them. After that— But you shall see the result for yourself."

  At a nod from the gnome, Jedidiah put aside his cup. He produced a fragile-looking parchment and a pair of very odd spectacles, exhorting Sera to take a look at the document through the crimson-tinted lenses. Then he plunked down in the chair next to hers again.

  "My goodness!" exclaimed Sera, catching her breath. As soon as she put on the spectacles, the hidden text and diagrams had instantly appeared. "It looks—it looks like a map!"

  "It is a map," crowed Jed, craning his neck to look over her shoulder, like a big excited child. "But I'll wager you can't guess what map it is!"

  Sera studied the document more closely. "I have not the least idea," she said, and waited politely for further enlightenment.

  Mr. Jonas cleared his throat. "Those symbols: the moon and stars, and the writhing serpent, which have been visible all along but now appear to be imposed on those two large islands on the hidden map, have long been associated with the lost civilizations of Panterra and Evanthum. And see those two bits of land on either side? One is undoubtedly the isle of Imbria off the coast of Euterpe, and the other just as certainly a recognizable portion of the coast of Calliope. Yes," he said, as Sera glanced up, peering at him over the ruby spectacles, "we do believe that this map reveals the location of the two drowned island empires."

  For all her reservations about the Glassmakers and their activities, Sera was suitably impressed. "But if the map is accurate, both Panterra and Evanthum were far larger than anyone previously supposed!" Straightening the eyeglasses, she took another look at the map. "Why, the Alantick Ocean is over two thousand miles across, and the Panterran archipelago (as I suppose we may call it) spans most of that distance. Not mere islands, then, the two largest bodies, but something more approaching continents!"

  "That is so," said the gnome. "And yet not so surprising after all. Many old tales recall a terrible time of widespread destruction: of earthquakes, floods, tempests, throughout the known world on a scale unimaginable. The sudden disappearance of many smaller islands, the emergence of Imbria and Mawbri out of the oceanic depths, the subsequent collapse of all civilization, and a slow rebuilding. In short, disasters more in keeping with the death of two continents than of two insignificant islands.

  "Also," Mr. Jonas continued, pointing a finger at the frail yellow parchment, as though he could see the spidery brown lines which marked out the dimensions of the map as plainly as Sera could see them herself, "you may note the proximity of Panterra and Calliope."

  It required several minutes for Sera to absorb all of this. "But what a marvelous discovery," she said at last, bestowing a brilliant smile, first on the gnome, and then on Jedidiah. "This must prove of the greatest interest to scholars everywhere. I do congratulate you, Mr. Jonas. And you, too, Jed! You have accomplished something truly remarkable."

  "Of far more than scholarly interest—" the gnome began, only to be interrupted by Jedidiah:

  "That writing about the edge, those smaller diagrams . . . it's the spell we were looking for: a mag
ic spell for raising the islands, for bringing them right up out of the ocean!"

  Sera removed the ruby spectacles. Her delighted smile changed to one of patent disbelief. "My dear Jed, you cannot be serious. To raise two drowned continents, to bring them up from the ocean floor by the means of magic . . . that must be impossible!"

  "I don't see that," Jedidiah replied hotly, lapsing, as he sometimes did when extremely agitated, into the rough speech of his youth on the river. "Not when everyone agrees, your scholars and your philosophers alike, that it was magic as sunk them islands. Yes, and the gentlemen of the Glassmakers Guild reckon it's altogether possible, which is why they've agreed to finance the enterprise for us."

  Sera stared at him for several moments in speechless astonishment. Recovering her voice, she shifted her gaze to Mr. Jonas. "Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you actually intend to attempt this thing?"

  "That is precisely what we intend to do," said the gnome.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Which continues the Revelations of the Former.

  Mr. Jonas accepted the ruby spectacles and the parchment into his hands. "We do mean to attempt it. Or rather, not anything so ambitious as raising the two larger bodies. But you saw the smaller islands, most particularly the western-most isle? If the map is accurate, that must have been located less than a hundred miles off the Cordelian coast. According to all accounts, the Panterrans built a temple dedicated to the Evening Star on the western isle, and it is that temple, if any part of it still exists, that Jed and I most particularly wish to bring up out of the depths."

  Jedidiah and the gnome exchanged a sparkling glance. "The ancient Panterrans and Evanthians, as you must know, were a race of magicians and philosophers," Mr. Jonas continued. "The wonders of their civilizations have never been equaled since! They knew how to catch the light of the moon or the sun in a lamp, invented sky-ships powered by magnetism that they might sail among the clouds, built mighty celestial engines whose movements imitated stars and planets. According to some accounts, they knew the secret of the fabulous stone, Seramarias. And they inscribed all their secrets on marble tablets, which they sent to be guarded in the inner precincts of their temples. To gain such knowledge for ourselves . . . ah, Miss Thorn, that would be a great thing!"

  "Yes, I quite see that," said Sera, her dark brows drawing together in a thoughtful frown. "And yet . . . and yet if I may say so, it sounds the most fantastic and impossible scheme!"

  "Not so fantastic as you might think," the gnome replied earnestly. "To begin with, the ocean is surprisingly shallow throughout that area, with unexpected mountains and ridges—the waters there are not regarded as dangerous, but the soundings are a bit queer so far from the nearest land. It may be that none of the islands are sunk so deep as we had previously imagined. Also, the spell to raise them specifies the time of the full moon, when earth and sea enter into a restless state, and are highly disposed to divulge their secrets. Moreover, we shall do much more than recite magic words and perform magical passes. The parchment also describes, in great detail, an elaborate machine, apparently designed to make use of the magnetic attraction between the earth and the moon.

  "You are a young female of superior education," Mr. Jonas added, with a deferential bow. "You do not subscribe to the antiquated notion that the moon is a fiery orb inhabited by salamanders, though many who call themselves scientists remain firmly convinced of the same. I need only to remind you of the moon's elliptical orbit, and how the magnetic attraction I mentioned before naturally increases as Iune draws near the earth. Despite what some who call themselves educated choose to believe, we have proof of these things, not only in her apparent change in size, waxing visibly larger even as she grows rounder, but in the minor disasters, the high tides and the earth tremors, which her proximity invariably brings forth.

  "What we hope to achieve, Miss Thorn, shall be accomplished not by magic alone, but through a brilliant combination of scientific and magical principles!"

  Yet Sera remained skeptical. "But if the island in question is located near the coast of Cordelia—I am not a scientist, my acquaintance with natural philosophy is merely adequate, but it seems to me that your efforts might well occasion just such a terrible cataclysm as you have already described . . . if not throughout the world, at least sufficient to cause the people of Cordelia considerable trouble and grief!"

  "I will not deny," said Mr. Jonas, "that some danger certainly exists, should we choose to act precipitously. Which is why we intend to proceed cautiously instead. We shall not raise the island all at once, but by easy stages over the course of perhaps two days, and even then, we do not mean to bring the entire island to the surface, but only to raise it so high that the central eminence (on which the temple stands) emerges from the water."

  Sera made a last attempt to dissuade them. "But has it not occurred to you that the Duchess of Zar-Wildungen kept the parchment for—well, we don't know precisely how long she kept it, but perhaps for many years. And surely the Duchess possessed all the resources of wealth and influence necessary to mount just such an expedition as you plan. Therefore, if the spell is effective, which I am not at all prepared to allow, is it not highly probable that the Duchess has done the thing already, and claimed the secrets of Panterra and Evanthum all for herself?"

  "If she knew the entire contents of the parchment, yes. But that is something we are not inclined to allow," replied Jed, recovering his grammar along with his eloquence. "There can be no doubt that she knew the value of the document and something of its history, but there is no reason to believe that she knew the secret of the ruby spectacles."

  Sera shook her head stubbornly. Though she was willing to admit the sense of this, when it came to the wisdom of the enterprise itself, the probability of a successful conclusion . . . No, that she could by no means accept. However (she realized with a sinking sensation, and a heartfelt sigh), the attempt would undoubtedly be made, with or without her countenance.

  ***

  The sun had set and a lazy crescent moon with silver horns rose over the water, as Jed escorted Sera along the mathematically precise streets toward home. Whatever had ailed her earlier, the uncanny feeling that someone followed after her, that some nameless doom waited to pounce on her, had faded to a vague, prickly uneasiness.

  "It is now so late in the year," said Sera, as they walked through the gathering shadows. "I fail to see how you can possibly undertake this expedition of yours before Quickening. Do you intend to winter here in Lootie's Bay?"

  Jedidiah shook his head. "The gentlemen of the Guild believe we can do the thing cheaper and quieter if Mr. Jonas and I arrive in Cordelia a season or two before we set to work, make a push to establish ourselves in the community, then hire our ship and set sail when the time is right. Mr. Jonas has a friend there, a gentleman Glassmaker by the name of Mr. Herring, who lives in a little town right on the coast."

  They crossed the square, passing the town lamplighters busily at work with their ladders and long, sulphur-dipped matchsticks. Sera caught an unpleasant whiff of brimstone as she walked by.

  "And have you settled it—you and Mr. Jonas between you, while you were settling everything else—that Elsie and I will accompany you on this remarkable expedition?"

  Jedidiah grinned broadly. "Naturally, you and Elsie must come along for the adventure! Didn't we three solemnly vow to stay together, wherever the Fates took us? And the truth is," he added more soberly, "it's been preying on my mind: we have lived in this place much too long. It isn't wise and it isn't safe." From which Sera gathered that he, too, felt a strong sense that the pleasant little town was a trap closing in on them.

  He glanced down at her with a questioning look. "You don't feel any obligation to stay on with the Mayor and his lady?"

  "No indeed. And I don't imagine that Elsie will feel any obligation either. It was understood from the beginning, you know, that we should not stay here long. But wherever we go," she added sternly, "Elsie and I must find some
suitable employment. We will not live on Mr. Jonas's charity, nor will we allow the Glassmakers Guild to support us!"

  They had arrived at the Bullrush mansion, and Sera paused at the foot of the marble steps, glaring up at him.

  But Jed looked insufferably smug. "We guessed as much, Mr. Jonas and I, and indeed, we have arranged it. There's a school for young ladies in Hobb's Church, and they are looking for genteel young women of good education to serve as schoolmistresses. Mr. Herring will recommend you, and everything will be neatly settled."

  "Well then," replied Sera, with an angry little laugh (for though this news they would soon leave Nova Imbria lifted a great weight from her heart, she was also rather miffed that Jedidiah should make so many plans without first consulting her or Elsie), "I see that everything has been masterfully arranged for us, and we 'poor females' have nothing to do but meekly comply!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Which introduces an Agent, a letter, and a brief and inglorious History of Francis, Lord Skelbrooke.

  The downstairs parlor was a cozy room, cluttered and a bit overdecorated, for there had never been a dwarf born who could resist an opportunity to paint the lily. The walls were a pleasant jumble of gilded moldings, oil landscapes, peacock-feather fans, and silhouette portraits of three generations of Bullrush and Vole children. The room itself boasted an inordinate number of chairs, tables, chests, sofas, clocks, footstools, and lacquered fire screens, all jostling for elbow room.

  On a sofa sandwiched between a bookshelf and a curio cabinet, Elsie shifted uncomfortably, desperately wondering how on earth she could politely rid herself of the lanky gentleman seated so close beside her.

  The other guests had long since departed. Old Madam Bullrush lay fast asleep in her wing-back armchair, snoring gustily, not likely to wake again before supper. But Moses Tynsdale, the itinerant clergyman, Minister of the Gospel of the Immortal Fates, lingered on like a bad odor. For all his flawless manners, his dignified bearing, Elsie sensed something vaguely improper in the personal tone of the minister's conversation, the urgent, inquisitive nature of his questions.