Hobgoblin Night: Mask and Dagger 2

by Teresa Edgerton

  "Indeed," said Mr. Jonas, standing on tiptoe to peer over the ship's rail. "It would seem that we have. Let us hope that we do not live to regret our success."

  The ocean now became so rough and violent that, on the Captain's advice, Mr. Jonas detached the copper wires (he received a shocking jolt of force in doing so, but that he had expected), removed a few of the lesser magnets, and made a number of fine calibrations in order to slow the ascent of the island.

  "Jed," whispered Elsie. "I thought you said there was a temple at the top of the hill. If so, why don't we see its outline silhouetted against the sky?"

  Jed had long since followed Mr. Jonas's example and doffed his flowing robes. "Not precisely at the top," he said. "It's supposed to be located on the western slope near the top of the hill, where it's not so rocky and there used to be a natural spring of fresh water, which they pumped into the buildings near the summit through copper tubes. Or anyway, that's what the stories say. Our temple, if any part of it still stands, will be coming out of the water now, but the bulk of the hill shadows it. We may see something when the moon rises higher."

  At midnight, they were able to see some sort of irregular building gleaming white in the moonlight upon the slope. Jedidiah removed one of the larger magnets and Mr. Jonas covered one of the mirrors trained on the moon, in order to stabilize the island.

  "It is time for those of us who mean to go ashore in the morning to retire," said Mr. Jonas. "I know that we shall all find sleep difficult, but we must get what rest we can."

  ***

  In the morning they lowered the longboats, and a number of the hardier sailors volunteered to row them ashore. Captain Hornbeam and his look-outs promised to keep an eye on the other ship, to signal if the Black Bear so much as altered her position, and to intervene if she approached the island. "We'll send up a rocket, if it comes to a fight," said the Captain.

  And satisfied with these precautions, the landing party climbed down to the boats and began the long row to the semi-submerged island.

  "We may safely explore today only. We might do so, at some risk, tomorrow," said Mr. Jonas, as they rode through the waves. "But as we cannot precisely calculate the magnetic force exerted by the moon, or predict the consequences once that force begins to fade, it is best to err on the side of caution. We must not remain on the island a minute after midnight."

  As they drew near the island, they were able to see that growths of kelp and seaweed covered most of the hill. The temple, as expected, lay in ruins. They ran aground on a pebbly shelf and climbed out of the boats, the gentlemen lending a hand to the ladies, while the sailors unloaded the tools and the lanthorns they expected to need when exploring the interior.

  Then they climbed the slope to the ruined temple. Columns, walls, roofs, and statues, of marble, obsidian, and rose-hued porphyry, all lay tumbled and scattered about. Yet it was evident, even so, that all the buildings and courts had been carefully arranged according to some precise plan. One great statue, remarkably well preserved, depicted a majestic figure with four pairs of immense wings beating the air behind him. He stood, poised upon a globe of the earth, holding in one mighty hand an open book, and in the other hand a pair of calipers.

  "Is it a statue of one of the Seven Fates, here in a pagan temple?" asked Elsie, a puzzled frown furrowing her brow.

  "It is meant, I fancy, to represent the demiurge Protœcleptius, otherwise known as the Evening Star, to whom this temple was dedicated," said Mr. Jonas. "Theirs was not a pagan religion, precisely, but a primitive version of our own."

  For a time they were all content to wander among the tumbled stone buildings and simply marvel at what they saw, but eventually everyone got down to work, making a diligent search of the ruins, hoping to discover some vault or tomb like the Spyglass Hill catacombs, where (they fondly hoped) tablets of stone describing the secrets of the Panterran race might still be found.

  They continued on in this fashion for several hours, then stopped for a picnic lunch. Everyone ate hastily, for the seaweed and kelp covering nearly everything had begun to dry in the sun, and truth to tell, nobody found the resulting stench improved their appetites. But as the others dispersed in their various directions, Sera remained seated on a marble block, deep in thought.

  "Your meditations appear to trouble you, Lady Skelbrooke," said his lordship, coming to look for her. "Will you share them with me, my love?"

  Sera sighed and shook her head. "I was trying to imagine how all this looked before: the temple, the gardens, and statues. And I thought how I wished my grandfather were here with us," she said wistfully. "He used to spend days, even weeks, deciphering a single page of ancient writing, years translating a single manuscript, yet here we have only to look around us in order to discover things that even the most vivid description could not possibly communicate."

  Skelbrooke perched on the block beside her, raised her hand to his cheek. Off somewhere to the right, somebody began to shout, and then others took up the triumphant cry. His lordship dropped Sera's hand.

  "It would seem they have found the vault," he said, jumping to his feet. "Will you come and look?"

  They arrived at the spot at the same time as Miss Barebones and a number of sailors. Jed, Elsie, and Mr. Jonas came hurrying along a moment later. Two of the sailors had discovered a pair of iron doors, although so much stone and rubble lay across them, it would clearly be impossible to open either side without first shifting a good deal of rock. Nevertheless, everyone was so elated by this discovery that they all set eagerly to work with picks and shovels, levers and fulcrums.

  When the last rocks had been shifted, the gravel all cleared away, Mr. Jonas fastened a rope through the ring in the center of each panel. Four sailors heaved the doors open, thereby uncovering a round shaft like a well, and possibly just as deep. A circular staircase built into the walls of the shaft led down into darkness.

  ''The air—if the seal was good and there is air at the bottom instead of water—the air may be filled with poisonous vapors," said Mr. Jonas. He instructed the men to lower a candle in a bucket at the end of a rope, down the shaft until it struck bottom. When they pulled the bucket back up to the surface, the candle still burned brightly.

  "Very good," said Mr. Jonas. "Then with our torches and lanthorns, we, too, may descend. But let us exercise reasonable caution. Allow me to go first. When exploring underground, it is always best to allow a gnome or a dwarf to lead the way."

  With wildly beating hearts and bated breath, they followed him down the stairs: Jed and Elsie, Miss Barebones, Sera and Skelbrooke, and then the sailors—except for two stout seamen who were left behind to watch for a signal from the Otter announcing they had been forced to engage with the other vessel.

  The steps wound down and down for what seemed a very long time. Sera calculated they were now well below the level of the water, down inside that part of the island that the ocean still claimed. At last they reached an underground chamber, not unlike the Hobb's Church catacombs, but on a much larger and grander scale.

  "You see there was no damage here," said Mr. Jonas, in reverent tones. "There were mighty spells at work here. In very truth, this must be the Vault of Secrets." He turned to Jed. "Our fame, if not our fortune, is assured. My dear boy, I heartily congratulate you, for you have risen by your own efforts, and now the whole world must acknowledge your merits."

  Elsie slipped her hand into Jedidiah's, "Indeed, Jed, I always believed in you," she whispered. "But even I never dreamed such a spectacular success."

  The gnome bent to examine the floor beneath his feet, walking about with his nose almost brushing his toes. These mosaics were finer and more complex than any they had seen before, depicting a glorious clockwork cosmos: flaming suns, pale moons, rainbow-hued planets, and fire-tailed comets, with their courses, rotations, and perturbations all clearly and meticulously diagramed.

  He unbent and turned toward Elsie. "It is well, Miss Winter, that you brought your pastels and your sketchpad
with you. When we have seen a bit more, I wonder if you will come back here and copy as much of this design as you can, that I may study it later?"

  Farther along, they came to another set of double doors, these constructed of great planks of polished whalebone. They opened easily, revealing to the delighted eyes of all the observers a veritable treasure-house of inscribed stone tablets, arranged around the chamber on mighty tables of rock. Everyone—pigtailed sailors, the dignified gnome, the two young gentlemen, and the ladies in their wide skirts—crowded into the room to take a look.

  "I shall examine these very carefully, and you must help me, Jedidiah and Lord Skelbrooke, to determine which are the most likely to yield the knowledge we seek," said Mr. Jonas. "We cannot take all of them back with us in the boats, so we must choose wisely.

  "No," he added, in response to Jed's inquiring look. "If we tried to translate even the half of them, in order to decide which were of most worth, it would take more time than we have. But you can see that many show diagrams and plans, symbols and magic squares. You may choose according to these. Then we shall begin to move them, one by one, with the greatest care. It may be, you know, that we are not meant to have them, and we must be alert to any impending disturbance which might result from their removal."

  Yet when the time came, they moved the tablets without incident, and loaded a great number of them into the boats. With the weight of so much stone aboard, some of the passengers were required to stay behind. It was decided that Mr. Jonas ought to go, to make certain the tablets received proper handling, and Miss Barebones confessed she had grown a trifle weary, with all the activity and excitement. But Sera, Jed, Elsie, and Skelbrooke declared they were eager to stay behind and continue their exploration of the catacombs.

  "We shall return by sunset, I hope," said the gnome, as he took leave of them down in the vault. "But if we should be delayed for any reason—if we should not return much before midnight—you must keep a careful eye on the time and wait for us down by the water."

  Lord Skelbrooke and Jedidiah took out their pocket watches (Skelbrooke's timepiece, recently purchased, was quite an ordinary chronometer, innocent of explosives), to make certain they were both still working.

  "Very good," said Mr. Jonas. "Then I shall leave you two sailors to keep watch up at the temple, a lanthorn and extra candles for each of you, and I will return as soon as I may."

  Elsie took her sketchbook and her pastel crayons out of her reticule and sat down in a welter of skirts and petticoats to make sketches of the floor, while Sera and the gentlemen examined the carved pictures and symbols and the ancient letters on the tombs and catafalques. Sera was particularly intrigued by a line of pictures, which she supposed adorned the tomb of some great inventor, for they seemed to depict a number of machines: wind-driven carriages and steam-powered chariots, and a curious device that seemed to be made up largely of graduated lenses, the purpose of which she could not make out at all. She called Jed over for an explanation.

  Jed mentally translated the inscription, spent several minutes contemplating the picture, while Sera waited impatiently. "It's a writing machine, for carving on stone tablets!" he said at last. "These lenses . . . the large one at the top is ordinary glass, those in the middle are quartz, and the tiny ones are ground from Balthorian crystals . . . they concentrate the rays of the sun smaller and smaller, until the heat's so intense it burns through solid rock."

  He joined Sera examining the tombs along that wall, all the pictures of men and women in tottering hats and headdresses, all the marvelous machines and inventions of a lost civilization. Meanwhile, Lord Skelbrooke, ever the magician, concentrated on some esoteric diagrams in another part of the cavern. A quiet hour or so passed in this manner, until Skelbrooke called out to the others to join him by a stone coffin.

  The coffin had been beautifully carved with magical and alchemical symbols, and a band of lettering all around the top. But considering that the Panterrans had been full-sized Men, it enclosed a space so small that it could only contain the remains of a very young child.

  "I do not entirely comprehend the writing, but I believe . . . I am all but certain . . . that this box was never meant to house a body," said his lordship. "I believe that it may, in truth, contain something of great value. Pray bring your lanthorns a little closer, ladies. And you, Jedidiah, help me to lift the lid."

  The lid was heavy, but manageable. It came off to reveal a glitter of gold and gemstones. Lord Skelbrooke and Jed hastily lowered the lid to the floor, then Skelbrooke reached inside the stone box and drew out a small ivory coffer, set with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds, flashing and scintillating in the light of Sera's and Elsie's lanthorns. The other three watched breathlessly as he opened the jewel-encrusted cover.

  On a bed of crumbling fabric lay a single large gemstone of unusual color and lustre, a rich shade somewhere between red and purple, with a golden fire burning at its heart.

  "Seramarias," said Skelbrooke, in a low, shaken voice. "It is your namesake, Sera." A sigh passed among them. Elsie leaned against the marble coffin for support, and Sera felt dizzy, too, her heart pounding so hard that she thought it must burst. And Sera knew in that instant that she was, after all, the alchemist's granddaughter in every sense of the word: she desired the Stone with all of her heart.

  "Radiant Seramarias, that men have

  Sought Through all the Ages of the circling Worlds,

  Nor Kings, nor Emperors, nor Potentates,

  For all their Glittering store of Treasure,

  Not one Stone so Precious or so Pure

  As blood-bright Seramarias, with her Heart of Flame—"

  Skelbrooke's quotation came to an abrupt end, as a sound reached them from the foot of the circular staircase. They had not heard anyone descending the shaft, and it wanted an hour until sunset and the return of their friends.

  "Do not be so foolish as to reach for your weapons, gentlemen," said a sweet, childlike voice. "We are both armed, and our pistols are aimed directly at the young ladies' heads."

  The Duchess of Zar-Wildungen stepped into their circle of lanthorn-light, and with her came Moses Tynsdale. There was a rustle of movement, and the ape Sebastian came around from behind the Duchess, clinging to a portion of her skirt.

  But Skelbrooke had moved so quickly that a small pistol of walnut and brass already gleamed in his hand. "As mine is aimed at your head, Marella," said his lordship coldly. "It would appear that we have reached a stand-off. Our friends will soon arrive, however, to shift the odds in our favor."

  "They must first get past my men up above," said the Duchess. "I fear that we handled your sailors rather roughly, but I believe that no permanent damage was done. How very surprised they were to see us! Did you expect us to bring the Bear in with all her guns roaring? We came in longboats, the same as you did, around the far side of the island, and your lookouts never spotted us."

  Sera and her friends exchanged embarrassed glances. Somehow, it had never occurred to anyone of them that someone with the Duchess's sense of drama would arrive without fanfare and blazing cannons.

  Skelbrooke's hand tightened on the hilt of his pistol. "We have nothing to fear from her," he told the others. "She will not shoot any of us. That would go against her pride. To gain her revenge by so simple and crude a method would be unworthy of the Duchess of Zar-Wildungen."

  "But I no longer desire revenge," said the Duchess, smiling. "It is 'Radiant Seramarias' I must and will have."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  In which the forces of Nature and magic prove Capricious.

  The Duchess continued to smile that same peculiarly benign smile. "I have suffered much," she said, "but I am willing to forget my many wrongs, if you will yield me the Stone. Yes, Seramarias will pay for all."

  Skelbrooke shook his head slowly. "The Stone is beyond all price—but what is that to a Fee in pursuit of revenge?"

  "It is something. Not so much, I will admit," said the Duchess. "But y
ou value the Stone, it will pain you to lose it, and that is something, too. By depriving you, I gain some part of the moral satisfaction I seek." She took a step closer, so that the lanthorn lit her features more clearly. She still smiled, but her delicate face had assumed a wistful expression. "And circumstances favor you. When the Duke died, in some sense, the Gracious Lady, the Duchess of Zar-Wildungen, died as well. If I am to rise like the phoenix from the ashes of my old life and begin anew, I can better do so unburdened by old debts, old hates, old loves. Give me the Stone, dear children, and you need never again fear my interference in your lives. I give you my sacred word."

  The others shifted uneasily, exchanged sidelong glances. "Indeed, Godmother," said Elsie, "I wish that it were so. I never did you any wrong that I knew of, but still I would be glad to buy peace with you. If only your word could be trusted."

  "You will pardon our cynicism," added Sera, curling her lip. "But Jarl Skogsrå also spun a plausible tale, back at your house in the marsh, and he meant only treachery from the beginning."

  "Nevertheless, I believe we may trust her," Skelbrooke said, much to the surprise of the others. "It is not in the nature of Fee or Farisee to lie about matters of justice or revenge. Yet we cannot give you the Stone, Marella. No one here has wronged you, save I myself, perhaps. And the price you demand is much too high."

  The Duchess frowned, gave an impatient twitch to her skirt. "Too high a price for peace of mind? Unless I gain satisfaction here and now, I shall hound you all the days of your life. You will never know a moment's safety, a night of sweet, unworried repose. I am long-lived, I can torment your children and your children's children. I may live long enough to take my revenge against your great-grandchildren. It is not a prospect to which I look forward, I own, but it is something I should be impelled to do, unless you choose wisely and free us all."

  Sera's first elation at finding the Stone was beginning to fade. She wanted Seramarias, but not so intensely as before. And when she thought of all the Stone had cost her in the past, what it had cost her own people and Jed's as well, the price it might still exact—She looked across at Jed, and saw her own trouble and confusion reflected in his eyes. The family curse, that was what Seramarias had been, and must always be, unless she found the wisdom and the courage to renounce it.