by E. G. Foley
As their wee train flattened out again at last after that nauseating drop, they zoomed through the dark underground canyon on a gentler downward spiral, circling down toward some yet-unseen destination.
Far below them, meanwhile, deep in the heart of the mountain, Jake glimpsed the white-hot glow of the forges processing the gold, burning off the dross, shaping and refining it with blasts of pitiless heat.
Sixteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact, Archie had informed him earlier.
All the while, the whole mine reverberated with the low, constant echo of a pounding rhythm, like distant giant drums, as rocks were crushed down to gravel size, then pulverized into dust to free the flecks of gold inside.
“Impressive operation,” Archie remarked as the carts began to slow.
Ufudd hauled on the brakes as they approached a large stone archway ahead: the entrance to the Atrium. Bright gold light shone from inside it, but they could not see the interior of the Atrium until the tracks had carried them under the archway. Then the kids gasped at what they saw.
“Now that’s more like it,” Jake breathed as the mining carts glided to a halt in the middle of the Atrium.
All four sat motionless in the carts for a second, staring all around them. It was hard to say which was more of a wonder: the soaring, gold-plated dome above them; its walls, honeycombed with the entrances to countless tunnels, like the center chamber of a beehive, all lit up with pure, carved crystal chandeliers; or the hundreds of dwarves standing on a semi-circle of tiered bleachers, waiting to greet them.
Red pounced out onto the platform, then prowled up the few wide steps to the Atrium. After him, Ufudd jumped out of his cart with a polite “Ahem!” to jar the others out of their daze.
“Let’s go, kids,” Derek ordered in a low tone, untangling himself from the back cart.
They got out, still wobbly from that wild ride, their hair askew. Jake’s legs felt rubbery beneath him as he climbed out onto the platform and followed Red up the broad, rounded steps.
The dwarves on the bleachers craned their necks and peered over each other’s hats and shoulders, trying to get a look at them. Ufudd escorted them over to where five chairs waited for them, but Jake could not stop staring at the central feature of the Atrium: a life-sized, solid gold statue of a gryphon rearing up on his hind legs, wings spread, claws bared.
The wings were inlaid with chips of ruby to resemble Red’s scarlet feathers. The statue’s sharp claws were of platinum, but Jake did not recognize the jewels that had been embedded in the gryphon statue’s eyes. Maybe diamonds?
“Sit, please,” Ufudd invited them, gesturing toward the chairs. For Red, there was a round, tufted ottoman with purple velvet cushions like a throne.
As soon as they all took their places, someone doused the lights.
“What’s going on?” Dani whispered, clutching Jake’s arm.
“How should I know?” he mumbled.
“Quiet!” Derek ordered in a low tone.
Then they learned why, as the dwarves welcomed them to their underground stronghold with a song.
Jake listened, enthralled by their deep, sonorous harmonies. He did not understand the words, for the lyrics were in Welsh, but the melody was brave and stirring.
How could a choir of such small fellows produce such a rich, powerful sound? He could feel the vibrations of their song resonating in his chest. The sound swirled and reverberated under the dome, then he suddenly noticed a peculiar thing happening.
Something began to twinkle in the darkness.
It looked a little bit like Gladwin’s fairy trails, but more silver than gold. Puffs of it appeared here and there in midair in the center of the dome and drifted down slowly like confetti.
“What’s that?” Jake breathed.
“I can’t believe it! It’s Illuminium!” Archie whispered in excitement. “I’ve heard about it, never seen it before. It’s a very rare phosphorescent mineral that’s said to have many magical properties. It lights up when it contacts sound waves of certain frequencies. The dwarves sing to make it glow.”
“Shh!” Derek scolded.
Archie lowered his voice further. “I’ve heard they use it as a backup light source underground. It helps them avoid methane explosions and whatnot. It doesn’t burn.”
“It twinkles!” Dani whispered in excitement.
“It’s beautiful,” Isabelle sighed.
Sparkling dust shimmered in the darkness as the dwarves sang one of their ancient songs, bathing the cloud of Illuminium particles in the sound waves that made them shine. Meanwhile, other dwarves posted at various spots high up all around the Atrium used fireplace bellows to puff powdered Illuminium into the air.
The louder those in the bleachers sang, the brighter the darkened Atrium grew. Before long, Jake could see his friends’ faces clearly by the mystical, silvery lights twinkling in the darkness, as if the stars had floated down close to hear the song.
Jake was sufficiently impressed to be filled with remorse for having poked fun of these good folk earlier.
Then he noticed that the gryphon statue’s eyes must have been made from two rounded chunks of Illuminium, for they, too, glowed as the dwarves sang.
When their medley ended with a final, fading harmony, the lights came back up on all the chandeliers, and instantly, Jake and the others erupted with applause.
The dwarves themselves joined in the cheering, but Jake soon realized that the hero’s welcome was for Red.
The Gryphon bounded down off his purple throne and bowed to his short fans, then launched into the air and took a victory fly around the Atrium, letting out a grand, lion roar. The dwarves went mad with celebration at this display, but Red wasn’t quite done showing off yet.
To Jake’s amusement, his pet landed in the center of the Atrium and reared up on his hind legs, mimicking the gryphon statue.
Fluffing out the scarlet feathers around his mane and looking very grand indeed, Red came prowling over to Jake and took his wrist gently in his beak.
“Huh? What are you doing?” Jake asked.
Red pulled him out of his chair and led him over to stand with him in the center of the stage-like Atrium.
Jake realized Red—or rather, Crafanc—was presenting him to the dwarves as the new, rightful owner of the Everton Mine.
They all stared, waiting to see what he might do.
Jake had no idea what to do. Suddenly remembering all of Miss Helena’s work with him on his manners, he offered the watching assembly of dwarves his most gentlemanly bow. “Thank you all so much for that wonderful singing,” he said, his voice echoing under the hollow dome of the Atrium. “I, er, we are all very pleased to be here.”
A murmur of approval ran quietly through the bleachers. Red seemed pleased as well.
Whew, Jake thought. He must have done all right, because next, a stern-looking, red-bearded dwarf formally dressed in a kilt and tartan marched out carrying a golden key on a satin pillow.
He cleared his throat nervously. “Ahem.” Of course, his first words were to Red. “Noble Lord Crafanc-y-Gwrool, we make you welcome. We are most honored by your presence, and we thank you for confirming the bloodline of the rightful heir.” The head dwarf seemed uneasy, himself, with all the formality.
He was tall for a dwarf, for when he turned to Jake, Jake noticed they were about the same height. “My lord, I am the mine manager, Emrys, at your service. It is my great honor to present you, as the seventh Earl of Griffon, with the key to the Everton Mine.”
The dwarves all applauded as though Jake were accepting an award.
“Thank you,” he answered uncertainly, lifting the large key off the pillow to examine it. He couldn’t believe how heavy it was. “Blimey, is this solid gold?”
The words slipped out at once while the dwarves were still applauding.
Emrys’s stony face cracked a smile. “Aye, lad,” he mumbled in a low tone, “but it’s only ceremonial at this point. You’ll find our sec
urity measures have come a long way since that was forged back in the 1400s.”
“I imagine so.” Wonderstruck, Jake started to put the key back gingerly on the pillow.
“Er, sir—they usually want you to lift it up and show it around a bit,” Emrys coached him in a confidential tone.
“Oh, right,” Jake said gratefully. Then he did as Emrys suggested and lifted the key over his head, showing it around so all the dwarves in the bleachers could see how pleased he was to accept it.
Red was practically smiling with pride as he watched him. Having satisfied tradition, Jake laid the heavy golden key back down on the pillow for safekeeping until one day, when he was old, he’d bring his own son or daughter here to pass the mine down to his rightful heir.
A lump came into his throat as he thought of his parents’ portrait hanging over the fireplace back at Griffon Castle. Wishing his father could have been here to be a part of this, Jake dropped his gaze to the floor.
With the key returned to its pillow, Emrys announced it was time to return it to the Great Vault. At once, nine kilted dwarf guards marched out and gathered to stand in a half circle around the front of the gryphon statue with Emrys. “You might want to step back a bit, laddie.”
Jake obeyed.
“We ten were chosen by your father as his most trusted, loyal dwarves. We are the only ones who can open the Great Vault, and only three of us know how to get there.”
Jake returned to his seat and watched, intrigued, as the ten most loyal dwarves began to sing a very peculiar, unexpected melody, each one chiming in at various intervals.
Archie drew in his breath. “It’s a sound lock!”
Jake furrowed his brow, unsure what that meant, but the Illuminium eyes on the gryphon statue had begun to glow. As the ten most trusted dwarves finished their song, harmonizing the final bar with impressive precision, the gryphon statue began to rotate aside.
The children watched in astonishment as the heavy statue rolled away, revealing a hollow, dark space beneath it. When Emrys beckoned to Jake, Archie and Dani and even Isabelle glanced eagerly at him.
“Can they come, too?” Jake called.
While the dwarves in the bleachers chuckled fondly at his request, Emrys cracked another rueful smile. “It’s up to you, my lord. You’re the Master of the Mine! If you trust them.”
“With my life,” Jake declared. “Come on, you lot! Derek, too.”
The kids ran over to the opening beneath the gryphon statue, where they were surprised to see a few metal steps leading down to an elevator. Red jumped down and led the way, going into it.
Intrigued, Jake and the others followed. Emrys beckoned to Ufudd, who came hurrying over to join them.
“But he’s not one of the most trusted dwarves,” Archie pointed out in a delicate tone.
“Oh, but he was for many years. He’s mostly retired now,” Emrys answered.
“Your grandfather appointed me as one of his ten,” Ufudd informed Jake with an affectionate poke in the stomach, as if he were a cute, chubby baby.
“Grandfather?” After so many years as an orphan thinking he had no family at all, Jake was thunderstruck at the notion that he had once had a grandfather.
Blimey, it had seemed such a miracle to discover only recently that he had actually had parents at one point—before they were murdered—that he had never contemplated the having of actual grandparents until that very moment, when Ufudd said it.
He was still in shock, and Dani was eyeing him with some concern, as Emrys handed off the pillow and key to Ufudd in order to haul the railed metal elevator door shut. The other nine most trusted dwarves waited above, presumably to guard the opening to the Great Vault while they went to see it and put the ceremonial key away.
“You might want to hold on,” the head dwarf advised.
Remembering the cart ride, they did, gripping the wrought-iron rails of the boxy elevator.
Then Emrys threw the switch.
They dropped. They screamed. Except for Derek, who laughed, probably remembering when his old friend, Jake’s dad, Jacob, had brought him here for the first time, too.
Archie let out a loud “Woo hoo!” after a moment. As an inventor of flying machines, the boy genius was a bit more used to such wild rides than the rest of them.
They gripped the rails, laughing and terrified, as the elevator careened through a series of underground passages. There were lots of intersections shooting off in all directions, though some were blocked with redoubtable metal doors fortified with rivets.
One such door straight ahead separated into four steel panels that retracted into the walls as they zoomed toward it. Jake realized Emrys was operating the doors as well. This one shut with a puff of steam right behind them, then the elevator immediately jolted to the left, then up, then down.
“We change the pattern through these tunnels every week!” Emrys explained, yelling to be heard over the whooshing noise of wind and motion and the occasional clanks of metal on metal, which produced little showers of sparks in their wake. “Anyone taking the wrong path will be instantly vaporized before they ever reach the Vault.”
“Oh, that’s comforting,” Dani mumbled, holding on for dear life. “I hope he knows the way.”
He did.
Through one last separating door beneath them, they dropped down into the center of a tall underground cavern, where the elevator glided to a halt.
The doors opened with a pleasant bing!
But amazement was already replacing Jake’s dizziness, for when they had come through the last door, it had automatically switched on the gaslights, illuminating the inside of the Great Vault.
All their jaws dropped.
Emrys stepped out and waited for them to follow, but all four children stayed motionless for a second, agog at the gleaming gold mountains of treasure all around them.
Jake could not believe his eyes.
He staggered out of the elevator in an utter daze. He had had no idea that anyone was this rich.
Especially him.
He barely even heard the others laughing in astonishment as he took a few steps out of the elevator, dazzled and, to his surprise, slightly queasy at the sight of gold ingots piled high on all sides.
He went down the center walkway, numb with shock and not quite sure how to feel. Half of him was elated at the endless possibilities his fortune represented.
But the other half looked back on all the times he had nearly starved to death—one homeless orphan among many on the streets of London—and that half of him was furious.
What was the point of all his suffering? Wasn’t this gold half the reason his parents had been murdered?
Compared to that loss, this gain was meaningless.
He shook his head, overwhelmed and confused. Money was supposed to solve all a person’s problems—and look at the mounds of it he had!
But his heart sank as he realized it would never be enough. It could never replace what he had lost. In his most secret heart of hearts, he was still painfully poor, and probably always would be.
Meaningless.
“You all right, kid?” Derek asked softly, appearing out of nowhere to lay a steadying hand on his shoulder.
Jake looked up at him, unable to find his voice.
Derek knew what he had been through. The Guardian, after all, was the one who had finally hunted him down in the rookery and saved him from his wicked Uncle Waldrick, who had tried to have him killed.
Rage filled Jake from out of the blue as he felt the wound afresh of all that he had been deprived. His mother’s hugs, his dad’s advice.
And his grandparents, whoever they were.
It really wasn’t fair.
But if this inheritance was all that he had left, well then, so be it, he thought bitterly. Might as well make the most of it. And why not?
It’s mine. All mine. As he glanced around at the treasure on every side, he felt his heart grow cold and hard inside of him, just like it used to when
he would go into the market to steal in order to survive.
His jaw clenched with anger, he strode over to pick up the nearest golden cup.
He inspected it while Dani came toward him cautiously, noticing the strange mood that had come over him. He held up the gold cup to show her. “Nice, ain’t it?” he bit out sharply. “You like it? Here, it’s yours.” He thrust it into her hands.
She looked at it in astonishment, marveling at the fortune he had just handed over without a second thought.
Sure, it was enough to buy her dirt-poor family’s whole house back in London, but what did he care?
It was the least she deserved, after all her loyalty to him ever since their rookery days.
He nodded at her, his eyes narrowing, then he grabbed a golden bowl to go with it. “Here. Send this home to your Da. At least you still have some family left.” He turned away with a brooding glower.
“Jake, are you feeling all right?” Dani ventured.
“Never better!” he barked, whirling around angrily to find all of them staring at him. “Why wouldn’t I be, when I’ve got all this? Archie, you need some new funding for your research?”
“Er, not really. But…thanks.”
Jake ignored his protest and shoved a gold bar into his hands, then stepped past him. “Isabelle! You always said there should be a proper animal hospital in the village back at Gryphondale? Here, I’ll have one built for you.” When she didn’t take the gold ingot fast enough, he nearly dropped it on her toe.
“Jake?” Derek asked in a worried tone.
“Ah, Derek!” Jake strode toward the tall, muscled warrior. “You saved my life. I’ll have the dwarves forge a blade worthy of you! And a solid gold necklace with jewels for Aunt Ramona, and one for Miss Helena, too! What can I give to Henry? Make me a life-sized statue of a wolf for our tutor,” he ordered Emrys, who blinked in surprise.
“Jake, I’m sure Henry wouldn’t really want that,” Isabelle said gingerly, and for some reason, her gentle protest set him off.
What did she understand about being poor?
“I am the seventh Earl of Griffon!” he roared, turning on her. “He’ll take it from me whether he wants it or not! What, you think I can’t afford it?” He threw an angry gesture at the treasure around them. “Look at all this! It’s mine. I can do whatever I want! Who’s going to stop me? I could buy off half the Parliament if I wanted to—”