The Adventurer's Guide to Treasure (and How to Steal It)

by Wade Albert White

  “She couldn’t have just left a note or something?” asked Anne.

  “The computer contains incredible power and carries with it a tremendous responsibility. She could not risk making it too easy.”

  “No danger there,” muttered Hiro.

  “Unfortunately, Oswald refused to cooperate with Zarala, and the barrier remained in place for the rest of their lives. And then, after many more generations, people simply forgot what the medallions were for. The three families guarded them closely, but no one remembered their true purpose.”

  “What woke me, then?” asked Anne.

  “To explain that, first you must understand how the computer operates. Due to a physical limitation in its design, it can only measure time using four digits. Thus it can only count to the year 9999 before having to reset. Furthermore, in the Old World each year consisted of three hundred sixty-five and one quarter days. But in this world, each year has only three hundred sixty days exactly. Over the course of ten thousand years, the difference between those two systems of counting adds up to around one hundred and fifty years.”

  “Let me guess,” said Penelope. “When our world hit its ten-thousand-year mark, it caused a rift to form in the barrier. And then one hundred and fifty or so years later when the computer hit ten thousand years by the Old World’s way of reckoning, it opened the rift again.”

  “Precisely.”

  Hiro looked impressed.

  “What?” said Penelope. “Sometimes I actually pay attention.”

  The Construct continued. “Since the second rift was tied directly to the computer, it woke you, Anne. Evelyn Daisywheel knew how to access the laboratory beneath Saint Lupin’s, and she found you and brought you to the orphanage. But after she was killed during the expedition to the other side of the barrier, her doppelganger returned and took over.”

  “Why were you on the other side of the barrier?” asked Anne.

  “When the first rift happened, I contacted Hieronymus Darkflame, since his family had possession of the gold medallion that could control the barrier. Using my metal hand, which is really Zarala’s second gauntlet, one she created specifically for me, we successfully activated the quest….”

  “But I thought my gauntlet originally activated the medallion.”

  The Construct shook her head. “Because the gauntlets are twins, the medallion could be activated by either one. Doing so brought us in close proximity to the High Castle, however, and the Oswald Hologram took the opportunity to attack us. He wrested the medallion from the gauntlet, resulting in an explosion. I lost my hand, and Hieronymus was killed. I fell through the rift before it closed, and my metal hand went with me. The doppelgangers found the hand before I did. Since the hand is what granted me my autonomy, without it I was forced to attach myself to the first computer terminal I could find, the one you found me near. But it had been corrupted by the error, and my program began to degrade almost immediately. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t remember who or what I was.”

  “Is that why you weren’t solid?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait. If you’ve been on the other side of the barrier for one hundred and fifty years, then who was the Construct we met on our quests?”

  “Those were emergency backups. With me missing, the computer still needed an interface and so created copies in my absence. Unfortunately, they had limited abilities and the terminals where they appeared had also suffered varying degrees of corruption.”

  “Because they were located on dead tiers?” asked Anne.

  “Yes. When a high-level quest fails, it opens a temporary rift to the other side, allowing the corruption to seep through and kill the tier. For this reason, dead tiers are connected to the corruption’s influence, even from this side of the barrier. That’s why they’re drawn to the High Castle—because of its connection to the other side.”

  “What about him?” asked Anne.

  The Construct’s expression became grave. “Just as you are Zarala’s clone, Lord Greystone is Oswald’s clone. He was also placed in cryosleep, but he awoke during the first rift. Hence the difference in age, and the fact that he has a daughter.”

  “And let me guess: All clones have yellow eyes.”

  “That is correct.”

  “But Lord Greystone’s eyes aren’t yellow,” said Penelope.

  “His appearance as Lord Greystone was a holographic disguise provided by the suit. His eyes could be whatever color he wished them to be. Likewise, he used the suit to disguise the true appearance of my metal hand.”

  Anne had no family—at least, not in the true sense. She was merely a copy of someone else. For just an instant she regretted that she had rejected the Oswald Hologram’s offer of a home and a family.

  “You’re saying Greystone is over one hundred and fifty years old?” asked Hiro.

  “Using Old World technology, he found ways to extend his life,” said the Construct.

  “But why was he trying to destroy this world?” asked Penelope.

  The Construct’s expression softened. “That is his story to tell. I suggest you hear him out, and try not to judge too harshly.”

  Penelope frowned. “If you’re suggesting we simply forgive him for everything he’s done, don’t count on it.”

  “What you decide to do is up to you, but be careful not to counter hate with hate. That path only ever leads to destruction.”

  A gleam of light caught Anne’s eye. It was the sun reflecting off the Matron’s—or rather, the Construct’s—metal hand. She reached out hesitantly and touched it.

  “And what about this?” she asked.

  “Ah, yes,” said the Construct, holding up the arm. “The hidden meaning of the riddle. The High Castle was the name of the laboratory where Zarala and Oswald conducted their research. Zarala designed me after herself, but of course I couldn’t grow, hence the rose that never bloomed. The legend’s power referred to an upgrade intended for the gauntlet to grant me full access to the computer so I could deal with the corruption. It activated the gold medallion, but of course I lost the hand soon after, before I could act.”

  Anne pointed to the words ANTAGONIST/VILLAIN, still visible on the metal hand. “Why that inscription?”

  The Construct gave a grim smile. “I was suspicious of Oswald early on, but Zarala thought it was simply a glitch in my programming. After his betrayal, of course, she realized I had been right all along. She also realized how dangerous it was to have all her power centralized in one place, and that if Oswald ever got his hands on her original gauntlet there would be nothing to stop him. So she created this hand for me to provide more of a balance, and the inscription was a reminder that sometimes it’s good to challenge one’s beliefs.”

  “But why make that my name?”

  “Because in the same spirit, she didn’t just want a copy of herself. She wanted you to become your own person, to make your own choices, even if that meant opposing some of hers. And in that regard, I know she would be proud of who you’ve become.”

  Anne blushed. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess, but it’s still a weird name.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Originally she wanted to name you Lady Wynter Snookums Fufu Butterscotch, after her pet squirrel.”

  Penelope opened her mouth, but Anne clamped a firm hand over it before she could say anything. “That’s okay. Anvil is fine.”

  “But how did the Matron get possession of the hand?” asked Hiro.

  “The Evelyn doppelganger, whom you knew as the Matron, was the one who found it. Since it wasn’t designed for humans, she was unable to fully access its power, but it was enough to bring her through the barrier, from the doppelganger world into this one.”

  “But what about Anne’s gauntlet?” asked Jocelyn. “Why did my parents have it?”

  “Because Zarala entrusted the gauntlet to a very ancient family, of which you and your sister are the most recent descendants.”

  Anne frowned. “What family?”

  “W
hy, her own family, of course. Zarala lived long enough in this world to have a son who then carried on the family line.”

  Penelope’s eyes widened. “But wouldn’t that make Anne… sort of… Jocelyn’s great-great-great-times-a-hundred-grandmother or something?”

  Jocelyn coughed.

  Anne felt her cheeks grow warm. “She already said I’m not Zarala.”

  Penelope crossed her arms. “She said you’re her exact duplicate.”

  “I’m not anyone’s great-great-anything.”

  Dog glided over and stopped beside the Construct.

  “And he’s the GPS for the gauntlet, correct?” said Anne.

  “Wait, Dog is a GPS?” said Penelope. “But he’s—he’s—he’s Dog!”

  “He has a little more autonomy than most GPSs,” the Construct explained. “He couldn’t act as long as the Oswald Hologram had control of my hand, but once he left, Dog was free to return. And speaking of GPSs and gauntlets, there was one final thing.”

  The Construct raised her metal hand and the pieces of Anne’s gauntlet appeared on the deck. A blue sphere of light encircled them, and they glowed so brightly that everyone was forced to look away. When the sphere disappeared, the gauntlet was whole once more. The Construct took it and handed it to Anne.

  Anne held it tentatively, not daring to hope for too much. “Activate GPS,” she said, her voice shaking.

  A tiny rainbow-colored sparrow appeared in a burst of light.

  “Jeffery!” she exclaimed.

  He landed on the gauntlet and began to check himself over. “Okay, just for the record, being dead sucks,” he said. “But on the upside, I can cross resurrection off my bucket list.”

  “Dying and being resurrected was on your bucket list?” said Hiro.

  “Hey, you do you and I’ll do me.” Jeffery examined the gauntlet. “Wow! It’s like it’s brand-new.”

  The Construct patted Jeffery on the head. “I removed your access to the computer, since no GPS should have that kind of power, but in recognition of your bravery I also removed the block. You can appear whenever you want, whether you’re on a quest or not.”

  “Oh, wow, this is going to be great!” he said. “Just think of all the late-night talks we can have now.”

  Anne sighed, but contentedly.

  All was well with the world once again, and she was finally home.

  An hour later, Anne, Penelope, Hiro, and Jocelyn had gathered along with Marri in the captain’s cabin. Greystone was lying in the bunk, still in Octo-Horse Pirate form. With the dragon stone destroyed, he was unable to transform. The slit in his helmet was open, but his eyes remained closed. Marri moved her chair closer to the bed, while the others stayed back. She took her father’s hand in her own.

  Greystone stirred and opened his eyes—his bright yellow eyes. He surveyed those gathered in the room. “I suppose you’re… here to arrest me,” he wheezed. His voice sounded weak and shaky.

  Anne resisted the urge to lash out at him. The Construct had asked them to listen to his story, and she would do so, through gritted teeth if that’s what it took.

  “We just want answers,” said Marri. “Why did you do this?”

  He tried to lift his hands to his head but didn’t have the strength.

  “Remove… my helmet,” he said.

  Marri reached over and slid the horse-shaped helmet from his head. As soon as the helmet was off, his body transformed before them, although without the spinning this time. The tentacles disappeared, leaving behind one twisted human leg and one that was completely missing below the knee. Both his arms were intact, but one hand was missing all its fingers. The left side of his face was covered in heavy scar tissue, but not so bad that Anne didn’t recognize him.

  “You look exactly like him,” she said.

  “Like who?” asked Marri.

  “Oswald Grey, the scientist who worked with Zarala.”

  Marri turned the helmet over in her hands. “Why did you disguise yourself with this?”

  Greystone coughed. “The expedition. My body… was broken. I needed… power… to make things right.”

  “What happened to you?” asked Jocelyn.

  Greystone took a deep, shuddering breath before he spoke. “I was a member of the expedition group that went to the other side of the barrier,” he began, his voice a little steadier. “We had formed a special adventure group for the Wizards’ Council and were ready to take on the world. We had talent, no question, but I was eager, too eager as it turns out, to prove myself. I led them on a quest that was far too dangerous. I should have known better. I did know better, in fact. I just ignored the warning bells in my head. It ended… badly. That was… eleven years ago.”

  Eleven years. Anne felt like that number had significance, but before she could place it Penelope stepped forward.

  “You were the leader?” asked Penelope, her voice near to cracking.

  “Yes, I was the Keeper,” said Greystone. “The other members were… Siri Greystone, my wife and Marri’s mother… Evelyn Daisywheel… and Rachael and Constantine Shatterblade.”

  Jocelyn gasped at the mention of her sister, but Penelope continued, her whole body shaking as she did.

  “And you—you let people think it was my parents’ fault all this time? You let me think that? That they had caused the quest to fail and killed all those people? You let everyone think all those terrible things about our family?”

  “I… needed time… to fix it. I justified it… told myself they would have understood… the necessity. I’m… truly sorry.”

  Penelope said nothing more, but she turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Hiro followed her out, presumably to ensure she was okay.

  “Why the gold medallion?” asked Anne. “If you knew the dangers, why did you want to bring down the barrier?”

  He choked back a sob. “Because—because it was my one best chance… of bringing her back.”

  “Who?” asked Marri.

  Greystone stared into her eyes. “Your mother.” He turned and stared straight ahead, as though looking at someone who wasn’t in the room. “Our quest took us to the doppelganger world…. She was killed by the corruption… but I never found her copy. Her doppelganger. The Oswald Hologram appeared to me… gave me the journal… hinted that if the barrier were removed… and the worlds reunited… she might return to me. To us. And then I saw the metal hand… down in the laboratory… after your first quest… and I knew… I knew I had a chance.”

  Anne’s stomach twisted into a knot. Her disgust for everything Greystone had done remained, but it was tempered by a great sense of loss—for Penelope, for Jocelyn, for Marri, and even in some small way for Greystone himself.

  Greystone closed his eyes and lapsed back into unconsciousness. There was so much more Anne wanted to ask, but she knew she would never get enough answers to mend all the hurt and confusion she felt.

  Jocelyn left the cabin, but Anne remained by the door, unable to tear herself away.

  Marri sat by her father’s side, holding his hand in silence. Anne wasn’t sure how long they stayed there—whether it was just a few minutes or a few hours—watching the slow rise and fall of Greystone’s chest, until finally he breathed his last.

  And then Anne wept.

  Marri’s crew gave Greystone a proper pirate burial. For whatever else he might have been in life, to them he was the supreme leader of the pirates and, at least for a short time, their captain. They wrapped his body in long strips of cloth and lowered it on ropes into the BGFM. They sent his helmet with him.

  After the funeral, Anne wandered to the stern and leaned against the railing. Eventually Jocelyn joined her.

  “That’s… not what I was expecting,” said Anne. “None of it.”

  “It rarely is,” said Jocelyn.

  They stood there together for a while, watching schools of flying fish soar past and enjoying the afternoon breeze. Eventually, though, Jocelyn placed a hand over Anne’s.

&n
bsp; “We should probably talk about your plans,” she said.

  Anne looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “The school is in shambles, and with everything that’s happened, I suspect the Wizards’ Council isn’t likely to allow you back into the quest academy, even with Lord Greystone gone.”

  “That’s okay,” said Anne. “I lost my blacksmith token anyway.”

  “If I still had a school, I would give you your certificate now. Goodness knows you’ve earned it. You’ve accomplished more in these past few months than most adventurers do in a lifetime. I just wish I could have prepared you better.”

  An idea struck Anne. It was perfect, perhaps the most perfect idea she’d ever had, and it would at least make sense of something amid the confusing jumble that was her current life.

  She gripped Jocelyn’s hand. “You should have Saint Lupin’s.”

  Jocelyn looked stunned. “I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Yes, you could,” said Anne. “It belongs to your family, to Zarala’s family. I want you to reopen the quest academy and fill it with students. I want everyone to know what a wonderful place it is and what a wonderful teacher you are. And Captain Copperhelm and Sassafras, too. I think Zarala would want it that way.”

  At first Anne thought Jocelyn would protest, but instead she gave Anne a hug. “Thank you, Anne. I promise we’ll do just that. But what about you and the others?”

  Anne smiled. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

  Anne joined Penelope and Hiro near the mainmast. They seemed in much better spirits and were arguing over who had done a better job dealing with the castle’s tower security: Hiro against the firewall with his blob of water, or Penelope against the knight with her footrace.

  Anne filled them in on her talk with Jocelyn.

  “So,” she concluded, “I guess that means we’re not going to be students anymore.”