The Artifact Hunters

by Janet Fox

  Two quite useful humans left the castle, and now they are unconscious, wrapped up like spider-catch and twisted in the branches of the largest tree in the middle of the dismal glade that forms the center of the wraith’s tiny world. The humans’ heads loll and their eyes stare blankly through the Scottish mist that settles, thick and thicker.

  The wraith lurks beneath them, gazing up in glee. Its little mechanicals stir, their strange eyes wide and staring. The wraith was able to send one of its mechanicals through the wards and inside Rookskill, but the pathetic mousie was too vulnerable.

  So, the wraith thinks, rubbing what is left of skeletal fingers, grinning to expose what is left of sharply pointed teeth. The wraith will use one of those humans, oh, yes, to find what it most wants.

  It begins to lay out what it will need, while the mist grows thicker. It pulls out the knives and saws and tweaking tools and lays them on the ground beneath the tree.

  All the little mechanicals in the glade begin to chirp and twitter with anxiety, for they sense that sinister magic is about to be made by their master.

  Ah! But the wraith may have looked away from its victims too soon.

  For one of the humans has come unspelled. One of the humans rolls eyes in the wraith’s direction and knows she must make magic if she can, and quickly. One of the humans struggles in her spider-silk cage, careful, quiet.

  The mist is a gift, too, but a gift for the human and not for the wraith.

  CHAPTER 26

  Isaac

  1942

  The children gathered in the small library. Kat, closing the door softly, said, “Let’s agree we’re not saying a single word about this to the nincompoop in the parlor.” Then she said to Isaac, “All right. What do you have so far?”

  Isaac put his pack on the table. “This is probably the most important.” He took out the skull, placing it in the palm of his hand, the hum in his brain growing again. He opened the jaw to reveal the watch face, and the skull caught the light in a sinister way. “A time machine,” he said.

  The air in the room was electric as the children leaned over the watch.

  “I know what that is,” said Kat. “I know lots about watches.” She paused. “That’s a Death’s Head watch.”

  “Death’s Head,” Isaac breathed. He saw Death, standing next to the great astronomical clock, hammering down the hours.

  “They’re some of the earliest watches,” Kat went on. “Made to remind the owner that time is fleeting and life is short. Memento mori. Remember that you will die. Mary Queen of Scots had a Death’s Head watch,” Kat said. “Legend has it that hers was cursed. That the watch itself played a part in her downfall and execution. It disappeared after she died, though some say that she gave it to her favorite lady-in-waiting when she went to the block.”

  “You don’t think this could be the very same watch, do you?” Amelie asked.

  “Impossible to say, but interesting that this one is here in Scotland,” Kat said.

  “Because if so,” Amelie said, “then this watch could be cursed.”

  Leo whistled. Colin threw his arms around Canut’s neck.

  The hum in Isaac’s brain grew again, and this time he concentrated on breathing, in, out. In, out, and the hum subsided.

  “And how did you come by this?” Kat asked.

  Isaac told them the story, then, from his departure from Prague to his landing in Orkney, to seeing his parents and receiving the watch. He read them his father’s letter. And he told them what happened when he mistakenly set the watch in motion at the inn and saw the destruction of an ancient civilization.

  “Or that is what it seemed to be,” he said. “When those monsters carried off the people who lived there.”

  “And those monsters,” Leo began, “they’re . . . what?”

  “They’re Unseelie fae,” said Amelie. She fetched the book and opened it to the page with the illustration.

  The room was silent for a minute.

  “You think they’re hunting you,” said Leo to Isaac. “Those monsters.” He pointed, his finger trembling a little. “The same monsters I saw in my vision of your nightmare.”

  Isaac nodded.

  “You think,” Leo said, then cleared his throat, “they’re going to try and find you, so they might have followed you here to Rookskill.”

  Isaac blinked. “I had not thought about it that way.”

  “He didn’t mean to bring them here,” Amelie said, sounding defensive.

  Leo said, “I know.” He rubbed his hand over his head. “I thought we were here to learn how to win the war by using magic. I guess we’re also going to have to learn how to fight these . . . Well, the Nazis are monsters. And so are these.” Leo pointed at the picture.

  Isaac looked up at Leo in surprise. “You are not angry at me?”

  Leo gave a fleeting smile. “Why should I be angry? I am a little scared, I’ll admit. But we’re all in this together, right? I mean, I’m not keen on waging war with them,” and he again pointed at the picture. “But we can’t just sit here and let them do . . . whatever they’re going to do. That wouldn’t be right, would it? You’re part of the team now, Isaac.”

  “I am?” Isaac paused. “Thank you, Leo,” he said. He smiled back, grateful.

  “So,” said Kat. “Is that everything?”

  Isaac had to suppress a grin then at Kat’s businesslike question. “Not quite.” He recounted his time travel to what he thought was ancient Greece, and he pulled out the scroll.

  Once again that hum began to sing in his brain. Once again he was able to tune it out, and this brought a bit of a surprise realization. He thought he might be getting better at controlling his reaction to magic.

  Isaac unrolled the scroll on the floor and the others crowded around. “It seems to be some kind of map, but I have not yet figured it out.”

  Leo fingered the scroll and said, “This isn’t paper or parchment. It’s papyrus. That might mean you were in Greece, or Rome, or Egypt.”

  “Well,” said Kat brightly. “This place you saw. Can you describe it again?”

  Isaac did, adding as many details as he could.

  “I think I know where you might have been,” Kat said, “and maybe who she was. She’s one of my personal heroes. I’m thinking you were in the great Library of Alexandria.”

  “The Library of Alexandria!” exclaimed Leo. “What I’d give to see that.”

  “In fact,” Kat continued, “you might have been in the last bit of the Library, most of which was destroyed. And the woman, if I’m right, would have been Hypatia, because she was a famous mathematician who lived in Alexandria around AD 400.”

  “Golly,” whispered Colin.

  “Hypatia’s father was one of the last members of the library. She was far ahead of her time. The patriarch of Alexandria decided to exile the Jews who lived there and confiscate their property. Hypatia was friendly with the Roman prefect who supported the Jewish people, and that made her the patriarch’s enemy. So, it’s believed that he had her murdered. Some legends say she was murdered in broad daylight, on the street, by an angry mob.” She paused, and then said, “History repeats itself. I’m so sorry, Isaac.”

  Isaac swallowed the lump in his throat. It felt like there was no place safe for people like him, not even in past history. And he grieved again the loss of Hypatia. Even though it sounded like he wasn’t responsible for her death, maybe if she’d been able to escape through that magical door rather than help him retrieve the watch . . .

  “The astrolabe fits, too. Hypatia was known to have used them.”

  “What’s an astrolabe?” Colin asked.

  “It’s an astronomical orrery. It shows the positions of the stars and planets. Hypatia was brilliant, really,” Kat finished, and sighed.

  “Did you see that?” Leo asked. He’d been studying the scroll
. “Did you see what it just did?”

  The others leaned over again.

  “It moves,” Colin said. “The images move.”

  “I saw that, too,” said Isaac. “It makes it hard to read the words because they are always changing.”

  “Interesting,” Kat murmured.

  “I can’t make it out,” Colin said.

  “Well,” said Kat, “I think it’s time to make a list of what we know and what we don’t.” She went to the desk to fetch a paper and pencil. Amelie nudged Isaac and he met her eyes and then Leo’s and Colin’s and everyone smiled.

  Kat’s orderly manner, Isaac realized, could be annoying, but in this moment of confusion it was also most welcome.

  Kat sat down again and looked around at the others. “What?” she said.

  “We’re just admiring how you think,” Amelie said sincerely.

  “Oh.” Kat shifted. “Well. Thanks. Now.” She began writing. “Anything else?”

  “I missed whatever clue or whatever I should have found in the ring of stones. My mistake.” Isaac’s cheeks grew hot.

  “Can’t be helped,” Kat said.

  “And there’s this,” Isaac said, and pulled the pendant out from under his shirt.

  Everyone leaned forward. “It’s the eternity knot,” Amelie said. “Where did you get that?”

  “My father gave it to me.” Isaac put it back under his shirt, where it once again lay cold against his skin. “I don’t know what it’s for, but Hypatia had a pendant that she gave the girl before she disappeared.”

  Kat tilted her head. “Curious.”

  Colin lay on his stomach staring at the scroll. “The words. They flow like water. Or, like a snake. See? That almost looks like the head of a snake. In fact”—Colin pushed up to hands and knees—“that may be where the words begin. Right there with ‘Dear Isaac.’”

  “Good one, Colin,” Amelie said. “Look there. It seems to be followed by ‘Well done.’”

  “Could this be a plan of the library, Isaac?” Kat asked. “Did it look like that?”

  Isaac shook his head. “What I saw was only one story high and simple, just a room full of scrolls and books and papers. This looks like a really complicated building with stairs and corridors.”

  Amelie gasped. “Look! Look! It’s a plan of Rookskill. It’s Rookskill Castle.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Isaac

  1942

  Once Amelie said it out loud, it was obvious.

  “Brilliant,” Kat said. “Exactly so, Ame. It’s a three-dimensional plan of Rookskill.”

  “And it’s a living plan,” said Leo. “I think that’s us, right there. Look, there’s Baines in the parlor. And that’s Lark, in the kitchen.” He pointed. “And I’ll bet that’s Willow.”

  Willow dove down to hover over the scroll. “Doesn’t look anything like us,” they huffed.

  “No,” said Leo, “it’s a symbol. You’re represented by a blob.”

  “A blob?” Willow zipped to the ceiling. The blob moved, too, Isaac noted. “We’re . . . we’re . . . mortified. A blob!” They asked, “What’s Lark?”

  “A flower,” Leo said.

  “We’re a blob and the ghillie is a flower? Not fair.” Willow moved to the corner of the room, muttering.

  “No wonder it looks like the walls and corridors are moving on the scroll because that’s exactly what they feel like here in Rookskill,” said Kat.

  “So then, we need to try and follow the words,” said Colin. He jumped up and added, “Canut says he’s ready.”

  “The blob is staying right here,” Willow said, huffy.

  Amelie said in a soothing voice, “Maybe you could keep an eye on Baines for us, Willow? I don’t think you’re a blob.”

  Willow sniffed. “Thank you, Amelie.” They popped away.

  The five children and one dog went into the front hall, moving quietly so as to not alert Baines. Colin led the way, and Amelie kept track, while Kat took notes on what they could follow and read.

  “Look,” said Isaac when they reached the second floor near their rooms, where Colin thought the words began. “Can you see that?” It looked as if the drawing came to life, shimmering in the air around them, moving from the scroll to the walls themselves.

  “Wow,” whispered Leo.

  “This way,” said Colin, following the coiling form of the words that were revealed in order with every step they took. He read the words aloud and Kat transcribed.

  Dear Isaac, Well done.

  You’ve got the watch, the map, and the knife . . .

  “Wait,” Isaac said, halting. “I don’t have a knife.”

  “Maybe that’s what you were supposed to find in the ring of stones,” said Amelie. “I seem to remember reading about an iron knife that could render the Unseelie fae a mortal blow. I’ll have to look that up.”

  “Assuming you can get close enough to an Unseelie,” Leo observed. “Which you might not want.”

  “Then I’m missing a possibly important weapon,” Isaac said. He remembered then that his fingers had felt a niche in the stone where he stood inside the ring. He wondered whether that niche held the knife he should have found. He shook his head. He should have been more careful. Next time, he promised himself, he would be. Except, that was twice now. The knife, and Hypatia. He bit his lip as Colin continued reading.

  What we do is guard magical artifacts that could be used for good or ill. The hunters seek what we hide.

  They were walking along a windowless corridor, and Colin led them through a door, and down a narrow flight of stairs, a twisting, winding staircase. The blue-white shimmering in the walls that corresponded to their path on the scroll was the only light.

  This map will take you to something that’s been hidden for centuries. Something you can use to help you uncover the next clue. Remember that if any of these artifacts land in the enemy’s hands . . .

  “Wait,” Isaac said, stopping again. Now they were deep inside the castle, on the landing of the stone staircase. It was gloomy and cold. “Artifacts. That is the clue.” Colin took a few more steps.

  . . . it will be dangerous for all humans.

  “Whoa,” said Leo. “That sounds pretty bad.”

  “Um,” said Colin, “it looks like the words end here.” He opened a door into a long wood-paneled room that was barely lit by windows at one end. “I think we have to look for whatever will help uncover that next clue in this room.”

  The children and dog stepped inside. It was filled with stuff—heavy, upholstered wood furniture, flowers in glass domes, sculptures on shelving, magnifying glasses on tables. Thick Turkish carpets covered the floor. Portraits hung to the high ceiling. The room was so large that Isaac thought it might have been the size of a football pitch.

  As they stood there, Colin holding open the scroll, the walls of the room began to shine with that unearthly blue light. Canut whined.

  “Like electrification,” Leo said quietly, “but without the wires.”

  “Wicked,” Colin whispered.

  “Let’s spread out,” said Amelie. “Look for the eternity knot.”

  Each of them took a different part of the room. The carpet muffled the sounds of their movements. Isaac stood staring at his corner. It was a dusty, cluttered collection of stuff. Any single object here could be an artifact.

  Why, that petrified rock looked strange. And the stuffed raccoon, teeth bared, ugh. And what about the wad of fuzz inside the glass ball that reminded Isaac of dust under the bed? He moved around his corner, taking it all in. The walls still glowed with wavy blue lines.

  “Oh!” The gasp came from Amelie. They all turned.

  Ame’s arm was glowing, too, but with gold. A gold rope was wrapped around her bare forearm from wrist to elbow. But the rope moved.

  Amelie looked
horrified, frozen with terror.

  Isaac ran to her.

  “Stop,” she whispered as he skidded to a halt. A snake wrapped her arm, a snake all of gold, shining. Its tongue, near her wrist, flicked in and out. “I’m afraid it will bite.”

  The others were there, too, and it was Colin who stepped forward. “It won’t,” he said. “I promise it won’t bite.” He reached out his hand toward Amelie. The golden snake slithered from her arm and onto Colin’s hand, and then coiled—and froze solid, its head vertical, tongue out.

  Amelie staggered back, leaning against an overstuffed chair.

  “Look at the pattern of its skin. It’s the eternity knot,” Kat said. “And it’s a bracelet. An actual bracelet.”

  “I know. I picked it up and it came alive and crawled up my arm,” Amelie said, sounding strained. “I hate snakes.”

  “It’s also a snake, a real one,” Colin said. “It told me that it’s looking for home. And that Isaac could take it there. It says that when you find its home, you’ll find the next bit of answers.”

  “Wonderful.” Isaac asked, “Where’s home?”

  Colin looked up at Isaac, holding the snake-bracelet out toward him. “The snake told me it’s your next time travel.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Isaac put the snake-bracelet in his pack. “Will it stay like this?” he asked Colin as they made their way back up the winding stairway to their rooms. “It will not uncoil and slither away, or, or . . . ?”

  “Only if you ask. Then it comes alive. But if you ask it, it’ll do stuff. Like spy under doorways. Lead you somewhere.”

  “But how do I ask it, Colin?” Isaac stopped in his tracks. “I don’t talk to animals.”

  “It’ll listen. Trust me.”

  Isaac exchanged a look with a wide-eyed Amelie.

  “Just don’t bring it into my room,” she said. “I only picked it up to bring it to you because I saw the pattern.” She shuddered. “I really hate snakes.”

  “Do not worry,” Isaac said. “I’ll put the pack in my room.”