A gasp trickled through the crowd, but Henry, Maggie, and the other Moore grandchildren couldn’t hear it over their own audible concern. However, they did not discuss anything until they climbed down the ladder and were once again safely tucked away in the back of Kleren.
Maggie was the first one down and immediately saw that Houten was no longer there. But the room had still gained quite a few faces. Ward, Harriet, Wendell, Lloyd, Nellie, and Violet had apparently snuck into the shop during the uproar in Myra Lane. By the time Clemmie, Catharine, Louis, and Hostrupp squirmed down the ladder after Maggie, the backroom was crammed with bodies.
“Where’s Houten?” Maggie asked outright.
“He had to go back to Snop,” Ward explained. “He couldn’t risk not being there when the Garrisons come looking.”
Nellie spotted the concern on Maggie’s face and added, “He said to tell you that his help was no longer needed. And that we would assist you on the next step.”
“Which is what?” Catharine asked.
Lloyd stepped forward. “We have to get the third and final Sister Wheel.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all,” Clemmie huffed.
Henry walked over to the pile of letters and journals still in the corner. Bending over, he scooped the papers into his arms. “Neither Major Henry nor my father left any clue to where the family’s Sister Wheel was hidden.”
“Maybe you weren’t supposed to know.”
All eyes in the room turned to Louis.
“What do you mean?” Henry looked up as letters spilled out of his overflowing arms.
“Well, Pierre Van Cortlandt passed the Poppel secret onto Major Henry,” Louis said thoughtfully. “But that doesn’t mean Major Henry’s uncle gave him the Sister Wheel. Pierre probably left it to someone in his own immediate family.”
“So that means it could be found…” Clemmie paused before chuckling dryly. “Absolutely anywhere! Good sleuthing, Louis. Sure glad we brought you along.”
Louis glowered. “Well, if we were left with just your quick thinking, we’d still be in the sleigh tunnels searching for an imaginary dog.”
Before Clemmie could retort, Henry assertively blurted, “Van Cortlandt Manor.”
The group looked over at Henry as he stood up with his arms still clinging to the papers.
“I’ve passed the Van Cortlandt Manor estate many times. It’s halfway between Poughkeepsie and New York City. As far as I know, Stephanus Van Cortlandt’s descendants still reside there.”
“Are you sure?” Maggie asked.
Henry nodded. “Stephanus Van Cortlandt was the former mayor of New York, so it’s a well-known estate. Major Henry’s aunt had married into the Van Cortlandt family, but until tonight I hadn’t realized Pierre Van Cortlandt was Stephanus’ grandson. And if he knew the secret of Poppel and the three sisters, Sarah’s wheel is likely still at Van Cortlandt Manor.”
“Even if that is true and we have narrowed its location down to Van Cortlandt Manor,” Catharine said. “The idea of finding it in the entire Van Cortlandt Manor property is extremely difficult at best and impossible at worst.”
“And didn’t Houten say not to bother,” Clemmie added glumly. “Even if we found the last Sister Wheel, we still don’t have the tool needed to combine all three wheels together in the Horologe.”
A light suddenly went on inside Maggie’s head. “I know where it’s at.”
Maggie had only whispered the words, but she still received everyone’s attention.
“Where what is at?” Catharine asked.
“The key for the wheels,” Maggie explained. “Grandfather Clement’s servant, Charles, used to work at Great Grandmother Elizabeth’s childhood home and he mentioned a key that didn’t work with any of the clocks. It was for the Sisters Wheels. I just know it.”
“So let me understand this,” Clemmie interrupted as he extended his arms with palms out. “Our good man Henry here has a general idea of the last Sister Wheel’s location―a huge manor on a possibly infinite chunk of property miles north of New York. And Maggie has a hunch that a teeny weeny useless clock key is kept somewhere in a large house that probably has had many different families living in it since our great-grandmother called it home.”
“What are you trying to say?” Catharine said with a sigh.
“That we have a better chance at being struck by lightning than ever finding any of these ridiculous items,” Clemmie stated sharply. “What we should do is figure out how to escape and then notify the authorities about our cousins being kidnapped. Or at least report Gardiner and Gertrude missing. I am not too greatly upset at the idea of the Garrisons keeping Francis.”
There was silence in the backroom as the Foundlings and Hostrupp exchanged defeated glances.
Clemmie looked around at the gloomy faces. “Well, if it upsets everyone so much, we can retrieve Francis, too, I suppose.”
“Don’t you see that the Garrisons are the authorities?” Harriet snapped. “There is no one from the outside who can help. The Garrisons are not only protected by the city―they are part of those who control the city.”
“Well, this keeps getting better and better,” Clemmie said, slumping against the wall and angrily folding his arms across his chest.
Nellie stepped forward. “Van Cortlandt Manor is near the village Furnace Brook. Poppel gets its food and supplies from that village and its surrounding farmland. I used to be assigned to the steamboat that travels back and forth from there.”
“You can’t go, Nellie,” Harriet said, clearly upset at the possible suggestion. “If the Garrisons catch you, you’d be kept in the Kelder forever.”
“If Poppel never returns to its time without the Garrisons, I’d happily take that fate,” Nellie replied. “And we’re one Sister Wheel and key away from making that possible.”
“I’ll go with you,” Henry jumped in. “It’s my family’s wheel. I should be the one trying to find it.”
“Very good, very good,” Hostrupp said. “Yes, you two should take the steamboat to Furnace Brook. To Furnace Brook you must go. Just remember―you must remember―that you’ll be out of Poppel and time will return back to normal. So you must be quick―very quick―if we are to do this on Christmas.”
“I’ll go with them to Van Cortlandt Manor,” Catharine said. “The more people we have looking, the better.”
Automatically, Maggie said, “I’ll come, too.”
Maggie tried convincing herself that she wasn’t jealous at the idea of Catharine and Henry traveling together, and she simply volunteered because she didn’t want to be separated from her sister.
“But we still need the key,” Louis pointed out. “Maybe Maggie, Clemmie, and I should go look for that.”
As Maggie peered out the corner of her eye at Henry, who was stealing quick glances of Catharine, Maggie fought the sudden urge to push Louis down the floor’s trapdoor.
Ward nodded. “I can come with you. Houten will cover for me in the shop.”
“Ward and Nellie,” Wendell said meekly. “Do you know what you two are doing?”
“They have nothing to lose,” Lloyd added, hesitantly nodding toward Henry and the Moore grandchildren. “But once you two leave, you can never come back unless the Garrisons are defeated. You do understand that, don’t you?”
Ward and Nellie looked at each other and nodded.
A sudden shift occurred and all the Foundlings started bustling about. Ward began instructing Wendell, Lloyd, and Harriet on what they should do while the rest were away. There was mention of a weapon stash and implementing a secret attack against the Garrisons.
Meanwhile, Hostrupp was busy answering questions from Clemmie and Louis while Maggie watched Nellie talking with Henry and Catharine who were standing closely together. Although Maggie was worried for her sister’s safety, when she saw Catharine and Henry’s shoulders brush against one another, Maggie’s heart stung with resentment. She wished she was going to Van Cortlandt Manor, but before she could a
ttempt one last protest, someone tugged on her sleeve.
Maggie looked down to see Violet’s big, sweet eyes.
“What can I do, Liz―uh―I mean Maggie. What can I do to help?”
Violet spoke with such sincerity that Maggie had to muster all her strength to keep from wrapping the little girl in a hug and then storing her safely away until everything was over.
Maggie bent down to Violet’s level. “I have an important task for you. It seems my cousins, Gardiner and Gertrude, are becoming Foundlings. They’re going to be very scared and will need someone to show them around Poppel. Keep your head down and make sure my cousins do the same until we’re back. And definitely do not tell anyone where we are and what we’re doing. Or that you ever spoke to any of us.”
A hand touched Maggie’s shoulder. It was Henry.
“It’s time to go,” he said solemnly.
Before Maggie could respond, Catharine swooped in and wrapped her younger sister in a tight embrace. “Be ever so safe,” she whispered into Maggie’s ear and then planted a light kiss on her cheek.
“We must be quick,” Nellie said, pulling back her long, blonde hair into a low ponytail. “The steamboat could be leaving any minute for Furnace Brook.”
Nellie headed toward the trapdoor with Catharine and Henry. Before disappearing down the hole, Catharine gave Maggie, Clemmie, and Louis an affectionate look.
“Good luck,” Henry wished to everyone, but Maggie felt it directed her way.
And then they were gone.
Before anyone even had a chance to get overcome with emotions, Ward jumped into action.
“Harriet, take them near the Sleigh Pit. I’ll go to Boeken Kamer to retrieve the directions to their great-grandmother’s house.”
“No, I should be the one to go,” Harriet said. “I know the Boeken Kamer better than anyone.”
Ward sighed. “That’s true.”
“You take Clemmie and Louis down by the Sleigh Pit,” Harriet instructed and then turned to Maggie. “I want you to come with me. You know your great-grandmother’s family history, and we’ll need that information in order to look up how to get there.”
Maggie tensely agreed.
“What are you thinking?” Louis asked Maggie before they parted ways.
Maggie looked over at the Foundlings she had only met that night. Their expressions surprisingly held no trace of fear, but instead were full of determination.
“I’m thinking that our Christmas Eve has only just begun.”
atharine and Henry struggled to keep up with Nellie as they dashed along the Foundling tunnels. Nellie darted with ease through the passages while her followers stumbled behind.
Eventually, the air became colder and a strong scent of salt water hung in the air. A chilly breeze struck the group before they rounded the final corner. Through a stone archway, a canal appeared with a mighty steamboat quietly bobbing in the water.
“Stoomboot hasn’t left yet,” Nellie whispered, pointing to the boat.
“Stoomboot,” Henry repeated. “The Dutch word for steamboat.”
Nellie looked at Henry as though he had made the most obvious observation.
“The shops in Myra Lane… they are all Dutch words as well,” Henry shook his head; mortified he had just realized this.
“Of course, they are,” Nellie said. “Poppel was founded in Belgium after all.”
Henry’s cheeks flushed. His embarrassment was only heightened by Catharine’s amused expression.
“Captain Noble is neither a Garrison nor a Foundling. He’s just an old man who’s compensated well for steering this boat to Furnace Brook and back,” Nellie quietly explained. She motioned for the other two to follow her as she shuffled onto the dock. “He’s not an enemy of the Foundlings, but he certainly will not come to our defense if we’re discovered hidden away on his boat.”
Captain Noble was reclined in a chair on the top deck of the boat. A pipe was stuck between his crinkled lips, resting above his chin’s prickly white beard. His portly chest heaved in and out as he snoozed the evening away.
Nellie carefully led them across the ramp linking the wooden dock and boat. Creeping slowly over the swaying deck, they kept their eyes on the old captain. But he didn’t stir even when Nellie opened one of the hull’s hatches.
Nellie gestured for Catharine and Henry to jump down the hatch. And as the three of them landed on a pile of flour sacks below, footsteps were heard stampeding toward the steamboat.
“Captain Noble,” one Garrison called, but after getting no response he loudly repeated, “CAPTAIN NOBLE!”
“Wha―What?” Captain Noble jerked awake. His pipe clattered against the deck.
Catharine, Henry, and Nellie gathered around the lattice hatch to listen.
“Captain Noble, we are here to inspect the boat. We must make sure the Van Cortlandt descendants aren’t trying to escape,” the voice said and then added harshly. “Since you clearly haven’t been awake long enough to guard the one vessel that leaves Poppel.”
“Van Cortlandt descendants?” Captain Noble repeated with a yawn. “What in the blazes are you blathering about?”
Ignoring the captain, the Garrison turned to his men. “Search the lower compartments.”
Nellie dragged Catharine and Henry down into the hull where paths were cleared between the mounds of crates and sacks.
“Over here.” Nellie pulled aside a heavy sack at the far end of the hull.
Catharine slipped behind the sacks, but it was apparent that there was only room in the compartment for two people. Henry gestured for Nellie to take the final spot, but she rolled her eyes and shoved Henry down next to Catharine. Nellie had just enough time to cover their bodies before the Garrisons stormed down from the deck, raining into the hull like a black-coated flood.
“You there!” a Garrison shouted. “What are you doing?”
Catharine and Henry nervously listened from their hiding space.
“I am going to visit Furnace Brook,” Nellie explained in a steady voice.
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
“Surely, you know about the missing Van Cortlandt descendants,” the Garrison snidely said.
“Yes, but I have not seen anything around here,” Nellie lied. “I’m going to visit Furnace Brook and its workers, as I do every Christmas. You can ask Captain Noble, if you don’t believe me.”
“Search around! See what you can find,” the Garrison leader ordered, still eyeing Nellie suspiciously.
The Garrisons began peeking around the crates while Nellie continued to defend herself against the inquisitive Garrison.
“You can ask any worker at Poppel. They know I visit Furnace Brook when I can,” Nellie stated firmly.
A pair of Garrisons inched toward the concealed Van Cortlandt descendants. As they began to take turns pulling aside sacks, Nellie knew that in only a matter of time, Catharine and Henry would be discovered.
“My presence on this steamboat is not unusual,” Nellie said as she watched the Garrisons out of the corner of her eye. They reached for the sacks hiding Catharine and Henry.
“I am offended by your questioning!” Nellie shouted. As planned, the Garrisons were taken aback by her outburst and momentarily turned away from the sacks.
“I insist that you have your men leave this boat so it may continue to Furnace Brook as planned.”
But the Garrisons went back to ignoring the agitated Foundling, and Nellie watched in horror as they grasped the sacks concealing Henry and Catharine.
Holding her breath, Nellie braced for the inevitable.
“No one else is down here,” a Garrison declared from the other end of the hull.
And after being only a moment away from discovering the hidden Van Cortlandt descendants, the Garrisons let go of the sacks and walked back to the others.
Nellie’s relief was short-lived, however.
“Very well,” the leader replied. “Everyone here will carry on to Furnace
Brook in case something was overlooked.” He paused before adding, “In the meantime, I’ll take this Foundling to the Kelder.”
“But… but… I have nothing to do with the Van Cortlandt descendants,” Nellie cried as the Garrisons hauled her away. “I had nothing to do with it! Don’t put me in the Kelder!”
Nellie’s screams echoed throughout the hull until there was only silence.
Harriet pushed a bookcase open and peered out of the gap. After confirming the Boeken Kamer was empty, Harriet stepped out and gestured for Maggie to follow.
“There is also a door hidden behind the maroon curtains in the banquet hall that leads here. But it’s safer to use the tunnels,” Harriet explained. “The Garrisons rarely monitor this place. It no longer holds much value to them.”
The Boeken Kamer was covered ceiling-to-floor with stacks of old books. Harriet walked around tables piled high with thick, worn tomes. Running her hand across a few battered covers, she continued proudly, “Boeken Kamer houses all of Poppel’s records. They go as far back as the fifth century when Nikolas of Myra and the three sisters arrived in Belgium. Only a few Foundlings work in the Boeken Kamer. We make sure all the records of the city and its inhabitants are kept up-to-date by what is reported to us from those working the Sleigh Pit.”
“So you are bookkeepers,” Maggie said simply.
Harriet huffed. “It’s a rather important position. Poppel could not run without the records. Not only would we not know how to navigate the Sleigh Pit, what needs to be delivered and to where, but the entire history of Poppel would be lost.”
After glancing around again, Harriet pulled Maggie onto a ladder that connected to the room’s second level of bookcases.
“There’s something you should see before we find the Van Cortlandt address. But we must be quick,” Harriet muttered under her breath as though someone could be listening.
Harriet shuffled along the second level’s narrow ledge. Although the path in front of the bookcases was railed, Maggie still latched onto the bookshelves as she tried to stay close to Harriet.
Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) Page 12
