The Red Pearl

by C. K. Brooke

  Robin lay back, watching the darkening desert. “It’s said that more than a thousand years ago, the largest pearl known to man was discovered in the reefs of Axacola. It was large as a plum, and red as wine, the most valuable jewel in all existence.”

  Antonia listened as the first trace of the moon imprinted on the evening sky.

  “It was immediately brought to the Queen of Ancient Elphysia—that’s modern day Elsland, now—who governed our continent, Otlantica, at the time. She and her daughters kept it in their jealous possession for generations, until the Torcan-Elphysian War.

  “When the Torcs seized the Elphysians’ Grand Palace and everything in it, the Red Pearl was supposed to be among their most prized lootings. Yet, as the story goes, the last Elphysian Queen had already hidden it, far away. Rumor has it, she enlisted someone to bury it near its original place of discovery, in Axacola, to be uncovered again only when the Torcs were defeated, and Elphysia ruled once more.”

  He took in a breath. “And so, the man who hid the pearl created a map to guide him, or his sons after him, back to the treasure, once Elphysia regained her power. But as we know, the great empire never did return to sovereignty. And everything that once made Elphysia great—its royal bloodline, its language and architecture—has long since faded into antiquity. All that remains is…”

  “The religion,” Antonia finished for him. She well knew that the goddess Azea, whom she worshipped, along with all of Otlanica’s other deities, were originally borne of the Ancient Elphysian pantheon.

  Robin nodded. “Well, the map was lost to history for centuries. In fact, most believed it never to have existed at all. Indeed, many still think the pearl itself is only legend.

  “But one fearless adventurer,” his eyes shone, “by the name of Ricardo Rivera, resolved to seek it, more than sixty years ago. Incredibly, he found the map. Alas, he perished tragically on his search for the pearl. I’m told he was hiking through the canyons and fell.”

  Antonia swallowed.

  “A man after my own heart, Ricardo was, although he died long before I was ever born.” Robin looked wistful. “One could say I’ve since become his greatest disciple. From the age of fourteen, I’ve been hunting down the map he found. And only mere moons ago did I actually obtain it!”

  At this, Antonia looked away. That folded piece of vellum she’d lifted from the ground and freely handed to Robin’s wavy-haired ex-girlfriend was that very map? Antonia had touched it, had held such a significant artifact in her own hands? “Do you mean to say,” she gathered her unsteady breaths, “that yours is the map to the Red Pearl?”

  He nodded, solemn.

  She suddenly understood how outrageous, how foolish it must’ve appeared when she’d so easily given it up, that morning in the brush. Of course, the woman, Rowena, had been aiming a pistol at them. But still, the map—were it truly the legendary map to the legendary pearl—would’ve been worth fighting for. No wonder Robin had been so angry with Antonia.

  “You found Ricardo’s map,” she whispered, “after twelve years of searching. Yet, the moment I appeared, I…gave it away, just like that.” Her shame was unbearable.

  But his hand fell upon hers. “It’s as we both said,” he reminded her. “If you hadn’t acted, I’d have likely been shot, even killed.”

  Antonia’s pulse thumped, for Robin stared at her beneath the night sky, his hand remaining over hers, warming her in the cool shadows. She knew not what he intended to do next. Nervous, she moistened her lips. “S-so tell me how you found Ricardo Rivera’s map.”

  All too soon, he stiffened, promptly removing his hand and returning to repose in his blankets. “That’s enough storytelling for one night,” he grunted. “We both ought to be resting. So…goodnight.” With that, he rolled onto his side, saying no more, while Maverick nestled beside him.

  Antonia looked down, wondering what she’d said to provoke his sudden shift in demeanor. With a sinking sensation she couldn’t quite identify, she tucked herself into Miriam Watkins’s unused bedroll. It was remarkably warm, and she was relieved not to detect the rocky ground beneath the plush padding. She took a final moment to appreciate the first stars of night winking down at her, before shutting her eyes and drifting into a dream-filled slumber.

  ROBIN SEEMED IN CHEERFUL SPIRITS the following morning as they rolled up their bedding, shared a loaf of bread for breakfast, and piled back into the horseless carriage for another day’s drive, this time entirely through the desert. The sandy range extended for miles, through which they drove at full speed, until Robin had to refuel the vehicle with one of the many canisters of oil his father had provided them.

  They laughed and shared tales over the engine’s rumbling, and Antonia felt particularly lighthearted by the time they decided to park for a late lunch. Robin and Maverick set off down the hill to stretch and relieve themselves, while she stayed behind to gather a picnic.

  Antonia sorted through the backseat’s contents and found a quaint straw basket and wide blanket. Poring through their food rations, she added to the basket two pears, more bread, a wedge of cheese, and a glass bottle of water to share.

  The motor still ran, and the young woman came over to the driver’s seat and turned the key, shutting off the engine. Promptly, she plucked the key from the ignition and tucked it safely into the straw basket with the food.

  Presently, she heard Robin’s voice calling out to his dog over the arid breeze. Eager to present him with lunch, Antonia set out in search of him, making her way downhill. Her sandals kicked up pebbles and dust, and she hummed pleasantly to herself, admiring the cacti and their prickly arms. She dared not prod them, lest she be pricked, but they were rather beautiful, in their own untouchable way.

  It was a lovely afternoon in the Pirsi Desert, the sun overhead generous in its brilliance, the distant mountains magnificent and inspiring. For a moment, Antonia wondered whether Elat would be so exotic, and how the King’s courts would compare to this place, when she finally made it there. Yet, the thought made her feel odd, especially upon realizing that she’d gone the last few days with little thought of Elat. Perhaps she’d not go so far as to say she was actually starting to enjoy herself on Robin’s mission, but…

  Her basket jolted. Raising it, she swiveled around to see what had nipped it. Antonia lost her breath. Chest and haunches tensed, the culprit stared directly into her eyes. The predatory stare, the pointed ears—it was all too reminiscent of that awful day, so long ago…

  Panic raised in her breast. She knew she ought to holler, clap her hands, shoo it away; she was no longer a child, for heaven’s sake! But her deep-set trauma was paralyzing. With her feet glued to the ground, she was incapable of clear thought, of movement. She became fear itself. She stared back at the wild dog with one silent prayer urging through her head like a mantra: Not again. Not again….

  The coyote bumped its snout aggressively against the basket once more, undoubtedly smelling the contents therein. Antonia could see the shape of its ribs through its bristly, fox-brown fur. The creature was starving, desperate. It was certain to attack if she held out much longer.

  A deep bellow of barking came from behind. Antonia gasped, raising her hands to her ears in terror and dropping the basket to the ground. In a flash of black, Maverick bounded before her, snarling at the coyote and peddling his paws. Antonia screamed as the coyote lunged. But Maverick pounced on it, clamping his teeth over the animal’s throat.

  “Annie!” Robin raced up the hill, his half-buttoned blouse clinging to his chest with perspiration. “Maverick!”

  At the sound of his master’s voice, the black dog released his opponent and turned. The coyote gripped the basket handle between sharp, spindly fangs, and took off at a loping run toward the mountain range.

  “No!” Antonia screeched, darting after it, but was too late. The creature disappeared around a series of turns she could not mak
e out, brown fur camouflaging with the scenery. She collapsed to her knees, overcome with breathless sobs. “No.”

  Robin knelt beside her. “What on earth was that?” He peered out to the mountains, into which the wild creature had scrambled off.

  “C-coyote,” Antonia choked, eyes streaming. It was bad enough she’d given away his map. But now…

  He wrapped an arm around her. “It’s all right.” His voice was gentle, which only made her weep harder. “I know you hate dogs. But it’s gone now. No need to be so shaken.”

  “You don’t understand,” she cried, pulling away. She couldn’t bear to be comforted by him when her own irrational phobia had just permitted an unthinkable wrong be done against the man and his kindly father. “The coyote took the basket! And the basket had our f-food inside, and—”

  Robin watched her patiently. She dropped her face into her hands. She didn’t wish to witness his expression when she finally informed him: “The key.”

  There came a long pause. “Key?” he finally asked.

  “To the horseless carriage.”

  He said nothing at first, and Antonia kept her face buried. She was afraid to look at him, fearful that he might shout at her, curse her, banish her. And she would surely deserve it.

  “I thought I’d left the key in the ignition,” he said, very quietly.

  “I removed it,” she whimpered, “and put it in the basket for safekeeping.”

  He stared in disbelief. “That carriage is Thad’s only prototype,” he murmured. “If we can’t drive her out of the desert, then she’s stuck here for good, to rot. I promised him I’d take excellent care of it…”

  “Oh, Robin.” Antonia shook her head in despair. “I’m so sorry. You’ll never forgive me. Your father—” she hiccupped—“who was so kind to me, will be h-heartbroken.” Her face seared with tears. “I don’t deserve any more of your…or your family’s…charity. I understand…if you choose to leave me here.”

  “And go where?” He emitted a curt laugh, startling her. “Without the carriage, we’re both stranded.”

  She finally dared to look at him. “Do you hate me?”

  He massaged his jaw, where a trace of reddish beard was returning. “No, Antonia. I don’t hate you.” Abruptly, he rose to his feet. “Only, I think you need to overcome your fear of dogs. You’ve been with Maverick for days now, and he’s not harmed you, has he? As a matter of fact, just now, he was protecting you.”

  Antonia sniffled. Why, although his booming bark had terrified her, causing her to drop the basket in the first place, Maverick had certainly come to her rescue, fighting off the coyote in her defense. With trepidation, she extended an arm to the panting dog, and patted its head. It thumped its tail appreciatively.

  “Now, up you get,” said Robin, although he turned his back and didn’t offer his hand. Antonia carefully rose, dusting off her borrowed gown.

  The man, who insisted he did not hate her, did not speak to her again for the rest of the day.

  THEIR SECOND NIGHT IN THE desert was notably chilly. They’d not gone anywhere, as Rob was hesitant to leave the prototype behind. Surely, there ought to be some way to mobilize it. If they were creative and figured something out, they could continue on their journey with it, or at least return it to Thad.

  Rob sighed. He never should have left the key in the ignition. Just like his map, he should’ve kept it on his person, at all times. How could he have been so remiss? Hadn’t he learned that people were unreliable, untrustworthy?

  Including him.

  The horseless carriage was an incredible invention. He couldn’t imagine how long it must’ve taken his father to execute. And now, all of Thad’s tremendous work was gone, yet again, like the talking pocket watch. And this time, it was Rob’s fault.

  He could hardly bear to look at Antonia as he helped her erect the tent for the night. Still unable to speak to her, he made his own bed in the carriage. At least if he stayed with the thing, he could hope for its safety, ensuring that no thief or wild animal would come and carry off its parts, or more of their supplies, during the night.

  Shadows fell about him, and he thought he felt the girl’s presence, could just see her light veil of hair as she approached him with hesitation. Perhaps she was about to bid him goodnight. But Rob closed his eyes and feigned sleep, until her presence departed him. He felt guilty, and yet, he didn’t know what he wished to say to her. For now, it was nothing.

  Dawn came and went, but he remained in the carriage, lethargy overtaking him with his indecision. He knew not whether they could truly make it out of the desert on foot with limited supplies. Surely, they couldn’t carry everything they’d brought. The question was, what could they stand to abandon?

  Certainly, they needed water. Yet, like a fool, Rob had only brought it in crates of glass bottles. They would be far too heavy to carry. Either way, their supply would run low, while they were in, of all places, the desert.

  It wasn’t until early afternoon when Antonia drew toward him again. Rob remained stony as she reached into the backseat and extracted a bottle from one of the crates. But she only made a confused sort of sound before putting it back and lifting another. “Strange,” she murmured.

  In spite of himself, Rob looked up. “What’s strange?”

  “Why are these bottles empty?”

  He leapt down from the driver’s bench. “What are you talking about?”

  She stepped aside, allowing him to access the crates. One by one, Rob plucked up the glass bottles. They were, indeed, empty. Overcome with dread, he patted the crates’ bases. The wood was soaked, and water had flooded through the creases, dampening their supplies beneath. “Oh, no.”

  Antonia gasped behind his shoulder. “All the water has leaked out!”

  Rob shook his head in disbelief. “The motor’s vibration must’ve caused them to bump against each other and crack.” His heart thudded. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, after everything else…

  “I thought I heard them clanging together while we drove,” the girl mumbled.

  Furious, Rob hoisted up one of the crates and threw it to the ground with a crash. “How many full bottles have we left?” he demanded, although he was well aware she wouldn’t know the answer.

  Antonia did not respond. With fear in her eyes, she backed away as Rob hurled another crate out of the carriage. It landed atop the first, and the empty bottles shattered. Chest heaving, he urged himself to regain his calm. He couldn’t bear the way she was looking at him now, terrified as though he were a viper poised to strike. Though angry, he’d never lay a hand on her. Hadn’t she figured that by now?

  He turned to the last crate remaining in the carriage. The bottles appeared full. He picked one up and held it to the sunlight. “No leaks,” he grunted. He shoved it back into the crate. “A dozen is all we’ve left. Between the three of us,” he indicated Maverick, “they won’t last more than a few days.”

  “How long will it take us to walk through the desert?”

  “I don’t know. More than a week, perhaps.”

  The girl exhaled. “I did warn you.”

  “Of what?” he snapped.

  “Of driving through the desert! I said it mightn’t be the best idea—”

  “Oh, because you’re so bloody full of good ideas, are you?” Rob’s neck burned as he rounded on her. “Handing my map over to Rowena Wildaison, allowing Thad’s key to be snatched up by a wild coyote! Please, I beseech you, O Priestess, share with me more of your ingenious ideas. Perhaps next time, you’ll actually succeed in wrecking all of my dreams and possessions!”

  Her eyes welled, making him feel, if possible, worse. “Unless you’ve suffered a sudden bout of amnesia,” she declared quaveringly, “you might recall that you are the one who forced me on this trip with you in the first place! I never wanted to come along. I was on my way to Elat
!”

  “Then go to Elat!” he roared, pointing east. “And good luck to you!”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she did not raise a hand to wipe them. “That is not fair,” she growled. “You cannot write me off. Not after dragging me all the way out here!”

  She was making him sound more horrid than he reckoned he was.

  “All I know,” she hissed, inching nearer, “is that when I do get to Elat, one thing shall be certain, Robin Watkins: I shall forget all about you and your gruff manner, your rude temper, your shameless lack of courtesy. And I will marry a knight who treats me like a proper lady, as a gentleman ought to. You, and all of this,” she gestured disdainfully at the parched scenery around them, “will reduce to naught but a fleeting memory, bothersome yet insignificant as a mosquito, while I proceed to live a life of true exploration and adventure.

  “Meanwhile, where shall you be?” Her blue eyes flashed. “Oh, yes; still on your wild goose chase for a measly jewel that may or may not exist.”

  Her words cut him. For a moment, all Rob could do was glower at her. In response, she folded her arms, her nose wrinkled in distaste, those pouty lips puckered irresistibly…

  Irresistibly?

  A tempest of raw, primal emotion mounted within him as he stared at those moist, swollen lips. He was altogether furious with her impulsive nonsense, wounded by her cool dismissal and low opinion of him, and tormented still by the visceral tension of another sort, which had undeniably been forging between them. Simply forget all about him, would she?

  He couldn’t restrain his indignation at the notion. Abandoning all propriety, he seized her by the waist. She sucked in a breath of surprise. Yet, even amidst his maddening war of conflicting feelings for her, he knew he wanted to imbibe her oncoming exhalation.

  Closing his eyes, Rob pressed his mouth over hers, shivering as those plump, wet lips rolled against his. Despite his every reservation, he pulled her warm body into him. All he could absorb in that instant was how succulent her mouth felt, how simultaneously relieving and inciting it was to finally taste her, consume her in those in those moments of sheer fervor…