The Amber Pendant

by Imogen White

  “Who is the boy who helped you?” Rose asked. “Might he help us now?”

  “No. His name was Anthony Funnel, but he died abroad in a terrible accident some forty years ago. A great tragedy. Such a lovely boy.” Enna shook her head.

  Rose recalled Miss Templeforth mentioning Anthony Funnel’s name before. But he’s no good to us dead, she thought.

  “So how can we find who has the other pendant, and do you think they already have Miss Templeforth’s?” Rui asked.

  “Come, let us see what we can discover from the skrying waters.” Enna gestured to the strange black bowl.

  Skrying waters? Rose stared at the curious basin set before them.

  “This flask contains the chalybeate waters from outside,” Enna said, withdrawing it from her pocket. “The waters have been considered health-giving for hundreds of years. They contain salts and iron which make them red. But they can be magical too, in the right hands.” The candlelight danced across her multicoloured rings. “The waters talk to me through my skrying bowl.”

  “They do?” Rose said in awe.

  “This is how you read your clients’ futures!” Rui marvelled. “With this kind of magic on our side, how can we possibly fail? Sherlock Holmes – this case will shortly be solved.”

  “If only it were so straightforward.” Enna smiled at him. “The ways of the cup and the pendants are not easy to interpret. The magic that accompanies them is very old and well shielded. But we can try.”

  Rose studied the curious bowl set in the middle of the table. It was carved from a lump of black rock, its centre polished into a deep curve.

  “It was the waters that showed you to me, Rose – in the workhouse. I came to find you at once. I had been watching closely for news, knowing that Lucile’s time was drawing near.”

  Popping the crystal stopper from her flask, Enna poured some of the contents into the bowl. The red water gathered in the black basin forming a cloudy pool which shifted beneath the still surface. The candle flame grew long and Rose suddenly felt very cold.

  Enna stared into the bowl, holding her curls back. The waters within eddied and stirred. Enna looked up sharply, her blue eyes wild and searching.

  “The waters speak…”

  Rose’s skin tingled, her curiosity and anticipation cartwheeling. She stared into the bowl, but couldn’t see or hear anything.

  “They tell me that your two halves are what make you special, Rose. They have said this to me before, when you were first revealed to me.”

  Rose swallowed as she glanced at her half-completed face in the tapestry. “What halves?”

  “You must discover what that means for yourself. The pendant could help you. We must find it.” Enna drew back her black curls once more as she leaned back over the bowl. “The pendant is no longer in Sackville Road, but it is not too far away. It…yearns for you, Rose.”

  Rose nodded. “Ask ’em where I can find it?” she begged, her grey eyes wide and glittering.

  “The image has gone. Wait, now it is showing me a man clutching a thick silver book of some kind, with an eye on its cover?” Enna looked up. “The book is somehow important. And I recognize this man – I’ve seen him before, I saw him with you –” she turned to Rui – “when I delivered Miss Templeforth’s note to you, outside the train station at Hove. Who is he?”

  “Mr Gupta!” The name flew from Rose’s mouth. “The one whose footprints we saw outside here.”

  “Wait!” Enna’s voice sounded urgent. “The waters are showing me something else.”

  “What is it, Enna? What have you seen?” Rose squinted into the bowl. The waters swirled in the basin, thick with white particles, but she couldn’t see anything in them at all. The candle flame grew fierce and sparks flew from it.

  “The museum is not safe, the cup is in peril. They seek the other pendant…your pendant.”

  “So they ain’t got it?” Rose rallied.

  “And…the waters say someone is in mortal danger, someone is going to be…murdered.”

  “WHO?” they both shouted together.

  “I see the symbol of the black sun. It’s blocked me!”

  The candle puffed out, plunging them into darkness. Rose shrieked, and Rui grabbed her arm. “Elephas Maximus!” he exclaimed.

  Enna flung open the caravan doors. The weak evening light entered, cold and unwelcoming.

  “You must leave at once. It is not safe for you both here.” Enna pulled her shawl up over her head. “I am going to the museum. I saw Verrulf’s followers were there: twelve men who hold power and influence in the local area. If they plan to remove the cup, I will uncover who they are and stop them.”

  “We will come with you,” Rui said with gusto.

  “NO…no.” Enna drew a deep breath. “You must not be seen. It is vital that Rose stays undetected. Protect her, Rui.”

  Rui nodded.

  Enna picked up her skrying bowl and, standing on the top of the caravan’s ladder, she emptied the water onto the grass outside.

  “Go back to the house –” Enna instructed, placing the empty skrying bowl back on the table – “and wait for me there. I will return to you by six o’clock. If I don’t…” Her eyes trailed to the ceiling. “Do what you can without me.” She grabbed her flask of water and tucked it in her dress pocket. “Hurry,” Enna said, ushering them to leave.

  Outside, dusk had painted everything grey, and dead leaves floated around them on smoke-scented breeze.

  “B-but—” Rose began, from the bottom of the wooden steps.

  Enna turned and held her shoulders, shaking her gently. “See if the pendant calls to you again, Rose. Believe in yourself. But stay vigilant; both of you.” She shot a fierce look between the two of them. “There is a great danger hanging over us. Be careful. When I return we will set about locating your pendant. We must find it before Verrulf’s followers can use it. Rose, with your power over it, I believe we can find all the answers we seek. Trust no one.”

  Shortly after five o’clock, the pair charged up Sackville Road towards the house. Dusk threw long shadows from the smart townhouses into the street. All was silent.

  “Let’s get back in the house, I don’t feel safe out here,” Rose said. Her thoughts switched to Mr Crank and Mr Gupta, who surely would have returned by now, and the trouble she was going to be in for leaving. Should she tell the butler? Would he even believe her if she did? Can we trust him anyway? No. She shivered, remembering Enna’s words. We can’t trust no one.

  “Murder, Rose?” Rui said as he hurried along by her side. “Whatever are we involved in?”

  Rose felt the same fear that she saw on Rui’s face. “Enna won’t let no one get murdered.” She wiped beads of perspiration from her brow.

  Ching Ching Ching Ching!

  A bell rang out behind them, and Rui instinctively pushed Rose against the railings next to them.

  “Coming through!” A boy of about their age swooped towards them on a bicycle, holding a long pole like a knight’s lance.

  “What on earth!” Rui exclaimed, trying to protect Rose’s body with his own. Rose squeezed out from behind him.

  “It’s only the lampy.” Rose exhaled. The boy took aim at the street lamp a little way ahead and with one swift twist of his pole, lit the wick. Without dismounting he sped off to the next.

  The welcome light flooded the pavement around them as they hovered between the two lions at the entrance to the house. Rose looked up at the unlit windows of number thirteen Sackville Road.

  “That’s odd. It looks like no one’s in? Mr Crank and Mr Gupta should be back by now.” And we should be in the doghouse for leaving.

  “Oi! Rose and Master Rui. Is that you? Where’ve ya been?” Jack Billings’s voice carried from the laundry basement next door. “Something terrible has happened.”

  “Wait up.” Rose unlocked the metal gate to the kitchen yard, her mind going back over the events of the day. What more awful things could have happened? Rui followed beh
ind her down the steps before she climbed onto the upturned pail and peered over the wall. “Where is everyone?”

  Jack Billings scurried towards her, his feet slipping in Rui’s brocade slippers, the golden gown sweeping up the dirt behind him.

  “What d’you look like?” Rose giggled, suddenly feeling reassured at the sight of someone she knew. Rui scrambled up next to her, supporting his weight on his arms.

  “Why, Your Highness,” Rui added, bobbing his head.

  Jack lifted his heavy fringe, revealing the panicked eyes beneath. “It’s all been going on at your place,” he gulped. “The house is empty now. Nanna Potts said John the butler’s gone to see his ma. In a right old state…and…something awful’s happened. I’ve been looking out for you coming back and—”

  “Hurry up and spit it out, Jack Billings, this is taking too long.”

  “Rose, listen up. This is serious,” Jack panted. “The police, Rose. They was ’ere.”

  “Why, what you done?”

  “No, it ain’t me.” He shook his head. “Not this time.” He glanced at Rui. “They said they’d found the body of a one-handed man wearing a ruby turban down by the footings of the West Pier.” His wide eyes met Rui’s. “They said he’d been…murdered.”

  Rui slumped over the kitchen table and sobbed into his arms, his crumpled deerstalker hat discarded next to him. The shock of Mr Gupta’s murder had stolen all his clever words and Rose thought he looked broken.

  She placed her arm around him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Rose couldn’t work out who’d do away with Mr Gupta or why. Did they kill him to get the missing pendant he’d stolen? And if so, what might they do to her and Rui if they were discovered meddling?

  She’d told Jack Billings to stay away so Rui could grieve in peace. But really she didn’t want him sniffing out information on what was going on. It was safer for him that way.

  Rui picked at the sleeves of his grubby disguise. “It’s just…it’s just, I feel so alone in this strange place. Both the people I knew here are now dead. First Miss T and now Mr Gupta. And I can’t make sense of any of it. In truth, I’m…I’m scared, Rose.”

  Rose nodded. “Me too, Rui,” she spoke softly. “I thought coming here to work in this big house was gonna be the start of something new for me – away from the workhouse, away from Mrs Gritt, the mean governess there – I thought this was somewhere I would be…safe. Things haven’t turned out like I’d hoped. And I know how it feels to be lonely too.” She remembered the penance cupboard with a chill. “It can be frightening. But…the thing is, you ain’t alone, Rui, and nor am I.” She wiped away his tears with her thumbs. “We got each other now. And remember –” she kneeled beside him – “we’ve got a mystery to solve.”

  “Indeed we have.” Rui gripped her hand. “Thank you, Rose.” He drew in a long breath.

  “And Enna should be here soon,” Rose rallied, “and she can get hold of your uncle if you want, and—”

  “No, no, no, my uncle would insist I return immediately. I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving you! I made a promise to Miss T to help and protect you. To keep you safe. I’m not about to break that promise.”

  Keep me safe. Rose shivered. Two people are already dead, she grimaced, and I’ve only known about the pendant for three days. The grand house suddenly felt very big, empty and cold. She didn’t feel safe at all. Standing, she pulled away the black shroud from the kitchen clock – all the timepieces and mirrors in the house were covered, following Miss Templeforth’s death that morning.

  “It’s not far off six now.” Rose tried to hide the quiver in her voice. “Enna shouldn’t be long. Hopefully she’s found out more at the museum.” But a horrible feeling gnawed at her. What if she bumped into whoever murdered Mr Gupta? Might they do something to her too? And what if they already had the cup and both pendants?

  Rui’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. “We are no good to anyone just sitting about moping. We should continue our investigation. The book!” he announced, his eyes fierce.

  “Yes!” Rose looked up; she had forgotten all about it. “Mr Gupta’s journal. Enna said it was important. D’you reckon they took it, you know…when they…” She thought of the picture Mr Gupta had shown them in the library, with the sketch of the Amber Cup. “Do you s’pose it might have something important in it? About the cup…? About my pendant?” Rose’s eyes blazed.

  “Maybe! We should check his room.” Rui pulled his detective hat back on.

  They set off up into the dark house. Rose turned on the lobby lights as they passed. The stuffed animals glared down at them as they climbed the grand staircase two steps at a time. Finally, they reached Mr Gupta’s room.

  “It’s open!” Rui gasped. “He would never leave it unlocked. He always kept his belongings under lock and key on the boat. This is most unusual.”

  Rui was right. Rose remembered she’d seen Mr Gupta locking his bedroom door as soon as he arrived at the house.

  They peered in. Loose feathers from ruined bed pillows covered everything, ripped-up books and pulled-out drawers were scattered around the room. Mr Gupta’s coloured tunics spilled out of an upturned wooden trunk.

  “It’s been done over!” Rose said, marching inside.

  A sharp breeze sent some loose pages of paper up into the air. Rose hurried towards the window ledge where the lace curtains blew in. Sweeping them aside, she leaned out. A flat roof jutted from the back of the house, just a short distance below. “They must have broke in through this window.”

  Rui slumped onto the messed-up bed and Rose joined him.

  “What now?” Rose asked, staring at the mess. “None of this is making any sense.” Rose leafed through some of the debris, but it was obvious whoever had done this had made a thorough job of it.

  “Enna’s skrying waters were trying to warn us of Mr Gupta’s murder, not of his involvement.” Rui swung around to face her.

  Rose wasn’t so sure about Mr Gupta not being involved. She still felt certain he had taken the pendant, but she didn’t want to upset Rui any more than he already was, so she kept quiet.

  “Mr Gupta is an innocent man. I owe it to him to solve this mystery and prove his innocence. He has paid the highest price,” Rui began. “And we may well have been the last people to see Mr Gupta – when he was with that stranger in the Pleasure Gardens.”

  “The one who smoked them Wild Woodbines,” Rose added. “And they exchanged something.” Like a stolen pendant, she thought to herself.

  “Correct! So, the questions remain: where did they go next, and what were they discussing?” Rui pondered. “We know they discovered Mr Gupta’s body under the West Pier, and—”

  Just then something shot through the open window, ripping the curtain from its hooks. A furry ball of thrashing limbs thumped onto the floor ahead of them, writhing about, all entangled in lace.

  “Bahula!” Rui cried.

  Mr Gupta’s monkey emerged, dishevelled. He pulled away the ripped material. Jumping free he stood on the ruined curtain and shrieked.

  Bahula’s red hat had gone and his waistcoat had a nasty rip under the arm. “He looks in a dreadful state. Shh, Bahula,” Rui hushed, offering his hand for Bahula to sniff. “Whatever happened to you?” Rui straightened. “He’s terrified.”

  “Or angry,” Rose said, keeping her distance.

  Bahula pointed at the window. “Ah ah ah oo oo OO!” he screeched, his hair on end.

  “It’s like he is trying to speak.” Rui kneeled down and rubbed the creature’s head. Bahula calmed, his tiny shoulders still trembling. He lifted a thin arm onto Rui’s shoulder. Rui pulled him into a cuddle.

  “Rose, do you think he saw what happened to Mr Gupta?”

  “EE ee ee OO oo oo!” Bahula bounded across to the furthest corner of the room and began flinging Mr Gupta’s colourful belongings in every direction.

  “I think he’s lost his marbles. Gone crackers,” Rose muttered. “Should we trap
him in the cupboard and call someone to get rid of him?”

  “Absolutely not, Rose!” Rui chided. “It’s like he is trying to show us something.”

  Bahula clawed at the floorboards he’d exposed and looked back at them, his short tail a-twitch.

  Rui kneeled by his side and ran his hand over the cleared space, stopping as one of the boards wobbled.

  “This floorboard is loose!” Rui said.

  “Well I never!” Rose watched him lever it up.

  Bahula dashed backwards and forwards, chattering. Rui removed the board and, placing it to one side, peered into the darkness beneath. Rolling up his sleeve he reached in up to his shoulder.

  “Well?” Rose asked.

  His green eyes glittered. “I have something!” Grinning, he withdrew a thick silver book.

  “Is that Mr Gupta’s?” Rose crouched beside him.

  “I believe so. Clever creatures, monkeys, and our Bahula is no exception. The gods are on our side, Rose.” Rui beamed.

  He held the book aloft, and the enamel eye on the cover glimmered in the lamplight. “I think we have found our first clue, or maybe even the advantage.” He leaned over and patted Bahula’s head. “And you, my hairy friend, you are…”

  “Proper clever!” Rose finished off, and she meant it. Bahula tilted his head and grinned at her. Perhaps, Rose thought, this monkey isn’t such a rotter after all.

  Rose and Rui lay on the floor of Mr Gupta’s room, the book opened flat in front of them. Rui flicked through the singed pages.

  “What’s that writing, Rui? It looks like more code,” Rose asked.

  Rui sat up rolling his shoulders. “It is a very rare form of an ancient scripture called Sanskrit. Not understood by many.”

  “Can you read it?” she asked.

  “Yes, Rose.” His eyes widened with disbelief. “It’s the strangest thing. On the voyage over here I told you Mr Gupta had taught me to translate some ancient scripture. Well this is the same type! It’s as though he knew I may have need of it.”