Rathbone reached forward with an outstretched hand, and Ramsey was powerless to stop him from curling his fingers around the chain that held the set of silver keys. He yanked, hard, pulling his prize greedily toward him. “Everything you’ve ever plundered, sealed away in unbreakable chests that only these keys can open,” he mused, in a singsong voice. “That is what you were boasting about, isn’t it? Well, it may take a while for my friends and me to find them all again, but you can consider them a long-overdue payment for my services! I’m resigning my position, by the way, not that you need a crew anymore.”
For a moment it looked like Rathbone was ready to fling Ramsey into the sea, and then something about the hand he was clutching caught his eye. “A black diamond ring,” he commented. “Oh, but that’s your wedding ring, isn’t it? I’d quite forgotten you had someone special back home.”
Greedily, his fingers prized the thin band from around Ramsey’s bloodstained digit, pulling it free and slipping it onto his own index finger. “Perhaps you should have stayed at home with your feet under the kitchen table instead of getting in my way all these years. Though I suppose she can’t have been that special, not if you left her behind to come and play at being a pirate.” He tutted. “I wondered if she knew how little you really cared about her.”
At this, a wordless, primal snarl shook Ramsey’s whole body, and he leapt forward like a predator springing for the kill. Had Rathbone not smartly released his grip and cast the captain disdainfully overboard at that moment, Ramsey would surely have ripped the man apart.
As it was, his bearlike form simply plummeted, hands clutching uselessly at thin air, and Ramsey briefly struck the hull of the Magpie’s Wing with a dismal crunch before disappearing under the waves.
LARINNA
Sword in one hand and lantern in the other, Adelheid strode confidently down the newly opened corridor, though she’d taken fewer than a dozen paces when she felt something plucking at her sleeve. To her surprise, she realized it was Faizel. His face, what she could see of it in the lamplight, displayed none of his usual confidence. Rather, she could see something was bothering him greatly, and she slowed to a halt. “What is it?”
“I, ah, that is to say,” Faizel shifted from one foot to the other, miserably. “While it is undeniably true that we have overcome many obstacles already, are we really absolutely certain that we want to be poking our noses into a room with that symbol on the door? The riddle did declare these ruins to be a sanctum of some kind, after all.”
“Who are the Gold Hoarders, anyway?” Larinna put in, eager to be on the same page as the rest of her crew for once. “Is this their hideout?”
Adelheid looked from one to the other. “Fine,” she said finally. “Let’s talk about it. And no, the Gold Hoarders as we know them today are just another Trading Company. Probably the oldest Trading Company out here on the Sea of Thieves, now that I come to think about it, but this place is far older.”
“They sound more like a gang than a business,” Larinna commented. “What do they trade in?”
“Gold.” Adelheid caught Larinna’s expression and huffed. “Look, most of the treasure you can dig up around these parts is sealed away in chests, right? They won’t open and there’s no point trying to break into them. Well, the Gold Hoarders have a special set of skeleton keys that are the only way to get the chests open.”
“So they say, at least,” Faizel added. “But if you ever find such a chest, you can take it to one of the Gold Hoarders and they will give you a cut of what’s inside it. It is said that back in the day they used to sail the Sea of Thieves themselves, but as their fortunes have grown and their interests in the wider world have expanded, they’ve become little more than merchants. They prefer to send pirates to collect any chests they hear about, and such information normally comes from . . .”
“The Order of Souls,” Larinna finished, understanding beginning to dawn. “Well it doesn’t sound like they’re much to worry about, so what’s the problem here?”
Faizel looked uncomfortable again. “The problem, as you put it, is that the Gold Hoarders took their name, and their crest, from the group’s founder, and he is said to still walk the earth to this day in an endless search for treasure. If Athena’s Fortune ever did exist, then this first ‘Gold Hoarder’ would surely be the one to possess it. Even after death, he, by all accounts, is a fearsome fighter and not to be taken lightly. So you see, we may well be walking into great danger.”
“Yeah, but that’s what pirates do, innit?” Ned said. “ ’Sides, ain’t no skellie ever gotten the best of us. Why should this one be any different?”
“I agree with Ned,” Larinna said hotly. “There’s four of us, and this place was clearly built to protect something good. I want to know what it is.”
Adelheid held up a hand. “All right, all right. We agree this is a risk, and we’re all tired. Let’s press on until we can find somewhere to make camp, then have a rest and some provisions. Whatever’s waiting for us, we might as well face it with our bellies full.”
The prospect of a hot meal was enough to quell their doubts, and they resumed their descent into the ruins. There was life even this far underground—strange, blobby mushrooms that pulsed unnervingly to the touch, and even areas where ancient tree roots had forced their way between the stones in search of water, bringing with them patches of moss and fungus.
The deeper they traveled, the more evidence they discovered of a much older expedition: piles of old rope and chain, discarded swords, and even an old notebook. Someone had gone to the trouble of chopping logs for firewood, and now they were stacked neatly in a corner, grayed by dust and time. Faizel pointed out that if people had been here, skeletons could also linger, but although the crew kept their weapons at the ready, no rattle of bones disturbed them.
Eventually the passage widened out, and they found themselves staring across the width of a deep fissure that had created an underground ravine. The splashing of distant waterfalls echoed around them as they contemplated their next obstacle—an old wooden rope bridge that spanned the chasm. It was ancient, it was rickety, and it appeared to be the only way across.
“That,” said Ned, “is the kind of bridge you need a spare set of breeches on the other side for.”
“Poetic as ever, Ned, my friend.” Faizel gave one of the two ropes that served as handrails an experimental tug. “But I do not think this bridge will be the end of us. It has spanned this chasm for a hundred years, why should today be any different?”
“Today it’s got me walking on it, that’s why,” Ned said stubbornly. “And what about when we has to come back wiv all the ’eavy treasure?”
“One problem at a time,” Adelheid said firmly. “And one pirate at a time. That’s how we’ll cross, and we’ll keep both our hands on the rails and never put both feet on the same plank.” She placed her first booted foot on the bridge, as if daring it to defy her by collapsing, and began a series of slow, measured steps out over nothingness. Watching her traverse the swaying bridge was the longest two minutes of Larinna’s life, but the antique craftsmanship had stood the test of ages, and eventually Adelheid stood on the far side of the ravine, beckoning them over.
“I should go last,” Ned said miserably, staring down into the abyss. “That way you’ll all be on the other side when it collapses under me.”
“Don’t talk that way,” Larinna said, sternly. “Besides, you need to be on the other side, so that you can grab my hand when the damn thing collapses under me.” This earned her a little smile, and Ned inched his bulk out onto the bridge. It creaked and swayed with each one of his huge steps, and once or twice he froze in place as a board buckled beneath his feet, but by cajoling and coaxing him, the rest of the crew managed to talk him safely across. Faizel went next, rather more confidently now that he’d seen the bridge carry Ned safely across the ravine, and lastly it was Larinna’s turn.
She was almost halfway across, easing her foot onto the next plank, whe
n it suddenly surrendered to gravity and fell away into the chasm. She teetered, caught in the act of shifting her weight onto thin air, and was forced to throw herself forward across the gap, clinging onto the rest of the planks for grim death while her legs flailed over empty space and the others shouted her name in alarm.
Slowly, barely daring to breathe, Larinna tensed her stomach and dragged her legs up onto the precarious walkway one at a time until she was resting on all fours, staring down into the blackness. It took several deep breaths before she could bring herself to pull her hand away and reach blindly for the handrail, but finally she was able to raise herself off her knees and back to a standing position. She gritted her teeth and stared straight ahead, crossing the rest of the way without incident until she was able to sag against the comforting stone of the far wall, the others clustering around her in concern. “Never again,” she said firmly. “I’m just going to live down here forever, all right?”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Adelheid remarked, and then added: “There’s a chamber up ahead that’s as good as any to rest in. There’s even a spot for a fire. We’ll all feel better with some grub inside us.”
She was quite correct, for Larinna found her spirits somewhat restored after just a few mouthfuls of the thick stew Faizel somehow prepared at a moment’s notice. He seemed to be back to his chatty old self, too, and while they were eating, he asked everyone what they intended to do with Athena’s Fortune, should it truly be waiting for them somewhere down below.
“I’d spend it,” Adelheid said firmly. “On the sleekest, fastest, ship I could find. Hand-stitched sails, a custom-made figurehead. I’d want everyone to know when Captain Adelheid has arrived, and to run to the tavern so they could hear all about my adventures. And no one would dare cross me on the waves, either, because my cannons would always be loaded and my sword would always be sharp. The Order of Souls would be coming to me for work. What about you, Larinna?”
“The first thing I’d do is pay a team of craftsmen to come down here and fix that bloody bridge,” she replied, wryly. “And then find somewhere to stash it until I needed it, I suppose. Use it to buy a ship and go sail out to the places no one’s been yet. Be the first. Faizel?”
“I would use it to make the tavern keepers of the world very happy,” Faizel said promptly. “Everyone would have a friend in Faizel, yes indeed, and there would be no end of shanties to sing and jokes to tell. Living well and eating heartily with a smile on my face until I am old and gray.”
“Well, I like things just as they are,” said Ned, a trace of stubbornness in his voice. “So you can all have my share if it means we can still be a crew and fight skellies and things.” The others laughed at this, but not unkindly, and shortly after, Adelheid declared it was time for them to move on.
Snuffing out the fire and packing up their belongings, they set off once again, wondering what trials awaited them farther below. It took Larinna a few moments to realize she’d forgotten her own lantern, which still sat on the ledge where she’d been reclining back at the camp, and she hoped there were no more trials ahead that might require it.
The ancient ruins seemed to have given up putting the pirates through their paces, however, and no more puzzles or traps lay before them. Before long, the darkness began to ease gently away, and soon they could see well enough to hood their lamps, though the light spilling out from the room ahead had a strange tint to it. As they entered the final chamber, it was easy to see why, for Simeon’s memories had proven their worth after all.
The room was vast, larger than any they’d seen so far on their quest; it could easily have accommodated the fallen statue they’d seen above ground. Its true dimensions were impossible to determine, however, for every corner was piled high with veritable mountains of gold and jewels. Almost all of the heaps were larger than they; great mounds of treasure piled up with no rhyme or reason that they could see. All of it sparkled peacefully in the flickering glow of a hundred burning torches that lined the walls.
Wordlessly, jaws agape, the pirates spread out across the room and began a closer examination of the treasures. Circlets lined with rubies, golden chalices studded with sapphires, ornamental knives, and totems of forgotten gods—if it was made of precious metal, it was here, all surrounded by innumerable golden pieces.
Now that Larinna’s eyes had adjusted, she could see that the walls of the room had been augmented with scaffolding that seemed to stretch, haphazardly, all the way up to the ceiling. Large wooden planks had been nailed down to create a series of broad platforms bridged by walkways, and these were loaded with treasure chests of all shapes and sizes. She had the sneaking suspicion that the great piles of gold had been plundered from these chests, the boxes themselves stored like trophies that loomed precariously overhead, ready to come crashing down upon their heads.
Adelheid broke the silence, giving voice to what each of them was thinking. “This is impossible,” she croaked. “It would take ten lifetimes to carry this back to the surface.”
“And if you did, you would also need a fleet to transport it,” Faizel said softly. “More than a fleet, a whole navy, perhaps. Is this Athena’s Fortune, then? The great treasure of the Pirate Lord? Something does not sit right with me about all of this, Adelheid! What if it is cursed in some way?”
“Then we’ll be the richest cursed pirates anyone has ever seen,” she snapped. “Ned, you can help me look for the stuff that’s worth the most. Faizel, get some of those chests down here, we’ll use those to haul our pickings back to the ship. Larinna, see if you can find another way out of here. There must be a back door to this place, somewhere.”
Larinna nodded, making her way between the piles of gold and checking every corner carefully. Knowing the predilection of whoever had built this place, she suspected that any shortcut to the surface would most likely be a secret passage locked away behind a stone panel or shifting door. She hoped it hadn’t been buried underneath yet another mountain of treasure and forgotten about.
She rounded a corner and stopped, for her instincts told her that something here was different, and after a moment’s reflection she realized what it was. One of the torches was streaming slightly, its flame angling slightly to the side. When she reached up in front of the flame, Larinna could feel the light breeze that was disturbing it, a coolness that raised goose bumps on the back of her hand.
She traced the source of the draft to a large piece of stonework that, sure enough, turned out to be a secret panel—one that had been prevented from closing properly by a discarded silver goblet. She suspected that the tunnel led all the way to the surface, though she wasn’t about to venture into the darkness without her lantern to find out, and so decided to rejoin the others and let them know what she’d discovered.
Larinna was halfway across the length of the chamber when she saw it happen. Ned had spotted a large golden tankard, its surface studded with iridescent gems, half-buried under yet another mound of riches so that only part of it was visible. He clearly believed it was worth salvaging, for he grasped the glittering handle and tugged as hard as he could.
The tankard came free from the treasure in which it had been buried, but so did the skeleton that had been holding it, apparently slumbering under the golden pile. It yanked its prized possession out of Ned’s grasp in irritation before tilting back its head and preparing to take a mighty swig of some long-forgotten grog.
For a moment, everyone stood transfixed as a single dust-colored spider tumbled out of the empty tankard and scurried away, for its contents had long ago drained dry. The skeleton appeared to stare in fury from Ned to the tankard and back again, as if Ned were somehow to blame for the situation, before letting out a rattling cry.
Many more of the piles began to shake, and Larinna realized that the room had been occupied all along, its undead inhabitants slumbering underneath the treasure just as they had been content to bury themselves within the rubble back at the skeleton fort. She let out a cry of alarm,
for Adelheid was standing in front of the largest pile of all, staring across at Ned in shock, and hadn’t noticed that the riches behind her were also tumbling away and spilling across the floor.
The figure, slowly revealed by the collapsing treasure, was lounging obscenely on a golden throne. Much like the other skeletons Larinna had seen, parts of his body had fallen or rotted away—but the hulking cadaver appeared to have found a unique if macabre solution to the ravages of time. His lower jaw and many of his missing teeth had been replaced by a facsimile made of shaped gold. His eye sockets held two large emeralds that seemed to burn with a mysterious energy all their own, and a large crack in his forehead had been crudely patched with a large golden medallion.
If there was any doubt that this terrifying amalgamation of bone and bullion was the Gold Hoarder, the medallion’s crest—which matched the symbol on the door—confirmed it. Even now, he was reaching slowly toward the unwary Adelheid with a sharp-fingered golden claw that had supplanted his right hand.
Larinna made to shout a warning, but with her attention so focused on the others, she’d forgotten that she, too, was standing amid vast mounds of treasure. A skeletal hand burst forth from a pile to her left, then another, wrapping around her arm and tugging at her. She stumbled, her feet slipping on the coins at her feet, and slammed into the hoard with a yelp. The impact was enough to send the whole thing cascading down to the ground, leaving her sprawled next to another skeleton, which snapped angrily at her until she took its lower jaw clean off with a vicious right hook.
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