“You can uncover your ears, children,” Miss Brett said, though both children had already done so. She wiped her fingers on her skirt and adjusted her hair.
“Wow, Miss Brett,” said Wallace. “You sure can whistle.”
It usually made Miss Brett feel a little funny, whistling the way her father had taught her, but she was very glad she had not forgotten how.
“I hope they heard that,” she said. Silently, she hoped that it was Noah’s blasting whistle she’d heard, and not that of someone from whom she would rather be hiding. Wallace had managed to replace the bulb in the torch. He had been shining it at the pile of rubble, and just after he’d turned it off to save the bulb, they’d heard the faint sound of a whistle. Now, they heard nothing.
“How will they know for sure we’re here?” asked Lucy.
“When I say three,” Miss Brett said, “we are all going to yell, ‘We’re over here!’ Okay?”
And on the count of three, they did.
“That is ridiculous. I’ll go,” insisted Jasper. What was Faye doing? She was terrified of closed spaces and here she was, demanding to be the one to crawl through the rubble.
“Get out of my way, Jasper,” said Faye. “Please.”
“She’s my sister, and I want to—”
“Please!” cried Faye, gulping back the tears already coming down her face. Then, quietly, she begged, “Please, Jasper.”
“Faye,” Noah said, trying to reason with her, “you can’t—”
“I can do it!” she shouted, beads of sweat already forming on her face. She pulled off her bag and shoved it at Noah. “I have to do it. I’m no good to anybody if I can’t help when someone is most needed.”
Jasper opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. He understood. Faye needed to prove that she could overcome her weakness. But it was his sister in there.
“Okay,” Jasper said. “But there’s no harm in taking turns. Maybe . . . maybe you can start and I can take over, after a while.”
Faye nodded. She swallowed hard and felt her anxiety ease, knowing she’d be able to get out if she needed to escape. But she was determined. She would not fail.
In a few minutes, Faye, clutching tightly to her still non-working torch, had slithered into a small opening at the top of the rubble, There was almost no room at all as she pulled rocks out while she crawled, passing them back down the tunnel. Jagged edges scraped her belly and tore her skirt, but what was worse was the warm, damp smell of her own breath. It felt like the only air she could get.
Sweat burned into her eyes. She kept moving, but the nausea was fighting for a place in her gut. She found she needed to catch her breath every few feet. The urge to turn back—back to air, to space—was enormous. Even while walking through the tunnels, she had felt moments of panic, and now she was in a tiny crack in a pile of rocks. It was a nightmare, but when she thought of Lucy and Wallace and Miss Brett, she pushed on,
Again, she heard a whistle, but this time from much closer on the other side.
“Can you hear me?!” she called.
“Yes!” came the voice of Miss Brett.
Faye pulled rocks out and passed them back through the crevice to Noah and Jasper. She tried to shake the torch she still held. She flicked it on and it worked again, a beam of light shining outward.
And then Miss Brett saw the small beam of light shining through the rocks. She could see the torch Faye had by her side as she dug,
“I see you!” cried Miss Brett. And with the light, she could also see where to dig.
“Maybe they are all connected,” Noah said as he threw loose stones away from the space where Faye had crawled. “And if the tunnels are all connected to some network, there’s got to be a passage between the underground castle, or whatever that was, and our house. The passage through the beast garden must lead up to the house somehow.”
It was then they heard the sound of falling rocks.
“Is the tunnel collapsing?” asked Noah, covering his head.
“Let’s hope not,” Jasper said. “But let’s hope the tunnels are all connected. Then we can get back out of here, one way or another.”
“And we will need one way,” Noah said. “One way, and maybe another.”
It took a while longer before Faye could reach her hand through the crevice and feel Miss Brett’s fingers on the other side. Faye hung her head and felt the warm moisture fill her eyes. Then, it was only a matter of minutes before she was able to actually climb through.
“I’ve made it!” Faye called back as she was embraced by the three she found on the other side of the rubble. Faye was shaking and took a few moments to catch her breath.
“You are so brave,” said Miss Brett, fully appreciating what it took for Faye to climb through that small space.
Faye stood in the space where she and Lucy had once fallen, and looked around. Now she could find her breath in the very place where she had felt her chest clenching before. After the crack in the rubble, this space felt wide open,
It was a strange space. There were carvings on the wall, and even what had once been a shelf carved into the rock. It seemed ancient, as if from Roman times,
“I want to show you something,” Faye said quietly to Miss Brett.
As Lucy and Wallace began climbing back through the crevice, she shined her torch and showed Miss Brett the body of the artist. Looking closer, they could see what remained of his clothes. The body, more a skeleton or a mummy now, faced away from the hole. His head lay at an impossible angle, as if he had fallen down the hole, headfirst, and broken his neck. His capotain—a tall, almost cone-shaped hat—was crunched and bent but still on his head. The ends of his shoulder-length hair showed from beneath it.
It was so strange to see a skeleton arm and a mummified face with hair that seemed almost alive. A very gray ruff that had once been white still adorned his neck. It seemed so fragile, as if it would crumble if touched. His jacket was ornately embroidered in pale pinks and yellows. There was a cape nearby, as if it had either been torn off his shoulders or, if merely slung over his back, flung from the artist in the fall. It had deep green and blue stripes and gold trimming.
“Look.” Faye pointed to the artist’s sleeve. There were splotches of colored paint staining the edges of his doublet,
“He was an artist after all,” Miss Brett said.
“He was young and handsome when he died,” said Faye. “But he disappeared and, eventually, no one looked for him. His story lived on, but no one remembered him as a person.”
There was something so sad about that. It was a tragic story, the young artist with so much to live for who came to such an untimely end. He had been loved by kings and queens, yet he met his end alone in a dark and ancient hole.
“The baker’s son died in a tunnel,” said Faye, thinking, too, of how Antonio would one day be forgotten. Would Signora Fornaio?
“Far from home and those who loved him,” said Miss Brett. She wondered about the artist. Someone had doubtless mourned when he disappeared.
“We might never have known about either one,” said Faye. “These deaths, these mysteries . . .”
“You children brought them to light,” said Miss Brett, her hand on Faye’s shoulder. “You did a very good thing.”
For a moment, the two of them stood there in silence. Then a few stones fell from the pile of rubble.
“We had better go,” Miss Brett said to Faye. “We have paid him our respects. We will remember him.”
After Jasper had helped Miss Brett, the last to come out on the other side of the rubble, everyone brushed themselves off, turned, and started back through the tunnel. Almost immediately, they heard a rumble. Looking back, they found the path that Faye had carved was no there longer. The rocks had caved in upon themselves.
Faye gasped, staring at the rock.
“You made it,” Jasper said.
But suddenly, the rumble grew louder—more than mere rocks falling in the tunnel.
“Was that
an explosion?” asked Wallace.
“The rocks didn’t fall by themselves,” said Noah.
Lucy began to whimper.
“We’ve got to get moving,” said Faye, urging everyone onward. “We’ve got to get to the room of a thousand languages.”
“Here, Lucy.” Noah handed her the compass. “We need to be heading east—southeast, actually—but mostly east.”
“I won’t lose it again, Noah,” she said from inside the hug she was giving him. “I promise.”
Noah gave her a squeeze back. Another rumble shook the walls,
“Let’s go,” Jasper said, handing Miss Brett her torch.
With Lucy in the lead, they continued back along the passage, They passed the walls of brick and stone, the symbols and writ-ing—Galileo’s notations again. They followed the twisting and turning passages until they reached another fork.
“Which way, Lucy?” asked Noah.
“I’m not sure,” said Lucy. Noah could see in the light of Miss Brett’s flickering electric torch that the needle was going crazy. Miss Brett again shook the torch, but apparently the bulb was not very strong. Faye pointed her torch at the compass.
“Wallace, move away,” Noah said. “Your magnets are making the compass go wacky.”
But Wallace was already far from Lucy, and still the compass was quivering madly
“It must be near,” said Jasper, taking the torch from Faye and shining it ahead to see if he could see anything down the passage, He could not.
“Wait,” said Lucy, taking a few steps down the passage, then a few steps back. “It must be this way! The needle starts shaking harder . . . and now it’s starting to spin!”
Soon, they were moving down the passage, the needle spinning fast.
In the light of Faye’s torch, they all leaned over and stared at the compass needle, and then they ran. Sometimes they could see, but then the shadows overtook them as Faye’s electric torch flickered out again. Was there something wrong with the torch besides a bad bulb? After Lucy slipped and fell over an unseen rock, they slowed to a safer walk.
“I’ve got mine,” Wallace said. He shook and then flicked on his torch. He handed it to Jasper, who traded him Faye’s. “I can replace the bulb when we’re safe somewhere. I’ve got one more.” Wallace just hoped that the problem with Faye’s torch was only a weak and burned-out bulb.
And then suddenly, right in front of them stood those huge doors, like giant, ancient guardians.
Miss Brett looked up in awe at their sheer size. Thicker than most walls, and carved in iron and wood, the doors were truly enormous.
It was then that two things happened.
First, the compass stopped quivering.
And suddenly, Jasper himself began to quiver.
Well, actually, Miss Brett’s handbag, which Jasper had over his shoulder, began to quiver and shake.
“What is that?” asked Faye, moving slightly away from Jasper.
“I think it’s the box,” said Jasper. He pulled off the sack and removed the box. It was shaking. “Should I open it?” he asked Miss Brett.
“Yes!” shouted Faye. Then she looked at Miss Brett. “Don’t you think?” Miss Brett nodded, and Faye was glad.
Jasper opened the box.
Whatever they thought might happen, they were wrong. What actually happened was utterly unexpected. At first, Jasper was a bit wary of picking up the orb. Shaking, it seemed to have come alive, and Jasper imagined it might open up a mouth and bite him. Still, he gulped and plunged his hand into the box. He caught the shivering orb in his hand. It felt like holding a tiny, metallic bunny rabbit or baby chick. He picked it up out of the box and then, without warning, the orb jumped (if an orb can jump) right out of his hand,
Jasper felt he had dropped it. But when he reached down to pick it back up, Jasper found himself chasing after the little orb. He tried to stop it with the staff, but the orb kept moving into the darkness, rolling toward the giant door. Noah tried to catch it, then Faye, but the rolling orb slipped through fingers and dodged grabbing hands. It rolled and rolled in a straight line. It rolled right up to the door.
Then, it rolled up the door
“Hello? Is . . . um . . .” Noah began, but he couldn’t even say the words.
The orb rolled up the long, metal astragal, the strip that ran between the two halves of the double door. This astragal, as they had noticed before, had a strange groove in it, and now, as they watched this bizarre orb defy gravity and roll up the astragal, the mystery of the groove seemed apparent. It was made for the orb. It rolled up to the place where the key had been inserted, then stopped. It began to vibrate again, and this somehow triggered the unlocking mechanism. The door was opened.
Gingerly, the children walked through the doorway. Jasper reached out for the orb, which seemed to jump, still shivering, into his hand. Faye led the way with her torch, but somehow imagined they would find the fire lit and the candelabra glowing next to the hearth. This was indeed the Christmas room, but it was not the way they had left it. It was neither warm nor festive. There was no fire in the hearth, no scent of cinnamon and butter in the air. There was no bird on the perch. There was no gramophone playing Handel’s Messiah. There were no parents around the fire or nannies carrying food. Now, the room smelled of stone. It was cold, dank, and silent, as if it had been this way for hundreds of years.
Miss Brett went over to the fireplace and picked up a dusty silver tinderbox that sat on the mantle. Within seconds, she had lit the dried wood remaining in the fireplace. The resulting fire was small, but it provided some heat and light. Jasper looked down at the orb in his hand. It really did feel like a tiny animal. It seemed almost to have a heart, beating fast and furious, as if it were in a panic to escape. Noah stepped over, shaking his head.
“It really is the strangest thing.” He touched the orb in Jasper’s hand and, suddenly, the orb stopped shaking.
“Well, either it likes me and I’ve calmed it down,” Noah said, removing his hand with a jerk, “or I’ve killed it.”
They all watched the little orb, now unmoving, in Jasper’s hand. But a few seconds after Noah moved away, the orb began to quiver again. The quivering grew stronger, and the orb seemed to be tugging away from Jasper’s hand.
Where did it want to go? Jasper had an idea.
He remembered the strange, darkened hallways from their Christmas visit. He remembered that two paths had been locked, and Faye had told him that there were strange grooves along the sides of the iron gates. They had also come to doors at the end of the passageways they had explored. These doors, too, had been locked. But so had been the door they had just passed through. Did they lock behind you when you passed through? Would they be trapped?
It didn’t matter now. Jasper walked toward the first passageway, with the door behind which they had found the chanting men in black. The others followed, Faye close behind. The orb began to quiver more forcefully. As Jasper bent down, the orb rolled from his hand and down into the darkness. He shook his electric torch and flicked it on.
“Quick! The tinderbox!” cried Faye. Noah quickly ran back to grab the tinderbox from the mantle. He lit the two torches hanging in the sconce. Once the torches were lit, the passageway had enough light, and Jasper switched off the electric torch as they ran after the rolling orb. They were all aware that the electric torches now had only one bulb each. They needed to save the bulbs when they could.
The orb came to the end of the passageway and, as before, rolled up the doorway into a small, round indentation. Again, as with the big doors, this door unlocked. Faye took a hold of the door handle and opened it.
What they found was a set of stairs going up into darkness.
“If this is a way out, it might be a better option than heading back into the tunnels,” said Jasper. “We could use another way out.”
“I’m worried about the box,” said Miss Brett.
“You’re right, Miss Brett. Once we get the box put away safely,”
said Jasper, “we can head up there and perhaps find a different way back.”
“We need to get the box to safety,”
“We need to bring the box to this ‘Room of a Thousand Languages,’ but we don’t know where that is,” Jasper said.
“We should try one of the other passages we couldn’t enter Christmas Eve,” Faye said.
“Perhaps the orb works on the same principle as our magnetic spheres,” Wallace said as they followed Faye to the passage on the right. The orb quivered strongly in Jasper’s hand as they neared the barred gate. “It reacted to the metal bar on the door. It was reacting to various things.” Wallace pulled one of his magnetic spheres from his pocket. He placed it on the ground. It did not move. “Though I suppose there must be more to it than that.”
Jasper set Antonio’s orb on the ground. Unlike the magnet, Antonio’s orb ran up the locking mechanism on the bars. It fixed itself inside of the indentation that seemed to be made for it. Then Miss Brett, Lucy still clinging to her skirt, pulled. But the gate did not open. Noah tried, too.
“Why isn’t it working?” Faye growled.
Wallace, too, was mystified. He, Faye, and Jasper all reached for the bars at the same time. Miss Brett did as well, and Lucy reached up to hold the hand Miss Brett was not using. And then, suddenly Wallace, Faye, Jasper, and Lucy were thrown back by a blast of electricity. Standing up, they looked at one another, and almost everyone’s hair was standing on end—just as on the train, and in Nikola Tesla’s laboratory.
“What on earth?” Noah laughed. Only he and Miss Brett remained unaffected.
“This is not funny, Noah Canto-Sagas,” barked Faye, brushing herself off and trying to bring her floating hair back down from the air.
“We look funny, though,” said Lucy. She felt her floating braids and left them where they were.
Wallace picked up his glasses and stood back up. He went to examine the lock on the bars. Then he saw it—some odd-shaped grooves along the astragal of the gate. One shape was flat and round, and had some markings on the inside. He pulled his coin from his pocket. Yes, the markings were the same—only in reverse, like an impression in clay. His coin would fit directly into the shape in the metal.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 33
