More Than You Know (40 page)

"Cleverer than me, certainly. I don't understand."

"The Big Dipper is only important for what it points to, not for what it is."

Claire's jaw actually sagged a little as the truth came to her. “Polaris. He was showing us the North Star."

"Well, actually a small island called Arahiti, just as Tiare said. It's not on the chart. I fixed its location the same way I would have fixed Polaris—by using the pointer stars in the Dipper and following a straight line approximately four times the distance between them. In this case, four times the distance that separates Haipai from Pulotu. Remember I thought we had arrived on Tarahiki? That island is close enough that I could see it when Tiare took us to the temple. In fact, I kept it in sight for most of the journey. That's how I know we never really left Arahiti."

"Never left? But we were on the water for hours in both directions."

"That direction was a circle. More precisely, a half circle. If that isn't enough for you, think back to what Tipu asked me. He wanted to know if the big ship in the harbor was mine. How would he know it was there if he hadn't seen it? I'm sure the temple we visited is somewhere on this island, Claire. That means the waterfall is also. Tiare may want us to think the treasure is on Pulotu, but she brought us to it."

"Do you think she intends to show us where it is?"

"You know her better than I do."

Claire drew in her lower lip and worried it as she thought. “She could have shown my father to it at any time and never did. But then, he was neither Hamilton nor Waterstone."

"I'm only one half of the equation,” Rand pointed out. “Our mapmaker meant for Hamilton and Waterstone to work together. I don't suppose—"

Claire shook her head. “I've told you before, not a drop of Waterstone blood in these veins."

"What if you're the duke's daughter?"

"No. I've seen the portraits in his homes. Markhams and Abberlys for generations. No Waterstones."

"Then I think Tiare will have reason not to share what she knows,” said Rand. “We'll have to look for ourselves."

"When?"

"Now. We have a few hours before daybreak. Cutch will come with us. He's scouted some of the island. It could help us.” Rand surveyed Claire's nightshift and wrapper. “Go on. Get dressed."

Claire made short work of it. She tore through his things and found trousers and a shirt that were no better fitting than the ones she had worn on Pulotu. Rand said nothing, though. He waited for her at the door, then escorted her topside. The man on watch helped them lower one of the boats over the side, and Rand rowed them to shore. He woke up Cutch and told him what they were going to do.

"I only just went to sleep,” Cutch said. “Been up most of the night looking for a way off this island.” He rubbed the back of his smooth head. “Don't seem right, you wakin’ me up again and tellin’ me you don't want to leave."

Rand made allowances for Cutch's sleep-deprived state. “So you found something?"

"Mebbe.” He yawned hugely and allowed Rand to help him to his feet. The men around him slept on. “Tell you about it as soon as I wake up."

Chuckling, Rand thrust an unlighted torch and a pick in Cutch's hands. He was carrying a shovel. Claire had a coil of rope resting on her shoulders. She had complained once of feeling like a plow horse but she accepted the weight gamely.

"Who knows we're out here?” Cutch asked as Rand led them into the forest.

"Dodd's on watch. I told him to raise the alarm if we haven't returned by noon. Not that he would know exactly where to find us.” He intercepted Cutch's dark look of concern over Claire's head. “Tiare will know. Dodd only has to tell her that we're looking for the treasure and she'll find us."

"Probably kill us, too,” Cutch said rather mournfully.

Claire smiled. “I don't think so, Mr. Cutch. She likes you."

Cutch followed closer on Claire's heels. “Did she say something to you?"

"Not exactly. But I could see the interest in her eyes when I mentioned your name."

For a moment Cutch almost believed her. His deep chuckle rumbled pleasantly when he realized what she'd said. “You
saw
that, did you?"

Rand interrupted before Claire could answer. “I wouldn't challenge her, Cutch."

Claire turned her head and gave Cutch a wide, teasing smile. She felt him place his large hand over the crown of her hair and make her face front. She stumbled a bit on the path while Rand easily stepped over a fallen branch.

"One of you should watch where you're both going,” Cutch said.

Claire concentrated more on Rand's lead after that. They moved in relative silence. The forest was home to enough nocturnal predators that their own movements often blended in. There was always the steady sound of moving water in the background. They did not light the coconut-sheath torch that Cutch carried. Its light would have made their progress visible to anyone watching from the ship or from across the island's harbor. Moonshine was adequate for their travels as long as they went slowly. Occasionally they would stop so Rand could orient them with the compass he kept in his pocket.

"So you
do
know where we're going,” Cutch said, watching Rand squint as he studied the compass. “I was wondering."

"You should keep on wondering,” said Rand. He made a quarter turn and rechecked the compass. Even after he pocketed it, he stood where he was, his head cocked to one side as he listened intently. He suddenly turned back. “This way ... I think."

While they continued to walk, usually climbing, Claire explained everything as she understood it to Cutch. He didn't voice his skepticism but he wasn't exactly enthusiastic. He reminded them that he had already made an exploration of some of the island. He hadn't seen the temple or come across a waterfall other than the one that was in the harbor.

"Did you come this way?” Claire asked simply.

"Well, no. Rand's leading us to the interior. We were looking for a way out."

"If you go in far enough, it's eventually the same as going out."

Rand chuckled. “Argue with that,” he told Cutch.

Cutch shook his head. “No, thank you. Not on a bet."

Their passage became easier when Rand brought them closer to the stream. The noise that had always been in the background seemed to shift in importance. Cutch didn't say a word, but his steps were a little more lively.

It was almost daylight when they came upon the source of the narrow stream. It wasn't a waterfall, but a small spring that fed it. It trickled from the rock and gathered in a small pool that eventually became the stream. Rand was undeterred. He pointed upward so Cutch could see what they had to climb. “We'll have to harness Claire."

Some of the rope was taken off Claire's shoulders and tied around her waist. Rand joined the other end to his chest. “It's not much different than when you scaled Mauna Puka to study the tikis,” Rand told her. Over the top of her head he almost dared Cutch to say anything different. Cutch looked at the rough face of the lava rock. He had to tip his head back to see the top. It was a hundred feet if it was a step, and most of it was on a steep incline.

"Not much different,” Cutch repeated under his breath. “I'll bring up the rear."

They began climbing. There were natural footholds in the rock, but they were uneven and sometimes at an uncomfortable distance from one another. Rand and Cutch both studied the path ahead of them to make certain they could navigate it with Claire in tow. The easiest route was also the longest one. They crossed the face of the lava formation in a wide zigzag pattern. It took them more than an hour to reach the top.

The temple platform and altar were immediately in front of them.

"What is it?” Claire asked when she felt Cutch's stillness beside her.

"I'm looking at the temple. It's just like Rand described it to me."

"Of course,” said Claire. She brushed off her trousers and removed the rope from her waist. “Did you doubt it?"

Rand grinned while Cutch swore he had only ever been confident. He unhitched the rope at his waist and helped Claire coil it. “It's not much farther, Cutch. You'll find the going a lot more straightforward."

The rush of water came to them clearly as they began their descent. The manmade steps leading from the temple were easily negotiated compared to the ground they had just covered. Even the last part of the path, which Claire remembered as being steep, seemed unremarkable to her now. They broke out of the trees and into the channel at exactly the place Tiare had started their trek yesterday.

Claire listened to the water cascading in a steep arc from the rock. “Is there a rainbow?” she asked Rand.

"No. The sun's too low in the sky.” He placed her arm at his elbow. “This way,” he said. “We need to find seven pagan sentinels."

Cutch had been leaning on his pick, waiting to hear something that made sense. “Seven pagan sentinels,” he said under his breath. “They're back on Pulotu.” No one paid him any attention. Shaking his head, he straightened and slung the pick over his shoulder; then he fell into step behind Claire and Rand.

Claire felt the spray of fresh water on her face and throat as they came closer to the falls. The steady roar of the water was almost painful to her ears. She would have covered them if she hadn't had to hold Rand. She was aware that they were all raising their voices to exchange words.

"It's a narrow ledge,” Rand told her. “You'll have to walk directly behind me. Take a fistful of my shirt."

"Maybe we should put the rope around her again,” Cutch said.

Claire shook her head. “I'll be fine! How far is it?"

"About twelve feet!” Rand said loudly. “We're going right behind the falls."

For good measure, Cutch took a fistful of Claire's shirt. He could haul her back if her feet slipped on the damp rock. They inched their way behind the shower of water. Besides making certain he didn't fall, Cutch had to keep the torch dry. As soon as they were hidden by the curtain of water, and safe on a wider platform of rock, Rand told him to light it.

At first Cutch saw nothing but the face of more sheer, polished rock. Nature's alcove behind the falls seemed to have no way out but the way they came in.

Rand motioned to him to step forward. “Shine your light here,” he said. “On these markings."

"What is it?” Claire asked. “What do you see?"

"I have no bloody idea,” Rand said.

"What do
you
see?” Claire asked Cutch.

"Writing on the wall,” Cutch said. “Only I can't read it."

Rand put down his shovel. Confronted with the stone, he realized the shovel was useless. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cutch lean the pick against the rock. Neither of the tools they had brought seemed like much help now. Rand's short laugh held more mockery than humor. “I always thought of it as
buried
treasure,” he said ruefully.

Frustrated, Claire yanked on Rand's sleeve. “Tell me,” she demanded. “Show me."

Cutch held the torch steady while Rand described what was in front of them. “It's just more rock, Claire. There are some runes carved into the surface.” His eyes narrowed as he studied them. The torch created shadows at the underside of the writing. The runes were not carved on the flat surface of the rock at all. He ran his hand over them and found the characters were inscribed on smaller circles of stone that were embedded in the rock like cylinders, each about the size of a gold piece.

Claire listened carefully to Rand's description. Beside her Cutch was equally rapt. “How many runes?” she asked.

Rand counted them, making certain he didn't miss any or count any twice. They were scattered over the face of the rock. “Seven,” he said slowly. He looked at them again as if he couldn't quite believe it. “Seven.” He anticipated Claire's next questions. “No, the pattern isn't the Big Dipper this time. There is no pattern."

"There must be."

Rand stepped back and looked over it again, joining the raised characters in different arrangements in his mind's eye. “Nothing, Claire."

Claire felt the heat of the torch as she approached the rock. “You can put it to one side,” she told Cutch. “It won't help me see anything.” She laid her palms flat on the rock. It was smoother than she expected. She wondered what part the smooth surface owed to the constant spray of water and the passage of centuries, and what part was owed to the work of man. She ran her fingers over the slightly raised runes but couldn't visualize the ones she touched. The grooves on either side of the circles were curious to her though. “Did you see these?” she asked Rand.

Rand and Cutch both leaned over Claire's shoulders and followed the path of her index finger. She was tracing a larger circle in the face of the rock. It brought her back to the carving where she started. “It's very faint,” she said. “I think the rock has eroded so the groove is more shallow than it used to be. Even these runes probably don't extend as far out as they used to.” Her hand passed to another carved symbol, and she found another groove that followed another circular path. “Each character is like a single pearl on a necklace. There are seven necklaces, one inside the other, each with its own pearl."

"Seven concentric circles,” Rand said.

"Seven rings,"
Claire pointed out.
"And just one key."
Cutch interrupted, trying to follow their thinking. “What about the pagan sentinels? I thought you needed to find them."

In response, Rand pulled Claire away from the rock so he could view it in its entirety again. His hands rested on her shoulders to keep her still and his own excitement in check. “It's the solar system,” he said. “Those runes are symbols for the planets. Saturn. Jupiter. Mars.
Those
are the pagan sentinels. The Roman gods."

Cutch looked at the rock with new appreciation. “That so?” He bent toward one of the characters and examined it more closely. “That crescent sure enough could be a moon. Not exactly a planet, though, is it?"

"No,” Rand said. “It's not. But it's always represented in ancient star maps. There were seven heavenly bodies charted, not including the earth. At that time it was considered to be the center of everything."

"So we pretend it's in the middle of all these other necklaces,” Cutch said.

"Orbits,” Rand corrected. “That's what the grooves really represent. The moon has the inner orbit around the earth. The rune that's a circle with a point in the center is the sun. Then Venus. Mars. Mercury. Jupiter and Saturn.” Rand could feel Claire fairly trembling with the need to touch the runes again. He let her go. “It's too bad it doesn't help us,” he told her. “The riddles don't mention the planets. I don't know what to make of it."

Claire's excitement was palpable as she explored the symbols again. “I know these characters,” she said. They were familiar to her in a way they hadn't been before. When Rand had described the sun and moon, she realized where she had seen them as well as all the others. It wasn't on a map of the ancient universe. “These are alchemy symbols. Just as the riddle says:
Seven rings but just one key."

"Metals all of alchemy,"
Rand finished for her.

Claire nodded. “Each planetary character corresponds to a different earth metal. The old alchemists made a connection between the influences of the planets and the metals they were using. The moon is silver. The sun is gold."

"My God,” Rand said softly. He had learned these things at Oxford, but it had always struck him, and most of his fellow students, as something more akin to mysticism than the first rudiments of real science. Claire's education, at Sir Griffin's knee, was fuller and richer than his own experience. “Venus?” he asked.

"Copper."

He nodded, knowing she was right as soon as he heard her answer. His brows came together as he concentrated. “Mars is iron."

"I never studied this,” Cutch said. “But even I know Mercury's mercury."

Claire laughed. “Very clever. But do you know Jupiter?"

It was Rand who answered. “Tin. And Saturn is lead."

"That's all of them,” said Claire. Thinking it through, she added slowly,
"Seven rings but just one key."

"I don't see a key,” Cutch told them. The torch flickered as he moved it around and looked high and low.

Rand stopped him. “It's not that kind of key. Look at this.” Rand stood beside Claire and pulled at the cylinder that was marked by the sun's character. It required a little jiggling to loosen it, but the rod finally gave. There was enough play in it to pull it out or push it in. “I suspect what we're looking at is some kind of sequencing mechanism. If we remove these cylinders in just the right order, we'll be able to move the stone. I suspect we'll get one opportunity to do it right."

Cutch's brows lifted. He held the torch closer to his face to make certain Rand could see his disbelief. “Now how are you going to do that?"

"I'm not. I'm going to let Claire do the honors.” He turned to Claire. “I'll help you if they stick. Go on,” he urged softly. “You know what to do. You've earned this right.
Seven rings but just one key..."

Claire's hand closed over the end of the cylinder with the crescent moon carved on its surface.
"Silver,"
she said and pulled it out. She found Jupiter next. It closely resembled the number four.
"Tin."
The eight-inch cylinder slid out more easily than the first one. She gave them both to Rand to hold.
"And mercury."
She had to stand on tiptoe to pull it free.
"Iron bracelet."
She yanked at the cylinder represented by the god Mars, then found Saturn.
"Leaden chain. Treasure lost, treasure gained."
Claire worked it loose and held it out to Rand. There were only two cylinders left.
"Copper circlet,"
she said. Venus was removed easily. “Help me with the last one. We'll do it together."

Rand laid the cylinders of polished rock on the ledge where they stood. He took Claire's hand and placed it over the only remaining cylinder. “The sun,” he said.

She nodded.
"Crown of gold."
The cylinder moved under her questing fingers, slowly at first; then, with Rand's help it came away in one smooth motion.

Rand placed this last cylinder in the pile with the others.
"Seven sisters flee the fold."
He waited.

They all waited. Claire was actually holding her breath.

Nothing happened.

Rand recited softly,
"At the end of one god's promise stand seven pagan sentinels. Seven rings but just one key. Silver, tin, and mercury. Iron bracelet, leaden chain. Treasure lost, treasure gained. Copper circlet, crown of gold. Seven sisters flee the fold. Reunited, freed of curse; thy reward the richest purse. Seven rings but just one key. Metals all of alchemy. With the sisters, this verse brings wealth beyond the dreams of kings."

Nothing happened.

Cutch handed Rand the torch. “Hold this.” He picked up the shovel and slammed it hard against the stone. The force of his strike made his powerful forearms vibrate. He shrugged innocently when Rand just stared at him. “Chanting's nice,” he said. “But sometimes a mule needs a good kick.” He raised the shovel again.

It was a low rumble at first. It was difficult to distinguish from the sound of the water at their backs. Claire was the first to be able to make it out. She pointed at the rock face. Cutch lowered the shovel and took a step back. Rand did the opposite. He cupped a hand around his ear and counted the thuds as the crude tumblers dropped into place. At seven, the vibrating stopped.

Rand glanced at Cutch. “Watch this.” He pushed on the rock with both hands, exerting very little effort, and felt it give as easily as a sail in the face of the wind. He opened it wide enough to allow them to enter, then tested the door to make certain it didn't swing easily in the other direction.

"Why don't I stay here,” Cutch offered. “Just in case."

"All right. Claire?"

"I'm going with you.” She indicated the ropes around her shoulders. “I'd like to replace these with something in gold."

Rand glanced at Cutch. “You were right, Cutch. She married me for my money."

"You don't have any yet,” she pointed out. “Go on.” Claire slipped her arm through his.

"I need the torch,” he said. “But you can carry it.” He waited while Cutch placed it in her free hand. “In the event this treasure really
is
buried, I'll take the shovel and pick."

The antechamber was small and it was empty. “There's only one corridor,” Rand said.

"Then I suppose we should follow it."

Rand smiled at her eagerness. “You really do want wealth beyond the dreams of kings."

Claire snorted indelicately and nudged him forward.

The corridor was narrow and long. They didn't go very far before the light from outside the cave could no longer reach them. The torch Claire carried threw light a few feet in front of Rand and cast their shadows on the wall.

"What is it?” Claire asked when Rand stopped suddenly. She could feel a subtle difference in the air. Water trickled somewhere ahead of them. The space around her had opened up. “Is it the treasure?"

"It's another chamber,” he said.

"Oh."

"The treasure's sitting in the middle of it."

Claire almost dropped the torch. “Truly?"

"Steady with that thing,” said Rand. The shovel and pick thudded noisily as he dropped them. He saw Claire jump at their eerily hollow echo. “Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I wasn't thinking."

She waved aside his concern. “Would you like the torch now?"

He took it from her hands. “It's a very ordinary sea chest,” he said, approaching it slowly. “About three hands high and eight long."

"It's not encrusted with jewels?"

"No. Not one.” He secretly admitted to a little disappointment himself. When he and his brother played at finding it, it was always encrusted with jewels. Rand sank down on one knee. He felt Claire drop beside him. Neither of them touched the chest, though it was only a finger's distance from them.

"What
is
this place?” asked Claire, her voice hushed.

"Why are you whispering?"

"It seems that kind of place."

"It's not a burial vault or a church."

"Are you sure?"

In truth Rand hadn't looked around since his eyes had alighted on the chest. He held up the torch and drew it in a small circle over his head. There were three passages leading deeper into the mountain. No light came from any of them. “Water ran through here a long time ago,” he told her. “It made all these passages."

"I can still hear it,” she said.

"It must be an underground river that feeds the waterfall. This place wasn't dug out by the islanders. They probably showed it to Waterstone's mapmaker, but he was the one who came up with the stone to put at the entrance."

"Mercutio,” Claire said. “I don't mind if you want to call him that. It's as good a name as any."

Rand held the torch directly over the trunk lid. He ran his hand along the rough wooden surface. Rusty iron strips held the mottled wood in place. He picked at a bit of mossy growth on one corner. It came away easily. Rand stared hard at what he was seeing. He scraped off a bit more with his thumbnail. He had no difficulty recognizing the symbols he uncovered. They were simply letters of the English alphabet and their particular order told him what he needed to know.

"Actually,” he said softly, “I have a better name for our cartographer. How do you like William Abberly?"

"Abberly?” Claire actually sat back on her bottom. “The duke's Abberly? Abberly Hall?"

"I imagine.” He took her hand and placed it on the carved letters. “You won't be able to make it out, but that's what it says right here."