Oracles of Delphi Keep (12 page)

“What box?” asked Thatcher.

Ian turned to his new schoolmaster. “We found a small silver treasure box, sir.”

“I confiscated the box,” interrupted Madam Scargill.
“There was an argument over it on the lawn and I thought it better to hold on to it until the issue was resolved.”

“And where is this treasure box now?” asked the earl.

Ian caught himself before answering. If he told them that he’d hidden it up in the east tower, everyone would know that he’d done the unforgivable and trespassed into Madam Scargill’s room.

Madam Scargill said, “It was in my room. But I daresay the thing must be destroyed by now. The beast made a complete wreckage of everything up there.” She gave a small sniff.

“I could go look for it,” Ian said quickly. “It might still be intact, and I bet I could locate it if I had to.”

The earl regarded him with a wry smile. He was a wise man and he seemed to have caught the way Ian had been quick to offer up hope that the box had survived the beast’s wrath. “Very well, Ian. But first, tell us about this tunnel. How do you know that’s where the beast is?”

Ian knew that he had no choice now but to tell the entire story, start to finish, so he explained. “While we … er, I mean, while
I
was pulling the box free, I heard a horrible noise behind me. It was like a howl and a growl combined. So I yanked up the box and ran for my life, and with Theo’s help I barely escaped out the hole I’d come through before the beast got to me.”

“But why didn’t the beast just follow you out the hole?” asked Perry.

Ian resisted the urge to shudder as his memory took him back to the image of that giant snout sticking out of the hole he and Theo had barely made it through. “It was too
small for the beast to fit through. But I suspect it either found a way to make the hole larger or it found another way out.”

“So it’s
your
fault?” yelled a voice right behind him. Ian turned to see Searle, who was furious, his hands curled into fists and his chubby cheeks flushed with anger.
“You
brought that horrible thing directly to us!” he yelled. “You and that wretched box!”

Ian’s eyes grew wide as he glanced around at the faces of the children, who were all looking at him the same way Searle was. Even Madam Dimbleby looked angry with him. “I … I … I …,” Ian mumbled, not knowing how to explain his way out of it.

“We’ll deal with whose fault this is later,” said the earl firmly with a stern look at Searle. “For now we must get you children to safety and hunt down the beast.”

Ian breathed a sigh of relief and looked gratefully at him. “Thank you, my lord,” he said quietly. “I’m terribly sorry,” he added, and the earl smiled kindly at him.

Searle made a vulgar sound behind him, and the earl’s smile faded quickly. “That’s enough out of you,” he warned, and Searle flushed to the top of his ugly brow. Then, turning back to Ian, the earl said, “You shall ride in my personal motor car. While we load the other children, why don’t you go inside and see if you can locate your bit of treasure?”

Anxious to retrieve the box and get away from the accusing glares all around him, Ian dashed into the keep and up the stairs. He headed back up to the tower, taking the steps two at a time. Once at the bench he had to struggle
with the plank, because he could use only one hand, but he managed to move it after just a few moments, then dashed back down the steps to the second-story hallway.

He was about to bolt down the main stairs again, but thought it might be too obvious if he showed up with the box so quickly, so he slipped into Madam Scargill’s room and spent some time shuffling through the mess, kicking at the bits of broken furniture and clothing.

Just as he was turning to leave, his toe knocked away a piece of splintered wood, and something caught the light below his shoe. Curious, he bent low to see what it was. He set the silver box on the floor, then he moved one of Madam Scargill’s tattered shawls aside, revealing a necklace of gold and crystal. It looked strangely familiar. He picked it up and held it to the light, examining it.

The gold chain was attached to a charm made of a beautiful frosty crystal with a hint of pink at its center, encased in a rim of gold. The crystal was luminous and didn’t seem to reflect the light as much as it appeared to give off a light of its own.

Ian had a hard time taking his eyes off the charm, it was so lovely. He would have lingered over it longer, but in the hallway he heard approaching footsteps, and he quickly shoved the necklace deep into the pocket of his trousers. It was a good thing too, because just as he finished stuffing it away, Madam Scargill appeared in the doorway, a deep scowl on her face. “Have you located your box, then, Master Wigby?”

Ian fought the urge to flinch at the intensely irritated
look she was giving him. “Yes, Madam,” he said, and he bent over to pick it up. “Lucky thing that it’s not broken or damaged.”

Madam Scargill’s scowl deepened. “I’m not sure how lucky you’ll feel once all this is over and we discuss your punishment for going places you know are expressly forbidden to you.”

Ian’s eyes fell to the floor and his heart sank. He’d been hoping that the earl’s words might have gotten him out of that punishment bit. “Yes, Madam,” he mumbled.

“Go on, then!” she snapped, clearly agitated that he’d disobeyed so many rules. “The earl is holding his motorcar for you and you’d best not keep him waiting any longer.”

Ian bolted out of the room and rushed down the stairs. Once outside, he looked about. All the other children, including Carl and Theo, had apparently been dispatched to Castle Dover. He dashed down the steps to the earl’s beautiful motorcar and got inside without a backward glance. “Did you find your box?” asked Thatcher from the front seat.

Ian smiled happily, holding up the silver treasure, realizing that the ownership of the box was no longer in question, so he would likely be allowed to keep it. “Yes, sir. You may have a look if you’d like.”

Thatcher took the box and turned it over in his hands a few times as he tugged gently at the lid, which held firm, before he closely examined the carvings on the sides of the box. “Incredible,” he murmured after a few moments.

“What’s that?” asked the earl as he circled the drive and aimed the Packard out of the keep’s gate.

“These engravings …,” muttered Thatcher. “I believe they’re a form of ancient Greek.”

“You don’t say?” said the earl, glancing at the box in Thatcher’s hands. “How did a Grecian artifact end up in a cavern within the White Cliffs of Dover?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” said Thatcher. Turning to Ian, he asked, “Master Wigby, once we’ve dealt with this ghastly beast, might I borrow your box and ask an old professor friend of mine to have a look at it?”

“Certainly, sir,” Ian said, although his heart sank a bit. It seemed that keeping the small treasure all to himself was proving harder than he’d expected. Still, he reasoned that perhaps this professor friend of Thatcher’s might be able to tell him how valuable it was. Thoughts of newspaper headlines declaring a priceless artifact found by a young boy explorer floated briefly through his mind.

Thatcher handed the box back to him. “Very good,” he said. “It’s a fascinating relic to be so far from home.”

Ian held on to it tightly as they drove the short distance to Castle Dover. Massive and situated on top of one of the highest hills in the surrounding countryside, the castle could be seen from either tower of the keep, and Ian was always eager to visit the old building. He was a frequent visitor, as he’d been allowed access to the earl’s personal library and was often traipsing through the opulent and well-manicured gardens on his way to select a new book.

As the parade of motorcars entered the castle’s gates and continued down the long driveway, the earl announced, “I’ve had the cooks arrange breakfast for the children while the rest of the staff prepares adequate sleeping quarters.”

“How long do you think it will be before they can return to the keep?” asked Perry, next to Ian in the backseat.

“I’ve got my man Binsford on it. He’s a very capable chap, and he’ll have it repaired in no time,” said the earl confidently. “Master Wigby,” he called into the backseat.

“Yes, my lord?” said Ian, enjoying the thrill of riding along in the earl’s fabulous motorcar.

“I’ve asked the cooks to prepare us a simple breakfast of toast and tea to allow us to get to that tunnel straightaway. When the other children are sent into the dining room, you stay with the schoolmasters.”

“Yes, sir,” Ian said with a vigorous nod. He didn’t mind that he would be skipping the hot and probably lavish meal prepared by the cooks of Castle Dover. He doubted he’d be able to eat much, anyway. He remembered clearly how tight the corridor that linked the two caverns was, and he had a flash of fear as he thought about the beast devouring them one by one in that cramped space.

The earl parked his Packard at the head of the fleet of motorcars, and one by one the car doors were opened and all the children hurried out to queue up again in the driveway, waiting for the command to go inside. Many of them openly ogled the huge castle and the beautiful grounds. Ian walked over to join Carl, who was next to Theo, and Ian smiled at the look of amazement on his new friend’s face. “It’s even better on the inside,” Ian said to him knowingly.

“I’ve never seen anything like it!” breathed Carl. “Blimey, you’d need a map just to find your way to the loo!”

Theo and Ian laughed. “Best we get in the queue,” said Theo as more and more children gathered from the cars.

“You two go on,” Ian said to them. “I’ve been asked by the earl to lead the men back to the beast’s lair.”

Theo looked worriedly at him. “Be careful, all right?” she said. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and she and Carl moved to their places in line.

Madam Scargill was once again encouraging the children as she moved about the group, saying, “Queue up by height, everyone, smallest children first.”

Finally, when the last of the children had taken his place, the massive wood doors of the castle swung open and out stepped a man and a woman, both crisply dressed in dark gray. The woman, Ian noticed, eyed the group of children warily as she stepped down the stairs to greet the earl, and Ian thought he saw her sniff and wrinkle her nose as she took them all in.

“Everything is prepared, my lord,” said the man with a low bow.

“Good man, Binsford,” the earl answered. Then, glancing at the woman wrinkling her nose, he said, “Not to worry, Miss Carlyle. They’ll be here only as long as necessary.”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” she answered with a deep curtsy. Ian couldn’t help curling his lip a bit at her reaction. He remembered Miss Carlyle from his last stay at the castle. She’d been most curt with the children, insisting that they whisper and eat dinner silently. He remembered that even Madam Scargill had taken issue with her attitude back then.

As Miss Carlyle made her way back up the stairs, the earl turned to the group and with a clap of his hands said, “All right, my children, in you go, single file. Please follow Miss Carlyle and do not wander off. It’s easy to get lost in the
castle, and we don’t presently have the resources to spare searching for you should you wander off.”

Many of the more well-behaved children nodded directly at the earl before hurrying forward single file to follow Miss Carlyle while Madams Dimbleby and Scargill brought up the rear. Ian noticed with a satisfied smirk that Searle quickened his pace as he passed the earl, obviously still stinging from the earlier rebuke.

As the last of the children disappeared through the doors, a group of servants came out and descended the steps. They were loaded with rifles, ammunition, and hunting supplies. “How many men could you secure for the hunt?” the earl asked Binsford.

“Ten, my lord,” he said, and as if on cue, Ian heard the rumble of another parade of motorcars coming down the castle’s long driveway.

Ian watched as the first automobile parked and out bounded a short portly man with a bushy mustache that curled into little loops at the tips. “Hastings!” the man called with enthusiasm as he waddled up to the earl. “I came as soon as I heard!”

“Thank you for joining us so quickly, Ciaran,” said the earl, shaking the man’s hand vigorously. Ian wondered how such a rotund man was going to manage through the narrow passage of the tunnel they were about to explore. And he was surprised when two additional men, much taller, leaner, and younger than Ciaran, appeared at his side and were introduced. “You remember my sons, Henry and Alfred?”

“Yes, of course,” said the earl, and he shook their hands too.

“Father told us there’s a wild beast roaming the area,” said Alfred.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” answered the earl. “It attacked my orphanage last evening, and very nearly killed a few of the children.”

“Dreadful!” said Ciaran, the little loops on his mustache bouncing as he spoke. “Your man Binsford said it’s some sort of giant wild dog.”

The earl’s face became very grave. “I’m afraid it’s much worse than that, old friend,” he said. “When I was a lad, my mother told me stories about a wild beast straight from the gates of hell roaming Europe and snatching up children from their beds.”

“Are you referring to that old wives’ tale about the hell-hound?” asked Alfred. The earl stared him straight in the eye and nodded. “Surely, my lord, you must be joking!” Alfred said, laughing.

“I’m afraid this is no joke,” said the earl solemnly. “The hellhound exists. I’ve seen it with my very eyes, and this boy, Ian Wigby, has personally been attacked by it.” The earl nodded at Ian, who flushed as the attention was suddenly turned on him.

Under the astonished stare of so many eyes, Ian waved awkwardly and offered a meek hello.

The earl rested his hand on Ian’s good shoulder and told the group, “It was a sheer miracle that this brave lad was in fact able to hold off the beast with only an axe handle until we could arrive to shoot it twice, and still it survived our gunfire and managed to leap through a third-story window and run off with barely a trace left behind.”