The Red Pearl (5 page)

ANTONIA COULD HAVE STOOD TO sleep in a while longer. But Robin and his father were already loading the horseless carriage with supplies at dawn, and she felt obligated to assist. After a hurried bath in the washroom, she changed back into Mrs. Watkins’s blue and white dress. She found Dr. Watkins in the guest chamber upon her return, stuffing the rest of the summer gowns into a valise.

He inclined his head. “Good morning, Miss Korelli.”

“Good morning, Doctor.”

He held out the valise. “Please, take these for your journey.”

She hesitated. It was his late wife’s wardrobe, after all. “You are certain?”

“I’ve no use for them here.” He shrugged sadly. “Best they go to a maiden in need of them.”

Antonia received the case. “I’ll take good care of them,” she avowed, just as Robin poked his auburn head through the doorway.

“Good. You’re up,” was all he said to her, before marching up the front hall.

Dr. Watkins shook his head. “It may not be evident, my dear, but I swear, his mother and I raised him with manners.”

Antonia followed the men out to the shed, sidestepping Maverick, who wove excitedly between their legs. The carriage, parked on a dirt path, overflowed with bags of food the men had managed to scrounge together, and what looked like gardening tools. “Why do we need a shovel?” she asked, fingering the steely item curiously.

“I’m on a hunt, Annie,” grunted Robin, his back to her as he rummaged through a cobwebby bag on the shed floor. “Ever heard of digging for buried treasure?”

Antonia blinked. Buried treasure? But before she could inquire further, Robin issued a confused sound, and extracted a rusty pair of iron manacles. “Why on earth do you have
these,
Thad?”

Dr. Watkins’s face lit up. “So
that’s
where those were hiding!”

His son arched an eyebrow.

“Your great grandfather, the constable, gave me those years ago.” He grinned. “Neat, aren’t they?”

“Hmm.” Robin surveyed the wrist cuffs, opening and closing them. “Mind if I borrow them? Might come in handy.”

His father shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Antonia stepped back as Robin tossed the manacles into the carriage. They landed with a
clang
atop a crate of glass water bottles. “I think that’s enough supplies, Robin,” she decided.

Surprisingly, the man did not argue, only rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his trousers.

After adding the valise of summer gowns to the carriage, Antonia thanked Dr. Watkins again. He shook her hand, then embraced his son. At last, she, Robin and Maverick climbed into the horseless carriage, and Robin shoved the key into the ignition. The motor rumbled, vibrating beneath them, and Antonia gave a start. She’d watched the vehicle move the previous day, but hadn’t known what it felt like to ride inside, until then.

Robin extended his foot to the pedal, and the carriage launched down the dirt path, heading west while the sun rose behind them. Antonia’s heart hammered as the wind rushed through her hair. The experience was both terrifying and exhilarating at once.

Beside her, the black dog had no reservations, squinting against the racing breeze, its tongue lolling out the side of its muzzle. Antonia groaned with dismay as a trickle of drool issued down onto her skirts.

She turned to Robin. “So, we’re headed to Axacola now?” She had to shout to be heard over the motor.

“Aye,” he replied, just as loudly.

“Then shouldn’t we go north,” she inquired, “where the road continues?”

He shook his head, ochre hair flapping in the breeze. “With this thing,” he patted the steering wheel appreciatively, “we can shuttle straight through the Pirsi Desert!”

Antonia felt a chill at these words. “I don’t know if driving through the desert is such a good idea, Rob…”

But he only pointed to a rippling pond as they zoomed past. “Look, Annie, swans!”

A bevy of swans indeed gathered there, luxurious wings flapping as they landed with grace into the water. Antonia was momentarily disarmed by their beauty, arching her neck to watch until she and Robin rounded the road’s bend.

They drove through the day, stopping only briefly for lunch, and continued well into the afternoon. While at first, they’d conversed to pass the time, their voices were now tired from lifting over the chug of the motor, cheeks raw from the constant whip of wind in their faces, and Antonia’s spine felt stiff.

“Evening approaches,” she warned her companion, indicating the oncoming sunset. “We won’t be able to see for much longer.”

“I know.” Robin eyed the surrounding scenery. The trees had long since thinned out, the landscape becoming dustier and rockier by the mile. “I’d wager here’s as good a place as any to stop.”

He parked the carriage. Antonia gasped as Maverick hopped over her in his haste to disembark, large padded paws launching off of her thighs.

“Mav,”
scolded Robin, hurrying down after him.

Antonia was brushing the dirt from her skirts when the man opened the door for her. She glanced up, startled by the uncharacteristic act of chivalry. He offered a hand, and she took it, climbing down onto the rocky terrain.

After drinking from their glass water bottles, Antonia went to fetch the canvas tent. But Robin merely shrugged. “We need not go through all that trouble out here. It’s a clear night; we could sleep beneath the stars.”

Something about the way he suggested this, the unusual softness in his tone, made Antonia shiver. She knew she ought to decline, that spending another night in the tent by herself was only proper… Yet, she did not want to. Why, she
wanted
to sleep outdoors, she realized, a sense of adventure overtaking her. There was no need to continue sheltering herself. She was out of the temple, after all. “I…I’d like that,” she confessed.

Did his expression brighten? “Good thing I brought a spare bedroll for you, then,” Robin grinned. He turned and rummaged through their supplies.

Antonia followed him, bemused. “You did?”

In response, he hoisted a large sleeping sack from the pile and unexpectedly tossed it at her.

“Oof.”
She caught it as it collided with her stomach. At once, she glared at him. “I am standing five feet away! You could have just handed it to me.”

He only continued fishing through their supplies, and Antonia sighed, retreating across the sandy earth, the bundle tucked under her arm. After a minute, Robin joined her with his rucksack, finding his pace alongside her.

“Sorry,” he chirped. “I was only checking to see how good of a catch you were.”

Antonia nearly tripped over a rock. But before she could ask what the devil he meant by such a statement, Robin gripped her elbow, steadying her. “You all right?” he demanded.

She nodded, meeting his eyes. Why, they were almost aquamarine in this light…

“Jeez, Annie.” He turned away. “Watch where you’re going.”

She could only trail after him, feeling strange as her elbow tingled where he’d grabbed it. “Erm, Robin?” She glanced around. “Is this the desert?”

He strode ahead. “Outskirts of it, looks like.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to sleep out here?” One look at the desolate landscape stretching before them, and she was having second thoughts. “Aren’t there…snakes and scorpions—?”

His laughter interrupted her. “You sure like to worry.”

Antonia bit her tongue. She was only trying to be wise. How foolish would they be to expose themselves to the dangers of the desert needlessly, when they’d a perfectly good tent in the carriage? But apparently, the man was unconcerned.

They found a spot of ground that was as flat as they could hope for, and finally set down their baggage. Antonia unfurled her bedroll, and noticed a name embroidered across the pillow. “Miriam,” she read, curious.

“That was my mother’s name.” To Antonia’s surprise, Robin chuckled. “She hated camping. Meanwhile, Thad and I loved it. He had that made for her, hoping a personalized bedroll might entice her to accompany us on a trip or two.”

Antonia smiled gently. “Did it?”

“No.” He laughed again. “Can’t you tell that thing’s never been slept in?”

She examined the fabric. It did look quite fresh and unused.

“Then again,” he added, “I guess she never really had the chance.”

Antonia watched as he dragged his bedding alongside hers. Perhaps she ought not to ask. As though reading her thoughts, however, the man informed her: “Mum contracted a rare degenerative disease.”

Antonia looked down. “I’m so sorry.”

“At least she’s out of pain now.” He extracted a bowl from his rucksack, and proceeded to empty a bottle of water into it for Maverick. The dog drank thirstily, water droplets splaying every which way.

The sun rolled westward still, dipping down beneath the distant mountain range and casting a striking bronze hue across the horizon. Antonia eyed the sprawling desert illuminated in a glare of gold, when a thought occurred to her. “Rob?”

He rested on his elbows. “Mmm?”

“Earlier, you mentioned something about…being on a hunt. Digging for buried treasure.” She picked at her sandal strap. “Does this have anything to do with the map we’re after?”

He sighed, gazing into the sunset. “Yes, Annie. It has everything to do with the map we’re after.”

Her heartbeat quickened. “It’s a map to buried treasure?”

“To
the
buried treasure.” He faced her, looking quite serious. “Have you ever heard of the Red Pearl?”

Antonia squinted. The name sounded vaguely familiar, conjuring notions of ancient queens in faraway lands to her mind. But she could not recall exactly what it was. “Refresh my memory,” she entreated him.

Robin lay back, watching the darkening desert. “It’s said that more than a thousand years ago, the largest pearl known to man was discovered in the reefs of Axacola. It was large as a plum, and red as wine, the most valuable jewel in all existence.”

Antonia listened as the first trace of the moon imprinted on the evening sky.

“It was immediately brought to the Queen of Ancient Elphysia—that’s modern day Elsland, now—who governed our continent, Otlantica, at the time. She and her daughters kept it in their jealous possession for generations, until the Torcan-Elphysian War.

“When the Torcs seized the Elphysians’ Grand Palace and everything in it, the Red Pearl was supposed to be among their most prized lootings. Yet, as the story goes, the last Elphysian Queen had already hidden it, far away. Rumor has it, she enlisted someone to bury it near its original place of discovery, in Axacola, to be uncovered again only when the Torcs were defeated, and Elphysia ruled once more.”

He took in a breath. “And so, the man who hid the pearl created a map to guide him, or his sons after him, back to the treasure, once Elphysia regained her power. But as we know, the great empire never did return to sovereignty. And everything that once made Elphysia great—its royal bloodline, its language and architecture—has long since faded into antiquity. All that remains is…”

“The religion,” Antonia finished for him. She well knew that the goddess Azea, whom she worshipped, along with all of Otlanica’s other deities, were originally borne of the Ancient Elphysian pantheon.

Robin nodded. “Well, the map was lost to history for centuries. In fact, most believed it never to have existed at all. Indeed, many still think the pearl itself is only legend.

“But one fearless adventurer,” his eyes shone, “by the name of Ricardo Rivera, resolved to seek it, more than sixty years ago. Incredibly, he found the map. Alas, he perished tragically on his search for the pearl. I’m told he was hiking through the canyons and fell.”

Antonia swallowed.

“A man after my own heart, Ricardo was, although he died long before I was ever born.” Robin looked wistful. “One could say I’ve since become his greatest disciple. From the age of fourteen, I’ve been hunting down the map he found. And only mere moons ago did I actually obtain it!”

At this, Antonia looked away. That folded piece of vellum she’d lifted from the ground and freely handed to Robin’s wavy-haired ex-girlfriend was that very map? Antonia had touched it, had held such a significant artifact in her own hands? “Do you mean to say,” she gathered her unsteady breaths, “that yours is the map to the
Red Pearl
?”

He nodded, solemn.

She suddenly understood how outrageous, how foolish it must’ve appeared when she’d so easily given it up, that morning in the brush. Of course, the woman, Rowena, had been aiming a pistol at them. But still, the map—were it truly the legendary map to the legendary pearl—would’ve been worth fighting for. No wonder Robin had been so angry with Antonia.

“You found Ricardo’s map,” she whispered, “after twelve years of searching. Yet, the moment I appeared, I…gave it away, just like that.” Her shame was unbearable.

But his hand fell upon hers. “It’s as we both said,” he reminded her. “If you hadn’t acted, I’d have likely been shot, even killed.”

Antonia’s pulse thumped, for Robin stared at her beneath the night sky, his hand remaining over hers, warming her in the cool shadows. She knew not what he intended to do next. Nervous, she moistened her lips. “S-so tell me how you found Ricardo Rivera’s map.”