Cragbridge Hall, Book One: The Inventor's Secret (2 page)

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m completely serious,” Grandpa interrupted. He grabbed Abby’s face by the chin. “You have heart, Abby. The kind of heart some teachers and academics can only dream about. And I’m not saying that because you’re my granddaughter. You meet your challenges head on. I remember when you struggled with algebra. You spent hours every night studying and doing homework. The time you wanted to take guitar lessons, you saved up for months to pay for them. And when that Greenwich girl spread that dastardly gossip, you stuck it out with dignity. Eventually, you two even got along.”

“Yeah, things ended up okay—”

“You have heart."
Grandpa’s eyes didn’t flinch. “I know it better than anything I’ve discovered, better than anything they’ve ever called genius. I’d stake all my reputation on your success.”

Abby swallowed hard and blinked several times to keep tears from forming. She turned back to the jar.

“Einstein said that he had no special talent,” Grandpa continued, “but that he was passionately curious. Very few people are born extraordinary. You have to earn it. And you, Abby, have the heart to earn it.”

Dad and Mom walked in, with Derick a few steps behind. They were all breathing deeply—the aftereffects of a good laugh.

Abby quickly wiped her eyes.

“Give Grandpa another good hug, and let’s get out of here,” Dad said. “You don’t want to be late for orientation.”

“Wait just a minute,” Grandpa said, his brow wrinkled. “Derick, come over here by Abby. I have something for the two of you.”

Derick obediently stood beside his sister as Grandpa moved over to the fireplace. He picked up a brass-handled shovel and a poker from a matching set. He shoveled away the pile of ashes to one side of the fireplace, then pushed the tip of the poker into the corner of one brick. With a whir and a click, the brick rose out of the floor, and a small metal box appeared beneath it. Grandpa stooped and picked it up.

What kind of a gift did Grandpa keep buried underneath a brick in his fireplace?

“Are you sure?” Dad asked Grandpa, looking at the box.

“Yes, I am,” Grandpa said confidently. “Now, could you grab me a towel?” Dad jogged into the other room.

Grandpa turned to the twins. “I’m very proud of both of you. I’ve decided that you’re mature enough for a few very special gifts.” He wiped the beginnings of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Dad returned with a towel, and Grandpa used it to clean any last traces of ash and soot from the box and from his hands. He set the towel aside, then opened a flap, revealing a lock screen. After a couple of keystrokes, the entire casing unlocked. The box was made of thick metal, and Abby couldn’t see inside it.

Grandpa reached in and pulled out two thin metal bands. “These are history attachments for your rings. Just slide them inside your existing rings.” He handed them to the twins. “They allow you to tap into my database, which means that you have access to some history not yet charted and open to the public. You’ll learn more about what that means after school starts. The attachments will allow you to access my personal files and memories through your rings. I have not kept an adequate journal, but in some ways, this is much better.”

He returned to the box and removed two metal lockets, both attached to thin chains. “And I want to give you these.” He handed one to Abby and the other to Derick. Abby’s locket was heavier than she expected it to be. It had ornate designs around the front, but the locket itself was a simple flat circle.

“I want you to put those somewhere very, very safe—preferably, you’ll wear them. And you’ll need to check them every day.”

“What do you mean?” Derick asked.

“Look at your locket every day,” Grandpa said. “If nothing has changed, then continue with your studies as before. But if something does change, you may be desperately needed. The locket will tell you what to do.” He wrung his hands. “I get especially nervous at the beginning of every school year. It would probably be the best time to ...” He let his sentence trail off as he became lost in thought.

“To what?” Abby asked.

“Please keep your lockets a secret—I cannot stress that enough. No one should know about them, especially not the teachers,” Grandpa said. “Do you have your book collections with you?”

“Yes,” Abby said. “You insisted.”

“Even though no one else in the world uses actual books anymore,” Derick added.

“They should,” Grandpa said. “Nothing beats paper.”

“Time to go,” Dad interrupted.

“Wait,” Derick said. “What’s inside the lockets?”

Grandpa gazed into Derick’s eyes, then into Abby’s. She wasn’t sure what she saw in his eyes—concern? Love? Fear? Grandpa let out a sigh. “I hope you never have to find out.”

2

Orientation

The history classroom looked normal—except for the full-sized pirate ship emerging from the front wall. The new seventh graders of Cragbridge Hall gasped in unison, their eyes wide and mouths open. Abby sat awestruck as the old wood soon surrounded her and the other rows of students, like a ghost ship. She had heard tale after tale about the amazing learning devices at the premiere school, but this was her first experience with living history.

Abby could hardly stay in her seat. She was finally seeing one of her grandfather’s inventions in action. Abby pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind one ear. She didn’t want any distractions. She looked over at Derick. He no longer spoke with the boys sitting next to him. His blue eyes stared ahead, mesmerized.

The teacher, Mr. Hendricks, paced in his button-down shirt, slacks, and shiny loafers. “Welcome to orientation. Because history is your first-period class, I have the pleasure of helping to prepare you for the school year that begins tomorrow. But first, a little history.” He narrated as they watched. “You are about to see one of the most infamous villains from the past few centuries. His name was Edward Teach, a pirate in the early 1700s. The episode you are about to watch happened off the coast of North Carolina in late November, 1718. Teach caused great damage by ransacking ships, setting them on fire, and sinking them. He threatened many people’s lives, but he never killed his captives. He famously sailed a ship called the
Queen Anne’s Revenge,
but today you’ll see him in a smaller vessel—the
Adventure.
”

Abby instinctively rubbed the ring on her index finger, which turned on all the rings she wore on her fingers and thumbs. The virtual screen in her contact lenses flicked on. With a swipe of her finger, she set the screen to appear only in the upper left-hand corner of her vision. Each ring had a sensor that traced that finger’s movement. She could easily type, select, and change programs with them.

Abby virtually typed a few notes:
Edward Teach, 1718, off the coast of North Carolina, The Adventure

How many of the students were actually listening to the teacher’s words? Part of her didn’t want to; it was hard to listen to a lecture with a pirate ship in the room. The other part of her knew she had to focus, had to learn.

More of the ship glided into view. It moaned and creaked under its own weight, swaying from side to side with the waves. The deck wasn’t crowded with pirates like Abby would have imagined. She estimated there were fewer than twenty. As she watched the straggly characters, one man caught her attention—he demanded it. A tall, broad-shouldered man with long, dark hair and a matching beard gazed intently in front of him. His beard was braided into two long strands that moved stiffly as his head swiveled to bark orders. He wore black boots that came up to his knees, and a long dark coat.

Draped across his wide chest was a leather sling holding two pistols in holsters. A third holster hung empty, the pistol in one of the pirate’s hands. His long cutlass was in his other. Jutting out from under his hat and along the bottom of his beard was a series of lit fuses. It was a fire hazard if Abby had ever seen one, but clearly the pirate wasn’t afraid of danger. Smoke curled up from the fuses, surrounding the man’s head in a dark cloud and making him look like some sort of demon. He was the most intimidating person she had ever seen.

Abby looked again at Derick. This time he whispered something to the dark-haired boy sitting next to him, then quickly looked back at the menacing pirate.

Derick and Abby had been at Cragbridge Hall for under an hour. From the time their parents had dropped them off at the great gates until now, they’d only had time to leave their suitcases with a supervisor at their dorms before coming to orientation. Yet Derick had already managed to make some friends. Abby had barely even said hello to anyone.

Mr. Hendricks continued. “Very few people know him by the name Edward Teach. You may recognize his pirate name: Blackbeard.”

A murmur of recognition spread through the class.

Before today, Abby hadn’t realized that Blackbeard was a real person. For all she knew, he was just a character from old novels and movies.

“
Now!
” Blackbeard yelled, and his crew lit fuses in bottles filled with powder. The fuses sparked and sizzled as they flew over the students’ heads, presumably to attack someone behind them. Explosions boomed, and then dust and smoke fogged over the classroom. Students shifted in their seats to look at the back of the room.

Blackbeard squinted, trying to make out details of something in front of him. A partial smile turned only one end of his mouth. “Ready the hooks!” he shouted. Several men grabbed long ropes with eight-inch iron hooks on the ends.

Another ship floated into view. It came from behind the class, drifting closer to Blackbeard and his crew. The hooks flew over the students’ heads, ropes trailing behind, and grabbed at the rails of the other ship, clawing into the wood. Soon the two ships met, filling the classroom. The ropes held them close together.

Blackbeard screamed and lunged over the side of his ship and onto the deck of the other vessel. He fired his pistol at the first movement visible through the haze. Ten men followed him, each shooting on the attack. But as the smoke cleared, only Blackbeard’s pirates were on the bow of the other ship. His head twisted in every direction, searching for his enemy.

Across the deck, the door to the hold flung open. Shots blared, and yells rang out throughout the history room. The marauding pirates had walked right into an ambush.

With swords raised and guns firing, the action paused. A ball hung suspended in the air about a foot from a gun’s barrel. Mr. Hendricks walked into the middle of the image. The pirates, the ships, the water were all frozen.

“The ship that Blackbeard is attacking,
The Pearl,
is captained by Lieutenant Robert Maynard. He’s the one in the uniform at the head of the men who burst out from behind that door.” Mr. Hendricks pointed him out. “Maynard hid more men there than Blackbeard had expected. This is the day that will put Robert Maynard into the history books.”

Abby had never heard of him.

Mr. Hendricks sent the scene rolling again with a flick of his finger. His rings controlled the images like a remote control.

Blackbeard pointed one of his pistols at Maynard and fired. The lieutenant fired back. Blackbeard’s shot buried itself into the banister behind Maynard at the same time as the pirate himself stumbled. Blackbeard had been hit at point-blank range.

He only staggered for a moment. Blackbeard’s lip curled, and he charged Maynard, his cutlass slashing in front of him. The steel of swords collided, anger and adrenaline fueling the fight. The two men attacked and defended in a deadly dance across the blood-stained deck. The other soldiers and pirates fought fiercely around them. Abby scarcely knew where to look, so she tried to look everywhere at once. Her head swiveled from one battle to another, but her attention always returned to Blackbeard.

His long arms wielded his weapon well. He was strong despite his wound. With a furious grunt, the pirate’s sword clashed against Maynard’s, breaking it in two. Several students gasped, and one girl even screamed. Maynard backed up quickly, desperately. He had no chance without his sword. Blackbeard lunged. Someone else’s blade slashed from the side—and the entire scene quickly faded away.

The class groaned in disappointment. Students’ questions filled the room. “What happened?” “Did he die?” “Who won?”

Mr. Hendricks shushed the class. “You know very well that Cragbridge Hall does not show gratuitous violence. This is as far into the battle as you can watch.” Their teacher stood tall and handsome, with short, dark hair tipped with gray. “The sword you saw save Maynard belonged to one of his men. Several others from his ranks also attacked Blackbeard. We don’t know which blow was fatal, but by the end of the day, the pirate had five gunshot wounds, and several deep gashes. This was the last day of the infamous Blackbeard the pirate.”

“You mean, he died?” a boy in the back row blurted out.

“I thought I heard something,” Mr. Hendricks said, motioning that the young man needed to raise his hand. “Though we are an institution with amazing and exciting learning devices, we must still keep order.”

The same boy lifted his arm in the air. “So Blackbeard died?” he repeated sheepishly.

“Yes.” Mr. Hendricks paced to one side of the room. “That is part of why I’m showing this episode for orientation. Blackbeard was a villain. He broke the rules. He stole and plundered what he had not earned and did not deserve. A person cannot live that way and get away with it forever.”

“But ...” another boy started, then caught himself and raised his hand.

Mr. Hendricks called on him.

“But he was so awesome,” the boy defended.

“He may have been ‘awesome,’ but he was also a villain. He should have been caught sooner.” Mr. Hendricks paused. “Much, much sooner. But at the end of the day, he
was
caught. Maynard threw Blackbeard’s body into the sea and hung his head from the bowsprit of his ship.”

Several girls winced. “Disgusting,” a blonde a few rows to Abby’s left whispered. Abby thought Blackbeard probably deserved what he got, but she was glad she hadn’t seen it.