Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) (19 page)

Nellie gestured for Catharine and Henry to jump down the hatch. And as the three of them landed on a pile of flour sacks below, footsteps were heard stampeding toward the steamboat.

“Captain Noble,” one Garrison called, but after getting no response he loudly repeated, “CAPTAIN NOBLE!”

“Wha―What?” Captain Noble jerked awake. His pipe clattered against the deck.

Catharine, Henry, and Nellie gathered around the lattice hatch to listen.

“Captain Noble, we are here to inspect the boat. We must make sure the Van Cortlandt descendants aren’t trying to escape,” the voice said and then added harshly. “Since you clearly haven’t been awake long enough to guard the one vessel that leaves Poppel.”

“Van Cortlandt descendants?” Captain Noble repeated with a yawn. “What in the blazes are you blathering about?”

Ignoring the captain, the Garrison turned to his men. “Search the lower compartments.”

Nellie dragged Catharine and Henry down into the hull where paths were cleared between the mounds of crates and sacks.

“Over here.” Nellie pulled aside a heavy sack at the far end of the hull.

Catharine slipped behind the sacks, but it was apparent that there was only room in the compartment for two people. Henry gestured for Nellie to take the final spot, but she rolled her eyes and shoved Henry down next to Catharine. Nellie had just enough time to cover their bodies before the Garrisons stormed down from the deck, raining into the hull like a black-coated flood.

“You there!” a Garrison shouted. “What are you doing?”

Catharine and Henry nervously listened from their hiding space.

“I am going to visit Furnace Brook,” Nellie explained in a steady voice.

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

“Surely, you know about the missing Van Cortlandt descendants,” the Garrison snidely said.

“Yes, but I have not seen anything around here,” Nellie lied. “I’m going to visit Furnace Brook and its workers, as I do every Christmas. You can ask Captain Noble, if you don’t believe me.”

“Search around! See what you can find,” the Garrison leader ordered, still eyeing Nellie suspiciously.

The Garrisons began peeking around the crates while Nellie continued to defend herself against the inquisitive Garrison.

“You can ask any worker at Poppel. They know I visit Furnace Brook when I can,” Nellie stated firmly.

A pair of Garrisons inched toward the concealed Van Cortlandt descendants. As they began to take turns pulling aside sacks, Nellie knew that in only a matter of time, Catharine and Henry would be discovered.

“My presence on this steamboat is not unusual,” Nellie said as she watched the Garrisons out of the corner of her eye. They reached for the sacks hiding Catharine and Henry.

“I am offended by your questioning!” Nellie shouted. As planned, the Garrisons were taken aback by her outburst and momentarily turned away from the sacks.

“I insist that you have your men leave this boat so it may continue to Furnace Brook as planned.”

But the Garrisons went back to ignoring the agitated Foundling, and Nellie watched in horror as they grasped the sacks concealing Henry and Catharine.

Holding her breath, Nellie braced for the inevitable.

“No one else is down here,” a Garrison declared from the other end of the hull.

And after being only a moment away from discovering the hidden Van Cortlandt descendants, the Garrisons let go of the sacks and walked back to the others.

Nellie’s relief was short-lived, however.

“Very well,” the leader replied. “Everyone here will carry on to Furnace Brook in case something was overlooked.” He paused before adding, “In the meantime, I’ll take this Foundling to the Kelder.”

“But… but… I have nothing to do with the Van Cortlandt descendants,” Nellie cried as the Garrisons hauled her away. “I had nothing to do with it! Don’t put me in the Kelder!”

Nellie’s screams echoed throughout the hull until there was only silence.

Harriet pushed a bookcase open and peered out of the gap. After confirming the Boeken Kamer was empty, Harriet stepped out and gestured for Maggie to follow.

“There is also a door hidden behind the maroon curtains in the banquet hall that leads here. But it’s safer to use the tunnels,” Harriet explained. “The Garrisons rarely monitor this place. It no longer holds much value to them.”

The Boeken Kamer was covered ceiling-to-floor with stacks of old books. Harriet walked around tables piled high with thick, worn tomes. Running her hand across a few battered covers, she continued proudly, “Boeken Kamer houses all of Poppel’s records. They go as far back as the fifth century when Nikolas of Myra and the three sisters arrived in Belgium. Only a few Foundlings work in the Boeken Kamer. We make sure all the records of the city and its inhabitants are kept up-to-date by what is reported to us from those working the Sleigh Pit.”

“So you are bookkeepers,” Maggie said simply.

Harriet huffed. “It’s a rather important position. Poppel could not run without the records. Not only would we not know how to navigate the Sleigh Pit, what needs to be delivered and to where, but the entire history of Poppel would be lost.”

After glancing around again, Harriet pulled Maggie onto a ladder that connected to the room’s second level of bookcases.

“There’s something you should see before we find the Van Cortlandt address. But we must be quick,” Harriet muttered under her breath as though someone could be listening.

Harriet shuffled along the second level’s narrow ledge. Although the path in front of the bookcases was railed, Maggie still latched onto the bookshelves as she tried to stay close to Harriet.

“There’s no need to be frightened,” Harriet said, stopping in front of a corner bookcase. But her tone was anything but reassuring.

Maggie watched in shock as Harriet began to scale the shelves, fearlessly climbing toward the ceiling as though she had done it hundreds of times before. When she reached the top shelf, she pulled on a thin green book. Then the entire bookcase slowly opened, revealing a crevice just large enough for a person to slip through.

When Harriet climbed back down to Maggie, they both entered the dark chamber. Harriet grabbed a candle from the back of the bookcase and lit it with a match. The light billowed throughout the space as they approached a short table in the back of the secret chamber. Lying on top of the table was a massive book with elaborate carvings on its dusty, purple cover.

“It belonged to Nikolaos of Myra,” Harriet boasted. “Not many people know of its existence.”

Harriet lifted the fragile cover. Bits of dust and paper fragments swirled up from the pages in the glow of the candle, which Harriet held off to the side so wax wouldn’t drip on the frail paper full of ornate calligraphy.

“The last pages in the book were added after Nikolaos of Myra disappeared.”

With a permitting nod from Harriet, Maggie delicately turned one page at a time. The pages were filled with some kind of ancient script, but Maggie didn’t bother studying the foreign words. Instead she focused on the mosaic illustrations.

The images of Nikolaos of Myra didn’t resemble the St. Nicholas described in
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
. Nikolaos of Myra was thin with a short shadow of a beard, receding hairline, and piercing eyes. The next illustration was of the three sisters about to be sold into slavery by their oppressive father. Grace, Sarah, and Lily appeared young and beautiful but deeply unhappy. A page later showed Nikolaos of Myra giving the sisters their gold.

Maggie’s favorite illustration was Nikolaos of Myra receiving the gift of unlimited time as the four of them sailed across the sea. The waves reached up toward the silver ship and its glowing passengers like a spirit guiding them to a new home.

“The Sister Wheels were given to Nikolaos of Myra on the twenty-fifth of December over a thousand years ago,” Harriet said. “This was before December twenty-fifth was known across the world as Christmas Day. And the wheels can only be reunited on the day they were first bestowed onto Nikolaos of Myra. Which is why it’s imperative we act now.”

“If we haven’t much time, then why are you bothering to show me this?” Maggie asked.

“Because I don’t know you,” Harriet said bluntly. “And if we’re going to place all our trust in someone I don’t know, I want that person to at least understand what they’re trying to save.”

Page after page, the story unfolded, from the early days of Poppel to Nicolas Poppelius coming to the Martyrs of Gorkum’s aid. Then there was the blissful union between Grace and Jan Lookerman, where Sarah joined them in the village of Turnhout, and then a haunting illustration of Lily embarking on her own. But when Maggie turned the page to see what became of the youngest sister, a horrifying illustration was sketched into the brittle paper.

Harriet quickly shut the book, nearly slamming Maggie’s finger within the pages.

“What was that?” Maggie asked as the frightening outline of the horned figure pulsed through her mind.

Harriet grabbed Maggie’s hand and led her out of the chamber. “We should find the Van Cortlandt address and return to the others.”

Maggie wanted to ask Harriet about the terrifying image in the book, but Harriet was now too focused on their task to reply. Or at least that’s how she tried to appear when brushing off Maggie’s questions.

They headed back to the first level where Harriet dashed between rows of bookcases. She began climbing another ladder, but this time Maggie did not follow. Moments later, Harriet jumped back down; a crimson book filled with jagged beige paper was stuffed under her arm. She dropped the heavy book onto the wooden floor and swiftly flipped it open, her eyes scanning and fingers turning each page before Maggie could even make out a single word in the thinly scribbled columns.

“Oloff and Annette Van Cortlandt’s grandson, Philip, had five sons of his own, but only two married and had children: Stephen and Pierre. Pierre married Henry’s great great-aunt Joanna and inherited Van Cortlandt Manor where Henry and your sister, Catharine, are headed now,” Harriet read quickly, her finger slithering down the columns of names and dates. “The older son, Stephen, meanwhile, inherited his father’s house in the city and lived there with his two sons, Philip and William. Philip inherited the house for his large family, most of which either died young or childless. But his daughter, Elizabeth, and her husband, William Taylor, were eventually given the house.”

“Elizabeth Van Cortlandt Taylor? That’s Grandmother Catharine’s mother. Well, Grandmother Catharine clearly didn’t inherit the house, so who did?”

“Your grandmother’s brother, Sir Pringle Taylor,” Harriet read. “But he currently resides in England, so the Van Cortlandt house stands empty.”

“Where is it?” Maggie asked.

After closely studying the text, Harriet’s eyes popped open.

“Ten Sylvan Terrace.”

And with that, Maggie and Harriet slipped out of the Boeken Kamer just as quietly as they’d arrived.

Maggie and Harriet met up with Ward, Clemmie, and Louis near the Sleigh Pit. The plan was to go as far as they could within the Foundling tunnels and then sneak upon a sleigh running toward Sylvan Terrace, which was located near the northern end of Manhattan.

“When you get to the caverns with the passages leading to the ash pits, look for the inscriptions above the doorway,” Harriet explained. “You want to exit at 188D. Ward will know what to do.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Louis asked.

“The fewer Foundlings to get involved, the better,” Harriet said.

“And we need as many Foundlings as we can in Poppel right now. We’ve been planning an uprising against the Garrisons since they took over,” Ward explained. “Because we’re monitored closely, it’s been difficult to build weapons of our own. Over the years, we’ve had to sneak into the workshop during the night and between Garrison shifts.”

“And have you actually built anything?” Louis asked. “Or are you just going to fight them with sugarplums?”

Ward’s eyes widened. “We’ve made many weapons. The problem is even if we did overthrow the Garrisons, more officials from the outside could be sent down and we’d be right back where we started.” Ward’s voice dropped and he added, “Or they may just wipe out Poppel and the Foundlings completely.”