The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons (14 page)

“Good riddance!” Georgie said. “I'm ascared of her!”

“You're just as dumb as Walter,” Annie cried. “Nessa was my friend! My fairy!” Her shoulders hunched up and down with her sobs.

Marni reached for her. “She'll be back—I feel sure of it! Wee folk are territorial. She'll be longing for her cupboard before the day's out.”

“And,” I added, “she'll be missing you as much as you miss her.”

“Not after you stuck her in a jar,” Georgie said.

It took the rest of the ride for Annie to stop sniveling, the sleeve of her dress wet with tears. Pru slowed the donkeys, stopped, and studied the map.

Once again the queen of diamonds bullied her way out of Pru's pocket and floated in front of her. “Over there, for heaven's sake!” She reached off the card, pointing in a westerly direction. “Just beyond that hill.”

“Thank you, Granny,” Pru said, smiling.

“Don't call me Granny—makes me sound old.”

“You
are
old!” Pru teased. We climbed out, hiked across a small hill, and scaled the stone wall.

“Oh my!” Prudence exclaimed. Molly gasped.

A crumbling foundation nosed through sprouts of grass and gorse, the area inside the perimeter void of the rocky puzzle pieces that characterized the locale. It was easy to see where a stairway had stood, and I could make out what must have been the walls dividing the place into a large common room with several smaller quarters behind it.

“It's been abandoned,” Pru said, a frown pulling at her mouth. “I'm not sure what we can hope to find here now. . . .”

“Take me out and I'll show ye's a thing or two.”

I plucked the card and held it out before me, sweeping my arm from left to right, providing a panorama of the place.

Molly leaned off the card, squinting. “Eyes ain't what they used to be,” she complained. “Hold it! There!”

She waved her index finger to the east corner of the ruins, where a huge pile of rubble sat. “Under there—under them rocks! That was where I had the vault built!”

We all attacked the pile, Walter, Pru, and I hauling the larger stones, Marni, Georgie, and Annie the smaller. It was backbreaking work, made even more unpleasant by Molly's exasperated directives. “Move that big one—there, that's it! What's takin' ye so long? Heave ho! At this rate it'll be nightfall before ye're done!”

I looked at Walter, a large dirty rock pressed against my chest, and rolled my eyes. He grinned at me in the way he used to. It was so unexpected I almost lost my footing. Perhaps he'd forgotten that he didn't like me much anymore. I returned the smile, but not quickly enough. He'd already bent to retrieve another stone.

“Look!” Pru shouted.

“Yep, I think ye found it!” Molly whooped.

We circled around Pru and stared at the small area she'd cleared. Visible below were the remains of a thick, hardwood trapdoor.

“That's where I hid the treasure!” Molly exclaimed. “And that's where it was stolen from!”

“It's worth a good look,” Walter said.

We hauled off the remaining stones, slowly exposing more and more of the trapdoor. Most of it was still intact, though parts were worm eaten and weakened with rot. Finally we rolled away the last of the rubble.

“Okay,” Walter said. He squatted, positioned one hand in the hole that once housed a handle, and got a good grasp with the other hand. “Here goes,” he said. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”

20

T
he door lifted slowly. There was a flurry of movement in the darkness below. Had it become a den for some wild creature? Walter let go of the door and it slammed shut, sending up a cloud of dusty dirt.

“Could be a bear,” Georgie said, eyes wide.

“No,” Marni answered. “Haven't been bears in Ireland for centuries. I believe it's something quite tame.” Her face had a look of intense curiosity and something like hope. “Open it slowly. We'll all grab hold and throw it back together.”

Walter lifted the door just enough for us to curl our fingers around the edge. We pulled, straining with the heft of the panel, but once it was upright, it pushed back easily. “Oh my!” Annie exclaimed.

Huddled in the back corner was a group of children about Georgie's age. Their faces were dirty and their filthy clothes hung like rags. A red-haired boy, wild-eyed, swift and cunning as a fox, attempted to scurry up the side and away, but Walter nabbed him. In a chorus of protests the rest scrambled out, surrounding Walter, with fists at the ready.

“What're you kids up to?” Walter demanded. The red-haired boy writhed and kicked.

“Let 'im go! He ain't done nothin'!”

“Yeah, we ain't botherin' nobody!”

I stared at a girl with gapped teeth, a headful of tangled, straw-colored hair. She wielded a stick that was not much thicker than her own skinny limbs. Something about her seemed familiar. That's when I noticed the smock she wore—the apron, once white, now gray and yellow with grime, its edges frayed.

“You're from the workhouse!” I exclaimed.

“We ain't goin' back there t' that hell hole,” one boy yelled, raising a cheer from the rest. “We'll fight t' the death to stay on our own, we will!”

“We's banded t'gether, and we's stayin' t'gether!” another hollered. More cheering seemed to bolster their confidence. There were eight of them in all, five boys and three girls, scrawny, scowling waifs. For a moment I imagined Seamus, as a child, among them. Yes, I could see where he got his independent streak, his boldness. It made sense. My heart suddenly went out to this brave, scrappy band of waifs.

Marni's face softened and she stepped toward them. She had a way of reaching out that inspired trust—just like the first time she'd approached me. “No need to worry,” she said evenly, taking them in with those sea-green eyes of hers. “We have no intention of harming you in any way.”

“Ye ain't from 'round here,” the straw-haired girl said. “Ye talk funny!”

Marni nodded. “You, young lady, are very bright and observant. We're from the States, on a quest of sorts. But you needn't worry—our business has nothing to do with you.”

I could see the girl immediately warming to her, basking in Marni's compliment. But a pale, freckled boy with jet-black hair crossed his arms defiantly. “Don't listen to her, Meg,” he said. “Prob'ly a trick to get us t' trust 'em 'fore they catch us and drag us back there.”

Meg chewed her lip. “Rory, ye don't know everthin'. Indeed, she does talk like a Yank.”

Rory eyed Walter. “If ye don't mean no harm, let go o' Paddy.”

Walter shrugged and released the red-haired boy, who'd been resisting so violently that he fell on his backside with a thump.

Georgie and Annie peered at the motley crew of children, surely appalled by their disheveled appearance. They were like a pack of feral dogs, frightened, hungry, and ready to bite. “What're ye lookin' at?” Rory demanded. He puffed up his chest and leaned toward Georgie. “Didn't nobody tell ye's it ain't nice to stare?”

Pru interrupted. “When was the last time you children had something to eat?” She knelt, removed a package from her satchel, and unwrapped a hunk of cheddar, some soda bread, and a knife. The modest snack became the focal point, the children's eyes and mouths open in anticipation. They inched closer, their small circle tightening, the cheese and bread drawing them like a magnet.

Rory held them back. “We don' need yer food,” he said. “We's fendin' fer ourselves!”

The other children looked at him reluctantly, their shoulders slumping. I could feel their hunger in my own gut. Ignoring Rory, Pru sliced the cheese into small wedges, broke the bread in chunks, and arranged it all on a large rock. I glanced at Marni, expecting her to find a way to circumvent their pride so they could accept Pru's offering. But she was staring off to the east, facing the wind, her hair blowing back in a silver stream. Once again she had the look of a greyhound sniffing the air, poised for danger. I followed her gaze and my heart dropped. A cloud of heavy, dark mist was swirling in, gliding across the rocky ground, enveloping everything in its path. The unmistakable smell of woodsmoke pinched my nostrils and burned my eyes. “The Grey Man!” Walter exclaimed. “Quick! Take one another's hands so we don't get separated!”

Recalling our previous close calls, our little group moved swiftly together. Walter wove his fingers through mine and pulled me close. We reached and groped for the workhouse children, to bring them into the safety of our fold, but they scattered like frightened sheep, disappearing into the mist. In the second it took for us to connect, the sinister force overtook us, swallowing everything in its path in a thick, acrid sheath of smoke.

It was far worse than it'd been at Clare Island. We coughed and choked, wretched and gasped for air, only to be further strangled by the poisonous vapor. Still we clung to one another, terrified of being isolated and swept away by the force of the Grey Man's malevolence. We couldn't see one another at all, and if not for the intertwined fingers, I'd have believed I was all alone. Accompanying the physical pain was a terrible, pressing sense of dread, enough to make me want to give up and be overtaken by it. My legs and arms felt heavy, my brain lethargic. My knees folded beneath me. Someone was sprawled on the ground at my feet, but I could not respond to their need. The wheezing and panting of my friends seemed a far-off reality, and I drifted deeper into myself, my life force waning.

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light, a shooting zigzag of color slicing the mist. A buzz beside one ear, then the other. The narrow beams left a trail of color, a mysterious force scribbling in the air around us.

Youthinkyoucansuffocatemypeople?

Wellyoucan't!

Ifanybody'sgonnakillthemit'llbeme!

“Nessa!” Annie rasped between coughs. “I knew you'd save us! The Grey Man's
nothing
compared to you!”

Atleastyou'rerightaboutthat!

As if in response there was a deep rumbling sound like far-off thunder. The sky darkened ominously.

Nessa's iridescent scribbling dissipated, its color bleeding, tinting, and then erasing small areas of the Grey Man's vapor, creating pockets of breathable air.

BigBLOWHARD!Tryandcatchme!
Nessa zoomed in crazy loop-de-loops and figure eights, creating a haze of rainbow-colored light. Her revolutions were so fast that my head began to spin. I had to shut my eyes to control the dizziness.

A clap of thunder, followed by a vicious, jagged bolt of lightning. I felt the hair on my arms stand up, prickling at the vindictive energy. This only seemed to encourage Nessa.

Hahahahahaha!Youdon'tscareme!What'salittlethunder­andlightning?!
She accelerated her colorful frenzy of flight, orbiting in larger and larger circles, leaving a trail of brilliant hues that steeped, then obliterated, the gray fog. The sound accompanying this feat was that of an entire swarm of bees, an angry, incessant buzz. I closed my eyes and held on tight, Walter's fingers still intertwined with mine on one side, Annie's on the other.

Gradually the buzzing diminished to a faint flutter, and the horrible pressure on my chest lifted. I cautiously opened my eyes. All that was left of the Grey Man was a wimpish curl of mist. A breeze tickled it and carried it off. The others, too, were coming around. I was aware of Walter untangling his fingers from mine, avoiding my eyes. I snatched my hand back and thrust it into my pocket. Nessa dipped in lazy arcs around us, gloating over her success.

Hahahahaha!IguessBIGGERisn'tbetter!

TaughthimaLESSON!

She zipped in front of Annie and hovered there.

NowIneedtoteachYOUalesson!

“Wait!” Annie cried.

Nessa tipped her head, considering.

“Think of the story you'll have to tell the other fairies,” Annie continued. “And if they don't believe you, I'll tell them the whole thing!”

HowdoIknowyou'renotlying?

“If I don't do what I say you can shoot me with a fairy dart!”

“Annie!” Walter looked stricken. “You don't know what you're saying!”

“I know I'm telling the truth,” Annie replied.

Okay.Okay.AslongasyoutellthemhowGREATIam!

“I will!” Annie promised.

Marni had pulled herself to her feet and stared out across the desolate landscape. “They're gone,” she whispered.

My eyes darted from the pile of rubble we'd excavated and out over the rocky terrain, from east to west, north to south.

Marni was right. The ruffians from the workhouse had vanished without a trace.

21

T
he queen of diamonds nosed out of Pru's pocket. “May have disappeared, but they managed t' make off with the bread and cheese. Crafty ones, them urchins!”

Pru stared into the pit we'd uncovered. From the angle we were standing we had a full view of the chamber in which the treasure was once housed. “Look!” Pru said. The compact space was littered with things the children must have left behind—a small lantern, a bucket, a couple of threadbare blankets, and a pile of hay. “They used this place for shelter. And there—at the back of the vault . . .” Three of the four stone-and-brick walls were mostly intact—but in the middle of the back wall was an opening, roughly three feet in circumference. “So, that's how they got in and out. . . .”

“Wasn't there in my day,” Molly proclaimed.

My eye was drawn to the cornerstone—a huge, block-shaped rock supporting the back wall, just below the hollowed-out place. “What's this?” I murmured, kneeling before what appeared to be an etching. I peered at the design, ran my finger through the chiseled channel.

“Lemme see,” Molly squawked, squinting over my shoulder. “It's 'is mark,”she said, “the lazy lug who built this place. Dirk was 'is name. Couldn't read nor write, signed everthin' that way. Combination o' the first and last letter of 'is name. D—K.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Did you say Dirk?”

“That's what I said!”

The name was so familiar, but for the life of me I couldn't place it.

“I'm going in!” Walter exclaimed.

Nessa hovered at the portal, peering into the tunnel.
MEfirst!

With that, she was gone, the light that still radiated around her dimly lighting the passageway. Walter hesitated, a frown forming as he examined his finger.

I gave his arm a squeeze and hoisted myself into the burrow. It had the musty smell of earth, and the air was cool and moist. Strands of invisible webs brushed my face. Crawling along the debris-strewn floor, my palms and knees smarted, but I persisted in following Nessa's lead. So close were the walls that my back often scraped the top, sending down a rain of dirt and pebbles. I had to concentrate on the light up ahead in order to fight off the claustrophobia that set my heart trembling.

Without warning I found myself in total darkness. “Nessa,” I whispered. My mouth was dry and I fought the panic rising in my throat. “Nessa?”

Nothing. I considered going back, but it would be nearly impossible to reverse my path through the tunnel. While contemplating this, something skittered over my hand. I recoiled, heart thumping. I thought of Old Peader, buried alive, and shuddered. I had to keep my wits about me. I crept on, the narrow walls forcing me in the only direction I could go. As fast as I could I wriggled along until my head butted a solid wall. The good news was that I saw a bit of light off to the left. In fact, the passageway angled sharply in that direction. I slid through the opening, only to discover that the shaft grew even narrower, requiring me to slither on my belly like a snake. The hint of light was stronger now, perhaps coming from some greater source—hopefully the place where the tunnel ascended to the surface. I dragged myself forward on my elbows, pushing as best I could with my knees. My hands and the earth below them were finally visible, and a small draft of air brushed my face.

Suddenly I felt something tickling my scalp, moving through my hair. I shook my head violently.

HEY!What'reyoudoing?

“Oh! Nessa! Thank goodness! I thought you were a mouse. . . .”

That'sinsulting!

I managed to look up enough to see the shaft giving way to daylight, a circle of white sky, partially obstructed by plumes of grass.

Here'swhereitends!Outwego!

She stayed perched on my head while I propelled myself toward the mouth of the shaft, and heaved myself out. I wiped the dirt from my face, stared at my bloodied hands. My clothes were filthy, my hair surely a sight. I pulled myself to my feet and brushed off my clothes as best I could. The tunnel opened just over the crest of a hill beyond the ruins of the inn, its mouth well hidden. It was easy to see how the children must have entered the burrow from the treasure vault and scooted out the other end, undetected. And how Dirk could have removed the treasure.

“Over here!” I shouted. I could see our group in the distance, still staring into the pit. In an instant they were running toward me. Nessa performed some fairy acrobatics, showing off what I'm sure she saw as her superior performance within the tunnel.

Walter arrived first, Georgie right behind him. “What did you find?”

Nothin'inthere!

“Besides dirt and bugs . . . ,” I added.

“Yeah, but it's a way in and out of the vault!” Walter said.

“Yes,” Pru added, “brilliant. The lay of the land and angle of the tunnel enabling the thief to remove the treasure out of view of the inn.”

Molly flipped into the air. “Impossible!” she protested.

“Whoever went to that much trouble to dig a tunnel could have just as easily rebuilt the wall behind them,” Marni said. “Without you knowing.”

“No way the chest could've been spirited through that space,” Molly retorted. “Nope. Too small.”

“It was a long time ago,” Walter mused. “Sections must have caved in. Those kids probably discovered it and dug it out to make it passable.”

Pru tossed back her mane of curls and ran her hands through the thick tumble. Her face was still smudged with the Grey Man's soot. “Walter's right,” she said. “But that brings us to another dead end. Let's assume Dirk dug the tunnel and was actually able to move the treasure chest through and out the other end—then what?”

We looked across the Burren—miles and miles of the same rocky, treeless countryside. No place to hide. Molly floated up for a panoramic view. “I woulda seen 'em makin' their getaway.”

“But you didn't,” Pru said.

Nessa flitted before Molly, and took hold of both sides of the card.

“Unhand me!” Molly demanded. “Let go!”

Wouldbenicetohavetwoqueens!

“Oh, no ye don't!” Molly squawked, repelling the hovering imp, the edge of the card straining against Nessa's hands. “You didn't want me before, and ye ain't gettin' me now! A deal's a deal!” Nessa held tight, and the two of them engaged in an in-flight dance, circling and dipping. Molly reached off the card, attempting to pry herself from Nessa's clutches.

Pru nabbed the card, Nessa still clinging to it. “That's enough!” Pru said. “Molly's right. A deal
is
a deal!”

Nessa let go with one hand and rotated toward Pru.
WhatifIknewsomething?

“Like what?”

Secrethiddenplaces—likewhereyoucouldburyatreasurechest?Orhideout.Theancientweefolkknowalltheundergroundspaces!

Pru expertly flicked the card, disengaging Nessa's remaining hand.

“Thank you!” Molly said, straightening up and settling back.

Pru held the queen of diamonds before the fairy, just out of reach. There was not a shred of fear or trepidation on my aunt's face, her jaw set, brow creased, gaze steady. “Nessa—tell me what you know, and
if
what you have to say yields some result, the card is yours.”

“What are you saying?” Molly yelled. “No fair! I'm your granny, after all!”

Pru ignored her, staring intently at Nessa, willing her to reveal something more.

Ohyesyesyes!

Nessa grabbed for the card again, but Pru withdrew it. “Think about it first, Nessa. Because if you're toying with me, I promise one of us will catch you and put you back in that jar. I'll put some holes in the top so you can breathe, and drop in some bugs now and then for your dinner, a few drops of water, but that will be it.”

Annie and I gasped. Walter's face turned white. Nessa's an angry shade of red. In one swift move Nessa reached into a breast pocket and withdrew a glistening hairlike shaft, slipped it into a hollow blade of grass, and brought it to her lips. Pru didn't so much as blink. Again she waved the card in front of her.

Nessa hesitated.
IcouldshootyouRIGHTonthenose.Wouldn'tbesoprettyTHEN,wouldyou?

Apparently the thought of a huge purple nose didn't phase my aunt in the least. “Go ahead,” Pru said. “What you don't know is that we still have the antidote. Only used a drop for Walter.” Annie opened her mouth to correct her, but Walter silenced her with a look.

You'rebluffing!

“Try me,” Pru challenged. “Annie, go get your jar from the wagon.”

Nessa's bottom lip curled in a pout as she reluctantly lowered the dart.

Iwon'tforgetthis!

“It's good that you remember. You'll think twice the next time you decide to go back on your word, or extort something from us that you decide you want.”

“I could say the same thing t' you!” Molly yelled, waving a thick finger at Pru. “Two of a kind, you and that bug of a fairy!”

Pru smiled. “Perhaps,” she said. “That's why we understand one another, isn't that right, Nessa?”

Yes!Yes!IfItellyouwhatIknowyou'llgivemethecard?

“
If
what you have to say proves helpful. That's the deal. And if what you say turns out to be nonsense, we'll catch you and put you in the jar. So think carefully before you speak. This will ensure that neither you nor the queen of spades goes back on your word. A little incentive for you to come up with something useful.”

Marni looked at Pru, a slight smile playing on her lips. She nodded, almost unperceptively, affirming the plan.

I'lltellyouinafewdays.Haveafewthingstocheck!

“I'm sure you do.” Pru turned to us. “I think we've accomplished what we came for, don't you?”

We gathered our things and climbed into the wagon. Pru snapped the reins against the donkeys' rumps, and the cart jolted forward. It bumped over the dirt road, carrying us back toward Bally­vaughan. If we hurried we'd arrive in time for dinner.

As we rode I had the peculiar feeling we were being watched. I glanced over my shoulder as we rounded the bend.

That was when I noticed, just over the crest of a distant hill, eight small figures watching our retreat, their ragged clothes flapping in the wind.