Some quick notes to set up this chapter:
--I went back and incorporated the hog Orwell into the story. He is one of Oddy's pets who Oddy sends to keep an eye on Edith when she takes his boat. He will serve as Edith's grumpy animal companion throughout, functioning as something of an extension of Oddy's own personality.
--I also gave Wernher a pistol, as per suggestions. He's mostly kept it concealed and Edith naturally doesn't know what it is, thinking it to maybe be a knife.
Regarding this chapter, I would like some advice about Wernher's treasure hunt. Do you like the idea of his hunting for one of the Crown Jewels or would you like the salvage to be something more mundane? Are there any parts of the chapter where you think I should slow down the pace? Also I was intending this excursion to slowly break the ice between Edith and Wernher, do you think it works as is or would you like to see it later in the story? I was trying to balance Edith's wanting to get away to keep looking for Anja with her refusal to tell Wernher about her since she doesn't trust him. As always, thanks a bunch for leaving any suggestions, and I can't wait to see what everyone's working on for your next chapters!
Chapter 5—Kings and Queens
The
deeper we ventured into the London Ruins the more ominous they became. I had
always held onto the hope that the Ruins would be something that looked scarier
at a distance than they actually were up close—just a menacing arrangement of water
and old stone. But once you were actually within the dead city it became
something far more sinister.
The waters of the
Ruins were deep, very deep. Staring
into those depths was much like staring into the black of a clouded midnight. At
first I thought it was just a trick of the huge towers’ shadows over the water,
but those shadows only painted over darkness that was already there.
As
we clattered over the paths that Wernher told me were once called motorways, I peered down into the black
depths and clutched to the edge of the cart. The blackness scared me. I was
used to the green—the bits of plants and algae that could survive the hungry
rains lived in the Floods around Rol. I wasn’t accustomed to water being dark
as night. My mind churned with thoughts of the old husks of life that would
surely be at the bottom of this great lake that was the London Ruins. Spoilt
skeletons and belongings of the people of the world before.
“We’re
about twenty meters above the old roads right now,” Wernher said, keeping his
eyes on the twisting path. “You never know what you might find down there.”
London Ruins was a terrifying mix of impossibilities.
Impossible heights, as the skeletal towers rose all around up through the
clouds, farther than my eyes could even look. They were like the ancient
fingers of some giant out of Anja’s stories—fingers of a great hand that
threatened to crush us and drag us down into those impossible depths.
“So, Edith, what
brings you to London?” Wernher scratched his chin while steering the trike
around a bend in the road. “I must say that you looked lost earlier.”
I
rubbed my hand along Orwell’s bristly back. The hog still hadn’t moved since we
got on the trike, his eyes stuck to Wernher like boots stuck in the mud. Not to
say my eyes had done much different. Even as I looked at the waters and the
towers, my eyes always flashed back to the weapon Wernher carried at his side.
I was only waiting for Wernher to trip up and then I’d make my escape with
Orwell. “I was out walking my hog.”
Wernher
laughed. “I cannot doubt that. Not all. I saw the last little bits of your boat
washing down the Thames.”
“Thames?”
Another of his funny words?
Wernher
tilted his head. “The river that runs through London to the coast. Surely you
knew that?”
I
shrugged and munched on another round of bread. It was odd; the bread tasted
very good, but my stomach was starting to feel strange. It rather hurt, but not
like the constant ghostly burn between daily meals. It was as if the bread were
trying to get out from the inside.
“So
why is a young woman such as yourself alone in London?”
I
yawned then burped. The latter was something I had not done in a long, long while.
You had to have food in your belly in order to burp.
“Fine,”
Wernher said, “I suppose I can’t coax you with any more of food, but I’d be
willing to tell you about myself. A give-and-take, you might say.”
“I’m
listening.”
“Good.
Well, is there anything you would like to know about me? Such as where I come
from?”
“Not really.”
Wernher almost
looked disappointed. “Oh. Well, I can tell you I come from across the sea. A land
called Österreich, actually.”
“How nice.”
“Look, Edith, I’m
just trying to be friendly.” Wernher shifted in his seat. “So where are you from?”
“I’m from here,
like you say.”
“Do you have a
family, or have you been surviving all by yourself?”
“I have a big
family.” I leaned toward him, folding my hands across my knees. “Ten big
brothers who don’t need boats and who break the stones of the London Ruins with
their bare hands.”
Wernher chuckled.
“You don’t trust me because trust is earned. I understand.”
*
Wernher pulled the
trike under an overhang from one of the ruins that looked the least like it was
in the process of falling and crushing us. He reached into one of his boxes and
produced a small can and some kind of fabric. He rubbed the fabric together and
a flurry of sparks fell over the can. The waxy surface blazed to life, and I
couldn’t help but stare deep into the nearly magical sight.
“Don’t get too
close or you’ll burn your eyebrows off,” Wernher said while poking through another
box. “I did the same once.”
“Do you have a lot
of things like this where you come from?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Of
course.” He fanned his hand over the flames. “This is nothing.”
Wernher hung a
metal kettle over the fire. I had only heard of such things through stories.
Some of the older people in the village remembered having them as children, but
that was long ago, and even then they were rare. They used to make something
called tea. But now they were all
rusted and broken and no one could remember how to make tea.
“I hope you don’t
take tea with sugar,” Wernher said, pouring water from the kettle. “We’re a bit
short on that lately.”
Tea. My heart raced in my chest. It was
not often one got to taste something right out of the stories. Wernher noticed
and poured some into a small ceramic cup and handed it to me. The white of the
cup was slightly faded and there were tiny cracks running down it from the
golden-ringed lip. A bed of some kind of sediment lined the bottom and bits
gradually floated up.
After Wernher had
taken a sip of his own cup, I raised the cup to my mouth and drank. I spit it
out in a second. My mouth was afire.
Wernher laughed.
“Careful, careful. It’s hot.”
Water leaking from
my eyes and nose against my will, I took a small sip. It was still hot, but I
could manage. The tea tasted very bitter, but it lacked the sour taste of any
of the plants that managed to grow out in the floods. I noticed Orwell snuffle
over to the spit tea on the ground. He licked at the liquid then snorted and
walked off. I ran my hands along the sleeves of my raincoat, brushing off the
water.
“I know you don’t
trust me yet, but there has to be something you could tell me about why you are
here. It would help to know which direction I should take you on the trike.”
I paused, taking
in a deep breath. “I’m looking for something.”
“Perhaps
you could tell me what that might be? Perhaps I could help?”
I
watched the water drip from my fingertips down to the broken ground. Then I
held my hands up to the tiny fire can, enjoying the heat wash over my skin. The
fire was nice—it reminded me of being home with Pa. I assumed Wernher was
thinking the same thing, but he would find that I would not be so easily
tricked into a false feeling of security.
“Tea
is made from plants, no?”
“Yes. Dried and
ground.” Wernher sighed and then finished his cup and poured himself some more.
“We get it from very far away. All the way on the other side of the world.”
“And just how do
you do that?”
“Boats, of course.
Big ships that can weather the open seas.”
“And that’s how
you got here.”
Wernher smiled.
“Yes, actually. My uncle is the captain of a good ship. It helps us greatly to
find new markets for trading.”
“Do you like being
a trader?”
Nodding, he said,
“Of course. I get to meet all kinds of new and interesting people. And the
money doesn’t hurt. Tell me, Edith, have you ever heard of the treasure in
London?”
“Unless, there’s
some food hidden around here, I’m not really interested.”
Wernher laughed.
“I don’t think you’d want to eat any food that’s been sitting here a hundred
years even if we were able to find some. I’m speaking about real treasure. The
kinds of things that outlast the kings and rulers.”
“How is that
treasure going to help me?”
“Well, I am a
trader by trade, as I said. You help me find some treasure, and I’ll make sure
you get paid in food and whatever else you need. You’ve already eaten quite a
bit.”
I glared. “So you gave
me food because you expect me to pay it back?”
Wernher shook his
head. “Of course not, of course not. That was simply a taste of the rewards
that wait for you if you can help me.”
“And why can’t you
just do this yourself?”
“Where’s the fun
in that?” Grinning, Wernher puffed out his chest a bit. “Every great hero needs
to have a beautiful woman by his side when he goes treasure hunting. An
achievement is nothing if it’s done alone. That’s just how it is. And I don’t
think my uncle or any of my cousins would really work.
“I just look at
you and I say to myself, ‘Wernher, this is a girl who will appreciate true
adventure and the joy of the finding.’ It’s rather rare anymore, you know.
Everyone’s so practical with surviving and getting by.”
I snorted. “You
might find that I’m the same way.”
“And you might find that you’re not. So what
do you say?”
I leaned against
Orwell and pondered, having another taste of the tea. I didn’t know what
Wernher had planned, but then neither did he have any idea about my plans.
Wherever he wanted to go, I could follow him, and then lose him when it suited
me.
“Okay.”
Wernher clapped
his hands together and beamed. “Wunderbar!”
*
The old stone
skeleton that Wernher called the Tower of London wasn’t what I was expecting. The
name implied some kind of largeness that the real structure simply didn’t have.
I was expecting some massive creation like an enormous arm rising out of the earth,
punching through the dark clouds. The truth was merely four round stony
buildings sticking out from the water at the Big River’s edge like piles of
silt.
“You said the
treasure is in there? You do realize it’s underwater.”
Wernher laughed. “It
used to be in there back before all of this. Your government moved the treasure
when the waters started rising in the Thames. They didn’t want the fancy
property to get swept away with the fish.”
“Where’d they move
them?”
“They scattered
the hoard. Some stayed in London, some didn’t. I happen to know where one is.
Kept safely in plain sight, as you say.” Wernher pointed beyond the Tower of
London. Several ruined husks made up the backdrop, their metal and stone
melting into the gray mists.
“Our treasure’s hidden
on the thirty-sixth floor.”
“How do you know
that? And how do you someone hasn’t already taken it? It’s been a long time.”
“It has, hasn’t
it? Well, let’s make a wager. If the treasure is still in the tower I win, if
someone made off with it in the last century, you win. How about it?
“What do I get if
I win?”
“If you win, you
get to keep all the treasure we find.”
I opened my mouth
to protest, but Wernher burst out laughing.
“A joke,” he said,
struggling to form his words amid a tumble of giggles. “If you win I’ll let you
drive the trike. I’ll even let you look through my wares and see if you’d like
to take anything back to wherever you are going.”
“And if you win?”
“A kiss?”
“Soak off.”
“Don’t worry. Only
joking. Again. No, if I win I’ll be happy enough with our find. I won’t need
any extra reward.” Wernher flashed a sheepish smile. “But you can still kiss me
if you want.”
I grunted and made
sure I still had the mirror shard in my pocket. My mother would keep me safe if
it came down to it.
“The swine is going
to have to stay here, of course,” Wernher said, stopping the trike as close to
the submerged base of the building as he could get. He stepped off the trike
onto the road. “It is a good thing that your government decided to build these
reinforced motorways back in the day. Before then there was nothing but surface
roads that are drowned fifteen meters below us.”
Orwell trotted to
the edge of the motorway and snorted, as if he knew Wernher had been talking
about him.
“How’s your
swimming?” Wernher asked me. He took off his shirt and the weapon pouch affixed
to his belt and tied them up into a tarp bundle, which he strung across his
shoulders.
“Good enough.” I
took my raincoat and stashed it in one of the boxes of Wernher’s trike.
“But not great?”
Wernher narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll manage.” I walked over to Orwell and waited for Wernher to jump into the water. If I timed this right I reasoned that I might be able to take Orwell and the trike and get away from here.
“I’ll manage.” I walked over to Orwell and waited for Wernher to jump into the water. If I timed this right I reasoned that I might be able to take Orwell and the trike and get away from here.
“It wouldn’t be
very gallant of me to let you risk sinking. Why don’t you take my hand and we
will swim over together?”
“I’m fine.”
“But I insist.”
Reluctant, I
extended my hand to Wernher.
“We’ll jump in
three, okay? One. Two. Three!”
My muscles locked
up the second I hit the water. The deep was very cold, even colder than the
main flow of the Big River. A chill ran up my skin to my head. Wernher pulled
me with a grip like iron to the nearest entrance to the building. Slipping and
shivering, I crawled up into the opening as Wernher hoisted himself up behind me.
The inside of the
tower was broken and smashed. Any glass that still looked like glass hung in
yellow shards like angry teeth from the walls. Metal branches stuck out of the
floors and ceilings. Some of the floors had completely collapsed, leaving gaping
holes from which water poured in scattered falls.
Wernher pulled a
small object out of his tarp bundle. There was a click and light shot out like
a tiny fire, its glow bouncing against the wall. “We’re going need to climb the
stairs. Be careful. This place is old and could give way at any moment.”
I
nodded and we made our way to the staircase. Old and could give way at any moment didn’t really describe the
stairs. Ancient and gave way at a moment long ago was probably more apt.
Wernher
scanned the staircase and hissed something under his breath. “We’re going to
have to go slowly. Just take it one stair at a time.”
“Why
don’t we just turn back?”
Wernher
draped his arm over my shoulders. “Come on, we’re already here. Do this for me.
I could be one of the richest traders ever with a find like this. And you could
eat for many lifetimes.”
“Fine,”
I said, removing his arm, “but you can go first.”
“Of
course. That’s what a hero would do isn’t it?” Wernher looked up the spiraling staircase
that had mostly spiraled into the water. “Yeah…”
He
stepped onto one of the metal stairs and then another. The stairs were rusted
by the water and groaned with each step.
“Follow
me. It’s not so bad.”
Cringing,
I placed my weight onto the first step. It was sturdier than I thought, but I
would have to be careful not to slip over the slick surface.
As
we made our way up floor after floor, I felt my eyes spinning, especially
whenever I had the misfortune of looking down. I wanted nothing more than total
silence to concentrate on this mad chore, but Wernher would have none of it.
“What’s your favorite kind of food?” Wernher
asked, jumping across a section of collapsed stair.
I
tried not to lose the food in my stomach as I sized up the gap. “Bread.” Up
until today I would have said mushrooms by default. The fish and frog I’d been
lucky enough to eat had never tasted particularly good. They had swallowed up
too much of the hungry water.
“See?
You’ve gotten something out of our meeting already! My favorite food is schnitzel.” Wernher paused. “It’s a flat piece
of animal meat, breaded and fried. Very good. Not that I can get very much like
that out here. But when I go back home that is going to be one of the first
things that I eat.”
A
groan, a creak, and a crash. All in the space of a breath.
The
next thing I knew Wernher was plummeting through the stairs. I pitched forward
and grabbed his hand, the stairs digging into my arms and knees.
A
trickle of blood ran down the side of Wernher’s face as he dangled from my arms
above the fallen stairs. He rocked back and forth and then finally grabbed hold
of a secure piece of metal and hauled himself back to his feet.
“Thanks
for the save.”
I
nodded, silently cursing myself for missing the opportunity to be rid of him.
Why hadn’t I just let him fall?
Wernher
laughed and clanged his foot against the metal staircase. “I should have known.
The path to the treasure is always filled with danger. One of the first things
you get used to in a job like mine.”
Heart
racing, I was panting, trying to catch my breath.
“Anyway,
as I was saying before the stairs’ rude interruption, you really should come
and visit Österreich some time. It’s a wonderful place. You should see the
great Alps. Truly a splendid sight, especially when the sun plays over the snow
just right, they blaze red like fire.”
“The
Sun?” I asked, gasping. Climbing the stairs felt like a day of running back and
forth between Rol and Oddy’s house.
Wernher
seemed startled for a moment, and then he regained his composure. “Yes, the
climate is a bit different than England’s. Sometimes we have clearer days.
Well, enough of that, we’re here.”
I
looked out at the floor around us. It looked the same as all the other floors.
“How do you know?”
“I
counted. We started out on the fifth floor. Four floors were beneath the water
line. We’ve climbed thirty floors since. Thus, the thirty-sixth floor.
According to the stories, of course.” He grinned. “That last bit was a joke.”
He
led the way through a maze of nearly collapsed hallways. More sticks of metal
protruded from the walls and there was a strong smell of rot. A layer of slime
that had not quite become mud covered the floor. “I committed all of this to
memory based on the old maps.”
“And
how did you get these maps?”
“Well,
let’s just say that one of my ancestors was involved in moving the treasure.”
“You keep saying
it’s a treasure, but what kind of treasure?”
“One of the
artifacts called the Crown Jewels.”
“Crown? Isn’t that
something for kings or queens?”
Wernher frowned,
and when he spoke there was a growl in his voice. “And what? Do you see a king
or queen around? What about a prince or a princess? The monarchs are dead and their
bones are left for the taking.”
Wernher paled and
looked at the ground. “Sorry. I don’t know why I got angry.” He tried to smile.
“Must have been that little brush with death back there.”
My fingertips
brushed against the mirror shard.
Wernher stopped
dead. “This is it!” There was not a little excitement in his voice as he
pointed his light toward a black square on the ground. “This is the chest where
our treasure has been kept.”
He
mumbled something to himself then fiddled with some rolling switches on the
black square. It was amazing they still worked even after all these years.
“It’s
a very high quality safe,” Wernher explained. “That’s what they called these
kinds of chests. They were built so no one could steal them or what was
inside.”
There
was a click and Wernher stopped moving. He ran his fingers toward a small
handle and pulled. At first nothing, and then part of the black square popped
up from the floor and fell to the side on a hinge. In a flash, Wernher shone
his light into the secret compartment. He gasped.
“What
is it?” I took a step closer and peered in, and the Sun blazed out at me.
