The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(45)
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s all right. I was not surprised, really. I know my family isn’t as rich as some, and I’m certainly not as handsome as . . . well, as your brother, for one. Girls seem to like him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll be even more insufferable than he already is.”
“I must say, Agnes, I’m quite relieved. You are not at all what I thought you would be like.”
“And what was that?”
He cocked his head and thought for a moment. “I imagined something along the lines of an overbearing headmistress.”
“The horror,” she said, grinning. “I only dress like one.”
Ebenezer let out a loud laugh. “You have the sharpest tongue of any girl I have ever met.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Or maybe it is just that none of the other girls are brave enough to use theirs.”
He looked surprised. “I never thought of it like that.”
Of course you haven’t.
“Would you like some more tea?” he asked.
“Thank you,” she said, picking up her cup and holding it out.
“Have you seen the papers today?” he asked as he poured. “There’s a whole to-do over—”
“Do you have a paper?” Agnes interrupted. Why hadn’t she thought to ask him before? “My father took ours, and I’ve only heard bits and pieces from my chauffeur.”
“Yes, I was just reading it when you arrived.” Ebenezer pulled a folded newspaper out from where he’d stuffed it behind the throw pillow and handed it to her.
ANCIENT RUINS DISCOVERED! the front of the Old Port Telegraph screamed. And underneath, in smaller lettering, Could buried treasure await on this remote Pelagan island? Agnes put her cup down on the table and gripped the paper with both hands.
Famed Kaolin sea captain Wendell Rivington and his crew were making their way home after a long journey to the very eastern islands of Pelago when a storm blew their ship off course. For five days they steered through the fog-covered waters, uncertainty plaguing them at every turn. On the sixth day the fog lifted, revealing the island of Braxos, one of what the Pelagans call the Lost Islands due to the dense fog that hides them from view.
Captain Rivington and his crew had to use all their skill not to run aground, and as they passed the island they saw the ruins of an ancient fortress, guarded with doors of gleaming metal adorned with strange markings. Gemstones in magnificent colors sparkled underneath the water, leading the men to cast nets down in the hopes of culling them from the seabed. Seaman Harry Withers, an amateur photographer, managed to snap a photograph of the ruins (seen here) before the fog swallowed Braxos up again and the ship was forced to turn away and head for safer waters.
How long have the ruins sat, untouched, on this remote island? What mysteries lie waiting behind those doors? What caused the surrounding waters to be filled with gemstones? And, most importantly, who will be the first to explore this elusive discovery and claim its riches for their own?
“It was all Gerald and Louis could talk about at breakfast,” Ebenezer said. “I think Louis has forgotten he cannot swim.” He chuckled at his own joke, but Agnes wasn’t listening. She was staring at the grainy black-and-white photograph. The ruins were enormous, poised on a cliff jutting out high above the whitecapped waves. They rose to a lofty point with towers curling out from all sides like stone snakes. The doors were clearly visible, shining with a white light.
And perched atop them was a symbol that set Agnes’s heart thrumming in her chest.
“Do you have a magnifying glass?” she demanded.
“I think there’s one in the secretary,” Ebenezer said, taken aback by her intensity. He went to the tall rosewood structure by the door and rifled through one of the lower desk drawers. “Here you go.”
The magnifying glass had a polished ebony handle and was well cleaned. She held it up to the photograph.
A star stared back at her, a star with varying points, none of which were the same size or height. A star that looked shockingly similar to the one she’d seen hanging from the neck of a silver girl with blue hair.
It was the star from Sera’s necklace.
18
Leo
LEO WATCHED WITH GROWING DISCOMFORT AS KIERNAN dragged the girl’s limp form out of the crate.
As thrilling as the conversation with his father had been the previous evening, reality was setting in now. He was being included, at long last, but for what? Leo had wanted to run a theater company. He had dreamed of it his whole life. He’d thought when he volunteered for the expedition that in return he might get to assist the director or have a small role himself. He’d thought he would learn the ins and outs of the theater, what went on backstage during a play, and maybe flirt with the costume mistress. And then eventually he would take over his father’s position and choose playwrights and help with casting and do whatever else it was Xavier did to keep the business running. But there wouldn’t be a theater company for much longer, and Leo did not know how to feel about these stolen creatures from Pelago or the girl he had captured, or his role in all this.
She was still wearing the same filthy dress. The first thing Kiernan did was remove her bracelets and necklace.
“My, my, my,” he said, holding the star-shaped pendant up to the light. “I have never seen a stone like this before, and my aunt was a jeweler. Whoever this girl is, she isn’t from Pelago.”