Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

“Ah, there you are. I was worried you became lost on your way down,” Louis quipped before he and Catharine disappeared into the tunnel.

Feeling his pocket to make sure that the emblem was still intact, Clemmie stood up and chased after his sister and cousin.

Lloyd had gone out alone to release three sugarplums near the Sleigh Pit. But when he returned to Snop’s backroom, he brought along a familiar face.

“Harriet,” Maggie exclaimed, recognizing the Foundling.

“Did you release the sugarplums?” Ward asked Lloyd.

Lloyd nodded. “And then I ran into Harriet.” He turned to Harriet. “Tell them what you just told me.”

“The Sister Wheel has been found.”

An audible sigh rippled through the group.

“The missing Sister Wheel appears to be just a rumor started by a couple of drunk Garrisons,” Harriet said. “So Castriot knows that Alfred and Lizzie didn’t take it.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Maggie said.

“Yes, but Castriot also knows you’re hiding,” Harriet stressed. “And he’s placed a crew of Garrisons in the Sleigh Pit to make sure you don’t escape.”

“So if your family comes looking for you,” Lloyd explained. “They’re going to be captured.”

“Catharine and Louis are both smart people. And Clemmie…” Maggie paused and then added. “Well, Clemmie fancies himself as rather brilliant. They won’t come down here alone. Once they realize I’m missing, they’ll wake up the rest of my family. And then Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis can lead everyone down the ash pit.”

“Why didn’t we send the sugarplums to the adults in the first place?” Henry asked.

Ward shook his head. “When a person is older, it’s less likely they’ll believe their dreams. We’re even taking a chance that Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis will figure out the truth. Still, we should prepare as though they did realize what’s happened and that they’re coming through the Sleigh Pit. Alone.”

“What can we do?” Maggie asked.

“Well,” Ward said, shifting into action with the clap of his hands. “The Garrisons won’t guess that Alfred and Lizzie are with me, but the longer Wendell and Lloyd are away, the more suspicious it’ll be. They need to go back to the workshop and say that when the earlier incident happened, Alfred and Lizzie took off and they chased after them.”

It was agreed that while Wendell and Lloyd returned to the workshop, Ward and Harriet would stay with Maggie and Henry to make sure the rest of the family arrived unharmed.

Once Wendell and Lloyd left, Ward went over to a huge wooden crate in the corner that had the word
FLOUR
stenciled diagonally across its side. He reached over the top of the lid and touched around until there was a
click
. Ward then slid its panel open, revealing stone steps within the crate.

Maggie sighed. “I think I’ve gone through enough hidden passages tonight.”

“There’s a series of tunnels that connect all of Poppel. When the Garrisons took over, they went through every inch of this place,” Ward said and then nodded toward the crate’s opening with a smirk. “But they didn’t find these tunnels. So the Foundlings can still get around Poppel without being caught by the Garrisons.”

“And we can get to the Sleigh Pit through here,” Harriet added, joining Ward near the crate.

“Ward!” A crackly voice hollered from the front of the shop.

“It’s Houten,” Ward groaned and then turned to Harriet. “Take them down to the pit. I’ll deal with the old man.”

Harriet nodded and gestured to Maggie and Henry who followed her into the flour crate just as Ward grimly shut the panel behind them.

“We must be getting close,” Louis whispered, peering at the upcoming tunnel.

Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis were huddled in a sleigh as it rolled along the clanking chains. From the rickety sleighs to the oil lamp lit caverns, everything looked exactly as it had in their dreams. But they still weren’t confident about finding Maggie anytime soon.

“Oh, are we, Louis?” Clemmie brushed ash from his shoulder. He had been pretty sour since having his clothes dirtied. “I’d be interested to hear how you can tell. Everything down here looks the same.”

“Well, this can’t go on forever,” stated Catharine, squinting into the darkness.

“It very well may,” grumbled Clemmie. “We could be traveling in a loop. Circumnavigating the entire globe! How would we know?”

There was no chance to answer. As the sleigh entered another lit cavern, a blockade of Garrisons could be seen awaiting their arrival.

“Uh oh,” Louis groaned, recognizing the black coats.

The Garrisons held rifled muskets and upon seeing the occupied sleigh, they perched the guns on their shoulders, pointing them at the intruders.

“Off!” one Garrison shouted.

Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis scurried from the moving sleigh and crouched on their knees with hands raised above their heads.

“More of them, Cockrell,” a slender Garrison with a long nose said. “I’m starting to suspect that they didn’t just accidently wander down here.”

Cockrell, a thick man with barely any neck, stood in the middle of the pack. Gray sideburns curved along his swollen face as he lifted an arm, signaling the Garrisons to put down their firearms.

“Easy, fellas,” Cockrell bellowed as he walked his tree trunk legs toward the Moore grandchildren.

“Are you here for Alfred and Lizzie?”

Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis eyed each other with uncertainty.

“We’re… lost,” Louis said weakly, not daring to mention Maggie’s name.

Clemmie apparently wasn’t thinking along the same lines.

“We’re looking for Maggie,” Clemmie stammered.

Catharine shot him a piercing glare. She also knew it wasn’t a good idea to mention their sister’s name.

“Maggie?” Cockrell grunted. “Who’s Maggie?”

“Our… dog,” Clemmie recovered, realizing his mistake. “Our dog, Maggie. She’s a Norfolk spaniel―about yay high.” Clemmie cautiously moved his wrist to his chest and waved it a couple times.

“Yes, our dog,” Catharine jumped in. “She chased a mouse through a hole in our fireplace. We came down here, but have been unable to locate her. Perhaps you have seen her.”

“Yes, perhaps you have seen her,” Clemmie repeated mechanically. “The dog. The dog named Maggie. Maggie is her name.”

“Mostly white,” Louis added. “With black spots on her back. And big ears.”

Placing hands next to each side of his head, Louis wiggled his fingers like floppy ears.

Cockrell looked back at the other Garrisons who seemed in no hurry to search for a dog.

“So if you could just help us find her, we can be on our way,” Clemmie said, standing up from the ground.

“Enough!” The flab of Cockrell’s face shook angrily. “We’re not looking for any dog. You’re coming with us. There’ll be no more talking until Castriot sees you.”

Three Garrisons grabbed Catharine and Louis and stuffed them in the arriving sleigh while Cockrell and another Garrison took Clemmie into the sleigh behind it.

“Here, Maggie,” Clemmie called halfheartedly with a whistle. “Come on out, girl.”

“Stop that,” Cockrell growled.

As Clemmie finished another high-pitched whistle, the other Garrison smacked his shoulder with the butt of a musket.

“Oomph,” Clemmie moaned, rubbing the bruised muscle.

He remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

Soon Catharine and Louis arrived at the Sleigh Pit with Clemmie’s sleigh following minutes later. The Moore grandchildren were then roughly pulled off the sleighs and lined up between two tunnel entrances.

“Before you’re taken to Castriot, would you like to share the truth about your whereabouts?” Cockrell asked.

There was silence until Louis stuttered, “Who’s Castriot?”

Under his dense nose, Cockrell’s lips curled into a sly smile.

“You will soon find out. And once you have, you will not easily forget.”

Cockrell nodded and the Garrisons grasped the arms of Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis. But suddenly the oil lamps in the Sleigh Pit went out, and like a cloak being thrown over the room, it became completely black. The Garrisons let go of the intruders and instantly clutched their rifled muskets. But it was too dark to shoot.

“What is going on here?” the voice of Cockrell boomed. “Who’s there? What’s happening?”

Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis were clustered together, but then shadowy figures unexpectedly swept through, whisking them away one by one. The grandchildren didn’t make any noise, hoping that whatever had grabbed them was better than the Garrisons.

Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis were led through a passageway and then into a round chamber that emerged out of the darkness. Although it was crowded with half a dozen people, Catharine instantly laid eyes on a brunette girl.

“Maggie!”

“Shh!”

Catharine turned and saw Henry Livingston dressed in a green coat and black hat. He was not only the person who had hushed her but also the one gripping her arms. As the two made eye contact, Henry appeared stunned at the sight of Maggie’s older sister. He didn’t even notice that Ward had let go of Clemmie and Louis.

Maggie’s stomach dropped as she watched how Henry continued to hold Catharine. But her eyes were pulled away as Louis gently grabbed her shoulders.

“Maggie, what happened to you?” Louis asked.

Meanwhile, Catharine was glaring at Henry as he still absentmindedly held her arms. “Release me, Mr. Livingston.”

Henry relaxed his grip and flushed pink. Catharine instantly marched over and wrapped her sister in a hug. “Maggie, are you hurt?”

Harriet stepped forward. “I thought you said your name was Lizzie.” She looked at Henry, adding, “And it’s Alfred, isn’t it?”

The Moore grandchildren and Henry swapped glances.

“Who are you, really?” Ward asked.

Ward had met up with Henry, Maggie, and Harriet right before the other Moore grandchildren arrived. The plan was to sneak Catharine, Clemmie, and Louis into the tunnel located between the piles of broken sleighs in the back of the Sleigh Pit. But when they saw Cockrell and the other Garrisons, they knew they had to make quick adjustments. Maggie and Harriet put out the oil lamps while Henry and Ward snatched the Moore grandchildren.

“We don’t need to say anything until I’m told where we are,” Catharine said, rubbing Maggie’s back protectively.

Maggie explained about following Wendell down the fireplace. She told about Henry getting punched by McNutt and then being captured by the Garrisons before finally becoming new Foundlings. She finished with the sugarplums they had sent to Chelsea Manor. Maggie was sure that of everything discussed, the sugarplums would certainly be the part needing further inquiry. But Catharine was hung up on just one detail of the story.

“What were you doing in Chelsea Manor?” Catharine twisted about to face Henry.

Henry appeared taken aback by Catharine’s attack. But with a reluctant sigh, he repeated what he had told Maggie earlier in the library.

“That’s impossible,” Clemmie said, placing his hands stiffly on his hips. “Clement Clarke Moore not being the rightful author of
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
? I don’t believe it.”

But before Clemmie could debate Henry on the literary merits of Major Henry Livingston and Clement Clarke Moore, Harriet chimed in.

“You’re related to Major Henry and Sidney Livingston?”

Henry nodded.

“And you four are the grandchildren of Clement and Catharine Moore?”

“Yes,” Clemmie replied dully. “So?”

All the Foundlings looked around at each other, making the Chelsea Manor visitors feel as though they were being kept out of an important secret.

“What is it?” Catharine asked, not hiding her frustration.

“What is it? What is it!” a voice crackled from the doorway. “You are the grandchildren of Clement Clarke Moore and Major Henry―both related to the Van Cortlandts, and the keepers of the two remaining Sister Wheels.”

A stout, plump man wobbled into the room; his cane striking the stone floor with each step. Bushy white hair swirled out from underneath his blue top hat while his wrinkled eyes squinted through oval glasses, staring at the Moore grandchildren huddled together.

Ward stepped forward grudgingly. “What are you doing here, Houten?”