Read Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) Online
Authors: Sonia Halbach
Albers, Wesseling, and the others quickly jumped down from the steamboat and surrounded Francis on the dock. Henry, Catharine, McNutt, and Maggie were still on the deck with Boe and Captain Noble who had quietly slipped out of the wheelhouse to see what the commotion was about.
“How can we trust you?” Albers asked.
“I have more power here in Poppel than you could even imagine,” Francis said, crossing his arms and raising his shoulders proudly. “I know you’re seeking the Horologe and I am one of the few who know its location. What other choice do you have but to trust me?”
“Well, we could always just toss you below in the hull like a bag of potatoes,” Wesseling said, aggressively bumping his chest against Francis’ body. “As it so happens, we have our own Garrison here to take us to the Horologe.”
Wesseling looked toward McNutt, expectantly. But McNutt’s face flushed.
“I don’t know its location,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It’s classified. Only a few Garrisons know.”
The confidence Francis already contained was only magnified by this confession.
“Ah, interesting,” Francis said, smiling boldly. He lightly pushed Wesseling with the tip of his finger, causing the blond man to take a step back. “Now we should be on our way.”
Albers and Wesseling decided to come with Francis, Maggie, Catharine, and Henry as they searched for the Horologe. Albers wasn’t eager to put his trust in Francis while Henry certainly didn’t care for the boy. And even Catharine seemed to have her doubts. But Maggie knew that Francis was their best chance at finding the Horologe.
The other Furnace Brook men were ordered to stay out of sight in the meantime.
As the group walked through the underground passages, it dawned on Maggie that they still didn’t have the other two Sister Wheels in their possession. One was already in the Horologe and the other had been left with the Foundlings that had stayed behind.
“We have to find everyone else,” Maggie whispered to Catharine and Henry.
“What was that?” asked Francis, who was walking a few steps ahead of them.
“We’ll search for the others later,” Henry whispered back. “It will be much easier for them to find us than it will be to locate the Horologe.”
“What’s with all the whispering?” Francis spun around. His voice rose in annoyance. “And what about the Horologe?”
Maggie was unsure of where they currently were within Poppel. They were passing through slender halls and stairways with no sign of Myra Lane, Boeken Kamer, Foundling Row or the banquet hall. It seemed Francis was leading them deeper into the ground, lower than even the Sleigh Pit and workshop. Maggie thought of the Kelder and wondered if they were close to it.
“Where are we?” Maggie asked.
Francis smirked. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
“Yes, but to
where
, Francie?” Maggie said, using his hated childhood nickname.
Francis narrowed his eyes and swiftly turned back around. Not saying another word, he marched further down the hall.
“Probably not best to antagonize him,” Catharine whispered to Maggie.
Finally, Francis and the group came to a dead end. Or at least that’s what they thought. The oil lamp hanging on the wall gave off a soft glow, so they didn’t immediately notice a door in the corner, blending perfectly into the wall.
“Here we are,” Francis announced. He opened the door with one hand and gestured to Maggie with the other.
“After you,” Francis said, directing her through the ominous doorway with a sly grin.
he inscription
Horologe Hall
was carved into one of the many large columns of the underground hall. The size and splendor of the space caught Maggie by surprise, but she didn’t dare speak. It would have been impossible to even whisper without the words being echoed throughout the two rows of columns dividing the three vaulted aisles of the hall.
Francis led Maggie and the group down the center aisle. Albers and Wesseling carefully trailed behind. Francis strutted along with his head held high while a clock mightily ticked away in the distance. But just as they were halfway down the aisle, Francis stopped and motioned for the others to do so as well.
As Maggie watched to see what Francis would do next, a pack of Garrisons exploded into the hall from where they had just entered. Maggie recognized Comstock, Cyrus, Cabell, Crowther, Calhoun, and Crofoot as well a dozen others. A few held rifled muskets while the others had swords drawn. The Garrisons staggered into position, stationing themselves throughout the hall.
There was no escaping.
Finally, Castriot stormed into the hall, carrying nothing but an overly stretched smile. Maggie almost shook with anger when she spotted McNutt walking behind the Head Garrison.
“Most impressive, Francis Casimier,” Castriot boomed. “You have done what was once believed to be unthinkable, you have gathered the Sister Wheels. Or at least, those who carry them.”
Maggie looked over to Francis. He stoically avoided his cousin’s stare. His expression was hard to read, so Maggie couldn’t tell if he had intentionally led them into a trap.
“McNutt was kind enough to alert us of your recent arrival on the steamboat and reported that Francis was leading you to the Horologe Hall,” Castriot continued.
Maggie now understood. Francis had been honest, even though Castriot thought he had been acting on behalf of the Garrisons. As predicted, McNutt was the one who betrayed them.
“Now,” Castriot said, stepping forward. “Hand over the Sister Wheel.”
The Garrisons inched toward the group, their muskets remaining steadily positioned.
“We don’t have it,” Henry lied.
Castriot looked back at McNutt.
“I checked his clothes on the steamboat. He doesn’t have it,” McNutt stated. He then nodded to Catharine. “Search her.”
One Garrison with a musket and another holding a sword advanced on Catharine. She resisted at first, gripping tightly the side pocket of her dress that held the Sister Wheel.
Castriot had yet to mention anything about the Horologe key, and Maggie was starting to think he didn’t know about it.
“Give it to them,” Maggie instructed just as one Garrison raised his sword in the air near Catharine. Maggie made eye contact with her sister. With a reassuring look, Maggie repeated, “Give them the wheel.”
Catharine hesitantly pulled the Sister Wheel out of her pocket. With one final act of defiance, she tossed it on the floor a few feet from Castriot. Cyrus quickly scooped the wheel up and handed it over to the Head Garrison.
Holding the wheel up and slowly rotating it between his thumb and pointer finger, Castriot examined its round edges.
“Perfect,” he muttered. “Now we only have one left to find. Francis told me he saw Clemmie pick it up back at Chelsea Manor before coming here. Clemmie no doubt is hiding away with the Foundlings. But I’m sure if he thought his sisters and cousins were in danger, he would happily surrender it. What a gallant and final gesture on his part.”
The group fell silent, realizing the Garrisons were not going to let them go peacefully once all three Sister Wheels were collected. But Maggie still noticed the Garrisons seemed unaware a key was needed to fully unite the wheels.
Maggie slowly placed her arms down at her sides. Her right hand brushed against the outside of the pocket, searching for the hard key.
Nothing.
Her left hand felt around on her other side for the key.
Again nothing.
Somewhere between the steamboat and the Horologe Hall, the key had disappeared.
A wave of anxiety rushed through Maggie’s body, but she tried not to let it show. Castriot was no longer interested in the Moore grandchildren as he approached the Horologe with the Sister Wheel in hand. The other armed Garrisons directed the intruders to follow until they reached the end where an extravagant bronze clock was mounted on the high stone wall.
Cyrus scurried up a metal ladder leaning against the wall and opened the clock’s large face, revealing an intricate display of gears and wheels, rotating and clicking away. Comstock took the Sister Wheel from Castriot and passed it up to Cyrus who attempted to place it in one of the spaces within the turning gears. But he soon saw that it didn’t fit. Cyrus studied the Sister Wheel and then the clock, realizing the wheel was too small.
A second later, the golden wheel came soaring between the heads of Catharine and Henry before slamming into Francis’ black-coated chest. The wheel rattled noisily as it finally hit the ground.
“It’s a fake!” Cyrus shouted. “It doesn’t match the other Sister Wheel.”
Castriot tore around, glaring at the Van Cortlandt descendants. He glided toward them like a snake pursuing its prey. Before Castriot could strike, however, the entrance door at the other end of the hall burst open once again. Maggie’s heart jumped thinking it was more Garrisons, but it turned out to be the Furnace Brook men, led by an ever jubilant Boe who was swinging a spade wildly around. The Garrisons didn’t even have time to mount their muskets before the Furnace Brook men collided violently with them.
Maggie’s body was jerked sideways as Henry pulled her toward the door. Catharine and Francis were already far ahead, escorted by Ward and Harriet. The Foundlings had snuck in behind the Furnace Brook men who were staying behind in the Horologe Hall, making sure the Garrisons didn’t follow the Van Cortlandt descendants.
Clemmie and Louis were waiting in the doorway. Maggie was so happy to see that they were unharmed that she ran up and wrapped her arms around Louis. But the embrace was short-lived.
“We have to get back to the tunnels,” Clemmie directed, starting down the hallway.
“What happened since we left?” Maggie asked.
“Castriot knew we had been hiding all of you,” Harriet said. “He started locking Foundlings up in the Kelder and even tortured some for information.”
“Gardiner and Gertrude…” Catharine trailed off.
Harriet shook her head. “The twins are unharmed. They were the first to be hidden away. Although the Foundlings fought back, we were no match against the Garrisons.”
“By the time Clemmie, Louis, and I returned from Sylvan Terrace, all the Foundlings had retreated to the tunnels,” Ward added. “It’s the only place the Garrisons didn’t know how to reach us.”
Ward stopped in the middle of the corridor. After quickly glancing around, he reached up to one of the oil lamps and pulled it down. An opening in the wall appeared and the group slipped inside the tunnel where they were met with a floating light.
It was Lloyd.
“Follow me,” he whispered, holding a candle up to his face where the light reflected in his glasses. He turned and clambered up a flight of steps.
No one spoke as they maneuvered through the winding passage. When Lloyd finally stopped walking, Maggie recognized they were under the Kleren shop. One by one they climbed into the backroom where Hostrupp and Madame Welles were waiting.
“Where is the Sister Wheel and key?” Madame Welles immediately asked.
Henry explained how the Garrisons deemed it to be a fake since it hadn’t fit in the Horologe.
“Where is it now?” Madame Welles’ eyes scanned the Van Cortlandt descendants.