Krampus: The Three Sisters (The Krampus Chronicles Book 1) (30 page)

“What does that have to do with anything?” Henry snapped. He grimaced in pain as his arms, including his injured one, were now completely wrapped around Catharine’s waist as she continued to scream at the Garrisons.

“My dear, Mr. Livingston, it’s the sole reason your father was able to live,” Castriot sneered. “Once Clement Clarke Moore realized what had happened to Catharine and Margaret, he knew we would come after Sidney and the Livingstons if it were discovered that they knew of Poppel’s existence. But as it were, Clement Clarke Moore took credit for the poem, making it highly unlikely that we would come to know the truth. At least until all of you arrived tonight.”

Maggie slid down the mezzanine wall as her legs suddenly became weak. It had never even crossed her mind that Grandfather Clement’s actions had been to protect the Livingstons.

“But then why didn’t you kill Clement Clarke Moore, too?” Henry asked.

“Mr. Moore’s death would have been too heavily profiled. We didn’t want to risk the attention. And we had no interest in harming any other family members who were unaware of Poppel,” Castriot explained, and then added slyly. “But now since all of you know about it, this changes matters.”

Catharine stopped moving about in Henry’s arms; once again becoming aware of the muskets pointed their direction.

“Francis has told me of some other important secrets,” Castriot said, gesturing to Francis who no longer looked as confident as he had earlier. “He shared in great detail the existence of some hidden tunnels belonging to the Foundlings that the Garrisons are now infiltrating. And more importantly, he informed us about the location of the true Horologe.”

Francis’ face was white and he looked down at the floor. He didn’t resemble the same arrogant boy Maggie could imagine running to the closest authority figure, eager to share his important news. Instead he appeared trapped and afraid. She watched as Francis stepped back into the shadows behind the columns.

Castriot didn’t notice Francis slink away as a crowd emerged through the doors. Armed Garrisons roughly escorted Clemmie, Albers, Nellie, Lloyd, Harriet, Wendell, and a dozen other Foundlings into the banquet hall. Madame Welles, Hostrupp, and Houten were also in the group.

Maggie was relieved that Louis hadn’t been caught. But her stomach sunk when a Garrison walked in carrying the Horologe, stripped right off the wall in Kleren.

“Ward!” Wendell sobbed, spotting the dead Foundling.

But as Wendell and the other Foundlings sniffled back their tears at the sight of Ward’s body, Cockrell presented the Horologe to Castriot.

“A Foundling was also carrying the Sister Wheel,” Cockrell gruffly said. He bowed his heavy body as low as it would go and held out his chubby hand with the final Sister Wheel gleaming under the chandelier’s light.

Castriot’s eyes lit up. “At last!”

The Horologe was placed down on the table in front of Castriot who didn’t hesitate to open the clock’s face, exposing its rotating gears. Castriot reached in his pocket and pulled out the Sister Wheel given to him by Francis, so he was now holding a wheel in each hand. He set one wheel down in the Horologe, not aware that he still needed the key to truly unite all three.

Maggie gripped the key tucked away in her pocket. It was still there this time.

“Finally, the Garrisons have control of the Sister Wheels,” Castriot announced and then tossed the third wheel to Cyrus. “Dispose of that one. Melt it down and destroy it. Then the possibility of St. Nicholas returning is gone forever.”

Cyrus gleefully took the wheel and started toward the mezzanine steps.

“With just the two wheels, we will be able to further extend our time in Poppel,” Castriot explained. “Unfortunately, none of you will be here to take advantage of it.”

Castriot nodded to the Garrisons who tightened their grips on the muskets and aimed for the captives crammed in the middle of the hall. But before they could shoot, the chandelier came shrieking down from the ceiling before crashing against the floor, striking near Castriot and sending shattered glass soaring across the room.

Amidst the chaos, Maggie spotted Francis in the darkened corner standing next to a dangling rope. It was clear he had been the one to loosen the line, causing the chandelier to drop. But she lost sight of her cousin as Cyrus came bounding up the stairs right in front of her hiding place.

McNutt jumped out from the darkness and tackled Cyrus, slamming his body to the ground. But nobody in the banquet hall noticed McNutt as they dealt with the shift caused by the chandelier. The Foundlings wasted no time in turning their aggression onto the Garrisons. This took the Garrisons by surprise, making their guns useless as the Foundlings attacked.

While McNutt and Cyrus struggled up on the mezzanine, Louis, Violet, Gardiner and Gertrude snuck out from behind the maroon curtain.

Louis and the twins immediately went to help Catharine and Clemmie who were trying to strip Garrisons of their weapons. But as Clemmie pushed around the plump Cockrell and Catharine tangled with Cabell, Violet crept across the banquet hall, dodging between people and tables until she reached the unguarded Horologe. Under the nose of Castriot, who was distracted by those protecting him from the ambush, Violet grabbed the Horologe with both of her arms, clutched it to her chest and scurried away. Violet was almost up the mezzanine before Castriot noticed what had happened.

“The Horologe!” he shouted, trying to get his men’s attention. “After it!”

Violet ran toward the Krog’s stairs with Maggie following just as McNutt was able to pry the Sister Wheel out of the hand of the badly beaten Cyrus. McNutt quickly got up and bolted after Maggie and Violet.

“Where are you going?” Maggie called to Violet as they entered the Krog, which smelled strongly of liquor and smoke.

But as Violet dashed up one last set of stairs behind the bar in the Krog, Maggie realized the answer.

Violet was leaving Poppel.

he morning’s pale light poured into the Krog as Violet burst through its door that led to the outside. The sun had yet to rise, but Maggie’s eyes still struggled to adjust to the bright air as she stepped through the doorway. Squinting around at the surroundings, it soon became clear she was in a rural part of Manhattan. Small wooden houses were scattered along dirt roads while a cemetery stood in the distance. There also was an old stone church that happened to contain the secret Poppel entrance from which Maggie and Violet emerged.

An older black man had been walking up the road, but froze when he saw Violet running out of the church’s back door, clutching a clock half her size. He watched as Maggie came chasing after her with a young redheaded man bounding behind.

“I have it!” McNutt choked out. “I have it.”

“Toss it!” Maggie shouted to McNutt as Violet set the Horologe onto the dirt road.

McNutt flung the small wheel through the air and Maggie effortlessly caught it. But just as she was about to open the Horologe, a pack of Garrisons stormed through Poppel’s door. The last ones slammed the door shut before barricading it with their bodies, preventing the Foundlings and Van Cortlandt descendants from escaping.

When the old man saw the army of black-coated men explode from the church, he turned on his heels and hobbled down the empty road.

Maggie inserted the last Sister Wheel into the Horologe and tightened the three wheels with the key. Apprehensively, Castriot and the Garrisons watched, waiting to see what would happen.

But nothing changed.

Castriot let out a hoarse laugh. “Where is your great Nikolaos of Myra?”

The rest of the Garrisons cackled with relief as they began closing in on McNutt, Maggie, and Violet. Meanwhile, the other Garrisons were holding back those still in Poppel. The pounding of hands vibrated on the inside of the church door.

“Now then,” Castriot said, marching forward. “Hand over the Horologe.”

Violet picked up the Horologe and pressed it to her body while Maggie defensively stepped in front of the young girl.

“You have no business attacking these children,” McNutt shouted to the Garrisons. “If anything, you should be pleased they were able to collect the Sister Wheels.”

“Why, yes, very pleased indeed.” Castriot took out his revolver and without hesitation shot McNutt in the left leg.

Violet muffled a scream. Maggie was also horrified to see McNutt collapse to the ground, gripping his lower leg as he groaned in agony.

“You’ve been helping these intruders,” Castriot emotionlessly said, walking slowly toward McNutt. “That kind of disloyalty will not be tolerated.”

Castriot raised his revolver again, but before he could take another shot, a bullet whizzed through the air, striking his fingers and embedding itself in the church wall. Castriot dropped his gun and grabbed his bloodied hand with a painful yell. Falling to his knees, Castriot looked toward the dirt road that the old man had retreated down just moments earlier. The road was no longer empty as twenty black men and women, a few armed with rifled muskets, stood ready to fight.

“You shot the church, Nat!” one of them called out to the man holding the sizzling musket.

Nat lowered the barrel of the gun and glared at the Garrisons. “I don’t know who you all are, but there’s to be no harming of these here children in Seneca Village. You understand?”

Seneca Village.

Maggie had heard Thomas and the other Chelsea Manor servants mention it before. It was an entirely black village in the northern part of the city where former slaves had purchased their own land.

Castriot’s face burned red as he gripped his wounded hand. And seeing that his assailants were landowning blacks seemed to only escalate his fury. Cyrus and Comstock immediately came to their leader’s side, but he brushed them off and shouted, “Attack them!”

The Garrisons, who were armed with revolvers, started toward the villagers just as the Foundlings finally broke through the church door.

Cyrus and Comstock, however, were more interested in the Horologe and locked their eyes on Violet. As they began approaching the young girl, Maggie seized the Horologe from Violet and shoved the young girl to the side. Maggie wrapped the Horologe tightly in her arms and ran down the deserted road. Cyrus and Comstock aggressively followed. With the weight of the Horologe slowing her down, Maggie worried that the Garrisons would catch her in no time.

But in the mist up ahead, Maggie spotted peculiar shadows. As she kept running, these shadows transformed into solid images within the cloudy distance. Dozens of these figures were quickly approaching as yellow lights bounced above the ground. Maggie soon realized the lights belonged to the eyes of a stampede of deer.

But something more startling than the charging deer caused Maggie to freeze, even as Cyrus and Comstock drew nearer. Among the deer were nearly twenty men on horses; foggy silver figures that Maggie at first thought were illusions. Most of the men were bald and wore old robes with thick collars. They did not carry any weapons, but rode their horses with such confidence and force that they might as well have been covered in the heaviest armor.

The Horologe ticked away in Maggie’s arms, as she stayed planted in the middle of the road. Cyrus and Comstock stopped a few feet behind her. After noticing the stampede of deer and horses headed in their direction, the Garrisons spun around and dashed back to the church. But it wasn’t long before the storm of deer and silver horsemen caught up.