More Than You Know (31 page)

"The last of the Waterstones was killed for the riddle."

"Then it's greed that killed him. One more facet of human nature, not a curse. I wish I hadn't mentioned Mercutio. Clearly you took it to heart."

Claire bent her head and said in a rush, “I want to find the treasure."

Rand yanked on his boot. “So do I."

"And end the curse,” she finished.

His head swiveled and he stared at her. “Didn't you hear anything I said?"

"All of it. And I want to believe you're right.” Claire spread the skirt of her gown across her legs and pressed out the wrinkles with her palms. “But we're on Pulotu now, and there's no evidence that anyone's been here before us. There will be a reasonable explanation, just as there is for why nothing grows around the tikis, but I also know that hearing it will give me small comfort. I know you have respect for the religion of these islands. What you don't respect is that it can affect you.” Claire turned her back so that Rand could fasten the buttons on her gown. “I don't mind if you humor me in this,” she told him. “Does it matter that we want to find the treasure for different reasons? In the end we'll both have what we want, just like in the nursery rhyme:
Reunited, freed of curse; Thy reward the richest purse."

Rand was silent, weighing her words carefully. Claire was right that he respected the beliefs of the Sun Islanders. She hadn't said that he considered his thinking superior to theirs but it was what lay between her words. He was searching for a fortune. She wanted peace of mind. What did their differences matter indeed? Finally he said, “I don't know that rhyme."

Recognizing that Rand was not going to expend more effort in convincing her she was wrong, Claire released a breath slowly. The corners of her mouth lifted in a tentative smile. When he finished buttoning her gown, she turned and gave him a glimpse of its rare beauty. “Didn't Elizabeth read to you from Mother Goose?” she asked.

"I thought she did,” he said. “I just don't know that one."

"My mother had a particular fondness for it. I've mentioned it before, when we first spoke of the tikis. There are seven sisters in it also."

"Then I know I've never heard it. I would recall that."

"But I
did
recite part of it to you. Remember? On the ship. After you taught me your riddle.
With the sisters, this verse brings; Wealth beyond the dreams of kings."

"I thought it had something to do with Humpty Dumpty."

Claire laughed. “You
are
confused. Listen:

At the end of one God's promise

Stand seven pagan sentinels

Seven rings but just one key

Silver, tin, and mercury

Iron bracelet, leaden chain

Treasure lost, treasure gained

Copper circlet, crown of gold

Seven sisters flee the fold

Reunited, freed of curse

Thy reward, the richest purse

Seven rings but just one key

Metals all of alchemy

With the sisters, this verse brings

Rand finished the verse, his voice trailing off at the end.
"Wealth beyond the dreams of kings."

Claire heard the change in his tone and she felt his silence keenly. “Rand? What is it? Have you heard it before after all?"

"Never,” he said, stunned. “Never once."

"Then what—” She stopped as Rand's fingers closed tightly around her upper arms. He gave her a little shake. His rough urgency surprised Claire. Her mouth snapped shut.

"Claire. Tell it to me again. All of it."

She blinked. He was rising and hauling her to her feet in front of him. He let her go long enough to pull on his other boot; then he was taking her arm and yanking her through the undergrowth toward the open beach.

"Again,” he said.

Claire's recitation was somewhat breathless this time. She finished just as they made the clearing. Her heels dug into the sand to stop Rand's forward progress. He picked her up. Claire rebelled at the thought of being thrown over his shoulder. She started to struggle, but then his lips were on hers, first at the corner of her mouth, then across it. He kissed her brow, her temple, the tip of her nose. He pressed his lips to her closed eyes and then touched the crown of her hair. Rand set her down slowly. She was flush to his lean frame, and in the end she simply leaned against him.

"Goodness,” she said, catching her breath.

Rand hugged her. “The very essence of it."

Claire couldn't quite tell if he was serious. She raised her face and let him see her skepticism. “You may as well tell me what this has all been in aid of. I'm certain I don't understand."

Rand held her from him briefly. “You really don't, do you?"

Claire's mouth flattened. “There's no particular pleasure in the admission,” she said. “You needn't emphasize it."

He laughed. “God, I love you."

"I should hope so.” The line of her mouth softened a little.

Rand kissed her again, then looped his arm in hers. He didn't have to urge her to begin walking back to the encampment. “It's the verse,” he told her. “It's not one from your cherished Mother Goose."

"Of course it is. You may not recognize it, but my mother read it to me with all the others."

"I'm beginning to think your mother was infinitely more clever than anyone has credited. She gave you the Waterstone riddle in a way you could hear it. She put it in your safekeeping years ago and counted on time and circumstance to unravel it."

Claire pulled Rand up short again. “That can't be right,” she said. “Why would she do that? More to the point:
how
could she? My mother was not a Waterstone. I know my family tree. There's not a Waterstone twig anywhere on it."

"I didn't think there was. But I wonder how well you know your godfather's family."

"Stickle?"

"Unless you have another godfather."

Claire did not take him to task for his gentle mocking. Her mind was spinning in another direction. “The paper I found in the duke's manuscript ... the one with the holes ... then it really was the Waterstone riddle."

"So it seems,” Rand said. “The Duke of Strickland is either descended from Waterstones or he had the last one killed to take the riddle for himself."

"Stickle is not a murderer."

Rand was not going to argue that point. Claire knew the truth no better than he, but her view was more palatable. He could let her keep it until they learned otherwise. “Then he's a Waterstone,” said Rand. “And he's kept his head by keeping the secret."

"He must have told my mother.” Claire's voice shook slightly. “To have shared this secret with her ... to have trusted her ... I only imagined I understood how much he loved her."

Rand supposed that was one interpretation of events. He did not explain to Claire that there could be others. He took her arm again. “Come. I want to get back. You shouldn't repeat the riddle to anyone, Claire, now that you know it for what it is. You can teach it to me later. I'll take you with me when I go back to look at the tikis."

She nodded. “Why didn't I understand sooner?"

"Why should you? Your mother had her own version of hiding the riddle in plain sight. A very clever woman, your mother.” He shook his head, his smile admiring, then laughed outright. “Mother Goose. It was inspired."

"That rhyme made as much sense as any of the others,” Claire said. “Ring around the rosie is about the plague. Did you know that?"

"I'd heard."

"And London Bridge
was
falling down before it was rebuilt."

"What about Humpty Dumpty?"

Claire laughed. “You like that one, don't you?"

He shrugged. “I just remember all the words."

"I think it's a reference to King Richard III."

Rand thought about that. “I like them all better as nonsense."

Claire squeezed his arm. “So do I."

The men were just rising as Claire and Rand approached. They stumbled, sleepy-eyed and shaggy-headed, to their feet and wandered off to see to their personal needs. Rand was aware of Macauley's pointed stare in their direction but couldn't say if his expression was disapproving or envious. Wisely the doctor kept his own counsel.

Cutch came ashore with a small crew as they were sitting down to eat. He didn't deny he had watched through the scope until the fresh fish was smoking in the pit before he headed out. No one denied him the opportunity to enjoy their labors.

Rand finished his breakfast and leaned back in the sand on his elbows. “Claire is going with me to look at the tikis.” No one save Macauley Stuart seemed to find anything odd about this statement. “I'll need two men to assist us. Volunteers."

A number of heads lifted, including the doctor's. Rand chose Whittier and Brown. “It will take the better part of the morning. The rest of you should explore along the shore again and into the forest. Cutch will direct you.” He turned to his second in command. “I haven't heard a report. I take it to mean you found nothing during your tour around the island."

Cutch nodded slowly. “There's no other camp on Pulotu. We looked for more tikis, but these seven are the only ones we could find."

"Ideas?"

"We should explore the islands closest to this one first. Even the atolls. Inhabitants of the other islands may be able to tell us something and shorten our search."

"Very well.” Rand jumped fluidly to his feet. “We'll plot our course this evening on
Cerberus.
Brown, you and Whittier organize our supplies. We'll need a sling and harness for Claire. She can't climb without assistance."

Claire also knew she couldn't climb in a dress. She disappeared into her tent and when she stepped out again she was wearing clothing that Cutch had packed for Rand. Nothing fit properly. Claire made do by rolling up the sleeves and trouser legs and cinching a belt tightly around her waist. “Well?” she asked a shade defiantly. She spoke to the men at large. “Your silence is hardly flattering."

Rand's gaze took her in head to foot. “We're all rendered speechless,” he said dryly. “You might have warned us."

Claire counted off six paces from the tent and dropped herself in the sand at Rand's side. She crossed her legs tailor-fashion and began plaiting her hair. “You have to agree this is more practical for scaling rocks."

Rand's tone was doubtful. “Well, if I
have
to agree..."

Macauley Stuart spoke up. “She's really not going to wear trousers, is she?"

Rand's expression was wryly amused. “Who's going to tell her no? You?"

Stuart's mouth snapped shut.

Claire bent her head so her smug smile was not so clearly in evidence. She continued to work on her braid while Rand finished planning their trek. No one questioned why Rand wanted to study the tikis a second time. Every man, including Macauley Stuart, shared a sense of anticipation in regard to the treasure. The seven tikis seemed significant in the search as nothing else had. Even if it was proved later that they were only misdirection, no one believed they should dismiss this opportunity out of hand.

Rand used a stick to draw seven furrows in the sand. Each furrow represented a different elevation and corresponded to the height of the tikis on Mauna Puka. Cutch placed one shell on each line to represent a tiki.

Claire had been following the discussion, trying to visualize the map Rand was laying out in the sand. She tilted her head toward him when he fell silent. “What is it?” she asked.

"See for yourself.” He laid the stick he'd been using across her lap. “Connect the shells."

Claire tied off her braid and swung it over her shoulder. She picked up the stick and held out her hand for Rand to direct her. He chose the starting point and guided her carefully from shell to shell until all seven were connected.

Cutch rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Ain't that something.” He looked over his shoulder at the tikis on the foothill. The pattern of the stone carvings was not obvious on the three-dimensional face of the mountain, but on the map Rand and Claire had drawn, it could not have been clearer. “Sure enough, that's the Big Dipper."

Rand was helping Claire retrace the connections so her sense of the map was the same as everyone else's. He gave her full marks for containing her excitement in front of the others. It was only beneath his own hand that he felt the small tremor in hers.

"What do you think it means?” Claire asked.

Rand looked at the men. Cutch was still staring at the map, pondering its importance. Brown, Whittier, and several others were already spending their share of the treasure. Only Macauley Stuart was giving Rand his full attention, and Rand felt it like a tangible force. He shrugged, unwilling to say what he thought of this chance discovery. He took the stick from Claire. “I suppose that's what we should find out."

Macauley glanced at the map; then his gaze swiveled to Claire. “Why should it mean anything?” he asked.

It was Cutch who answered. “It's a Northern constellation,” he said. “Sirius and the Southern Cross are more important in these waters. If the Solonesian priests placed the tikis in this arrangement—” He broke off when he looked up and intercepted the warning in Rand's eyes.