The Glass Castle (15 page)

The more she drew, the more she realized how accurate her mother’s stories and songs about the castle had been. Avery had no doubt about her mother spending time in the castle, but when and why remained mysteries to her.

And why didn’t she ever tell me?

How to get to the tunnels in the castle’s underbelly remained another mystery, one she was bent on solving. If she found an entrance to the tunnels, she and the other kids would have a way of escape if they needed one. And with the unpredictability of the castle, it was likely they would need one. If the king died, escape from Angelina might be essential.

None of the doors she had tried on the lower level had yet led to anything helpful.

She was also eager to discover in which rooms Angelina spent most of her time.

Avery had meant every word in the note she had pinned in Angelina’s wedding dress:
You have secrets I will uncover if you do not let us go.

“Now I need to find what they are.”

The queen’s smile when she read the note confirmed everything Avery suspected about her. She was growing more confident by the day that Angelina was responsible for their confinement. Now she had to prove it, understand the reason behind it, and do something about it before the king died and left his evil wife to rule the castle.

Avery scooped up her map and tucked it in the pages of one of her library books. She had one last task to accomplish before everyone else got back from supper.

Taking the copy of
Gulliver’s Travels
from the library, she wrapped it with the cloth the way she had seen her father wrap packages in his shop and carried it with her out into the hall.

She had no time to lose.

Chapter 24

The Visit

Despite the warning on the painting, Avery wanted to find her necklace more than she craved her next breath. She didn’t care about Ilsa’s empty threats—which she suspected they were—she wanted her mother’s necklace back. And she had every reason to suspect Ilsa took it.

And if Ilsa took the necklace, Kate did not. Avery desperately hoped Kate had nothing to do with the missing jewelry.

The weight of the necklace around her neck had been a constant reminder that she belonged to someone. Without it, she felt alone.

She rushed to Ilsa’s room and was pleased to see only one girl inside.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The girl looked up from where she appeared to be writing a letter.

“I’m wondering if you would deliver this book to Kendrick in exchange for a square of chocolate.”

The girl agreed, and once she was gone, Avery snapped into action.

She examined every inch of Ilsa’s space.

She shook the pillow.

She pulled the quilt off Ilsa’s bed.

She felt under the mattress and discovered a nicely carved rosewood box. Hope rose and then fell when she saw that the necklace wasn’t inside. She found something else inside: a stack of formal drawings, edges curling with age.

Conflicted between respecting Ilsa’s property and dying of curiosity, she yielded and flipped through them.

The first showed Ilsa and a group Avery assumed was her family, because Ilsa’s twin brother was there. Edward, as she learned was his name, was rumored to be the best scout and in charge of tracking the king.

The next drawing was of a small stone house.

Avery was about to replace the pages when she caught sight of one of Ilsa in the plain white dress of a country bride and a daisy chain crown—a smile stretching the width of her sun-kissed face. She looked happy.

A new look for her.

Next to her stood a beaming young man Avery could only assume was the groom. She looked closer.
Tuck?

She held the drawing closer and tilted it toward the light.

Surely her eyes were deceiving her.

The picture showed Tuck and Ilsa, arm in arm!

No wonder Ilsa was so possessive of Tuck. If she was betrothed to him, she had every right to be jealous. But why keep their relationship a secret?

Her heart sank.

The next morning while many of the girls still slept, Avery stole away to the tiny chapel.

Light streamed through the stained-glass windows and reflected off the gold-gilded walls, almost as if the room itself knew it was time to worship. The high-back pews were filled with twenty or so kids who appeared happy to be there and pleased that she had joined them.

Avery spotted Kate near the front and hurried to sit beside her. The mousy boy with tousled hair and freckles—the one who had given Kate his hard-won grate for the wedding—shuffled to the pulpit and smiled. “Welcome,” he said.

“We voted him in as chaplain at our last service,” Kate whispered. “We meet here every Sunday.”

Avery wondered how many services they had shared.

The chaplain led them in singing:

He then opened his Bible and began to speak.

His voice was as high-pitched as Kate’s and quavered, yet he seemed wiser than his years or scrawny frame suggested.

“In 1 Corinthians 10:31,” he began, “it says, ‘Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.’ It is our duty as Christians to honor Him. So whether we are scrubbing floors or wearing a crown, we are equal before Him in our mission and duty. The good news is that each of us has the ability to accomplish this task.”

“What did you think?” Kate asked when the service drew to a close.

“I think this chapel is a great place for self-reflection.”

Kate laughed. “Silly Avery. We don’t worship to reflect on ourselves. We worship to reflect on God.”

The mood in the castle shifted.

Lunch became a quiet, gloomy event. Whether it was because the wedding was past and the kids no longer had anything to look forward to or because of something else entirely, Avery didn’t know, but the atmosphere was toxic. Gone were the excited voices and the random laughter. Gone were the bartering and bargaining. Gone were the intense games of chess that kept kids up until the wee hours.

In place of their enthusiasm was a somber awareness that they were prisoners and that winter was coming. Avery had a powerful urge to throw open the windows and allow the sunshine and cool air to rush in and do their healing work—but she knew better.

She was feeling the heaviness, too.

After her morning council meeting, she excused herself to the kitchen, as she often did, where she went deep into the pantry and stopped at the grate over the king’s office. Cranking open the slats, she looked down to see Angelina deep in conversation with a half circle of adults who were taking careful notes.

The king was nowhere to be found.

“For the ceremonial procession, I want horses—hundreds of them—and enough flower petals for seven hundred guests. I want music and soldiers and a new crown. I don’t want to wear the crown of my sister.”

Sister? Why did she say “sister”?

“Nothing must stop my coronation!” Angelina continued.

“I must be crowned in front of everyone so it is official. I will not be robbed of my legitimate claim to the crown. Do you all understand?”

The half circle grunted their support, and the meeting concluded.

Everyone, including Angelina, left the room.

Avery waited. She knew what would happen next—

A moment later the door opened again and a scout scurried in, removed a stack of papers from the desk, and replaced it with a stack of mail.

Avery smiled.

The castle was a well-oiled machine being run, at least in part, by the willpower of thirteen-year-olds.

Avery waited until the kids were on the way to their rooms for afternoon rest.

She tapped Tuck on the shoulder. “May I talk to you alone?”

Avery hated the way her heart raced whenever she spoke to him, especially after she had seen the drawing of him and Ilsa. If Tuck was spoken for—even if their courtship had been forged in childhood—she must not fan the flame of her feelings for him.

Tuck motioned for her to follow him to the sitting room just off of the dining room.

They stood in the center of the room.

“We need a new system,” Avery began as she paced and gestured. “Everyone here needs something, and everyone here can offer something. When people feel useless, they become unproductive, and when that happens, chaos ensues.”

Tuck smiled. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” “Another thing. We should pay the kids for their work. Otherwise, what’s the point of all of this? A workman is worthy of his hire, right? It says so in the Bible.”

Tuck laughed, and Avery stopped pacing.

“Sorry,” Tuck said, holding up his hands and collapsing into a chair. “No problem with anything you’ve said, except we don’t have any money. And what would we be able to do with money anyway? But I admire your passion.”

“We don’t need money. We have something better. Follow me.”

Tuck followed her to the storage room and the collection she and Kate had discovered. She watched carefully to see how he reacted to seeing the rich mahogany furniture, glass bottles, and crates of knickknacks—a lifetime of treasures in one room.

“Incredible,” he said. “How did you know this was in here?”

“I was looking for grates,” she said. “But that doesn’t matter.

What matters is what I’d like to do with this.”

Tuck listened for nearly an hour, adding his own thoughts during those rare instances when Avery stopped to take a breath.

“Thanks for listening,” Avery said.

Tuck smiled. “I’ll listen to you anytime.” Then he winked, and there went her pulse again, racing without her permission.

“So I can start right away?” Avery pressed.

Tuck nodded.

She needed to ask him about the connection between Angelina and Elizabeth.

She also needed to muster the courage to ask him about Ilsa—and soon.

But first she would need to find a logical reason to do so.

Chapter 25