The Red Pearl (11 page)

MAVERICK PACED THE PLATEAU, SNIFFING. Rob ascended the hill, gasping to catch his breath. He gazed about. Someone had certainly made camp here, and recently. There was a fire pit, even a few food wrappings on the ground. Another day hiking through the mountains with the guidance of Maverick’s nose, and it appeared they were getting closer. They had only just missed whomever had been there.

The dog pawed at the dirt. Rob crouched down, inspecting the soil. He spotted them at once: hoof prints. There’d been horses! It
had
to be them.

He glanced into the sky. It was darkening already. Much as he hated to stop now, he couldn’t risk the sun setting before he’d found a viable place to camp. A fire pit had already been built at this place; he’d settle there for the evening, and continue first thing at dawn.

Rob only prayed they hadn’t hurt the girl. He didn’t know what they wanted with her. And neither did he know how he’d live with himself, had any harm befallen her. In such a case, he was unsure whether he’d have the heart to continue his search for the Red Pearl at all.

He gathered some branches for a fire and removed the bedroll from his rucksack. Previously, he had repaired the horseless carriage, and left it parked at the foothills with the rest of his things. He simply had to trust that nothing would happen to it in his absence. It would’ve been impossible to drive it up the mountains’ steep, rough slopes.

The sun had hardly risen when Rob and Maverick awoke. The dog scouted ahead of him, nose to the ground, and they wove uphill around boulders and endless trees. At long last, across the morning breeze, Rob heard it: the soft whinnying of a horse. Maverick cocked his ears and raced ahead, Rob chasing behind. He spotted something through the trees, what looked like the peaks of tents.

The man slowed his pace. “Maverick,” he hissed. The dog stopped, and Rob held a finger to his lips.

He peered through the brush. There were, indeed, two tents erected near a smoldering fire pit. Behind them stood his and Adams’s matching chestnut horses, their reins tied to a nearby tree. But he saw no people. Perhaps they were still sleeping, he mused. Which tent was Antonia’s?

A twig cracked beneath his boot as he stepped forward. Rob winced. If he was going to accomplish this, he had to be far more careful. Watching his footing this time, he took another step.

“Watkins.”

His heart nearly stopped beating at the sound of the familiar voice. Spinning around, Rob found himself face-to-face with none other than Jules Adams, who was carrying an armful of firewood.

Rob stared at his former best mate, momentarily stunned. Regaining his senses, he thrust back his arm and slugged the man in the nose.

Adams stumbled back, dumping the firewood onto the ground. Rob leapt from the way as the heavy logs bounced and rolled precariously near his feet.

“Give it up already, will you?” Adams lunged, making to grab him. Rob ducked.

“Why, Jules?” He blocked the man’s fist. “We were all going to split the fortune. I thought we had an agreement—”

Adams pushed him, and Rob staggered back. “The agreement was always between me and Wen.”

“So you used me.” Rob’s gut twisted. “Both of you. All along.”

“And why not?” Adams sneered, black hair falling over his eyes. “Your obsession with the pearl is legendary in itself. If anyone could find the map, it was you. After all, you were the only fool crazy enough to actually rob a—”

“So, when did you two decide all this?” Rob interjected. “Since the very beginning?”

“Rob, I said give it up. Rowena and the map are mine. Now, go home.”

Furious, Rob picked up one of the fallen logs. Adams didn’t miss a beat. At once, the man picked up another log and hurled it. It struck Rob in the chest, knocking the air from his windpipe.

Wheezing, Rob swung his log. Adams caught the other end, attempting to pull it from his hands. Maverick began to bark in distress, and rushed to his aid. But Rob called him off. He didn’t want the dog getting hurt.

In the time it took Rob to deal with the animal, however, Adams had raised another log, preparing to swing. In that moment, Rob had no choice. It was strike or be struck. With a savage grunt, he hurled his log against the other man’s temple, sending him toppling over. Adams lay unconscious, facedown upon the ground.

Pressing his boot over Adams’s back to keep him down, just in case, Rob rummaged through his former friend’s rucksack. The first thing he spotted was a length of rope, which he used to bind Adams’s limp wrists together.

There. At least the man would be out of his hair for a while.

He then hurried through the brush with Maverick. The commotion had drawn the others’ attention, and Rob’s heart skittered the instant he saw her: Antonia, with her blonde hair flailing in the breeze, looking awestruck as she stood at the mouth of a tent.

“Annie,” he cried jubilantly, bolting for her.

Her eyes shone a mixture of joy and terror as she took but a small step forward. Rob’s spirits plummeted to see the cause of her trepidation. Standing behind her, pointing a pistol directly at the back of her head, was Rowena.

He stopped. “Wen.” He forced his voice to stay level. “Come on. Put the gun down.”

“Where’s Jules?” Rowena’s dark eyes shifted to the trees.

Rob shrugged.

“I heard you arguing with him.” She jammed the pistol over Antonia’s ear. “What’ve you done with him?”

Tears streamed down Antonia’s face as her blue-gray eyes besought a thousand wordless pleas.

Rob held up his hands. “He’ll be here in a second,” he lied calmly. “Just let her go, and let’s talk, all right?”

Rowena didn’t budge.

“Wen, please. She’s innocent. You don’t want to do this.” He took a careful step forward. “Listen. You can…you can keep the map, all right? All I ask is that you let Antonia go.”

Antonia trembled, her eyes widening.

But Rowena only sighed. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Robbie-dear. You see, our little Annie’s already translated the rest of the map for us. As such, she knows the way to the pearl. So you understand why I can’t give her back to you now. For, I know full well she’ll only try to help you beat us to the punch.”

“B-but I haven’t translated it all yet,” stuttered Antonia. “I don’t know where the p-pearl is, I swear—”

“Shut up.”
Rowena shoved her.

Rob winced. “Don’t talk to her like that. And if you want to aim your pistol at someone, aim it at me. I’m the one who dragged her into this, in the first place. She has nothing to do with it.”

“Fine. I’ll aim it at you.” Rowena shifted her weapon, pushing Antonia aside and stalking toward him. He held up his hands. “This is your last warning, Watkins,” she growled. “Now get lost, or next time, I swear I’ll shoot both of you.” But Maverick’s frantic barking startled her, and she jumped back as the dog bounded at her, teeth bared.

“Mav,
no,”
Rob hollered as the animal lunged with a snarl. Rowena cried out, backing away and pointing her weapon at the dog. “Don’t shoot him, please,” Rob begged her, moving quickly to restrain Maverick. But the dog leapt at her again.

“Get away,” Rowena howled, waving her gun in the creature’s sable face. Rob watched, momentarily confused. He was, of course, relieved she wasn’t shooting…

But
why,
exactly, wasn’t she?

The dog was clearly threatening her. And she’d a pistol for defense. Yet, why was Rowena only waving it helplessly in Maverick’s face, backing up into a tree with fear in her eyes?

A spark of suspicion rising within him, Rob met her shadowy eyes. “Shoot him,” he commanded.

Rowena’s jaw trembled. “What?”

“You heard me.” He crossed his arms. “Shoot my dog.”
When she remained immobile, he added, “Better yet, shoot
me.”

She lifted the gun, hands shaking, but did nothing.

Slowly, Rob grinned. “You can’t, can you?” He indicated the weapon. “That thing’s not loaded.”

Rowena swallowed.

“Checkmate,” he breathed triumphantly, his smile ever widening. Euphoric, he turned to Antonia. “Annie, get the map.”

The girl hurried into one of the tents. Within moments, she returned, clutching the blessed sheet of vellum to her chest. “Now, untie the horses,” he ordered her.

He turned back to Wen, cornering her against the tree. “Well-played, Miss Wildaison.” He shook his head. “But I’m afraid your treachery cannot go unpunished.”

“Robbie.”
She simpered up at him with a seductive bat of her lashes. “Why, having you so near like this, I’m beginning to realize how much I’ve
missed
you.” She dropped her voice. “Come, darling, let us leave the others behind, and you and I can continue the hunt together.”

Rob laughed. What sort of idiot did she think him?

Knowing the only way to pull this off was to catch her entirely off her guard, he pressed his weight into her, shoving her up against the bark of the tree, and kissed her. She tasted like poison in his mouth, cold and bitter, even worse than the viper’s venom he’d sipped in the desert. But his tactic was working. Before Wen knew it, Rob had secured her wrist in one of the iron manacles he’d borrowed from his father. With a loud click, he attached the other cuff to the base of a thick, flowering tree branch.

He couldn’t have been more relieved to release her. And he was more exhilarated still, the moment the woman realized her predicament. “What in hell have you done?” she snarled, attempting to wrestle her arm free.

Rob stepped back, beaming at his handiwork. “I knew those would come in handy.” He turned and jogged back to Antonia, who awaited him with Maverick and the horses.

“Bastard!”
Wen screeched at his back, writhing as she remained bound to the tree, trying to jiggle her hand from the manacle. “I never loved you, you know! Every hour, every moment with you was an agony I only endured for the pearl—!”

He ignored her, pulse murmuring as he rejoined Antonia. “You can ride my horse,” he told her. “I’ll take Adams’s.”

“I don’t know how to—”

“You’ll be fine,” Rob assured her. “Galleon’s a good fellow, he’ll take care of you. Just follow me, all right?”

He hoisted her up into his horse’s saddle and patted the creature’s chestnut rump. “Good to see you, old boy.” He then hurled himself up onto Adams’s horse, and the pair set off, Maverick sprinting alongside them. Rob’s rucksack bounced against his back as the horses wove downhill at a steady trot.

They passed Adams, who still lay prone in the brush, and Antonia gave a start. “Is he—?”

“Just unconscious. He’ll come to. And good luck to him when he does.” Rob chuckled. “You still have the map, right?”

Antonia flashed the vellum at him as they rode parallel each other, and Rob sighed contentedly.

“So, where are we going?” She looked apprehensive. “Back down the mountain?”

“Aye.” He urged his horse to a swifter pace. “The carriage is parked in the foothills. I’ve repaired it.”

Antonia only nodded, not looking at him. Why, he realized, she didn’t seem very glad at all that he’d rescued her. Rob rode on, puzzled. Wouldn’t she be thrilled, overjoyed to be freed from her captivity? But she said not another word as he guided her down the mountain, even after several hours passed.

Had Wen and Adams said something to her, he began to wonder? Had they slandered him, brainwashed her against him? Rob swallowed, giving the girl a sidelong glance. Maybe they’d told her the truth, what he’d done to get the map? And as a result, perhaps she now thought him loathsome, a criminal.

It should’ve cheered him that the horses moved faster than walking on foot, and that traveling downhill, as opposed to up, made their journey swifter still. But Rob felt merely sober when, by evening, they finally reached the base of the mountain.

Stiff-legged, he jumped down from the horse and helped Antonia dismount Galleon. She hardly glanced at him, simply emitting an obligatory noise of thanks as her sandals hit the ground.

“It’s getting late.” Rob tried to meet her eyes. “And I’m sure I speak for both of us when I say I’m bushwhacked.” He smiled, but she didn’t grin back, only toying with the ends of her hair. “What say we go back to the hostel for dinner,” he suggested, “and call it an early night? Sound good?”

Stiffly, she offered out the vellum. “As I’m sure you recall, Mr. Watkins, our agreement was that I accompany you until you’d regained this.”

Rob slowly took it, confused by the unusual coolness in her tone.

“So. Now that you have that back, we can diverge on our separate ways.
Finally.
”

He looked down, fingering his map. Somehow, he’d imagined feeling far more excited to have it again. As it were, he felt merely numb. Perhaps she was angry over all the harm she’d encountered, all the danger into which he was responsible for placing her? Well, in that case, he couldn’t blame her.

He cleared his throat. “Were you…still going to translate the rest of it for me?”

“I can.” Antonia shrugged. “But soon as I finish, I leave for Elat.”

Then I hope you never finish
, Rob found himself thinking. But he’d never say that to her. Not aloud. For who was he to stand in the way of her dream? Especially after she’d come so far, and risked so much, to help him achieve his.