The Red Pearl (4 page)

SOMETHING WET MOVED IN HER hand. Wet and wiggly. Groggy, Antonia opened her eyes. She shuddered to find a rubbery black nose, its long meaty tongue licking her palm. With a gasp, she yanked her hand away and wiped it on the bedsheets. “Maverick, get away from me!”

The dog only wagged its tail as though she’d praised it, amber eyes beaming at her.

“Ah,” said a strange voice, and Antonia yelped. She’d thought she was alone. She looked up to see an older man standing by the foot of the bed in which she lay, sporting a curly mane of graying red hair. How did she get there?

“Who are you?” she demanded shakily, sitting up. “Where am I?”

“There, there,” he said gently, raising his hands aloft. “It’s all right. My name is Dr. Thaddeus Watkins, and this is my home.”

Her breaths were short, as if she couldn’t quite collect them. But the name struck a chord in her memory, and her pulse relaxed. “Dr. Watkins? You are Robin’s father, then?”

He nodded kindly.

Antonia blotted her forehead. It was warm in this place. “I don’t understand. I can’t recall getting here…”

“My son says you were bitten by ciqédo. When he arrived, you were unconscious in his arms.”

Antonia stared at him. She’d been in Robin’s
arms?
Why, the man had
carried
her through the rest of the forest?

“I’ve some clothing here that you might find more comfortable,” said Dr. Watkins uncertainly, although his eyes were friendly behind his spectacles. “They were my late wife’s. Please, help yourself.” He turned and departed, closing the door to grant her privacy.

Antonia arose from the bed and glanced around. The chamber was a pigsty, all sorts of charts and papers and what looked like unassembled parts scattered about the floor. Her eyes rested upon a stack of gowns atop the dresser. These had belonged to Robin’s mother?

She sifted through them. Mrs. Watkins had apparently been fond of blue, each garment possessing some shade of the color. She selected a soft cotton number, a white top sewn with azure skirts. Pulling off her salmon robes, Antonia examined her forearm. She was surprised to discover a series of hives sprouting there, though they’d been coated in a soothing paste. She wondered how it got there.

Mrs. Watkins’s dress fit her well. It was just a bit baggy at the waist, but that was easily corrected with an adjustable sash. With her fingers, she combed out her hair, desiring a mirror in which to examine herself. Exiting the room in search of one, she instead found Dr. Watkins reclining in an armchair with a stack of newspapers.

He peeked above the pages, and his expression grew sentimental. “Ah.” He grinned sadly. “That was one of her favorites.”

Antonia looked down, feeling guilty for evoking the widower’s sorrow.

But he only set the paper aside. “And for that matter, you may keep it, child.”

She was touched. “How kind of you.”

The doctor was about to respond when they were interrupted by noisy footfalls, accompanied by petulant grumbling. “You need a new razor, Thad. That dull blade of yours only sliced me half-a-dozen times…”

A young man entered the room, his auburn hair damp and combed neatly back, his face—but for a few squares of gauze at his throat and lip—cleanly shaven. Antonia’s eyes widened. Why, it was Robin.

All at once, the room became stifling. Antonia felt oddly uncomfortable, yet could not peel her gaze away. The man looked almost a decade younger without a beard. And…well, he was handsome.
Remarkably
so.

She never would have guessed.

Robin cleared his throat, looking just as surprised by her appearance. For a moment, neither spoke.

“Well,” Dr. Watkins folded his hands together, “now that your friend is awake, Rob, care to introduce us?”

Robin blinked, and Antonia looked away, begging her pulse to steady. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? He’d only shaved, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t as though a smooth face would change that impossible personality of his, or the fact that he was forcing her on his map hunt against her will.

“Erm. Thad, this is my…” Robin seemed to be struggling with what to call her. At last, he settled with, “This is Annie. I mean, Antonia Korelli.”

She inclined her head.

“Annie, this is my father, Thad…”

“We’ve met,” she informed Robin, for some reason unable to look him in the eye. “But why do you call your father by his first name?”

Robin shrugged. “I always have.”

Dr. Watkins gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid we’re not the most conventional family.”

“Nor the most conventional people.” Robin made his way to the kitchen. “Which is probably why there’s no
food
here.” He opened an empty cabinet, and looked pointedly at his father. “What’ve you been living off of? Old cigars?”

His father waved him off. “There’s a loaf in the breadbox.”

“Oh, a
loaf.”
Robin crossed his arms. “Thank goodness, I thought we were all going to starve.”

“And I’ve some potatoes,” his father added sternly. “Why do you think only of food? You are like a teenaged boy.” He rose to his feet. “Now, come. There’s something I’d like to show you in the shed.”

Robin groaned dramatically.

“Miss Korelli can join us.” Hopeful, Dr. Watkins beckoned her, and Antonia stepped forward.

“Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s
fascinating,”
said Robin. “But I could really use a hot meal and a nap more than anything right now.”

Antonia, however, was curious. Robin had said his father was an inventor, after all. “I’ll have a look, Dr. Watkins,” she offered.

The old man beamed, and Robin huffed. Resigned, he followed them out the front door and down a wide wooden porch. Birdcalls floated amidst the humid air, and Antonia glanced around. But for the disorganized mess inside the cabin, their home was rather charming.

An old shed was nestled at the edge of the property, and in her new attire, she had no trouble wading through the heat to reach it. Mrs. Watkins’s dress was much more breathable in this climate than the Azean robes had been.

Dr. Watkins unlatched the shed’s double doors and swung them open. Antonia squinted, coughing, as a cloud of dust rose in her face. The shed’s interior was illuminated by the brilliant evening sunset, revealing all manner of contraptions and trinkets, wheels and gears, and what appeared to be dozens of half-finished projects. It looked like the lair of a madman.

The fine hair on Antonia’s arms prickled. Were either of these people entirely sane?

“Pardon the mess,” chuckled the amiable doctor, winding through the maze of junk. “But truly, you two are the first to witness my latest opus.” He brought them to what resembled an open carriage.

Antonia peered up. A wheel was attached inside the carriage, beneath which rested a pair of pedals on its floor. Robin came beside her, his brow wrinkled.

“It’s a horseless carriage!” cried Dr. Watkins, opening the half-door and climbing in. “Of course, I haven’t worked out all the kinks just yet…”

Robin’s shift in attitude was drastic. “My gods.” His voice was a whisper, but Antonia perceived it, as well as his slow, triumphant smile.

“She runs on a motor,” the doctor explained, and launched into a detailed description of engine-building. All the while, Robin surveyed the vehicle, eyes gleaming. Antonia stared between them. She still did not quite understand. What, exactly, did a horseless carriage entail?

Dr. Watkins was in the middle of an intricate explanation about wiring when Robin excitedly interrupted him. “Can we see how it works?”

His father halted, caught off-guard. “Well, sure.” He dug into his pocket and extracted a key ring. He then stuck a copper key into the wheel’s base. Antonia jumped as noisy rumbling filled the shed.

Cheerfully, Dr. Watkins waved them aside. “Move over,” he commanded, slamming his foot onto one of the pedals. Robin and Antonia leapt from the way as the carriage shot out of the shed, great wheels rotating beneath it. The old man drove it up the lawn and down a narrow dirt path, curly hair flying in the breeze. “It’s a joy! You must give her a try, Rob.”

Antonia watched in awe as Dr. Watkins drove the carriage back to them and slid to the opposite end of the bench. Robin eagerly jumped inside and took his place at the wheel.

“The right pedal is go, left is stop,” his father briefed him. “Now, grip the steering wheel with both hands, there’s a good lad.”

Robin’s grin faltered as the motor only continued to chug. “Why won’t it go?”

“Oh.” Dr. Watkins pushed back a lever. “Sorry. Had it in park.”

His son extended a leg again when, to Antonia’s astonishment, the carriage zoomed backwards. “What the—?”

“Whoops!” The old man laughed. “That’s reverse.” He adjusted the lever again.

Robin gaped at him. “It
reverses
?”

His father smiled with pride, and Robin hit the pedal once more. This time, the carriage sped forward. Antonia applauded, laughing. What innovation! Why, Dr. Watkins was no madman at all—but clearly, a genius!

“It’s perfect,” declared Robin, bringing the vehicle to a stop and slipping the lever up to park it. He turned to his father, brimming with enthusiasm. “May we borrow it?”

THAD BLINKED. “BORROW IT?”

Rob’s heart palpitated. Somehow, deep down, he must’ve known his father would have the answer. He’d been more than right to go home. “I’d like to use it to get to Axacola.”

His father’s face fell. “Oh, I don’t know, Rob…”

“Come on.”

“She’s my only prototype.”

“We’ll take excellent care of her.” Rob looked over at the girl standing by the shed. “Won’t we, Annie?”

She merely glanced at him with those gray-blue eyes, and his heart gave another strange palpitation. Boy, did she wear Mum’s dress quite differently than Mum had…

In her heavy pink robes, Antonia Korelli had been a fair-enough looking girl. Not that Rob was interested in her, or anything. But now, swathed in thinner, lighter material, he was surprised to discover the feminine shape he’d missed beneath all of that unflattering temple garb. Why, she was more of a woman than he’d realized, with an ample curve to her bust, a petite waist, and long, strong-looking legs…

“You really want her?” Thad sighed.

“Beg pardon?” demanded Rob, removing his sweaty palms from the steering wheel.

“My prototype.” Thad scratched his neck. “You want to borrow her?”

“Oh.” Rob opened the half-door. “For a time, yes.”

His father stepped down from the vehicle alongside him. “May I ask why?”

Rob bit the inside of his cheek. He’d no desire to relay the humiliating details of his closest friends’ betrayal. “My horse was stolen,” he muttered.

Thad looked surprised. “By whom?”

Unexpectedly, Antonia piped up. “It was my fault…sort of.”

Rob rubbed his brow. No, none of it was her fault, really. Perhaps it had, until then, satisfied him to blame her. But she’d only been trying to help. In fact, what she’d done that day—stepping before a loaded gun to defend a complete stranger—was unbelievably brave. Braver than anything he’d ever done.

Thad looked between them, confused.

“I was betrayed,” Rob confessed, “by Adams.” He flushed. “And Rowena.”

His father’s face shadowed over. “Well. If it’s any consolation, I never liked that girlfriend of yours.” His bushy eyebrows narrowed. “As for Jules Adams, all I can say is: like father, like son.”

Rob kicked at the dirt. After all of these years, he should’ve known better. “They took the map,” he added.

The old man stiffened. “They what?”

“Wen aimed her pistol at me. I had to let it go. But…” Awkwardly, Rob indicated the blonde-haired girl standing before them. “Annie here saved me. In fact, were it not for her, I’d have probably been shot.”

Antonia appeared taken aback. But her expression softened, until Rob could almost swear she concealed a tender smile. He turned away, his neck burning for some reason. It was too damn hot outside; that was it.

Thad’s features, however, hardened. “Robin Sturgis Watkins.” He slipped the key to the horseless carriage from its ring. “You take my prototype, and get your map back.”

Rob received the copper key, exhaling with relief. “Thank you. Truly.”

“Don’t mention it.” His father cocked his wild-haired head. “Now, come. Let’s fix you kids some dinner.”

ANTONIA STOOD ON THE FRONT porch, meditating beneath the evening sky. A mild wind meandered by, rippling the skirts of her frock and revealing fair calves. Meanwhile, her hair twirled in the breeze despite her immobile stance, as though containing a life of its own.

“Haven’t I taught you that it’s impolite to ogle women?”

Rob jolted. He’d been gazing through the kitchen window, and hadn’t realized his father coming to stand beside him. He cleared his throat, raising his coffee mug to his lips. “I wasn’t ogling.”

Thad grinned knowingly. “You were clearly enjoying the view.”

“What’s to enjoy?”

“Come, now.” Thad lowered his voice. “I know you cared for Wen, son, but don’t surpass a good thing when it comes your way. I see the way Miss Korelli looks at you.”

Rob squinted at him, incredulous. “The devil are you talking
about?” He set his mug onto the counter, perhaps too forcefully. “The girl cannot stand me, Thad.”

His father only shrugged. “If you say so.”

Rob shook his head. The old man was turning batty.

“Well.” Thad raised his arms overhead, suspenders stretching over his portly belly. “I’m turning in for the night. But by all means, you two stay up. I’m sure our guest is craving your attention.” With a tiny wink, he strode off, leaving Rob in the kitchen with Maverick.

The dog bobbed its tail, sniffing the counter for crumbs, and Rob tossed him a biscuit. Making up his mind, he pressed through the front door, joining the girl on the porch. She was finishing her evening prayers, bringing her first two fingers to her brow. Serenely, she reopened her eyes.

Neither spoke at first, listening to the chirps of crickets and the throaty belches of toads in the pond across the way. At last, Rob broke the silence. “So. You ready to hit the road again tomorrow?”

Her eyes dimmed. “I suppose.”

“What’s the matter?”

Antonia shrugged, watching the pulse of a firefly hovering before them. “I rather like it out here. Your father is very kind.”

If by kind she meant crazy, then Rob would agree. He examined her, noting the distance in her expression. “How long has it been,” he asked, “since you last saw your own father?”

She looked away, holding her breath.

“Annie?”

“Six years.”

Rob frowned. “That’s an awfully long time.”

She met his gaze, and he was surprised by the tears glistening on her lashes. “I know. Temple apprentices are forbidden to see their families until they’ve been initiated into the priestess-hood. It is the custom.”

Rob fingered his collar. “Well, we could go and visit your parents sometime, if you’d like. I could…take you to them—”

But she fretfully shook her head, startling him. “Nay,” she breathed, blue eyes wide. “My parents mustn’t ever
know I’ve fled the temple!”

“But won’t they eventually find out?” asked Rob, bemused. “When all the other apprentices are anointed, your family shall surely notice your absence among them.”

“Then let them notice at that time,” Antonia insisted. “By then, I’ll be long since wed, off on a brave adventure with my noble knight.” Her expression sparkled at the thought. “Anyway. You are lucky to have a home and family to return to.”

Rob snorted. “That’s generous of you, seeing as the place is a wreck these days. Trust me, things could’ve been a whole lot different for us.”

The girl propped her elbows on the railing behind her. Rob couldn’t help but take in the outline of her figure against the glow of the low-hanging moon. “What do you mean?” she asked him.

“It’s sort of a long story.” He sighed. “But we used to live in Innía City. That’s where I was raised. Thad owned a medical practice there, though he was always tinkering on the side. We were well-off, back then. And for all ten years of grammar school, I attended the Innía Institute for Boys.”

Antonia looked impressed. “Really?”

Rob smiled at the memory of his youth. “It was a great place for learning. Alas, I wasn’t the best pupil. Bit of a daydreamer.” He folded his arms, peering out to the woods. “It was there I met my best mate, Jules Adams. He’s the man you encountered the morning…well, the morning we met.”

Antonia scrunched her brow.

“Oh, Adams and I did everything together, every day devising games and scavenger hunts around town. Often, I’d get so caught up in our play, I’d neglect my schoolwork. Adams, on the other hand, was a far better student. I always had to copy his notes.” Rob chuckled humorlessly, recalling the shy, studious raven-haired boy alongside whom he’d grown up. Where had things ever gone wrong between them?

He stepped closer until he stood adjacent to Antonia, their arms almost touching. “Well, we spent so much time together that, naturally, our fathers became friends, too. Emory Adams had my father’s dream job: an engineer. Thad had wanted to enter the profession himself, only his parents forced him into medicine.”

Antonia nodded sympathetically.

“Anyway, Thad came up with a clever invention. Yet, before he could patent it, Emory asked to borrow his prototype, only to turn around and tout it as his own.”

The girl inhaled. “That is horrible.”

Rob leaned against the rail. “Aye, and Thad took it quite hard. Especially when old Emory became quite a success. Never gave my father any credit, did he. And Thad had no way to prove the invention his.”

“What was it?”

Rob cocked his head. “Y’ever hear of those pocket watches that announce the time?”

She gasped. “Your father invented the talking pocket watch?”

Rob nodded. “Soon, everyone in Innía wanted one, until the product spread all over Otlantica. Emory Adams became a very wealthy man, indeed.”

Antonia looked disgusted.

“Eventually, my father sold his medical practice and moved out here to the sticks for an early retirement. He wants nothing more to do with city folk.”

“I don’t blame him,” declared the girl, and for a moment, Rob could not help but appreciate her loyalty to his father.

Feeling guilty, he looked away. “Meanwhile, I’d known what Emory had done, yet remained best mates with his son for years. And my parents never said a word to me against it.” He shook his head. “What a fool I’ve been.”

Antonia’s voice was soft. “You are no fool.” She lifted her chin. “You were brave enough not to condemn a man for the deeds of his father. If anything, you showed great integrity, mercy to Jules. Though, unfortunately…” She faded, as they both knew which route Rob’s former friend had taken in the end.

His chest constricted as he pondered not only Adams, but his now ex-girlfriend, Rowena. “Guess you can’t trust anyone in this world,” he muttered bitterly.

Antonia looked somewhat pained by the proclamation, but did not argue.

An owl hooted in the distance, and the man regained his senses. “Hey, it’s getting late, isn’t it?” He straightened. “I think we’d both better get some shut-eye. Big day ahead, and all.”

She said nothing.

“Do you remember where the guestroom is?”

She nodded.

“Right.” Rob made to turn. “‘Night, then.”

“Robin?” Antonia watched him beneath the moonlight. “Did you carry me through the Greyer Woods, and rub aloe on my ciqédo bites?”

His face burned, although he couldn’t fathom why. At any rate, he was glad for the darkness, which concealed it. “I…” He cleared his throat. “Well, yes.”

With a gentle swish of her skirts, she came before him. To his utmost surprise, she leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. His skin was still sensitive from his recent shave, unused to being exposed after so many weeks beneath a coarse beard.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She stepped past him and reentered the cabin, leaving Rob standing motionless behind her.