eyes to recognize the surroundings.
The castle hallway is dimly lit and there’s a strange groaning sound. It’s so faint, I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
Cora whispers, “Dude, catacombs? I expected better digs than this.”
Alex’s garage looks more opulent than this hallway. I hope for the Noricum’s sake their interior decorator did a better job in other parts of the castle.
I whisper, “Are you sure these people have money?”
Cora leans past me to look down the hall. “If they have a vault, it’s probably on the lower levels.”
I point to the right. “This way is as good as any. If you hear people, move into a wall until you hear them pass.”
We don’t have feet here, so footstep sounds aren’t an issue as we explore the hallway. Finding the way through this maze is. When we go up a level, the creepy groaning sound disappears completely. Maybe Alex will know what it was.
After listening outside doors, we stick our faces through them to see if there are any obvious items of value. I don’t suppose we’ll be lucky enough to find a stack of cash lying on a table in an unoccupied room. We’ve been here for a while, but it’s hard to tell time. I haven’t seen any windows and there aren’t clocks hanging on the walls. How do these people function?
Cora and I gesture to each other, keeping our search silent. Every now and then we hear voices or footsteps approach and hide inside a wall. This place is far larger than it looked from the outside. I don’t need hours to search this entire castle, I need days.
I’m about to give up and ask if we should just go home when Cora pulls her face out of an old wooden door. “Dude, pay dirt!” she whispers.
After walking through a door that looks like all the others, I see that the contents are anything but plain. Crowns, silks, ropes of pearls, bouillon, clothing on mannequins, statues—Cora found an actual treasure room.
I don’t see any surveillance or security systems around the door. There is what looks like a fire suppression system. Makes sense. Our kind doesn’t fear humans, just fire.
Cora makes a beeline for a light-blue Renaissance-type dress in the corner. She runs her translucent fingers along the lacy white collar. “Is this… It can’t be.”
“What?” I ask.
She looks at the back side; puts her hand over her mouth, muffling a squeal; and points to the dress and does a little happy dance. “I’m pretty sure this dress belonged to Queen Elizabeth.”
“Err, how can you tell?”
“The bodice has a particular style. She wasn’t just a queen; she actually designed better-fitting corsets. This dress looks like it was made to fit them.”
“Didn’t you say once she had lots of dresses?”
“Yes, over three thousand when she died.”
“Then why is this one so special?”
Cora physically jolts and rips her gaze away from the dress. “Special? None are known to have survived. This is the only one of its kind. It’s not just special or priceless. This is like finding a lost Da Vinci painting!”
She goes back to petting it, just like the Precious. I know that look on her face. I say, “Then it would stand to reason they would miss it if you took it.”
Her face falls. Yeah, I knew what she was thinking.
I move my way through the treasure toward the back of the room. We need something they have lots of, something that won’t be missed. Crowns would be cool, but we don’t know if they’re actually worth something or if they’re just symbols of conquered kings from ancient lands no one cares about anymore.
They have plenty of assorted wooden chests, like I’d expect to see on a pirate ship. They’re more likely to have money in them. If they had something else, it’d be displayed like all the other trophies in here.
“Cora, tear your eyes off the dress and come help me pick a chest.”
She whispers, “Later, baby,” then finally comes to do the job she signed up for.
I find an area near the back by the trunks with enough space for Ruben, Cora, and me to jump into without breaking anything. Satisfied I have enough information to do a jump safely, I withdraw from my stekie, finding myself back in my body, and let go of Cora’s wrist.
The first thing I notice is that the car moving. We’re no longer in the city. “We’re on the road already?”
Thomas replies from the driver’s seat, “Already? You’ve been gone for hours.”
“The place is massive.”
Cora sits up quickly. “And you can’t even begin to imagine the things they have there. A scrap from Queen Elizabeth’s wardrobe would be fabulous, but an entire dress intact?!”
Aggie says, “Pull over.” We’re on a country road. I’m not sure where. The car bumps and lurches as he downshifts and drives on the unpaved shoulder. Ruben gets out and opens the trunk door. Cora and I scoot out.
“Is it getting light?” I ask.
Aggie pulls me over to Ruben. “Yes, and you should get going.”
Cora whimpers, “I have to go.”
Aggie shakes her finger at Cora. “Only if you don’t dally. Get in and get out, no delays. Understand?”
I take a few deep breaths and let the pressure Ruben puts on my mind settle. I imagine my ability is like a balloon blowing up. The air is forced in while the latex fights to retain its shape. Then, when the pressure gets too much, the balloon expands. When I feel that release of pressure, my new expanded power—the ability to relocate my body, not just my mind—is created.
“Ready?” I ask.
“You’re so good at this, Ann,” Ruben says, and I smile. We practice enough; I really should be by now.
I picture the treasure room in the castle, grab Ruben’s and Cora’s hands, and then imagine looking down at the chest. In the blink of an eye, a surge of energy jolts through us, leaving as fast as it came.
Cora doesn’t waste any time rushing over to the dress. She touches it so tenderly I feel bad tearing her away from it.
“Cora!” Ruben whispers.
“Just give her a couple minutes.”
“But Aggie said don’t dally.”
I laugh. “Aggie’s idea of a quick jaunt to the store consists of at least a half an hour of clearance racks. Not dallying is a term dependent on a perspective.”
Cora gently inspects the fabric on the back side of the dress. Near happy tears, she says, “It really was hers. She wore this.”
It’s sweet to see Cora love something as simple as a dress, but I can tell Ruben is getting antsy.
“Cora, we can come back another time, but we should go now.”
She nods, then lightly kisses the cuff on the wrist and backs away.
Ruben asks Cora, “Do you know what you want to take?”
She and I both point to different chests. Me to the smaller one I scoped out earlier, her to the larger one right next to it. It’s not the largest in here, but it’s not small either.
Without moving her feet, Cora rearranges the chests. She floats the larger of the two chests over to us and moves the other ones to cover where it was. We can’t very well leave one clean spot on the dusty floor, so we leave lots.
“Ready?” I ask.
Cora rubs her hands together fiendishly. “To the Batcave!”
I bend over and put my hands on the trunk. Ruben and Cora put their hands on my shoulders. In another blink, we’re back on the side of the road…but there’s no one here.
Ruben asks, “Are you sure this is the right place?”
Just then, Cora’s phone beeps with a text from Aggie. It reads, “It’s easier to take the trunk home.”
Why didn’t I think of that? With another jump, we arrive in the living room and startle Alex.
He jumps up and looks at Ruben, who smiles, then frowns.
Alex yells, “Tara, get down here!”
Uh-oh. He’s not taking this well. We took every precaution and didn’t get caught. There’s no reason for him to be upset. I open my mouth to tell him why he
doesn’t need to worry, but then Tara lands hard at the bottom of the stairs.
It doesn’t take her but a second to ask. “What is this?”
Cora beats me to the answer. “It’s going to solve our money problems!”
Tara doesn’t look happy…not even a little.
-X-
Continue reading The Discord Trilogy
Book I Book II Book III
Lauren Hodge is the oldest of seven children and an identical twin. She has three children and lives in Richland, Washington. Not only does she dislike author biographies immensely, she plays piano decently, cello poorly, likes to cook fattening foods, and shoot anything if gun powder is involved. Besides her obsession with writing, she has a degree in general science…not that you couldn’t tell.
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