Pillage
“I don’t understand.”
“Have you been to the gardens?” he asked, worried. “The back gardens?”
His tone was so grave that I felt I needed to lie. “No.”
“Good,” he sighed. “Stay away from the back gardens.”
“What about the growing?”
“You’re a Phillips.” He shrugged. “It’s something in you.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with me being able to make salad fly.”
“It’s using you,” he muttered darkly.
“Who?” I asked in confusion. “The lettuce?”
“Careful,” he warned. “You are treading with heavy feet where the ground is still brittle.”
I needed a translator.
“Why don’t you come down?” I asked. “Come down from the roof. Walk around the house; tell me about my mother.”
“Foolishness.” He peered through the telescope again.
I shook my head and decided to take another tack. “Someone said there was a basement here.”
“Who said that?” He shoved the telescope away so quickly I heard the metal creak.
“A boy at school,” I said, scared.
“School,” he hissed in derision. “I suppose Squall is still there.”
“He is,” I said, surprised.
“Ever since . . . well, he’s never cared for our family.” He shook his head. “And Wales?”
“What?” I asked, thinking he was asking about whales that lived in the sea.
“Principal Wales,” Aeron clarified. “He’s still manning the helm of Callowbrow?”
“Yes.”
“Humor him,” my uncle said. “But place no confidence in what he teaches. Now what boy told you tales of a basement?”
“I don’t know his name,” I lied.
“You are a poor liar,” my uncle said sadly. “And there is no basement.”
I wanted to accuse him of being a poor liar as well but I held my tongue.
“Can I visit you again?” I asked. I didn’t care that Aeron was half a person living a fraction of a real life, I wanted more than anything to have the connection of family.
Aeron saw something float by in the sky and reached excitedly for his telescope. He looked at me, surprised I was still there.
“Go,” he ordered, rapping his staff against the floor.
I opened the trapdoor.
“Beck?”
I turned back to look at him.
“I see Francine in you.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s the truth. Now go.”
He turned his attention back to the skies. I turned my attention to the stairs and made my way back to my room.
Chapter 13
I Wonder
I thought about what my uncle said all night. I even dreamed about him and my mother scolding me for not being responsible and telling the truth about having found the basement. When I woke up in the morning, Wane was sitting on the edge of my bed, wanting to know what my uncle had told me.
I kept it very vague.
After school, Milo, Kate, and I met at the conservatory again and like magic, the ivy slowly climbed the wall at my command. Milo was pretty impressed. He did a weird sort of happy dance as he watched it grow.
“You okay?” I asked.
“That’s just so cool.”
I shrugged, glancing at Kate, wondering if she thought the same thing.
We all scaled the wall and descended into the conservatory.
“What is this place?” Milo asked.
“I have no idea.”
We walked around the entire inside of the conservatory. We got down on our stomachs and peered into the underground cage. The floor was covered with a thick layer of the dirt we had knocked down yesterday. It was a tall cage. If I were to stand inside of it, my five-foot-eleven frame would probably only reach the bottom third of it. We could see a small door with a large lock at the bottom. What we couldn’t see was how anyone could get to that door since the tunnel leading to it didn’t appear to go very far.
Frustrated by the mysterious cage, we walked around the rest of the conservatory, looking for answers. Beneath the metal bins near the shack, we found a pipe with a rusty handle. When I pulled on it, water flowed out of the pipe and filled the bin.
We walked over and stood by one of the eight plants.
“What do you think they are?” Kate asked.
“I wish I knew.”
“Didn’t your uncle tell you anything?”
“Not really.”
I knelt down by one of the plants and looked closely at it. “It looks new,” I said.
Milo wanted to see what was in the shack, so we went inside. We cleared out the webs and dusted things as well as we could. One by one, we brought all eight stones out into the gray light. We laid the stones out on the ground and took a few moments to look at each one.
“Maybe they’re just rocks,” Milo said.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “And maybe the ivy just happens to grow fast whenever I ask it to.”
“I know things are weird,” Kate agreed. “But there has to be some explanation for all this.”
“Let me know when you think of it,” I replied.
“There are eight rocks,” Milo said suddenly.
“So?” I said.
“There are eight plants,” Milo pointed out.
“Coincidence?” Kate asked.
I picked up a stone that had a yellow line running through it. It was heavier than lead. I pulled it up to my waist and
shuffled over to the closest plant. I set the stone down on the soil as though I knew what I was doing. The rock sank a few inches into the dirt.
I looked at the tiny shoot of green next to the rock and kindly asked it to do whatever it was it was supposed to do. No one was more surprised than I was that the plant listened.
The sprout began to twist up before bending down and burrowing into the earth. The soil sizzled, and in a few seconds a small, green nest blossomed on the ground with the stone tucked neatly inside.
“Wow,” Milo laughed.
“So, is that what it’s supposed to do?” Kate whispered in awe.
“I guess so,” I whispered back.
“Do the rest,” Milo said excitedly.
As quickly as we could, we moved the stones into place—setting each stone near each plant. One thought from me, and the tiny green shoot sprang up, lifting each stone out of the dirt and into a cozy nest.
“Can you make them grow higher?” Milo asked.
As much as I concentrated, though, I could not get the nests to expand or the plant to lift the stones any higher.
“What now?” Kate asked.
“I have no idea.”
As if on cue, lightning lit the low clouds and thunder ripped through the air. Seven seconds later, heavy raindrops smacked down all around us. We ran to the shed and closed the door.
The rain picked up, deep puddles forming all over the yard. The ground in the area was already so waterlogged, the puddles filled up quickly. The noise of the rain against the thatched roof was deafening.
“We have to get out!” Kate yelled.
Thunder shook the shed.
“I’m not climbing over that wall with lightning going off!” Milo screamed.
The rain increased in strength, beating against the window violently. Water ran off the shack in torrents. I couldn’t see the soil outside anymore.
“The conservatory couldn’t actually fill up, could it?” Milo asked, panicked.
“Don’t be stupid,” I replied. “It would take days to fill this place. The walls are too high.”
“I can’t swim,” Milo announced.
“Would you relax?” I snapped. “We’ll be fine.”
A bolt of lightning struck the roof of the shack at the same time the clap of thunder knocked us to our knees. My ears rang from the sound and my eyes burned with white light from the flash. I could smell something
thick and oily.
“Smoke,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I smell smoke.”
“The shack is on fire!” Kate yelled at me.
I looked up, wiping tears and rain from my eyes. Huge orange flames were eating holes in the thatched roof. Dark black smoke boiled across the ceiling and flowed down the walls. I coughed hard enough I saw stars.
We couldn’t stay here. Already the temperature was rising in the confined space. The fire would destroy the entire shack in just a few minutes. With us inside.
“What are we going to do?” Milo shouted.
Lightning ripped through the conservatory. We couldn’t escape across the courtyard.
I fell to my knees, running my hands over the floor, looking for the metal grate where the sack of stones once sat in the center of the shack.
“Here,” I said as my fingers latched onto the grate. “We can get out through here.” I pulled on the grate and it shifted slightly. “Help me lift this, Milo.”
Kate knelt down by me and Milo and all three of us pulled. The grate came loose and we shoved it to the side. I turned to look down the long hole.
“Where do you think it goes?” Milo asked.
“Down,” I said, stating the obvious.
“There’s no way I’m going in there,” Milo said. “What if it just leads to that cage?”
“Then stay here and burn,” I snapped. I could feel the heat from the flames licking at my skin.
Thunder rocked the air and another lightning bolt shook the ground.
“I’m going,” Kate said, bending down to slip into the hole.
“Let me go first,” I insisted. “We don’t know what’s down there.”
She let me push her out of the way and I sat down on the edge of the hole with my legs dangling in the dark. Raindrops were falling through the ruined roof, sizzling with the heat of the fire all around us. My shoes found a small, protruding step in the wall.
“There’s a foothold here,” I exclaimed.
I lowered myself into the hole. The air was a little cooler here but I knew it wouldn’t last long. My right foot found another ledge.
I descended further. I couldn’t see anything and smoky air filled my lungs each time I tried to talk. I glanced up to see Kate’s legs stepping down right above me.
Three more steps down and I could feel the floor. I jumped down and felt around, trying to get some idea of where I was.
A thin stream of water trickled down the hole and started to pool around my ankles. With the shack gone and the grate open, nothing would stop the rain from flooding the tunnel. I didn’t want to escape burning to death only to drown instead.
Kate splashed down next to me in the mud. We moved down the tunnel, trying to put as much distance between us and the rising water.
“Where’s Milo?” I asked.
His feet splashing down answered for me.
“I can’t see anything,” Kate said needlessly.
“We should go back,” Milo pleaded. “I bet the fire’s out by now. Maybe we could get out.”
“I doubt it,” I said. “Come on.”
I moved down the tunnel, feeling my way in the dark. Kate had her hand on my belt and she instructed Milo to hold onto her hand. The water around our feet was rising.
“We should go back,” Milo kept saying. “We have no idea where this goes. What if it goes nowhere? What if the water keeps getting higher?”
“I guess we’d die,” I said, tired of him freaking out.
“We should go back,” Milo yelled again.
The water was almost up to my knees and the tunnel was still pitch black.
“Go faster,” Kate begged.
“I can’t see anything,” I said, growing concerned myself.
We had reached a point of no return. The water was rising and we were deep enough into the tunnel that even if we were to turn around, we might not get back to the hole before the water completely flooded the tunnel. We all seemed to realize it at the same time.
“What do we do now?” Kate whispered.
I was crouched over, trying to step as wide as possible, hoping that I didn’t walk over an unseen edge or into a wall.
“This was a stupid idea,” Milo muttered.
I was going to argue something back, but the tunnel floor suddenly dropped out from beneath me and I fell five feet into
a large room filled with water. I flailed wildly under the
water, struggling to get up for air. But Kate still had hold of my belt. She fell hard right on top of me, pushing me deeper underwater. We twisted around, trying to untangle ourselves just as Milo—who still had hold of Kate’s hand—joined the wet party.
I thought I would never taste air again.
Just before my lungs gave out, I surfaced, gasping in the dark, wet air. I could hear Kate and Milo coughing and choking as they surfaced behind me. I swam a little ways away from the sound of the falling water and my hand brushed up against the lip of another tunnel. I was able to pull myself up and stand. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see Kate in the water and reached out to help her up. I did the same for Milo. We could hear the water rushing through the tunnel and falling into the pool in a constant waterfall. At least we were safe on dry ground.
“Where are we?” Milo asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure this will lead us to Buckingham Palace,” I said sarcastically. “How would I know where we are? Come on.” Once again, I could feel Kate holding onto me.
I began to move forward, but as if to punctuate my point of not knowing where we were, I ran right into a dead end.
“Perfect,” I snapped.
“What now?” Kate asked.
“We can’t go back,” Milo whined. “It’s too dark. And I can’t swim across that pool.”
“We have to go back,” I pointed out. “There’s no other way.”
“Wait,” Kate said. “Do you see that?”
“What?” I had no idea what she was looking at. I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
“The wall,” she said. “It’s glowing.”
I felt the dead end and tried to see light.
“There’s something there,” Milo said excitedly. “I can see cracks of light.”
“I can’t see anything,” I admitted.
Kate moved around me and started kicking at the wall. Nothing happened. Milo tried and still nothing. I thought they’d both gone tunnel crazy, so I had them move back and I kicked the dirt wall with my right foot as hard as I could. My leg broke through the wall of dirt and into another opening. A small wash of light dripped into our space. My leg was stuck in the wall.
“I think you’re right,” I said, not too proud to admit my mistake. “But I think I’m stuck.”
Kate and Milo tore at the tunnel where my leg was. Large chunks of dirt broke free and in less than a minute, my leg was freed. There was a big hole in the wall, so we easily slipped through and into the lighted area.
“I think we’re in the basement,” I said happily.
Instantly the mood became more hopeful. There was a faint trace of light further down the tunnel we were standing in. We followed it and eventually entered a room where a candle was burning. We were in the basement, but in a different room than we had been in before. There were four beds sticking out of the dirt walls and an empty fireplace on the opposite side.
“Wow,” Milo said. “Someone digs amazing tunnels.”
“But why?” I questioned.
“We should get out before we’re discovered,” Kate said nervously.
I picked up the candle with my wet hand and the water doused the flame. But like the other candle we’d discovered in the basement, this one came sparking back to life too.
“Come on,” I said, leading the way.
We wandered through the tunnel system for at least a half an hour before we stumbled across the room we’d been in before. In the course of our wanderings, we had found three more rooms that had been partially dug out. One
was a kitchen of sorts; another was a room filled with paintings. The dirt had been cleaned off the paintings, but they were still stuck in the walls. The paintings were of stuffy looking people wearing white wigs. The third room we had found was a library. Only four shelves had been dug free, but we spent some time looking at all the books. Most of them were written in foreign languages. There was a whole shelf about making your own pottery and another section about fire and gardening.
When we finally found the stairs leading out of the tunnels I was more than a little relieved. We pushed the wardrobe out of the way and entered the room with the locked door. I didn’t have the key with me, so we climbed out the window. It was still raining tigers and horses. We stuck to the back edge of the manor and hiked around the tall shrubs to the front walk. We gathered under a drenched willow tree to assess what had just happened to us.
“I’m not sure what all of it means,” I said. “But now we have two ways into the conservatory.”
“Tomorrow, we should check to see what the storm did to the stones,” Kate said.
“At least it’s the weekend,” I said. “I needed a break from Callowbrow. Let’s meet here tomorrow.”
“What time?” Milo asked.
“Ten?” I suggested.
“I’d better go,” Kate said. “My parents are going to be wondering where I am.”
“Mine too,” Milo said.
I felt jealous of them for having parents. “Yeah, go on,” I said. “I want to read that book I found. I’m sure it’s full of really good information.”
They smiled and then ran out into the rain and toward their homes.
Milo shouted, “Happy reading,” as he took off.
I stood under the willow listening to the thunder and hoped Millie had something hot and delicious waiting for me.
She did.
Chapter 14
How Long Until Now?
It rained for three days straight. Then the temperature dropped and it began to snow. Although I suppose snow is too mild a word—it dumped. The statues in the driveway were completely hidden by piles of the white stuff. One morning we couldn’t open the door because it was frozen shut. Once we had managed to open it, the snow was six feet high and blocking our way out. Millie had clapped her hands and claimed it had never snowed so hard in Kingsplot before. Thomas argued that it had, insisting she was too old to remember properly.