Chapter 9

“You took it? Yeah, right,” Fred said.

“It was me!”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Mai, I know you didn’t do it. You’re just trying to stop me from following Lester.”

She stomped her foot. “I took it!”

“I don’t need you to protect me. Now, are you coming with me or not?”

He inched closer to the open doorway. Mai’s voice faded as he concentrated on the other voices. He could almost make them out. But his heart was still beating so loudly it thudded in his ears. Boom. Boom. Boom. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm down.

“Fred, I’m serious!” Mai hissed.

“Shh, I’m trying to listen.”

She leaned in close to him, standing on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear. “I took it from the hole you dug under your sleeping bag.”

Fred whipped around, his eyes locking with hers. He hadn’t told anyone where his hiding place was. Her arm was pressed against his. He backed away and it fell to her side.

“You stole it from me?”

“I—”

“What did you do with it?”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Mai, tell me where it is, right now.”

The voices inside the room were louder, like they were moving closer to the door. Fred had a flash of panic at getting caught, then thought, What difference does it make? So what if Lester and his dad were in there? Lester wasn’t the box thief. Mai was. He edged past her and bolted up the stairs into the daylight.

“Fred, wait.” Mai was close on his heels.

He spun around. “Where is it?” he demanded.

“I don’t have it here,” she said gesturing to her costume. “I came right from the restaurant.”

“You left it in the tent all day?” he shouted.

Mai blinked, clearly startled. Even in his anger, Fred instantly realized why—he’d never yelled at her before.
Not ever.

“Why?” he asked, lowering his voice. He shook his head. It seemed like a bad dream.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “B-because it’s stealing. You’d have gotten in trouble. That Gerard guy would have turned you in for sure.”

“It isn’t stealing!”

“You were going to s-steal those keys from the museum, too.”

Fred felt as if his blood had become hot steam. “Only to see if they opened the box!” he bellowed. “I wasn’t going to keep them!”

“I—I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed.

“Do you still have it?”

She didn’t answer, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking.

“Geez, Fred, yell a little louder,” Grace said. “I don’t think the guards heard you on shore.” She and Jeeter appeared from around the corner. “What’s going on?”

Several passengers were watching them. He turned toward the ocean, sucking in deep breaths. Mai had betrayed him. The entire day wasted! Searching tents! This boat ride! He could have opened the box long ago—his mom could have gone home!

“Fred?”

Mai’s usually sweet voice now sounded like nails on a chalkboard. He ignored her.

“I only did it to help you.”

The deck tilted under his feet. The dark clouds were closer and they’d lost the sun. Waves smacked against the hull. The deep blue of the ocean was now a steely grey.

“Only did what to help him?” Grace said. “Why are you crying?”

Mai babbled some response. She was really crying now, hiccuping, too.

“Fred, what did you do?” Grace accused.

He felt a ripple of guilt, but immediately pushed it away. The ocean’s choppy darkness matched his mood. His hip banged into the railing as the ship swayed.

They’d exited the harbour and rounded past the lighthouse. The ship was heading in the direction of Le Chameau Rock, named after the ship it had wrecked. They couldn’t be going that far, though; it would take too long. Fred recognized the landmarks, having scoured every map of the area he could find before this weekend.

Fred leaned against the railing, the spray flying high as the ship cut through the waves. The rocky shoreline edged past on the left, or the port side according to the book on Le Chameau he’d read. The trees were obscured by ribbons of fog. A tourist paused, snapping shots of the coast.

“What’s happened?” Grace asked. She stood beside him, draping her arms over the side of the boat. “Mai’s a blubbering mess.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“She was trying. But she wasn’t making any sense. Something about the box, then crazy talk about stealing keys and prison,” Grace said with a smirk. “Must be heat stroke.”

“Yeah, right, that’s the reason.”

“Your fault.” She jabbed him with her elbow. “It’s because of you she worked in that restaurant inferno all afternoon.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Hey, lighten up. I’m kidding.”

Fred didn’t bother filling Grace in on what Mai was really upset about. She’d find out what Mai had done soon enough. And he didn’t feel like talking about it. The wind gave the boat wings, and they flew through the water, really moving now. It seemed like no time at all and they’d already reached the area of Little Lorraine.

Three large longboats were heading from shore toward them. A booming voice echoed through the ship. “We’ll be dropping anchor and the second part of the adventure will begin!”

There was scattered applause.

“You’ll be leaving the Invictum and the longboats will take you ashore for a brief excursion to a site where the British landed. Refreshments are planned at sunset and then buses will return you to the fortress.”

Leave now? Was this planned? No one looked surprised. It must be part of the tour. Was his dad leaving too?

Fred returned to the other side of the ship, where they’d come aboard. Already, the tourists had started lining up. “Uh, what did we come on this boat for?” Grace said. “We didn’t even do anything and now we’re getting off.”

Jeeter was with Mai, standing close to the line. Grace went over to them and said something. Jeeter glanced over at Fred, but Mai’s head was bowed, her hair covering her face.

The crew leapt amongst the rigging, pulling in the sails and tying them tight. The ship groaned and creaked, again reminding Fred of something alive. This time it was cranky at being bound, probably feeling strangled like he did in his shirt and tie on Sundays. It wanted to run. Be free.

The ship slowed noticeably and dropped anchor with a huge splash. They’d soon be disembarking. Remaining stragglers appeared and joined the line. One of the boats drew alongside. Ropes were thrown down to tie it on while the passengers descended the ladder.

The crowd clustered together, shuffling forward like a herd of sheep. Mai moved closer to them. If she was getting off, so was he. If she still had the box, he couldn’t let her go back alone. She’d turn it in.

That was not happening.

But where was his dad? Then it hit him. Of course! They were getting everyone off the ship. His dad would stay on board so he could dive undetected.

Well, there wasn’t anything he could do about that. The box was more important. More important than anything his dad was going to try to haul up from the bottom of the sea, that was for sure. And his dad would come up empty-handed anyway, like always. Fred moved to stand in line.

Then Molly, park archaeologist and harbourmaster, wished the group of people she was talking to a good time and walked away—toward the back of the ship. She was staying on board?

Fred remembered what she’d said earlier—no one can dive without a permit from her. His father’s night dive flashed in his mind. There was no way he had a permit.