23

The Stolen Stone

In the morning, Agatha was gone.

Evelyn rolled over, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Fresh dew twinkled on the grass. She was the first one awake. A group of ducks with bright blue crowns splashed at the edge of the river. Far off, on the opposite riverbank, a bear with a scorpion’s tail waded into the water to drink.

Evelyn glanced at the three sleeping bags, like cheerful caterpillars all in a row. A stranger who came upon the campsite might think this was an ordinary camping trip.

But it wasn’t.

The awful events of the last few days came crashing back to her. The Caretaker had gone silent. The train had fallen into the Gorge. Hunters were terrorizing the park.

And my uncle is dead. Now that she had a quiet moment to sit with it, she did feel something. But it was not grief. It was a little throb of anger. If her suspicions were right, Uncle Clive had something to do with the disappearance of the Vesper Stone.

Tell Jane I’m sorry. Once again she heard her uncle’s last words. The Stone! The Stone!

Evelyn’s jaw tightened with determination, and she reached for her boots. The sooner they got moving, the better. The answers she was looking for were at the hotel. She just knew it.

The others were just as eager to get back.

Jacob stirred the gray mush in his bowl. The package had said Breakfast #4 and it looked almost, but not quite, like oatmeal. “I hope we’re in time to save the people in the trees,” he said. “We have to get to the hotel.”

“We’ll make it,” Hattie said confidently. “Morsewood, the gardener, will know how to save Secretary Wing.”

Thump.

With a clatter, Evelyn’s bowl dropped to the ground. Her fingers had gone numb. She knew that name.

“Octavian Wing?” she asked very quietly. “That’s the interior secretary of Marchwild? The one we’re trying to rescue?”

“Of course it is,” Jacob said. “I’m his assistant.”

Hattie paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “He’s the old man I told you about. The old Marchwilder from the wilderness tour.” She looked puzzled. “I’m sure I said that.”

“No.” Evelyn’s voice was small and strained. She felt as if she was floating above her body. “You didn’t. You never said his name. Octavian Wing is the one who put my mother in prison.”

She could never forget that name. Octavian Wing had blamed her mother’s expedition for stealing the Vesper Stone. He was the one who had pushed so hard to convict Jane Ridgewell. In Evelyn’s head, she had built him up as an evil, menacing figure. She’d never even guessed he was the old sorcerer with the pretty robes who’d been on the train with them.

“Oh no,” Hattie whispered.

Jacob stuck his chin out. “The secretary is an honest man. He would not have someone arrested without good reason.”

“My mother didn’t steal the Vesper Stone!” she said hotly.

Jacob blinked. “Wait, your mother is Jane Ridgewell?”

“I’m Clive Ridgewell’s niece, aren’t I?” she spat at him.

“I do not know how many nieces and nephews he has!” he snapped in reply.

Hattie held up a hand. “Can everyone stop shouting for a minute? I don’t know the whole story. What happened exactly?”

Evelyn jumped in before Jacob could tell it all wrong. “Mother was the most famous adventurer in Ruava,” she said. “She used to travel the whole world on her expeditions. Sometimes she would bring back new specimens for Uncle Clive. Or presents for me.” She smiled wistfully, remembering those magical days. “But mostly she loved the thrill of being somewhere no one had ever set foot before.”

Jacob snorted. “What do you mean, no one? Every inch of Marchwild has already been explored…by Marchwilders. But I guess you don’t think they count.”

Evelyn paused with her mouth open. When he put it like that, it did sound rude. Her feelings bubbled uneasily inside her. She had always thought her mother was discovering new things. A little voice in her head whispered, What if he’s right? What if she was just a tourist?

“Well, the Middlegar Mountains are one of the most dangerous places in the world,” she said defensively. “So maybe she wasn’t the first. But not many people have climbed them.”

Jacob looked down his nose at her. “Kendra Lionheart herself climbed those mountains a hundred years ago.”

“Oh, Kendra Lionheart! I remember her,” Hattie said. “She was in the story the secretary told us.”

Evelyn ignored them both. “Anyway, there were some people who thought my mother had come to the mountains for a different reason—the Vesper Stone. The legends said it was hidden in a cave there.”

“What do you mean, some people?” Jacob leaped up. “Everyone thought so! She came to my country to find our greatest treasure—and steal it!”

Evelyn jumped up too. “No, she didn’t!”

His nostrils flared. “Kendra Lionheart hid that gem in the mountains for a reason…because it was dangerous!” he yelled. “You don’t even know the whole story! It took over the minds of kings and destroyed whole cities!”

Hattie stepped between them. “Both of you calm down! You can each tell your side. But you have to take turns.”

Evelyn kept glaring at Jacob, but she sat back down.

“Now,” Hattie asked, “did Jane Ridgewell find the Stone?”

The Marchwilder boy closed his eyes, muttering something in his own language. He took a deep breath. “I have composed myself,” he said. “I will continue with the story. Jane Ridgewell brought the Vesper Stone—except in Marchwild, we call it the Gem of the Evening—back to the Emerald Palace. They threw a huge banquet in her honor, where she promised the prime minister she would give it to our museum.”

“See! Why would she lie about that?” Evelyn demanded.

“Maybe because she got greedy.” Jacob shook his head. “But not everyone in Marchwild was happy the Gem had been found. A lot of mages wished Jane Ridgewell had not meddled with it. Secretary Wing was one of them.”

Again the funny feeling stirred inside Evelyn. Meddling sounded like something a child would do. Her mother was supposed to be an explorer. A hero. But in Jacob’s version of the story, she didn’t seem any better than Jack Brand and his poacher friends.

“But why?” Hattie asked. “What exactly does this Stone do? The secretary didn’t say.”

“Hundreds of years ago, there was a great city called Dundala, ruled by a magister. The legend says he was the one who created the Gem. But as the years went on, it began to take over his mind—and when it was finished with him, it moved on to his wife. His children. It feeds on people’s magic. And when it uses them up, they die.”

“Like a parasite!” Hattie exclaimed. “In the wilderness, there are some creatures and plants that live off of others—that’s what they’re called.”

“Exactly,” Jacob said. “Citizens who fled from Dundala said all the magisters there had gone mad. People started whispering that the city was cursed. After a while, the people of Marchwild forgot about it.” He took a deep breath. “Until the hero Kendra Lionheart came along. When she entered the lost city of Dundala, she found it overgrown with plants hundreds of feet tall. The buildings had crumbled to ruins. And the skeletons of the people were just…lying there.”

An icy shudder ran down Evelyn’s neck. No one had ever told her this story, and she was suddenly glad. She didn’t like to think about her mother risking her life for such a deadly treasure.

“She understood that something very evil had happened,” Jacob went on. “So she took the Gem from the skeleton king’s hand and buried it in a secret cave in a remote part of the mountains, where it could not tempt anyone again.”

“If the Gem of the Evening is so dangerous,” Hattie asked, “why didn’t it do anything to Kendra Lionheart?”

“The legend says she was a warrior, not a magister.” He shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t interested in her.”

Hattie turned to Evelyn. “So your mother was going to give the Vesper Stone to the museum. Then what happened?”

Evelyn wasn’t sure anymore. Not after hearing her uncle’s last words. But thinking was one thing. Saying it out loud was entirely different. Once she did, she could not go back.

“The morning after the banquet,” she said slowly, “the Stone had disappeared. When my mother realized what had happened, she knew they would think it was her fault. She tried to get out of Marchwild with her assistant, but they caught her at the border.”

It wasn’t very nice of her, but she always forgot about the assistant. He had been a forgettable kind of boy, stooped and bookish.

“That’s right!” Jacob cut in. “They were trying to sneak across—an awfully strange thing for innocent people to do. They were both arrested immediately.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, they didn’t find the Stone, did they?”

Jacob gave her a nasty look, but admitted, “The whole palace was turned upside down, but the Gem of the Evening was never seen again. Your precious uncle could have told you. He was there.”

This was it. Evelyn’s nerves fluttered. Everyone else’s secrets were out. Now it was her turn.

“The thing is…” The words stuck in her throat, but she made herself go on. “I have a secret.” Her heart thumped nervously. “A terrible one. And I think— I’m scared—”

Hattie’s eyes gleamed steadily. “Go on.”

Evelyn whispered, “Before the train fell, Uncle Clive said something to me. His last words were Tell Jane I’m sorry. And then he said, The Stone!”

“Do you mean…?” Jacob breathed.

“I think he stole the Vesper Stone,” she said all in a rush, “and let my mother take the blame for it. I think it’s here at Majestica.” She hesitated. This was the part she had not put into words yet, not even to herself, because it was the most daring idea of all. But if it was true, it explained everything. “I think my uncle never invented a magical machine. The machine…is the Stone.”

She did not expect Jacob’s reaction.

“Of course!” He paced back and forth, his purple robe whirling around his legs. “Evelyn, that’s—that’s brilliant!”

Well, she had never been called brilliant before. Evelyn’s cheeks went hot, and relief swept through her like a wave. She had half expected them to laugh at her theory.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” she said, forgetting that she and Jacob had just been shouting at each other. “My mother never came back from Marchwild, but Uncle Clive did. And a few months later, he made a big splash in all the papers with his new invention.”

Jasper Foxfire was the one who had given her the idea. It must be strange, coming from such a famous family, he had said. Why, there was that one year when your mother’s trial and your uncle’s new machine were all anyone could talk about!

Jacob raised his eyebrows. “That is an awfully big coincidence.”

“That’s what I think too,” Evelyn said breathlessly.

“And there is this—Secretary Wing was worried about more than just the unicorn,” Jacob told them. “He said he sensed something was odd about the magic in the park. He must have suspected the Stone was here too! It fits perfectly!”

A sharp voice interrupted them. “No, it doesn’t.”

They had both forgotten about Hattie. She was the only one who had not leaped up with excitement. She sat on the ground, her face like a thundercloud.

“It’s impossible,” she said stubbornly. “Mr. Ridgewell’s magical machine is famous. If there was no machine, people would—well, people would know!”

“How?” Evelyn demanded. “No one ever sees it, do they? Have you seen the Caretaker?”

Hattie opened her mouth, and then closed it again. “Well…no.”

“So you don’t know,” Evelyn said. “For all you know, it could be the Vesper Stone.”

Hattie shook her head. “But there were supplies. Big, heavy crates full of stuff. Mr. Ridgewell used to load them into the freight elevator. Everyone at the hotel knows that. If he wasn’t building something, what was it all for?”

Evelyn thought the answer was obvious enough. “To deceive all of you into thinking there was something down there! It was just an elaborate plot!”

“Ridgewell wasn’t what you think,” Jacob said. “Around the world, he had a very bad reputation.”

Hattie shoved her fists in her pockets. “I still don’t believe he lied to us.”

Evelyn made an exasperated noise. Uncle Clive had probably acted stupidly with the dragon and caused her father’s death. He had told so many lies!

Maybe it was time things changed around here.

Evelyn turned back to Jacob, giving him a solemn look. “If the Stone is here, I think it should be returned to Marchwild.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Hattie bounced up. “If you do that, the park will be ruined! The Caretaker is the power source for everything.” She made a face. “If you two are even right.”

She knows we are. Deep down, she knows it.

“Hattie, remember what the secretary told you!” Jacob pleaded. “He said there is a dark power at Majestica. The Gem of the Evening doesn’t belong here. It isn’t good for this place.”

“But it is!” Hattie spluttered. “It must be! It’s worked for years. Everyone says the park never ran so smoothly.”

Evelyn tried to reason with her. “Don’t you see? I have to fix things.” She gripped Hattie’s arm, knowing what she said next might shatter their new friendship. “I know you want to save Majestica, but what if it doesn’t deserve to be saved? My uncle made terrible mistakes here. Maybe it’s time someone made it right. If I give the Stone back, they’ll let my mother go free! I can have a family again.”

The moment the words were out, she knew they were wrong.

Hattie jerked her arm away, her eyes flashing angrily. “Won’t that be nice for you,” she spat out. “But the only family I have is this park—and you want to destroy it!”