“Here it is,” I said, as I moved to the back of the chair and picked the object up. It was a long and heavy chain, which slipped easily through my fingers. “This is treasure indeed.”
Fence clapped his hands and laughed aloud. “I knew we should find it. What’s that on the chain?” he asked, his cheeks red as apples in the firelight.
“It’s a pendant, a medallion, a golden medallion covered in precious gems,” said I, examining it. “There is something engraved on it. A strange-looking bird. Come see.”
Fence studied it carefully. “It’s a bird on a bed of flames, just like the flames of this fire.” He turned it over and over again.
“The engraving seems familiar. I’m sure I once knew what the bird represents, but have forgotten. It must be worth a fortune.”
“We should put it back now, Robin.”
“Don’t be daft. We should swipe it, swipe it and run.” I grinned. My wickedness was rising fast, with its old whoosh and flash hardly tarnished. “If we ever get back to England, or even to Virginia, we’ll be rich as Croesus.”
“It isn’t ours to take,” said Fence flatly.
“We can bolt with it fast. I’m good at that.”
“You seem to forget we were led here. The old man wanted us to come or we’d never have found the entrance. He invited you into the labyrinth, you told me so. We’re sort of his guests. He put his trust in us. We should leave the necklace where we found it.”
“That would mean we’d made so much effort, for such small reward.”
“Virtue is its own reward,” Fence replied smugly. As if I didn’t know he’d been as enthusiastic as I was at the thought of treasure.
“You’re not so virtuous. You’ve lied before, mostly for my sake. What’s the difference between lying and thieving?”
“Quite a bit. My lies saved you once or twice, but without really hurting anyone. No one, as I know of, was ever hanged for a fib or two told in service of a friend. Stealing, on the other hand, is a capital offence.”
I sniffed. Fence was too perfect for his own good. I could almost see a halo above his head. What had he thought we were going to do with treasure once we found it, if not nick it? What was the point of reading all those emblems, of solving all those ciphers, of risking the wrath of Scratcher, otherwise?
I asked him. His answer was plain enough. “I didn’t think it would belong to anyone. This does. It doesn’t seem like stealing if it’s buried or shipwreck booty, if it once belonged to people who are long gone. They wouldn’t miss it. Stealing something owned by a living person is unforgivable, in my book. My own inheritance, the farm and all the sheep, was stole from me by my stepfather. I can never forget it. And not only that,” he added. “If we take the necklace, the old man will surely find us. He could be somewhere hidden, watching us this very minute. In fact, this could be a test.”
I snorted with derision and we began to argue. We almost came to blows. Fence knocked the medallion out of my hand and onto the floor. I raised a closed fist to punch him, but dropped it instantly. What was I doing, fighting with my only friend? And as it happened, in a certain way Fence was right. This medallion did belong to someone. If we took it now, its owner would almost certainly follow us. It wouldn’t be hard for him to catch us, one way or another, and then we’d have a really slippery mess to slide our way out of. This wasn’t like grabbing a piece of pie or loaf of bread off the barrows, and that had been reckless enough. This was something worth a king’s ransom, and we would almost certainly be hunted down for it.
But I was still fixed on the idea of possessing it. Its brilliant colours glittered behind my eyes when I shut them. It was the closest I’d ever been to riches. There must be a way to nick it and its heavy gold chain without getting my hand chopped off in the process. After all, what did the old man need it for, here on an island, miles from anywhere? I wasn’t doing him any real harm. I, on the other hand, planned to return to England. The medallion still lay on the ground. I went down on my knees, as if worshipping it. My fingers crept towards it. I took no responsibility for them. They were acting of their own accord. Soon they caught and clutched it.
“Stop that, Robin,” Fence said sternly. “It’s staying here.”
Hell’s Bells. But I swallowed my anger. I might not get it now but I’d figure out a solution and act on it. Next time, if Fence was determined to stay saintly, I’d come alone. I’d leave him polishing his halo.
Rather angrily, I slung the flaming bird and chain back on the chair, where they dangled in all their golden glory. But then, unable to resist, I picked the damn thing up again.
“Robin?”
“What is it now?”
“I can hear heavy, raspy breathing. Not you or me. A wild beast. Or someone old.”
I dropped the medallion. We turned tail. After we scrambled, or rather tumbled, from the rocks to the shore,
Fence stopped dead. I looked where he was looking and saw something etched deep into the wet sand:
UKQ DWRA YKIA PK REOEP IA
BNKI PDA IAOOWCA K* PDA PNAA
XQP PDKQCD EI BNWEH W*Z KHZ
ZK *KP OPAWH IU CKHZ
“What’s that?” Fence yelled. “It looks like a spell.”
“Sh,” I whispered. “I’ve no idea. And I’m not stopping to find out. There are large footprints around it. You won’t stop either if you want to keep your guts and gizzard intact. Come on.”
I gave him a shove to get him started again. He shrieked. We ran for our lives.