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Crown Phoenix: Night Watchman Express, Page 3

Alison DeLuca

Chapter 3

  What the Boys Discovered

  n their first day in the large house, Simon woke up early. He got out of bed and went to the window, which looked out over the side gardens. A light rain fell in a rather half-hearted way.

  Neil was still asleep in the smaller camp bed that had been brought in by George the night before. A grin spread over Simon’s face. He picked up his own pillow and threw it at Neil’s face.

  “What? What happened? What?!” Neil sat up in bed, looking wildly around the room.

  Simon fell on the larger bed where he had slept the night before, overcome with his own wit. “It was me, you idiot!” he gasped. “You should have seen –” Words failed him, and he doubled over again.

  Neil got out of bed, trying to look as dignified as one possibly can in pyjamas. “Oh, very funny – if you are six years old,” he said.

  “Come on, twit.” Simon threw his other pillow. “Let’s get dressed and explore the house. And find some food.” He rummaged through a drawer and found a shirt.

  Neil looked around. “Where are my clothes? I left them here last night –”

  “Sent down to the wash, most likely.” Simon pulled a jumper over his head.

  “Oh.” Neil tried not to show his dismay. His luggage included two other shirts and some underpants, and that was it.

  Simon threw some clothes at him. “Here you are, idiot. I’ve got loads.”

  Neil frowned. “Well, I can’t just take your stuff - ”

  Simon threatened him with another pillow. “Come on, Neil! I’d like to see the house before the parents get up and start ordering us about.”

  Neil gave up and struggled into Simon’s things. “Your parents, and that girl,” he said, his hair going every which way as he pulled a shirt over his head.

  “What girl?” Simon demanded, trying to tame his own hair at the mirror.

  “You know – that daughter. Of the bloke who used to live here – Pearson, or Grayson, or whatever his name was. Pearson, I think.”

  “Oh, her.” Simon tossed the brush to one side. “She’s just a kid; we won’t have to worry about her. She’ll try to tag along with us, maybe, but once we sit on her a bit she’ll give that up and we can do whatever we like. Look, I think the sea is just down the path at the back of the garden. Let’s grab some food and explore.”

  The house was a large one, built in the shape of a squared-off C. The long side of the house itself faced the drive and the front lawn, and the two side wings had been added by Mr. Pearson after buying the property years before, once his company had become such a success. They jutted out into the back garden and enclosed various stone courtyards adjoined by stairs and walkways to the back of the house.

  Simon and Neil, clutching a napkin filled with buns and apples, opened a glass door and crashed onto one of the courtyards. A statue of a wilting female regarded them with a baleful stare, which they ignored.

  “I hear the waves,” Simon announced. “Come on, let’s try this way. See that path over there? Think that leads to the woods? Let’s see if it continues down to the sea.”

  “Must do.” Neil picked his way past various urns and pots of well-tended flowers and bushes. “I think you’re right – the sound of the waves is in the direction. I can smell the salt in the air, too.” He lifted his head and sniffed.

  They ran across the back lawns and arrived at the wooded portion of the house. “Come on!” Simon plunged into the woods without hesitation.

  Neil followed more slowly, pausing to note where they were heading from time to time. He saw that the tree trunks were large, much larger than usual for land near salt water. “Look at that!” He pointed to one especially huge fir.

  “What about it? Do hurry up. I’m hungry.”

  They followed the path down to where it emerged from the woods. The sea lay in front of them and sparkled in the early morning sun.

  “Fantastic!” Simon whooped. “Come on, there’s a way down over here!”

  They ran over to a break in the scrubby hedge on the cliff. A series of huge, smooth stones made a steep staircase that led down to the sand below. Iron stakes had been inserted into every other stair, and a rope ran through holes on top of the stakes. Neil thought it looked like giant’s cotton thread running through several huge needles.

  Simon plunged down the steps in breakneck fashion, with Neil following more slowly behind. A stiff wind blew in their faces, but the sun promised a bright, warm day. The waves were retreating, leaving a long stretch of sand that lay wrinkled from the water. Simon bounded off the steps onto the sand, and raced over to one of the many rock pools filled from the recent high tide.

  “Gosh, come over here!” Simon yelled. Neil climbed up beside his friend and peered into the water at a pair of crabs that threatened each other. “Look at those devils,” Simon continued. “Wish we had brought some nets. Wonder if that girl has any up at the house? Well, if she doesn’t, I’ll tell Mother to tell the maid or someone to buy us some.”

  “She’ll probably have a net or two,” Neil said. He leaned forward. A pink, frilled anemone in the clear, cold water promptly folded its miniature tentacles into itself. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, and my family lives by the docks. We used to explore rock pools all the time, but that fellow is new to me. And, just look.” He pushed some seaweed to one side to reveal a small creature with bright yellow and black stripes. “Does that crab look familiar?”

  “Hmm. No,” Simon replied. Bored of watching the miniature underwater world in the tide pool, he jumped onto the sand and said, “Let’s see how far we can follow the cliff around the bend, over there.”

  “Right.” Neil jumped onto the sand and followed Simon towards the towering cliffs. They walked around some more piles of rocks. Most of them were filled with water and brightly colored creatures like the first pool the boys had explored.

  They crunched over the sand, stopping to pick up a few flat stones for skipping on the waves. Both boys removed their shoes, and Neil swung his in one hand as he breathed the salt air.

  “Nice.” Simon sniffed beside him.

  “Yes, I always miss that smell when I am at school,” Neil said.

  “Thank goodness we’re on summer break. Are you going to stay here the entire time, or will you return to the docks? And your family?”

  “We talked about that already.” Neil punched Simon’s shoulder. “I have to get back in a few weeks; I can’t just sponge off your parents all summer.”

  “Why not? They’re sponging off that Pearson fellow,” Simon said.

  “Still, I have to go and see my sisters, and my mum and dad,” Neil said.

  “I’m not going to let up on you, you know. I think you should stay the whole time.”

  “But I honestly can’t…”

  Simon lost interest in the conversation. He turned his back on Neil in mid-sentence and wandered closer to the cliff. He found a bit of driftwood and banged it against the taller rocks edging the sands, trying to break it in half. If he could split it lengthwise, it would make two good swords, he thought, and they could have a duel.

  He stopped and leaned closer to the cliff wall. “Well, that’s funny,” he said. “Look at that!”

  Neil stumbled on a sharp shell, cursed, and joined Simon by the sheer stone. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Look!” Simon pointed to the cliff face. “What are those things?”

  ‘Those things’ were a series of flat, silver circles set into the rock in the shape of a larger circle, perfectly spaced apart. There were twelve of them, and they were level with the cliff. Neil ran his hand over one and could not distinguish where they ended and the rock began.

  “Never seen anything like it,” he concluded at last. “Look – the stone itself is completely smooth and flat. It’s as if someone planed down the cliff itself and set those metal discs into the rock.”

  “But who?” Simon jabbed at the circles with one finger. Contrary to his expectations, no sec
ret door slid open to expose a secret passageway lined with overflowing treasure chests and grinning skeletons.

  “That won’t do anything.” Neil pushed Simon away. “They’re not buttons, or levers, or anything like that.”

  “How do you know?” Simon demanded.

  “They aren’t meant to move at all – see? A button would have some kind of rim or space to move in.”

  “Well, what are they for, since you’re so clever?”

  “No idea.” Neil probed the circles again and shook his head.

  Simon was bored with the puzzle. “Come on, professor, let’s go and find someplace to eat our grub. Afterwards we’ll go back up and explore the house.”

  “Wait a bit.” Neil pointed at a flat stone in front of the mysterious circle. “That bit of rock is a different color from the others near the cliff – see? It looks as if it was moved there, on purpose.”

  “Really?” Simon forgot his hunger. Without hesitation, he jumped onto the rock. Its position put him right in front of the circle; its diameter was taller than his head by about a foot. Simon spread his arms out to the sides and stared stiffly ahead, waiting for something to happen.

  Neil began to laugh. “You look just like that Da Vinci drawing,” he said.

  “Oh, you mean that one of the bloke with the lines in the geometrical figures.” Simon resumed his position, crossed his eyes, and stuck out his tongue. “How about now?”

  “Come on, let me have a go.” Neil leaped onto the rock and shouldered Simon aside. After a few good-natured shoves, Simon stepped off and watched Neil stand in one stance after another.

  “Feel any machinery or magic or anything?” he demanded.

  “Nothing.” Neil jumped back onto the sand beside Simon. “I’d really like to know who came up with the design for inlaying those discs,” he mused.

  Simon had already turned away, and he pulled out the large napkin tied around their food. “I’m famished. Let’s sit over here and–”

  There was a loud scream from the direction of the house. “What was that?” Simon forgot the stolen breakfast. “Come on, let’s go and see!”

  Neil was already running towards the steps. Together, they raced back to the house, away from the waves and silent stones.