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the island, near the leech bed.
 Cork? You up there? Remy s question floated
up to him, and he looked back down into the well,
his flashlight revealing her pale face and huge
eyes.
 I m up here, he called,  come on up.
 I didn t know there was a tunnel, she said
breathlessly as she climbed out of the well.  Hey,
it s the leech bed!
 Yes, I m sure this was how Rheims must have
received some of her visitors. He pointed at the old
dock.  That dock is in disrepair now, but it didn t
use to be I ll bet.
 Why would anyone want to come in like that?
Remy was curious.
 Maybe she had clients who didn t want to be
seen.
They heard the whining below and realized Old
Joe was now at the bottom of the well.  Come on,
let s get back. Something tells me some other
people know about this entrance too.
 Why do you say that?
 Because no one had been in the front door until
I did, yet the cellar door was opened last night. And
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someone was in the house last night, although
there were no sets of footprints near the house but
mine. He climbed back down the rungs and waited
for her to join him.  Not only that, but maybe this is
how our ghost gets in and out.
Remy looked at his face in the flashlight beam,
his features looking dark and mysterious.  Ghost?
You really think what we saw was a ghost? She
shivered in the dark tunnel and stayed close to Cork
as he led the way back.
 Of course not, I don t believe in ghosts. But
still, we saw something.
They spent the rest of the afternoon comparing
the map to the layout of the area surrounding the
shanty, and Cork studied it relentlessly, trying to
make sense of it. Finally, he stuffed it in his pocket
and went looking for Remy.
Remy was in the garden, looking at the snake
statue. She knew it had to contain the clue, but how
did it work? She had been thinking about it all
afternoon, coming back to it each time they
ventured to the other parts of the map and then
back to the hut. She knew this was on the piece she
had torn off the map and that Cork didn t know
about it...she didn t intend to tell him either. If
there really was a treasure, she wanted to be the
one to find it! She looked up when Cork rounded the
corner of the hut.
 Come on, let s go get some supper. I ve had
enough of this for today.
 All right, it s starting to get dark anyway, she
muttered with a sigh.
 So you think this is Zamballa? Cork looked at
the statue again, a speculative gleam in his eye.
 Well....yes, she admitted grudgingly.
 The ghost told me to look to Zamballa.
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Remy s eyes narrowed.  It did? You never told
me that.
He nodded.  Yes, it did. Since this is the biggest
snake around here, I m assuming it must have
something to do with this statue...just like you.
 Well, I m coming out just before dawn, she
replied with a yawn.  The poem says that the sun s
fingers will light the way...so maybe something will
happen when the sun hits the statue.
They fell in step together, each lost in their own
thoughts as they started back until Old Joe took off
at a dead run towards the north dock, baying at the
top of his lungs.
 Doesn t look like the graze slowed him down
much, muttered Remy as she followed closely
behind Cork. She still had her suspicions about the
flute and why the dog had allowed her on the island
without raising a ruckus, but Cork didn t believe in
ghosts. It stood to reason he would really think she
was crazy if she started calling the dog Argonaut.
Speaking of the flute, it was now in the leech bed
where she had flung it when she stepped out of the
water and saw the leeches attached to her skin. She
wasn t going after it either!
They broke out of the trees and saw a slender
figure in a pirogue on the other side of the
dilapidated old dock. He was bending down among
the reeds as if he was searching for something.
 Hey you...what are you doing? Yelled Cork,
pushing Remy behind him as he pointed his pistol
towards the intruder.
When he raised his head, Remy could see
beneath Cork s arm that it was the man she had
met in the store that morning...the one Burt had
called Quantraine.
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 Just looking for the stepping stones, he
drawled lazily as he stepped out of the tied off
pirogue.  Thought I might take a look around
Rheim s old place for a few minutes. He stepped
into the reeds and walked among them, then
jumped nimbly onto the shore as Remy gaped in
astonishment.
Cork scowled.  It never occurred to you to stop
at my dock and ask permission?
 I did stop, no one was there. He grinned and
tipped his black felt hat back, his graying mustache
wiggling above his narrow lips. He was a swarthy
looking man, tanned, lean and muscled as if used to
an outdoor life. It was his eyes that Remy watched
though...they were black and hard as obsidian. She
didn t trust him.
 How did you know there was another way onto
the shore? She asked, stepping out from behind
Cork.
He pinned her in his dark gaze, assessing her
once again.  I ve lived here all my life, little lady. I
know about a lot of things, even met old Rheims
when I was a youngster.
He didn t look all that old, but Remy knew looks
could be deceiving. Besides, some people were just
ageless, preserved as it were, by God knows what!
But she did envy him the knowledge of the
stones. If she had known they were there, she
might never have run into Cork yesterday and could
be doing her own investigating, minus the
embarrassing incident of the leeches. She didn t
dwell on the quicksand; that was too painful a
memory.
 I didn t figure you for a treasure hunter,
Quantraine, Cork said evenly.
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 I m not...just looking for answers. He stared
back at Cork, refusing to drop his eyes.
 Answers to what? Remy asked suspiciously.
 To unanswered questions. His reply was short
and succinct as he grinned lazily at them both.
Cork shifted his weight and put his pistol in his
belt.  I take it you know about the tunnel through
the well then?
Quantraine s eyes narrowed, but he nodded.
 Yes, Rheims used to get a lot of visitors that way.
He stepped up further on the bank, ignoring the dog
as it stared steadily at him.  Mind if I look around?
 I don t know what you re looking for, but
someone has already beat us to the punch, replied
Cork.  The place was ransacked when I went into
town to get Remy.
 Not looking for anything in particular, I just
wanted to look around a little bit.
A thought flashed into Remy s mind and she
asked,  You don t happen to have a treasure map,
do you?
He looked puzzled for a moment, then grinned
slyly.  No, I heard you have one though. You want
to let me look at it?
 I would, lied Remy,  but I don t have it
anymore. Someone stole it out of Gramma s library
last night.
 Remy! Cork shot her a warning glance.
Quantraine looked interested.  Is that right?
Now, that is something I didn t know. He gestured
towards the woods in the direction of the shanty.
 May I?
Cork hesitated, then nodded.  All right, just
don t leave the doors unlatched, I don t want snakes
inside.
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He watched Quantraine broodingly as he ambled
towards the path, seeming in no hurry. There
wasn t much point in denying him permission, they
had already done a thorough search of the hut and
turned up nothing. Feeling disgruntled anyway, he
took Remy s arm and ushered her to the cabin to
get something to eat.
They were just sitting down to chicken
sandwiches when they heard Old Joe baying once [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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