-Chapter 1-
-Another Grave-
“So who wants to open the obviously cursed chest?” Nate stood above the recently exhumed grave, frantically sketching their most recent find in his journal. The crisp, Irish air ruffled his slowly greying hair, chilling him after a long afternoon of digging.
“Ha ha, Dad,” Cassie said from the side of the hole, “This isn’t like one of your crazy stories.” His daughter stood up, brushing the dirt from her knees and tucking her short, blonde hair behind her glasses. “Not that they didn’t sound cool,” she said, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh?” He said, resting his elbows on his knees to lean over the pit, “And what makes you think that?” He grabbed his journal again to take note of the many different locks and charms that decorated the exterior of the chest.
“Well for one,” Cassie said, walking to look over his shoulder, “Nothing’s exploded yet. We aren’t paired with sketchy, edgy mercenaries, and nobody’s been shot.” Three pokes to his side pulled his gaze away from the strange small chest filling a grave that should have held a coffin. Cassie smiled at him mischievously, “Did I miss anything?”
“Zombies.” came Elena’s voice from the examination table down the row of graves. She didn’t even look up while she sorted through the few manuscript pages they had found that lead them here.
Cassie whipped around to look at her mom, suddenly very confused, “Wait, wait wait wait. You never said anything about—”
“They weren’t zombies,” Nate scoffed, pocketing his journal, “They were the descendents of spanish conquerors who were changed by a virus, or something.” He glanced up at Elena, who had a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He sighed, “And what did we say about mentioning that stuff?”
Cassie groaned and rolled her eyes, “Not in public places, with people we don’t know, or where secret agents could take us away where we never see the light of day ever—”
“Cassie,” Nate said warningly, “I’m serious.”
She groaned, “I get it Dad. Serious adult stuff I can’t handle, or even be trusted—”
“Cassie.” Nate sharpened his voice. She flinched and met his eyes.
“Sorry dad,” she said, “I get it. It’s just,” she paused, “Come on, who would actually believe those stories if you told them?”
Thankfully, Elena had came over and wrapped her arms around Cassie’s shoulders. “There were a lot of people that got involved besides the ones we mentioned.” Elena ruffled Cassie’s hair and leaned to look into the hole. “Besides, the one thing we learned,” she reached over to poke Nate, “is that the past can always catch up with us.”
Nate laughed ruefully, “Now don’t jinx us in front of the obviously voodoo laced treasure.” He leaned back and called out to their small crew, “Hey Charles! Come get a few shots of this.”
“Yes sir!” came the excited call back. Charles half ran, half skipped over, camera in hand. Nate chuckled at their young intern’s excitement. Charles’ childlike exuberance clashed wildly with his college running back frame and close cut hair.
Nate turned back to their find, camera sounds rapid firing all around him. Elena moved out of their crew’s way and crouched next to him. “So,” she said, leaning on him, “Wanna explain why it’s cursed?”
Nate laughed, “Well besides the fact that this thing has every known deterrent against the supernatural possible?” He pointed at the bands wrapping the chest. “See these? They’re mostly rusted away because they’re iron, not steel. And these branches?” He gestured at some remarkably preserved branches woven between the bands, “That’s rowan, holly, and St. John’s Wort.” He brushed his fingers along the bottom of the “grave” and rubbed his fingers together. “And the whole thing has been practically buried in salt. Probably why the branches are so well preserved.” He stopped to jot down everything in the fresh journal he bought just for this dig.
Elena sniffed, “You two smell that?”
Nate took a deep breath, “Yeah, that’s weird.” He leaned a bit further over the open grave and waved his hand to move the air around. There was a dull smell in the air, very familiar but not enough to place it.
“Yeast,” Elena said suddenly, “Think there was bread in there too?”
Nate scratched his scruff thoughtfully, “Well add that onto the supernatural danger pile. People used to put fresh bread out to keep the local fairies happy. Not exactly a great sign considering our location.”
“Ooooo,” Cassie said, waving her arms dramatically, “Scary fairies.”
A husky laugh drew their attention to a well dressed man standing next to the examination table. Nate recognized the owner of this little graveyard, Ray, from his mountainous form and gravelly voice, “Don’t make fun of the fairies kid. Never make fun of the fairies.” He leaned against a sturdy light post, which groaned slightly under his bulk. “They are vindictive, manipulative, and more than happy to steal away kids like you.”
Cassie groaned quietly, “Seriously?”
Ray just chuckled, “Stay in Ireland long enough lass, and you’ll hear about them.”
“Yeah, outside of a bar maybe,” Cassie grumbled under her breath.
“Well,” Nate said, putting a warning hand on Cassie’s shoulder, “Whoever buried this sure didn’t want any trouble.” Nate chuckled lightly. Back in the day, this probably would have been a sure sign of immediate danger, either from the chest itself or a gun to his head. It was nice to be able to just enjoy things nowadays. “You get all the angles Charles?” he said, turning to their intern, who was talking on the phone.
“Got it all good, boss!” he said. Seriously, his demeanor always defied expectations for his build. “Oh by the way, someone named Dr. Halverson is on the line, says he’d like a favor.”
“Of course he would,” Drake said, reaching out for the phone. James was a symposium leader in just about every archeological conference around the world. Great guy, always up to date on everything, owns three museums outright, and gave Nate some of the best head starts he’d ever gotten. Always came with strings though.
“Hey James,” Nate said, putting the most cheer he could with literal treasure sitting unopened in front of him.
“Aww, you’d think the devil himself called to spit in your coffee.” It was James all right, quirky inflections and everything.
“Close enough, you know exactly where I am right now!” Nate teased.
“Yeah, yeah, but hey listen,” his voice became excited, speeding up as usual, “I’ve got two empty time slots at AP&G that I need filled, and every call for papers we’ve put out have gotten zip, nada.”
Nate thought for a second. AP&G was the next conference in DC right? And that was…
“James! That’s, like, three days from now!”
“I know! That’s why I need you! You’re the only one I know that has anything new from the past year. And I know how quickly you can prepare things.”
“James we’re in Ireland!”
“I can cover everything!” The desperation came through harder than Nate expected.
“What time slot James?” Nate said warily.
A heavy sigh came through the phone. “Our keynote speaker had an emergency and can’t make it.”
Nate let out a heavy breath. “Ohhhhhhh James.” He hung his head and ran some quick plans through his head. He knew how important this was to James. This was literally the largest conference on anything to do with a dig site in the world, but a keynote address, him? Oh he could do it. But this was a little more than a favor. He looked at Elena, who had stepped over to listen beside him. She was practically beaming and giving him a thumbs up. Figures, she’d been trying to get him to one of these things for years.
“Alright James, tell you what,” he said, smirking at Elena, “You get me and my family down there, and a rock concert of some kind for us, and I’ll go.”
The squeal of joy made Nate pull the phone away quickly. Elena just laughed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll get right on that. I’ll get your tickets to you asap, three right?”
Nate worked out the details with him, quickly going through their recent discoveries for ideas. There were plenty, but how in the world could he make it interesting for literal scientists? He certainly didn’t have any degrees in this stuff. Who knows what actual researchers thought about?
But he could worry about that in a bit.
“Alright then, now that that’s out of the way, let's get this thing out and hope the bottom doesn’t fall off.”
If there was one change that grated on Nate, it was the extensive documenting that they had to do now. In days better left in the past, a simple sketch in a journal was enough for him. A tradition that he still held dear after all this time. But now with the need to publish results in credible journals, it felt like every splinter needed a name, number, and birthday. Never mind the fact that they probably unearthed a literal trove of artifacts, but there would be some reviewer who wanted to know everything about the sets of scratches on the outside wood. Needless to say, Nate was itching to open the chest. But first things first.
“Alright Cassie, rapid fire for me.” Nate said, handing a voice recorder to Cassie.
“Ok,” she started, taking a deep breath, “so besides all of the supernatural stuff, the iron is still mostly flat, even with the rust, so it was well made, probably a wealthy guy. More recent too by the style of construction. The headstone says 1578, which … is maybe possible? Seems a long time for plants and stuff to stay recognizable. That would put this in the Elizabethan Era, which, Idunno, may have something to do with their superstition? Either way, rich guy, buried in a grave spot, probably pirates.”
Nate beamed at his daughter, for all her stubbornness she was good at this. “Good work! Well, we knew it was pirates for a while, based off of the priest’s journal.” He nodded towards Ray, who just gave him a thumbs up. “Never thought pirates would legitimately buy a grave plot though. Not really their style.” He rubbed his hands excitedly. Even after all this time, here he was sitting with a bunch of pirate treasure. Ironic in so many ways. I should send a picture to Sully. Give all of us a good laugh, he thought.
“Ok I’m done waiting,” he said, moving to the front of the chest. “Let’s see what we actually found.” Rapid fire clicks from the camera clashed horribly with the squealing joints on the chest. Nate looked excitedly into the chest to find…
A journal. “W- wait,” Nate said. His mind flashed quickly to the past. This was way too familiar. He quickly scooped up the journal and started pacing.
“A book?” Cassie sputtered behind him. “Pirates contacted a Catholic priest in hiding and spent a literal boatload of gold to bury a book?”
Nate wasn’t listening anymore.
I write this in the hope that we can be forgiven. May the Almighty grant us pardon for our sins and the dealings we had with them. I fear we may be too late, but what is done is done. Our contract is broken and our chains have been sealed away. Thomas is dead, his blood is on my hands. If for nothing else I must write the events of these forsaken months for his sake. If Her Majesty finds this, know that I did what I must to protect our lives. Though I fear my deceptions are not enough. To any who read this henceforth, know that you hold all of England, nay, all you hold dear on a knife’s edge. Pray do not make the same mistakes we did.
The Fey are real, and they are not to be trusted.
A forsaken man,
Francis Drake
Nate slammed the journal shut.
“Elena pack up, we’re done here.”
“Wait you were serious?” Cassie stood framed in the doorway of Nate’s hotel room. He was halfway done with his and Elena’s suitcases, Drake’s journal open on the side of the bed. Nate sighed heavily. He had hoped Elena could handle this conversation.
“But we were right!” Cassie said emphatically, “Pirates buried some huge secret in an Irish grave to hide something from the British Crown in plain sight! What if there’s more here? Are we going to just leave?”
“Yes,” Nate said with as much finality as he could. He finished folding the last few shirts and closed the suitcase. He turned to see Cassie holding her palms out in her way of saying, “What the heck Dad?” Nate closed the journal and waved it at Cassie. She knew their stories already, no point in sugarcoating this. “The pirate who wrote this doesn’t do anything halfway. Any hints, secrets, or treasure he has hidden are much better off staying that way. Just looking for whatever is hidden in here will definitely be dangerous, and most likely illegal. I made a promise not to do that anymore. Your mom and I both.”
“But you don’t know that!” She said, stepping into the room. “You yourself said that Drake was willing to lie about all kinds of things! This could be a chance to find out what really happened back then! This has to be why they hid it.”
Nate slammed the book against his hand. “This is a trap.” Cassie flinched, and stepped back towards the door. Oh good job Nate, you’ve definitely gotten better at holding your temper. He took a few deep breaths, and made a conscious effort to smile at Cassie. “Come sit for a sec,” he said, patting the less crowded part of the bed. She hesitated for a second, but still came over.
Nate let himself down on the bed, and put his arm around Cassie. Now how to say this next part. “So, uhm, you pretty much know all of our stories by heart right? The crazy ones?”
Cassie just nodded.
Nate sighed, peeking at the signature again. It was definitely Drake’s. He’d memorized that flowing script ages ago. He’d never mistake it. “If this had been any other pirate. I would have jumped on this in a heartbeat. But this is Sir Francis Drake,” He bounced the journal in his hands. “I’ve seen dozens of people die chasing his treasures.” He squeezed Cassie’s shoulder a little harder. “I don’t want to see that again.”
“But,” Cassie hesitated, “To not even want to read it? Or let anyone else read it? Aren’t you curious at all?”
Nate took a deep breath. “You have no idea how much I want to read this.” He looked directly into Cassie’s eyes. “And that’s what scares me the most.”
Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but a surprise hug cut her off. Elena wrapped Cassie up in a bear hug and moved her over to squeeze next to Nate. He chuckled, “You know, there’s plenty of room for everyone here.” Elena only responded by leaning on him harder, dragging Cassie with her. Nate just chuckled again and drew his family into a big hug.
They spent a moment in each other’s embrace, Nate feeling the tension leaving the room. He could feel Cassie squirming a bit, being a teenager. Heaven help them, she was so much like him. Then again that also meant…
Cassie burst out laughing. “Dad! No no no! Stop!” She keeled over as Nate tickled her side. Elena joined in laughing even as Cassie’s squirming threw her off the front of the bed. “Ha, ahahaha, Mom help!” Cassie called out as Elena laughed from the floor. Nate had to roll backwards over the bed to avoid Elena’s lunging attack, landing on his feet ready to dodge again.
The next few minutes were filled with laughing, running, and tripping over half-packed luggage as Nate tried to avoid a coordinated attack from his wife and daughter. A lingering thought of the plane they had to catch moved in the back of Nate’s mind, but right now, there were more important things to consider. Like how much he had to get Elena back for that well aimed pillow.
A few flying pillows, full body tackles, and tactical tickles later, the clock reminded them all that planes don’t wait for family bonding experiences. Elena gave Cassie one more hug before sending her to get her luggage ready.
Nate zipped up the last of their suitcases and sat on the bed with a sigh. Elena sat next to him and bumped him with her shoulder. “Hey,” she said, inviting conversation in their weird way with a smile.
“Hey,” he returned, bringing her into his arms gently. She twisted her head to look up at him expectantly. Thank goodness there was at least someone he could be completely honest with. “Elena what do I do?” he finally said.
“With what?” she said playfully.
“I… well, with this journal, with Cassie, I… what if there’s… I don’t want to…” Elena pinched his lips closed and moved up to face him.
“What’s really going on?” she said knowingly.
Nate took a deep breath, “I don’t want to go back to before. I’ve done it once already, and this is just begging me to do that.” He picked the journal up from the end table. He turned to the first page to read the signature again. Francis Drake, a man he stole a name and a lot of treasure from. And here he was again, tempting him with another.
Elena squeezed his arms gently and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Is it though? We are definitely not the same people as back then.” She traced her finger along the signature, seeming nostalgic in her tone. “And even if this journal does have a treasure waiting in it, haven’t we found a good way of getting them?” she said, gesturing around their motel room.
Nate looked around and remembered their most recent adventures. A lost city ruin in the Amazon, a new dig site in northern India, and they were still bringing things up from the shipwreck in Malaysia. And all without any life threatening adventures, with the exception of a few broken bones when Cassie decided to be Tarzan for a day. She was so much like him in some ways. He couldn’t help but teach her the right way to swing from vines after that. Even with Elena screaming, “She’s still in a cast!”
He looked back at the journal, then to Elena, “Promise you won’t let me go wild again?”
She smiled and hugged him close. “I promise.”
A text buzzed his leg.
James:
Got you a rock concert. New group. Popular. Young. Might be good friends for Cassie :)
Elena raised an eyebrow at that, laughing slightly. Nate chuckled too.
DC was a long way away. He looked at the journal one last time. He’d had far worse reading material before. If he even got to read it first, judging by Cassie’s reaction and Elena’s playful tugs. Nate laughed and kissed her. The best part about this new life? He knew he had the time.
“Wow,” Nate said, stretching as much as he could in the rental car. The flight to DC had been long, but James had really splurged on them. Beds on a plane. When did those become a thing?
“I have to admit, this one takes the cake.” He said, bookmarking his place in Drake’s journal.
Cassie all but launched herself into the front seat. “Reallywhatdoesitsaycomeondadtellme!”
“Seatbelt young lady.”
Click. “So? New treasure, new adventure? Where are we going next?”
Nate rubbed his chin, “Nowhere, if we can believe this.” Fey? Magic? Even for Sir Drake, this was a little past his believable normal. He checked his phone for the fifth time this hour, looking for the lab results on the chest. If they could just get the carbon dating on it done… well, even then it was hard to believe what he had been reading.
Drake had found Avalon. Or at least its front door. “A hidden, highly advanced city is normal. Honestly, I almost expect them at this point. There’s enough examples. But he’s describing actual fairies. Human sized butterfly wings and all. Krakens, sirens, dragons. There’s too many specific details about creatures.”
He could feel Cassie bouncing in her seat. Nate turned his head to halfway face her in his seat. “No, I haven’t seen any more references to them using magic.”
“Aww. No more laser beams?”
Nate rubbed his eyes, “He doesn’t say much about it. His whole point of writing this was to teach people to avoid magic. He was absolutely terrified while writing this.”
“Wouldn’t mind some dowsing right now,” Elena grumbled from the driver’s seat.
Nate rested his hand on her leg, trying to comfort her, “The airline said they know where our luggage is.”
“Your presentation is tomorrow.”
“I still have my laptop,” he said placatingly.
She glared at him sidelong, “You are not giving a keynote address in that.”
Nate looked down at his khakis and button up. There were still a few dirt patches from Ireland on his sleeves. “Well nobody can say I don’t look the part.” He smirked back at her hardening glare, giving Cassie a high five.
“We’re finding you a suit.”
“Where are we going to find a tailored suit at 5:00 on a Monday?”
“We’re finding you a suit.”
“How-” Nate’s phone buzzed. He quickly looked, but it wasn’t the lab.
James: I heard the flight lost your
luggage. Is everything ok?
Nate: Yeah we’re all fine. They
know where it all went.
James: Have everything you
need for tomorrow?
Nate: I’ve got my laptop, but
all my suits were in our carry ons.
James: I’m so sorry Nate. I can’t
help but feel responsible. Give me
a sec.
James: Alright, I’ve got you a fitting
appointment up town in half an hour.
Can you get here by then?
Nate looked at the address of the shop. How in the world had he gotten an appointment that fast? He hadn’t even had time to think of a response! His mind flashed back involuntarily to his shady past. He shook his head. James wasn’t that kind of guy at all. Well connected yes, but he was a horrible liar.
“So uh, James came through… again.”
“Oh?”
“He got me a suit fitting at a shop up town, in like half an hour.” He said, plugging the store into maps.
A strained grunt was Elena’s only response.
Nate reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “We can make this work. You’re meeting with your friends in an hour right?” He took a quick look at the map. “You can drop me off at the shop and still have plenty of time to get to the cafe.”
“Uh, what about me?” Cassie said.
Oh right. He was supposed to take her to the mall. He grumbled as he ran a few different scenarios in his head. Knowing Cassie, she’d be bored out of her mind in both situations. Elena was going to be a few hours with her friends. A suit fitting didn’t take that long, did it?
“Uh, Cassie can come with me-” she let out a resounding sigh, “- and afterwards we can still go to the mall! We’ll take a taxi there, or it’s a nice enough day out. We all need to stretch our legs after that flight.”
Cassie sighed again. Nate turned to see Elena’s your funeral look, before turning to Cassie. “It shouldn’t take that long. And who knows, maybe you’ll … find a dress you like?” Elena gave a short laugh and stole a glance at Nate. Yeah, this was well out of his depth. Cassie just raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, sure Dad. I’ll go with you.” She said, rolling her eyes, “But we’re going to the mall right after, right?”
“Right after,” he said, looking back to the map. “Should be right around here.”
Elena grunted and pulled into a metered stall. “I’ll drop you off here. See you at five.” She smiled and gave him a quick kiss.
Nate stepped out onto the busy curb, Cassie right behind him. She waved goodbye as Elena shoved her way back into DC traffic. Now where was this shop? He checked that Cassie was following him, and started down the road with purpose. It should be right around…
“Uh, Dad?” Cassie said, staring at a storefront.
“Oh hey you found… it.” He stared in shock at the storefront. No, this wasn’t a store. Stores had racks of clothes to pick from. You could be in and out of a store in 10 minutes if you knew what you wanted. This was not a store. Perfectly tailored dresses stood on decorative pedestals, with carpeted walkways meandering between the displays. This was a … a… dealership, a showroom, a museum. But the blue dot and sign said he was in the right spot.
“Huh,” was all he managed to get out.
“Yeah, uh,” Cassie said, looking around quickly, “Can I… go to that cafe over there?”
“No, no,” Nate said, interrupting her, “I’m not going in there myself.”
“I really don’t think-”
“Come on,” Nate said, opening the door.
“I- ugh.” Heavy footfalls followed him through the door into what he could only describe as the most fitting atmosphere he’d ever seen. Gentle jazz flowed through hidden speakers, and he caught the occasional floral scent from different displays as he walked toward the front counter. If it wasn’t for the register, it might as well have been a reception desk. He could suddenly smell himself a lot better. This was going to go so well.
A cloth partition swished gently as a young woman walked out of the back area. Her chin length hair bounced as she made her way to the counter.
“Hello sir! How may I help you?” Her voice betrayed a nervousness behind a classic customer service smile.
“Uh, hi,” Nate managed to respond, “Is this the Carousel Boutique?”
“Yes, it is.” came the short reply. Not very talkative huh?
“So I think someone named James Halverson made an appointment for me?”
Her eyes widened suddenly, “Oh. Oh! Mr. Drake?”
Nate relaxed a little bit. He wasn’t in the wrong store. Not store. Whatever. “Yes that’s me. Sorry that I’m, uh-”
“Oh no, no,” the girl waved emphatically with both arms, “Mr. Halverson explained everything. Please, right this way.” She walked out from behind the counter and pulled the curtain back. “My name is Coco Pommel, and I’ll be your designer today.”
Wait, what?