The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: Read online

  I felt a surge of disappointment. I enjoyed time with the Graf. Besides, I didn’t want to go back inside the castle. It was full of lies and confusion.

  “You shouldn’t be so far from the palace alone; Nico would be most upset. It’s getting dark. So many things to be afraid of,” Henri scolded.

  I looked up sharply, wondering if that was some sort of warning.

  “Yes, you’re right, but I had nothing to fear with my rescuer here to protect me.” I smiled at Viktor.

  Out of the corner of my eye I caught a heated flash pass across Henri’s face. “Well, all the same,” he said, reaching his arm out to me, “let’s be on our way back.”

  Viktor lifted me onto the back of the Comte’s horse.

  “I trust you can find your way back to the palace,” Henri said to Viktor.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you for returning our precious Princess to us. We are forever indebted to you and your family. I know you’ll be journeying home soon to wed the beloved Principessa di Borbone, but Maria has suggested you join us again in three days’ time for dinner.”

  I saw a moment of pain flicker in Viktor’s eyes and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned a fiancée, but that was ridiculous. Why would he tell a stranger something like that?

  Henri went on as if enjoying the Graf’s discomfort.

  “I know my Sapphira would like that. Wouldn’t you, darling?”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  Viktor suddenly looked angry, and I watched him straighten his shoulders. Even from up on the horse, Viktor seemed massive.

  “Well, not to worry. I’m no longer betrothed. I’m staying in the area, and I have plans to speak with Maria and Nico in the morning. I shall court Sapphira.”

  All at once my pulse raced and I bit my lip.

  “Really? Good luck!” Henri said, driving his heels into the horse without even waiting for a response.

  I couldn’t be sure if Henri was upset or just bored by Viktor’s proposal, but I suddenly wondered if he was the man I’d eavesdropped on, the one Sapphira feared. I thought of jumping from the galloping horse. No, that was silly, but Viktor now wanted to marry the Princess?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “You’re up and dressed early this morning, Your Serene Highness.”

  “Yes, Lisabetta and Chloe were just in.”

  “I’ve brought you crêpes, your favourite.”

  The enticing aroma of pancakes and honey caught my nose, and my tummy betrayed me with a loud groan.

  Anais smiled and began to fold the quilts on the bed.

  “Sit and eat, Mademoiselle.”

  I took a seat as instructed, shoving the first bite in my mouth. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. “I’d like to take a ride into town today. How would I go about setting that up?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me. “Didn’t anyone tell you? I’m afraid we’ve been given orders that you’re not to leave your apartments yet, Mademoiselle.”

  “Why is that? I’d like to speak to Maria, then,” I said, a little more than annoyed.

  “Your mother? I’m sorry, Princess, her disposition is grave. She’s barricaded herself inside her rooms. And Monsier Lamentz is away from the palace for the night.” She headed for the door. “I’ll tell him as soon as he returns tomorrow.”

  I heard a key turn in the door lock as she left. Much to my dismay, I realized she’d locked me in. Was it the water incident, or had I now done something else to deserve to be confined?

  Panic twisted in my belly. How the hell would I get home? Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I tried a breathing exercise. It wasn’t working. I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back against the soft mattress.

  What was the bright side? At least I could use the next couple of days to read the diary without having to play make-believe over dinner. I climbed off the bed and pulled the book from the desk.

  3 August, 1857

  I was forced to speak with the snake at the last dance, where he curiously asked about Mr. Ferris. I dare not think it has something to do with the late-night visit. I can’t contemplate how it would even be possible for him to know of my father’s chamber or the hidden package from the Ferris family. Sometimes I wonder if he had something to do with my father’s untimely death. I am fretful he must spy on us to know all he does. I suspect that his delusions of marrying me are cold and calculated. Something tells me his obsession has less to do with me and more to do with finding the purple sapphire. I’ve heard whispers that it has magical powers, giving one power over time. Whatever he is plotting, I wish Charles would return and crush it.

  Pacing back and forth, I held the book down, pondering the purple sapphire. I felt for Gigi’s ring in my pocket. Did it have something to do with what happened to me? I leaned lazily against the fireplace and nearly fell over when a small passage opened up.

  A secret tunnel. I took a step, but it felt cold and dank, and I recoiled.

  Come on, Sophie, or Sapphira, or whoever you are, I goaded myself, embrace your adventurous side. Grabbing the candle off the mantel, I headed in. Every few steps or so, there were holes or slats that allowed me to peer into the hall. I peeked out the third one. I was momentarily blinded as my eyes fought to adjust to the change in light. Feeling carefully for any steps or holes, I walked on and came up against a wall. There was only one way to go now, left. It was eerie pacing down a hidden corridor.

  I had no idea where I was going, but I began to hear a muffled male voice speaking. I was intrigued. Henri? The voice grew louder, but I was still too far away to distinguish words. I was concentrating too hard on listening and not enough on where I was walking. The stone grew slick, and I slipped, banging my already bruised head on the ground.

  I awoke, unsure how long I’d been out.

  I heard a woman cry out. “I’m sorry, Monsieur!”

  My hands were numb, but I stood and followed the distressed voices. I noticed a pinhole of light piercing the darkness and peered through. I saw a petite, dark-haired girl in a maid’s uniform; the duster in her hand trembled ever so slightly.

  “I’m sorry, Monsieur,” she mumbled, head down, “Lisabetta had already sent word.”

  Someone grabbed her by the arms. My head buzzed from the fall. Why hadn’t I been more careful?

  “Salope,” the exasperated voice rang out, sending chills dancing down my spine. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded very much like the man I’d spoken to when I’d first awoken. The man I’d thought was Nick. I turned to go, and then I distinctly heard a slap. I whipped my head back.

  “Je suis désolée. I didn’t—” The petite girl, whom I suddenly recognized as Chloe the curious chambermaid, was cut off as the cruel man ripped the top of her uniform open.

  She screamed.

  Confused, I stepped back, covering my mouth. What had I stumbled upon? They moved slightly. A large piece of furniture now blocked even more of my view.

  “What have I told you?” he bellowed.

  “Oui,” the girl sobbed. “I will remember.”

  “Yes, you will, putain!

  A whimper emerged from the girl.

  “You will remember your place.”

  He pushed her to her knees, and I heard the hurried sounds of him clumsily fumbling to unfasten his pants.

  I instinctively pressed my thighs tight together. No wonder Chloe seemed so nervous, asking so many questions. Was she flagrantly compelled to spy for this beast? Unable to bear witness any longer, I stumbled backward, colliding with the wall and knocking the candle out.

  I forced my numbed mind to think. How do I get out of here? The light from the hallway was dim, and the gloomy darkness made it hard to judge distance. The wall rounded into a curve at the end of the corridor; I bumped into it, let out a yelp and raced down the hall in the direction I’d come from. At least I hope
d it was. All I could do was pray that the heartless swine was too encompassed in his ecstasy to have heard the candle hit the ground.

  I returned to the bedroom and sat shivering on the stone floor, clutching the book between my knees, trying to get warm after the shock. My knees and head hurt from falling, and I thought I likely would never be warm again.

  Rising to my feet, I licked the scratch on my hand and noticed for the first time the little bits of cobweb stuck to me. Aside from the webs and a little water, the passage seemed to be in use. As I looked down at the little brown diary, I felt a strange déjà-vu sensation pass through me. I gently opened the book, tucking the map I’d recently discovered tight to the spine in the back to keep it from falling out. I rubbed my hands over my face several times, mindlessly biting my lower lip, thinking of the possibilities. I skimmed through the previous ten entries, leaving a dirt smudge on the last one before closing the book and sliding it carefully back into the drawer.

  Feeling filthy both inside and out, more from the scene I’d just witnessed than from the cobwebs, I headed for the bathroom, where I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Damn it! I’d rubbed dirt on my face, but what was more disconcerting to me still were the golden ringlets. How was any of this possible? My mind was still pondering the puzzle of my chameleon appearance when Lisabetta showed up. I swore under my breath. But at least it wasn’t Chloe.

  She made herself busy dabbing at the dirty spots on my dress, but she said nothing. Laundry was no easy task, and I suddenly felt guilty for my careless wandering. Yet she said nothing, as if she were used to the Princess using those passageways.

  Once she left, I checked the door again. Unlocked. God bless Lisabetta! I was getting the hell out of there, but first I pulled the diary back out and flipped the page. I wanted to know more about the man referred to as “the snake.” Previously, the writing had been neat and circular, rounded and upright, as though written with care, but the last entry was fluid and scribbled, as if written hastily. Something upsetting must have happened. I could relate to the feeling. It was dated as four days later.

  I attempted to warn Mother, but she refuses to hear me. She listens to nothing I say, dismissing my “overactive imagination.” Imagine, I am eighteen and she dismisses me as if I were a silly child. The only way to survive will be to go to the village. The old alchemist Rochus must know of this purple sapphire. If it holds half the power William says it does, then perhaps it can save me.

  The chill of the diary’s words churned in my belly. Rochus—that name was so unique. Where had I heard it before? I needed to find this man, but where could he be found? I double-checked the entry—the village.

  I headed for the desk, returning the diary to its spot just as Anais returned carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Hadn’t I just finished breakfast not that long ago?

  I walked to the balcony door, forming a plan. Spinning on my heels, I faced Anais with a sudden idea.

  “I believe the Graf of Württemberg is joining us for dinner again tonight. Would it be possible to speak to him before then?”

  “I’m very sorry, Mademoiselle, but the Graf has returned to Württemberg.” She looked at my face and frowned. “You just missed him. He received an urgent telegram from his family and declined our invitation.”

  Now who would help me?

  Anais gave me a pitying look. “Should I have woken you?”

  “No, Anais, that’s fine.”

  “I fear I have more bad news. Monsier Lamentz has also sent word that he has had to extend his trip, so he’ll not be returning to the palace for dinner tonight either. I’m sorry, Mademoiselle. Perhaps you would like me to send a message to one of your friends that you will join them? Lady Bianca’s sent several invitations while you’ve been incapacitated.”

  This was a new twist. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave?” The words slipped out before I had time to really think about what I was saying.

  Anais pursed her lips, letting out a muffled noise. “Oui. That’s correct, forgive me. I spoke out of turn. I just thought… It seemed like you were feeling better.”

  I quickly recovered. “I am. I am feeling better. That was a very good idea. I’d like some fresh air. I’ll start with a ride into town.”

  “Mademoiselle, but why would you go into town?”

  “Anais, where is Gabriella?” I said quietly, feeling Gigi’s ring in my pocket. Should I try to convince her of my true identity?

  Her eyes dropped to her shoes. “Gabriella is out. I really don’t have the authority to—”

  Perfect. I decided a change of tactics might be necessary and mustered up my haughtiest tone.

  “Please don’t argue with me. Make the arrangements, or I’ll send word to my brother that I’m a prisoner in my own home.”

  Her eyes widened and then lowered as she crossed the floor.

  “I’ll just do your hair then,” she said, going to work.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she braided and pinned gems in my locks. I felt guilty for putting her through this, but I needed answers.

  “I’ll be back to escort you as soon as the arrangements are complete.”

  Less than an hour later I was led to a dazzling blue-and-silver carriage. If I’d had any doubts before as to the year, they were dispelled as the footman assisted me into it. The scenery was beautiful and helped to distract me from thoughts of being caught, but my nerves still jittered as we pulled into the village. I asked the footman to wait for me while I browsed the market.

  “Of course, Mademoiselle,” he responded.

  I paused for a moment before walking away. Something about that voice sounded familiar.

  After getting puzzled looks from three different people I grew pensive. Perhaps people recognized me as the Princess. What had I been thinking? Like there was going to be a giant sign that flashed above Rochus’ house. Returning to the carriage defeated, I overheard a man call to the footman.

  “Enzo, wait.”

  Electricity shot through my veins. I recognized him from the conversation I’d overheard. He had been the one following Sapphira before I showed up.

  If I returned to the castle now, Enzo would tell of my excursion. With blood pounding in my ears, I ducked into the apothecary store and found out Rochus lived around the corner.

  Two minutes later, I found myself knocking on the door of an adorable Swiss-style cottage.

  “Prinzessin, what are you doing back here?” He scurried me through the doorway. “It’s too dangerous for you to be seen visiting.”

  It was the man with the beard from the party.

  He didn’t meet my eyes but mumbled fast and low in a strong German or Prussian accent while herding me through a hidden passageway behind the bookcase and down some stairs.

  “Ich dachte. I told you to send the servant girl!”

  We entered into a candlelit room with an arcade of pillars and ribbed vaults holding up a low roof. The place was lined with jars and bottles.

  My neck turned sharply. My eyes rolled over every inch of the lair, crammed with books, pots and corked bottles labelled in Latin and stacked on shelves that went all the way to the ceiling. One particular book protruded from a shelf, or perhaps the gleam of the fire on it caught my attention; either way, when my eyes lit upon it Rochus moved to stand between me and the book. I bumped into a table, knocking over a bottle that shattered on the stone floor.

  “Damn it!” I could no longer control myself, and I began to cry. The old man stared at me for a moment, scrutinizing me from every angle, and then his jaw dropped.

  “Scheiße! Something went wrong, didn’t it?”

  “I think so.” I broke down and told him the story about waking up disoriented in the Princess’s bed.

  We sat at a wooden table, the fire burning in the hearth at our side. Hanging from the ceiling were all kinds of flowers and herb
s, all jumbled together and releasing heady fumes.

  He handed me a cloth to dry my tears on, and to add some comfort, I supposed.

  “Ein Zauber,” he started.

  “Pardon?”

  “Bitte. Magic. It never works as it’s supposed to.” He spit out, “I didn’t know it would erase your memory.”

  “It didn’t. My memory is fine. It’s just, I’m not Sapphira. I’m Sophia Marcil. I’m a librarian from the twenty-first century. Do you understand? I’m from the future.”

  He stayed silent and stroked his long white beard as I expelled the entire story of Nick, falling off the island’s edge on Sainte Marguerite and the swirling underwater cavern. He took it all in stride, absorbing my situation much better than I was myself.

  “I’m not delusional. I realize how ridiculous this sounds, but it’s true and I can prove it.” I took Gigi’s ring out of my pocket. “This is my great-grandmother’s; it’s the only thing that seems to have made the journey with me.”

  He continued to just stare. I realized it didn’t prove a thing. Such items were available in this time. I cursed under my breath and slipped it on my finger.

  “May I see it?”

  I held my hand out to him. The old alchemist peered at the ring gleaming in the firelight.

  “Pieces of the Purple Delhi Sapphire! The Princess showed it to me once. She wore a chip of it in an amulet around her neck, always hidden beneath her dress.”

  He examined it for another two minutes. When he spoke again, his voice was unexpectedly deep and calm. “So the tale is true.”

  “What tale?”

  If he felt surprise at the situation we found ourselves in, he did not show it.

  “You… Sapphira came to me in the middle of the night over a week ago desperate for help. She believed her brother, the Prince, was in danger because she was about to refuse marriage,” he said, handing over a mug of dark, strong-smelling liquor before taking a swig from his own.