Heart Of Gold by Bird Jessica Read Free Book Online

than a foot
wide, the path cut through the brush and guided them into the cool refuge under
the trees. Ferns, lady slippers, and bright green elf grass grew beside the
thin trail and, as they walked along, the sounds of moving creatures mixed with
the cracks of snapping twigs under their feet. The forest's perfume was a blend
of good earth and growing things, an ancient scent full of life.
    The
ground began to rise and boulders appeared, casualties of the glacier that had
carved out the lake and then receded thousands of years before. At a steady
clip, they climbed the mountain, and Carter noted that the grass and ferns
disappeared and the deciduous trees changed to heartier hemlocks and pines.
    A half
hour later, they came to a clearing close to the top of the mountain and Carter
gasped at the view below. Cradled between twin mountain ranges, the lake was a
shimmering valley of water that stretched out in both directions as far as the
eye could see. Over to the left, on a peninsula that jutted out into the lake,
she could see the magnificent stone walls and buildings of Fort Sagamore.
    One of
the oldest military fortresses in the United States, it was a national treasure
and a popular site for tourists and scholars. After the stronghold had been
built by the French in the early 1700s, it had changed hands a number of times
and was eventually captured by the Americans in the Revolutionary War. This
final, successful coup had been led by Nathaniel Walker, a man who figured
prominently in the mystery of the missing gold and lost men.
    As she
took in the vista, Carter let out a low whistle.
    What she
was looking at mirrored a description General Farnsworth, the Brit who had been
escorted by the colonialists, had scribed in his journal. He'd detailed a
clearing exactly like the one she was now standing in, including the landscape
down to his fort and the flat-topped mountain across the lake. It had been,
he'd noted, close to where the slaughter occurred.
    Her heart
rate shot up.
    “Some
kind of pretty, isn't it?” Cort asked. “The guy was digging back
here.”
    They
walked a couple hundred yards farther up the mountain until they were
confronted with an uneven circle of huge boulders. The bulky sentries guarded
an inner sanctum that was about a square acre in size. Carter was astounded as
she stepped inside.
    This was
it, she thought. This had to be where the slaughter occurred.
    She began
to pace over the coarse grass and the pine needles, trying to imagine what
secrets might be hidden in the earth. Farnsworth had described the spot where
the party had set up camp as a Stonehenge in the Adirondacks. With handy access
to a nearby stream and the boulders offering protection from, the wind and
potential enemies, it was the perfect place for a party of weary travelers to
rest their heads.
    Carter
caught sight of a bottle and went over to pick it up. Aside from the empty Bud
Light, there was other evidence of modern visitations. The fire pit in the
middle, created by a cloister of stones, had relatively fresh ashes in it. More
significantly, she saw ragged gashes dug carelessly here and there in the
ground all over the place.
    It was
typical Lyst, she thought. Raping and pillaging his way through the site.
    Carter
bent down and plied the earth with her hand, letting the dirt fall through her
fingers.
    Damn you,
Farrell.
    She
stayed on her haunches a moment Longer, wishing for a chance she wasn't going
to get.
    “Well,
thanks for bringing me up here,” she said as she got to her feet.
    Cort
beamed. “If you want, I can show you a place no one knows about.”
    “Where—”
    “What
are you doing there, boy?” Out of nowhere, a man appeared in the circle. He
was small, built like a bulldog, and had dark eyes crowned by a disapproving
brow. More significantly, he had a shotgun cradled in his arms and the look of
someone itching to use it.
    “Hi,
Ivan,” Cort mumbled.
    “You
know you're not s'posed to bring anyone up here.”