The Red Pearl by C. K. Brooke Read Free Book Online Page B

still, the map—were it truly the legendary map to the legendary pearl—would’ve been worth fighting for. No wonder Robin had been so angry with Antonia.
    “You found Ricardo’s map,” she whispered, “after twelve years of searching. Yet, the moment I appeared, I…gave it away, just like that.” Her shame was unbearable.
    But his hand fell upon hers. “It’s as we both said,” he reminded her. “If you hadn’t acted, I’d have likely been shot, even killed.”
    Antonia’s pulse thumped, for Robin stared at her beneath the night sky, his hand remaining over hers, warming her in the cool shadows. She knew not what he intended to do next. Nervous, she moistened her lips. “S-so tell me how you found Ricardo Rivera’s map.”
    All too soon, he stiffened, promptly removing his hand and returning to repose in his blankets. “That’s enough storytelling for one night,” he grunted. “We both ought to be resting. So…goodnight.” With that, he rolled onto his side, saying no more, while Maverick nestled beside him.
    Antonia looked down, wondering what she’d said to provoke his sudden shift in demeanor. With a sinking sensation she couldn’t quite identify, she tucked herself into Miriam Watkins’s unused bedroll. It was remarkably warm, and she was relieved not to detect the rocky ground beneath the plush padding. She took a final moment to appreciate the first stars of night winking down at her, before shutting her eyes and drifting into a dream-filled slumber.

ROBIN SEEMED IN CHEERFUL SPIRITS the following morning as they rolled up their bedding, shared a loaf of bread for breakfast, and piled back into the horseless carriage for another day’s drive, this time entirely through the desert. The sandy range extended for miles, through which they drove at full speed, until Robin had to refuel the vehicle with one of the many canisters of oil his father had provided them.
    They laughed and shared tales over the engine’s rumbling, and Antonia felt particularly lighthearted by the time they decided to park for a late lunch. Robin and Maverick set off down the hill to stretch and relieve themselves, while she stayed behind to gather a picnic.
    Antonia sorted through the backseat’s contents and found a quaint straw basket and wide blanket. Poring through their food rations, she added to the basket two pears, more bread, a wedge of cheese, and a glass bottle of water to share.
    The motor still ran, and the young woman came over to the driver’s seat and turned the key, shutting off the engine. Promptly, she plucked the key from the ignition and tucked it safely into the straw basket with the food.
    Presently, she heard Robin’s voice calling out to his dog over the arid breeze. Eager to present him with lunch, Antonia set out in search of him, making her way downhill. Her sandals kicked up pebbles and dust, and she hummed pleasantly to herself, admiring the cacti and their prickly arms. She dared not prod them, lest she be pricked, but they were rather beautiful, in their own untouchable way.
    It was a lovely afternoon in the Pirsi Desert, the sun overhead generous in its brilliance, the distant mountains magnificent and inspiring. For a moment, Antonia wondered whether Elat would be so exotic, and how the King’s courts would compare to this place, when she finally made it there. Yet, the thought made her feel odd, especially upon realizing that she’d gone the last few days with little thought of Elat. Perhaps she’d not go so far as to say she was actually starting to enjoy herself on Robin’s mission, but…
    Her basket jolted. Raising it, she swiveled around to see what had nipped it. Antonia lost her breath. Chest and haunches tensed, the culprit stared directly into her eyes. The predatory stare, the pointed ears—it was all too reminiscent of that awful day, so long ago…
    Panic raised in her breast. She knew she ought to holler, clap her hands, shoo it away; she was no longer a child, for