Page 55 of Charmless
“Have you had any luck?”
“No. When my grandfather lost his post as the king’s chief wizard and was forbidden to practice magic again, all his potion books and grimoires were destroyed. If only the old man had trusted me enough to explain the secret of the orb.” Mal’s lips set in a bitter line. “But of course, he despised me too much.”
“No, I am sure your grandfather loved you after his own gruff fashion.”
“Did he? I was very young when my father died, but I remember how it was. My grandfather grieved so deeply, he shut himself away, even from my grandmother. But I was playing outside his study window the day he finally allowed your parents to call. Your mother was always so kind and gentle. She tried to console my grandfather by reminding him he still had a grandson who loved and needed him.
“I’ll never forget the bitter look on my grandfather’s face or his words.‘That worthless imp? I would rather he had died instead of my son.’”
“Oh, Mal, you never told me about that.”
He shrugged. “Because it wasn’t important. I never cared what the old man thought of me.”
I knew that wasn’t true. Mal’s problem was he had cared too much. He had spent his youth both defying his grandfather and longing for his approval. I suspected that was what had made Mal so desperate to recover that orb from the king’s treasury. Yes, he believed the orb could lead to some fabulous treasure that would be the salvation of all of us. But I think he was equally motivated to prove to himself that he was worthy to be Hiram Hawkridge’s successor.
My heart ached for Mal. I wanted to hug him, but such gestures had become awkward between us. I folded my arms instead as I asked, “If your grandfather left no clues about the orb, how will you ever learn how to use it?”
“I didn’t say there were absolutely no clues. I found references to the orb and the lost treasure in an old diary my grandfather kept. There was a page ripped out which might have held more information. I have torn the Hawk’s Nest apart, thinking maybe my grandfather hid it somewhere. But I found nothing. I wondered if he could have given it to a friend for safekeeping. But the old man was so cantankerous, he didn’t have any friends except for your father.”
I frowned, a memory surfacing in my mind, like something that had been buried under a thick layer of cobwebs for years. Late at night in our library, Hiram Hawkridge trying to give Papa something. Something Papa didn’t want.
The memory disappeared as quickly as it had come, causing me to doubt the recollection. But I said, “It is remotely possible your grandfather might have trusted my father with such athing. But after Papa died, I had to go through all the papers and ledgers in his desk. I saw nothing about any mysterious orb.”
“Your father would not have left such valuable information just lying about, would he? He would have tucked it away somewhere. Perhaps in a secret compartment.”
“I am sure if there was any secret compartment in our library, I would have stumbled it across it by now.”
“Then what about between the leaves of one of the books?”
“Mal, my father owned hundreds of books!” I sighed, thinking it would be a waste of time to mount such a search. But after Mal had agreed to help Horatio, how could I not offer to do so?
I said reluctantly, “I don’t expect to find anything, but I will search the library if you wish.”
“Could you, Ella?” Mal brightened. “I realize it would be an enormous task, but I could come and help.”
“No! My stepmother would have an apoplexy if we were closeted alone together in the library.”
“What?” Mal grinned. “I thought since I had provided those ball tickets, the woman adores me.”
“Em was grateful, but not enough to want you within a mile of me. She has always been terrified I would take into my head to run off with you someday.”
“Maybe you will,” Mal murmured with a suggestive lift of his brows. He tried to make it sound as if he was teasing, but I could tell he still cherished hopes of prevailing with me in the end. I felt too weary to continue trying to convince him this would never happen. Mal could be incredibly stubborn. He would keep on hoping until I married Horatio if that happy day ever came.
I promised to start my search of the library first thing after breakfast and Mal agreed to begin his quest to expose the Aura Chamber burglar. As he donned his cloak, I tucked the basin andtowel under my arm. I retrieved the lantern to light the way back to my garden gate.
“I will return to you to tomorrow to report what I find,” Mal began but I interrupted him.
“No, it will be safer for me to meet you in Misty Bottoms.”
“Safer? With Delphine prowling about, still looking for revenge?”
“I will be on the lookout and take great care to avoid her.”
Mal scowled, still not liking the idea. But I could not risk a confrontation between him and Horatio. Horatio had agreed to wait a few days, but if he stumbled across Mal in the meantime, he would feel obliged to arrest him.
Mal and I argued the entire way to the gate, our voices getting louder. I was alarmed to notice the bushes rustling in my neighbor’s garden. But surely Mrs. B would not rouse herself to spy upon me at this hour.
I hushed Mal, peering over her fence, until I satisfied myself it must have been nothing more than a stray dog or garden mole.
