Trouble & Treasure - Dave Moyer (reading rainbow books .TXT) 📗

own shoulders twitched at his words, and my eyes blinked and half closed, that he softened. Shifting his jaw from side-to-side, he glanced at the oak behind me. “Did you find anything?”

I shook my head. “I'm still in the looking-for-clues stage,” I admitted honestly and with an annoyingly innocent voice which I tried to cough into submission.

“Well, all I found was a set of scales. But I was right. There was treasure at the center of the church; it just isn't what we're looking for.”

I looked up sharply, letting my lips open in surprise.

He must have thought I was shocked and awed by his ability to find treasure so quickly, and one corner of his mouth clinked up in a self-satisfied grin. “It is gold too, or at least gold-plated.”

Blinking, I rushed past him, heading to the church. It was a long shot, but he had found scales, so did that mean that the stone in the clue was the unit of measurement? Before I could race off and see the scales for myself, I realized I still hadn’t solved the clue properly. It had spoken of the stone found beneath a tree.

Sebastian chuckled lightly as he drew to a stop beside me, spade slung over his shoulder again. “Keep your skirt on, rookie; the treasure isn't going anywhere.”

“Is there a tree in the church?” I asked, playing with the end of my fingers as I always did when I was thinking hard.

“Not yet, but I imagine when these woods have their way, they will encroach right into that church,” Sebastian answered, and for the first time he didn’t add a sarcastic grin or mean wink to it.

I plunged my top teeth into my bottom lip, noted the way Sebastian smiled curiously at that, and turned to run towards the church.

Perhaps I’d been wrong, and the tree referred to in the passage wasn’t the one in the graveyard. Perhaps, somehow, there was a tree in the church, or at least something that technically fitted the description of the sky god’s tree.

Showing too much excitement, and even grinning wildly at the possibility I might solve this clue, I ran into the church. Sebastian had pulled aside the broken pews and had even rolled several of the massive stones that had fallen down from the ceiling above to the side, clearing a neat semicircle right in the dead center of the church.

There was a rough hole dug right into the middle of the clearing, several of the flag stones shifted off to the side, and a neat package sitting reverently on top of one, chunks of dirt covering the stained cloth with leather tied around it like a parcel.

I rushed over to it, Sebastian warning yet again that unless I slowed down, I would break my neck.

I sat down next to the package once I reached it, pulling down my skirt as I did, lest it rode up from behind.

I picked up the package gently, placing it on my lap as I unwrapped it. It was a set of scales; Sebastian hadn’t lied about that. It did look like it was gold. An infectious smile spread across my face as I tried not to get too excited at the possibility I could figure this clue out.

“I found that; it's mine,” Sebastian clarified, letting the spade clang down beside him as he walked right up to me and loomed there.

As I held the scales, playing lightly with the mechanism, and gently moving it around as I surveyed it, I strove to ignore him.

“As great as it is – and you should remember it's mine,” he clarified again, “We need to find the globe that is meant to be here. If it is here,” he sighed deeply. “Every second we stay here, is a second they,” he stabbed a finger at the door, “Get closer to finding us.”

I put a finger to my lips and hissed out a shhh. Then, still biting my lips, I looked around the church. There weren't any trees that I could see, unless they were tiny. I let my eyes settle above me, and noticed a sturdy wooden beam that ran across the length of the church, supporting the heavy ceiling above.

I stood up, careful not to drop the heavy scales, head still turned towards the ceiling.

“What wood do you think that beam is up there?”

“Probably oak, probably from the woods outside, why? Do you think we can knock it down and use it to smash our enemies?” He took the chance to gesture with his gun. “I think I'll stick with my gun.”

I did a dance as the word ‘oak’ issued from his mouth. The tree of the sky god. I had a set of scales in my hand, scales that had been found under an oak tree, or at least a section of such a tree.

“Do you have a stone on you?” I asked Sebastian.

Sebastian's eyebrows smoothly peaked together. He leaned down, picked up a small stone from next to my foot, brushing too close to my leg as he rose, and handed it to me. “You are mad.”

I took the stone and threw it away. “Not a stone, a stone.”

He laughed loudly. “Fuck,” he let the word draw out. “Sorry, a stone,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I put one hand on my hip, despite how heavy it was to hold up the scales with the other. “I need a unit of measurement. You know, a stone of weight.”

If he looked incredulous and sarcastic before, he looked dismissive now.

“Look, there is a passage in my great-uncle's journal that says there is a clue to the globe's whereabouts on a stone under the sky god’s tree. The sky god’s tree, I think, means an oak tree, because that’s what was often associated with sky deities in ancient times,” I kept my words clear and slow, as if I was leading a class of five-year-olds, “And now that you've found a set of scales, I think the word stone refers to the unit of measurement. So maybe if we could—”

Sebastian leaned in, grabbed the scales off me, brushing past my arms as he did, and stared down at them.

“Excuse me,” I blurted out.

He placed the scales on the ground, picked up his spade, and before I could stop him swung it around in a great arc and struck it.

I gave a stifled scream. “What are you doing?”

While his first blow had dented the scales, it hadn’t broken them. He pulled up his spade to strike again, and before I could stop him, he settled yet another blow.

“It's gold.” I tried to reason with him, as he struck again with a seriously excessive manly grunt pushing his chest out.

“Soft metal,” was all he said as he tried to strike it again. After several more blows the weighing mechanism snapped off. Letting the spade clatter to the ground, Sebastian dropped to his knees, grabbed the base of the scales in one hand and tipped it up. He shook it, and a small parchment of rolled-up paper tumbled out and onto the ground by my feet.

The look on his face was a mix of schoolboy enthusiasm and irritatingly attractive charm. He raised an eyebrow, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and dipping his head. “There is your clue, Amanda.”

I leaned down to pick it up, but before I could get there, he snatched it off the ground, looking right into my eyes as he passed me and stood. He pulled off a string tightly wound around the parchment and threw it to the ground. Then he unwound the old paper, eyes darting over whatever he saw written there.

I stupidly stood there and waited for him to offer me the parchment once he had finished with it, or at least tell me what was written there. He didn't; he shifted his jaw from side-to-side – something he did a lot – and wound the paper back up and popped it into the pocket of his shirt. He shrugged at me. “Looks like old Stanton was fond of clues then.” He turned from me, leaned down and grabbed the spade, and headed for the door.

Teeth bared with frustration at how arrogant this man was, I balled my hands into fists and followed him. “I could have told you that, if only you could listen.”

I marched behind him, dodging my way around the obstacles that littered the floor and drawing up beside him as he made it to the front door.

That would be when he flung out his arm, stopping me in place.

The sound of a car drawing to a halt outside filtered through the crack of the half-open door.

“Fuck,” he said quietly, repeating it several times with a bitter twist to his voice.

Heart in my throat, I tried to move past to see who it was. Though the fear twisting through my gut and rushing down my back told me to turn and find somewhere to hide, it was better to ensure there was something to run from first.

When the sound of gunfire or the guttural, horrible laughs of criminals didn’t meet my ears, I sucked my lips in with a pop. “Maybe it's someone else, someone who isn't after us,” I suggested innocently.

Rather than tell me to shut up, Sebastian turned to me and cut a finger across his throat.

I got the message. I took several steps back.

That would be when I heard whistling. A pleasant, competent tune that seemed to drift peacefully through the door. I was no expert on bad guys, but I didn't know whether they whistled while they worked.

“Visitors? Been a long time since we've had visitors,” a man with a thick Yorkshire accent said as he walked towards the door of the church.

Sebastian took a step to the left, raising the spade up above his shoulder, getting ready to strike.

I freaked out. I dashed in front of Sebastian, opened the door, and thrust myself through it.

I had no idea what would meet me outside, and whether the whistling Yorkshireman was a whistling Yorkshire hit man, but I couldn't take the risk. I wasn't anything like Sebastian, and I had no experience with this thing; so excuse me if I thought twice about clocking potentially innocent people over the head with a spade.

My cheeks red from fright, my breath shallow and quick, I stumbled through the door and right into the arms of a stunned-looking farmer.

He didn't have a gun, or not that I could see. He wore a simple tweed jacket and a small cap on his bald, round head.

He blinked as I appeared panting on the doorstep.

“Hello there,” he said politely, “You are a bit flushed, Miss, everything all right?”

I tried to get a hold of my breath, and nodded. “Ah.... Hello,” I managed, “I'm fine.”

He nodded. At no point did it look as though he was about to grab two pistols from the back of his pants and gun me down. If I was any judge of character, I would say that this man was about as nice as the friendly smile on his face suggested.

He nodded at me again. “Nice church, isn't she? Doing a bit of sightseeing, ma'am?”

I nodded.

“I see. I often come up here myself, have a look at the old place, check that no more vandals have desecrated her.” He looked sincere.

I winced. Did vandalism include digging a dirty great hole in the middle of the church, finding treasure, and bashing it to pieces with a spade?

“Did you have a fright, miss?” The man asked kindly. “Only you are still all flushed?”

The door opened from behind me and Sebastian walked out, thankfully not wielding his spade or gun. I could see the gun neatly and discreetly tucked into the back of his pants, and he had obviously left the spade inside. He had an even smile on his face and nodded at the old man.

The man looked surprised, and he slid his eyes from Sebastian to me, one