Oracles of Delphi Keep (29 page)

“Whoa,” Ian said as he leaned way in over the professor’s desk to have a look.

The professor gave him a nod before easing open the lid and peering inside. “My word,” he said breathlessly, and he pulled out a small scroll and a tightly folded piece of paper that looked old enough to disintegrate on the spot.

Ian glanced at Theo and saw a satisfied smirk on her face. “Told you,” she whispered, and he squeezed her arm with excitement.

“I’ll need my gloves,” said the professor, laying the two ancient-looking pieces of paper on his desktop before rummaging through another drawer.

He soon found a pair of white cloth gloves and pulled them on. First he focused on the folded piece of paper and very gently pried it open, but even with great care small
flecks broke away from the body of the sheet and dotted his desk like tiny bits of confetti.

“Blasted,” he said as he continued to unfold and more paper flaked off. “Fragile stuff, this,” he muttered as the last of the folds was undone and the yellowish brown sheet was laid flat on his desk.

Theo gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, my!” she said.

Ian blinked and focused on the tabletop. Air rushed into his own lungs as he gasped in disbelief at what the professor had unfolded. “Impossible!” he said. “How can it be?”

“What?” Carl asked anxiously. “What is it?”

“It’s your map,” Theo said breathlessly. “Ian, it’s
your
map!”

“What map?” asked Perry, looking from the ancient, weathered hand-drawn map in the center of the desk to Ian, who felt the blood drain from his face as a queasiness settled into his stomach.

Ian looked at his schoolmaster and it was a moment before he could speak. “I don’t know how,” he began, “but that’s the map I drew of the tunnels and caves that run out from the castle.”

“What do you mean it’s the map
you
drew?” asked Thatcher sharply. “You mean you put this map inside the box?”

“No, sir!” he practically yelled. “I’ve never seen inside that box, I swear on my life!”

“All right, lad,” said Thatcher, obviously a bit shocked by Ian’s reaction. “Calm down. I believe you.”

“But you don’t understand!” Ian insisted. “Sir, that map there
is
the map I drew. See that? That bit of scribble there?

I’d drawn a tunnel there but it collapsed and so I scribbled over it to show that it wasn’t passable.”

They all looked at where Ian was pointing. The professor spoke next and his expression was again contemptuous. “How did you get the paper to weather so perfectly?” he asked, lifting a small corner of the map. “I know several forgery artists who would certainly like to get their hands on your techniques.”

“But that’s just it, sir,” said Ian. “Other than being older and more fragile, this
is
the map that I have
at home
. It’s in my room at the keep and I promise you that when I go back there, it will be in perfect condition. Not at all like this version. What I can’t understand is how my map could be in both places at once.”

“Did someone see your map and draw a replica?” asked Perry, searching for a plausible explanation.

Ian shook his head vehemently. “That map is always with me,” he said firmly. “Well, except for today. I put it under my pillow this morning for safekeeping. And the only other person I’ve ever shown it to is Theo,” he added, looking at Theo, who nodded.

“I’d recognize that map anywhere. I’ve seen it a hundred times or so,” she said. “It’s Ian’s map.”

Ian leaned in again over the professor’s desk to look more closely at the paper that so resembled another. “Do you see that?” he asked, pointing to the tunnel where they’d found the silver box. “I only drew that this morning before breakfast! And see
this
?” he added, indicating the southeast end of the tunnel. “Where it says ‘Beast’s lair,’ that’s
my
handwriting!”

Everyone squinted at the parchment on the desk. “This doesn’t make any sense,” said Carl, rubbing his forehead. “How can this be
your
map if the one you drew is back at the keep and if you didn’t know how to get inside the box?”

Ian was still transfixed by the map on the desk, and without answering Carl, he said, “That’s odd. …”

“What could be more odd than your map appearing inside an ancient relic?” Perry asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I didn’t draw that,” Ian said, ignoring Perry’s tone and holding his finger just above the fragile paper where an X marked the exact location of where the box had been. “That’s been added along with that,” he said, moving his finger to the other side of the paper, where a tunnel that was completely separate from all the others was drawn and labeled, again in his handwriting, with the word “Portal.”

“So perhaps someone did come across your map, and they were able to make a very good copy of it and then they added these sections,” said Perry.

“But, sir!” Ian protested. “How could someone have sketched in a tunnel that I only drew this morning before everyone else woke up? How could they have gotten the box and the map away from me without my knowing it, made these additions in my handwriting, aged the parchment,
and
known how to get inside the box? I mean, the professor didn’t even know how to do that until he read it in his scroll!”

“Yes, how indeed?” said the professor sarcastically. “Come off it, lad,” he snapped. “This is your clever hoax, is it not? I mean, you’ve had this box in your sole possession,
correct? Perhaps you’ve managed to figure out how to open it on your own?”

“No!” Ian yelled as his hands balled into fists of frustration. “I swear to you, sir! You have to believe me: I had nothing to do with this!”

“But your friend here knew there was something inside the box,” said the professor. “How did she know the box contained such an interesting artifact unless she saw you put this map and scroll in it?”

Theo glared at the professor. “I know many things, Professor Nutley Not all of them are common knowledge.”

The professor regarded her skeptically.
“Really?
Like what, young lady?”

“Like the fact that you,” she said, pointing boldly at the professor, “have just been given the sack and you’re no longer welcome at your post at Cambridge!”

Ian’s heart skipped a beat. He knew that Theo was just sticking up for him, but even he thought she’d just gone too far. His fear was confirmed when he saw that Perry and Thatcher had both turned to stare at her in horror, then quickly faced the professor to stammer apologies. However, the professor was looking at Theo with such shock that the two men’s voices trailed off. “How could you
know
that?” he finally asked her.

“It’s true?” gasped Thatcher. “Professor, you’ve been sacked from Cambridge?”

Professor Nutley let out a sigh and removed his eye-glasses. “Yes, it’s true. I was relieved of my post yesterday,” he said sadly. “And to my knowledge it hasn’t yet been announced,” he added. “I expect the school paper will carry
the news on the front page but the vice chancellor promised me he wouldn’t make the announcement until next week.”

Theo blushed when she realized she’d embarrassed the old man. “S-sir,” she stammered. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean … It was just … Ian didn’t put that map inside the box, sir, and I just wanted to get my point across.”

The professor’s face softened into the faintest of smiles. “Well, you’ve certainly done that, young lady,” he said, then looked at her with something akin to respect. “And perhaps ancient Greece isn’t the only place to find an oracle?”

Theo blushed and looked at her shoes as Thatcher said, “I’ll write a letter of protest! And I’ll contact all my former classmates. Don’t you worry, Professor. We’ll get you reinstated!”

The professor waved his hand dismissively “Don’t bother, Master Goodwyn,” he said tiredly “I’m an old man, who’s been rather lax in attending to the business of teaching these days. The final straw was when I completely forgot to prepare a final examination for my students. I gave them all a passing grade, but several young men, the ones who enjoy being in the upper ranks, complained. I’ve been absent-minded these past three years,” he added. “And the thrill of teaching left me some time ago, I’m afraid.”

“What will you do?” asked Perry.

The professor fluttered a hand at the mess surrounding his desk. “I’ll sort through all this, I expect, and begin work on my memoirs.”

“Please, sir,” said Theo, “could you also translate that scroll for us? I believe that what is written on it will tell us a
great deal about the mystery of the box and the circumstances surrounding it.”

The professor glanced back at the scroll and the map on his desk. He picked up the magnifying glass again and unraveled the scroll a few inches, scanning the first few lines and frowning. After a few long moments, he scowled and set both objects down. “Gobbledygook,” he announced. “Your scroll is nothing but nonsense.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ian, his heart sinking at the professor’s assessment. He’d been so hoping that Theo was right and that the answers to all these strange questions could be found in the scroll.

“I mean that there are some letters clearly from the Phoenician alphabet; however, the line of text makes no sense at all. Just some jumbled characters, some of which appear to be written backwards, not to mention a few others here that I’ve never seen before.”

“Perhaps it’s an ancient lost dialect?” offered Thatcher, and Ian turned his face hopefully back to the professor.

But Professor Nutley merely smiled patiently and said, “Thatcher, my good man, I know you mean well, but it would have to be a rare find indeed for us to come across some ancient parchment written in a dialect we hadn’t yet heard of. Besides, even if some of these letters are from another source, I should still be able to make out a few words here and there. I’m afraid this is simply a jumble of letters clustered together that make no sense at all.”

Ian felt his hopes plummet, but before he could dwell on it, he noticed that Carl had gone round the professor’s desk
to stand near the older man’s elbow and was peering curiously at the scroll. “That looks like X, H, E,” he said, pointing to the first group of letters. “You’re right. It’s gobbledygook.”

The professor glanced at him impatiently. “That first letter is taw, not X,” he snapped. “It’s the ancient Phoenician letter for T.”

“Oh!” said Carl brightly. “Well then, that first word is ‘the’!”

The professor rolled his eyes and sighed, his patience clearly waning even more. “No, young man, it cannot be the word ‘the.’”

“Why not?” Carl asked.

“Because the Phoenicians wrote their script right to left, not left to right as you’re looking at it. And that cannot be an E,” he said. “The Phoenician alphabet had no vowels. It wasn’t until much later that the Linear B script came along and the concept of vowels was introduced into the Greek alphabet.”

“Then what’s that letter, right there?” Carl asked, pointing to the letter next to the H. Ian could see even from his angle that it looked very much like an E.

The professor’s face grew red with impatience. “One that I’ve never seen before in this alphabet!” he roared. “And trust me, if anyone is an expert in reading ancient Greek, it would be me, young man, not
you!”

Carl jumped back. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said with downcast eyes. “I meant no disrespect.”

The professor growled at him and rolled the scroll back up carefully, then placed it back into the box along with the map. Ian and the others waited in the uncomfortable silence
as the old man put away his gloves and his magnifying glass. “I’m afraid I’m tired,” he said at last.

“Yes, of course, Professor,” said Thatcher. “We appreciate your time, and we’re sorry we’ve been such a bother.”

“Yes, well …,” the professor grumbled as he tried to hand the box back to Ian. But Ian shook his head.

“If you please, sir,” he said, even though he hated to leave his precious treasure, “perhaps you might take another look at the scroll later. It seems it was a long scroll, and maybe there’s a real message farther down the parchment?”

The professor scowled, his impatience brimming, but the look on Ian’s face seemed to win him over. “Very well,” he grumbled at last. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me while I take my leave.”

“Yes, sir,” they all said, and waited while the professor squeezed from behind his desk and led them silently out of the library. When they got to the front door, Thatcher paused in the entryway and shook the old man’s hand. “Thank you again, Professor, for seeing us today. And if there’s anything I can do to get your post back at Cambridge, please let me know.”

“I don’t need help getting my post back, Thatcher. I need someone to help me sort through this mess,” he said with a wave of his hand. And then an idea seemed to strike him and he turned to Ian. “You seem to be a bright boy,” he said. “How would you like to assist an old man in cleaning up his clutter?”

“Sir?” asked Ian, feeling like he’d just been put on the spot.

“You come here next Saturday and help me make some
headway through all this mess. In exchange I’ll pay you a few pence and have one more look at that scroll of yours.”

“Oh, yes, sir!” said Ian. He never turned down the opportunity to earn a little money.

“May I come too?” asked Carl eagerly.

“Yes, yes,” said the professor, softening his grumpiness with a dry laugh. “You may come too. But I’ll expect you to work while you’re here.”

“Right,” said Carl seriously. “Work it is, sir.”

“We can all travel to London together,” said Theo. “You two can drop me at Lady Arbuthnot’s, then come here.”

“We’ll need to clear all this with Madam Dimbleby,” said Perry seriously.

The faces of the children clouded over. “Oh, please tell her it’s terribly important,” said Theo. “Tell her it’s
essential
that we come.”

Ian pumped his head. “If
you
ask her and tell her it’s important that Theo visit the Lady Arbuthnot and that Carl and I help the professor, she’s likely to say yes,” he added, crossing his fingers.

Perry smiled at the eager faces in front of him. “I’ll do my best,” he said. Then he clapped his hands and announced, “We’ll be shoving off, then. Thank you again, Professor Nutley. It’s been quite an adventurous afternoon.”