The Legend of the Phantom (30 page)

Chapter 44

As the Phantom climbed the hill, he finally came to the Sacred Rock, also known as the Eyrie.

He worked his way
into the column of rock via the well-used, but hidden, passage that led to the well, however, this time he stopped and considered the walls around him.  It didn’t take too long to find the motif, now that he knew what he was searching for. He realized that he must have past it many times throughout his life without visually recognizing it was there. Yet there it was, plain as could be, etched into the stone wall: two crossed sabers set onto their side.

The motif appeared to be set into a circular indent, one that fit his ring perfectly. Surmising that the ring truly was the key, he placed his fist against the indent and pushed. A single click sounded. Trying to experiment with the lock he tried twisting his fist (and thus the ring) counterclockwise.  As he did so and the motif straightened up, an audible ‘clunk’ sounded and the wall moved a hair. He found that by p
ushing on the wall the rock seemed to give a bit. The stone in the rock didn’t seem to fit as snuggly as the others. In fact the Phantom could feel a slight breeze against his fingers from the other side.

Straining against the wall,
the masked man pushed against the heavy stone door. Set into the wall, it seemed a natural part of the cave, unrecognizable unless one knew it was there. The more he pressed the more the wall gave and slid. Eventually he was able to get a finger hold in it. Exerting all of his strength, he slowly pulled it open enough to step inside.

The dust of centuries left a fine carpet across the floor, the fixtures
, and the artifacts inside. Lighting a torch, he found himself inside of a room filled to the brim with treasures of every kind. More, ever so much more than the small pile of gold and gilt left in the cave on Mona.

He quickly scoured the room and saw that it
must extend some distance out under the sandy floor of the desert above him.

He slowly circuited the room and finally returned to the center of the expanse.
There he had seen the covered podium and wondered but waited to see what was so important that it commanded a place in the center of the room.

Carefully removing the
dust covered linen that shrouded the item beneath, he discovered a large tome, bound in hard leather, with vellum pages. Lifting the book he read the first entry:

Friday, 21 September 1492

My name is Christopher, and being the son of Bartholomew, and nephew to Admiral Christopher, I was asked to be his cabin-boy upon the trip of discovery to find the new route west to the Asiatic Spice Islands.

My uncle asked that I be his personal servant here upon the Santa Maria. Though I am well into my 1
5
t
h
year, and according to my uncle, nearly old enough to be enlisted as a sailor myself; yet my uncle insisted that he have someone he could trust by his side. Thus I could not refuse. Had I refused the post, he would have entertained Pedro do Terreros instead, however, I was honored by the post, and have worked hard to support my uncle in his role. This pushed Pedro to the Pinta, which suited him quite well…

His
heart skipped a beat as he took in what he had read. ‘Could it be…?’ he wondered to himself.

Quickly he flipped to the end of the book. His heart pounded as he found the final entry, clearly written in a different hand than the rest of the book.

“My life began anew on the 1
7
t
h
of February in the year 1535, the day my father was murdered…”

“…The sea fog engulfed them…”

Finding a comfortable spot to sit and read, the Phantom did so, and with every page his eyes opened wider and wider with wonder. Finally he placed the book down. What he had finished reading was the diary of the Father of the First, Christopher ‘Kit’ Columbus, son of Bartholomew Columbus which related his lineage with an ending of his father’s life written by the hand of the first Phantom.

  Wiping his eyes, the Phantom took out the key that he had retrieved from the
well rock on Mona. Nearby was a large, locked bureau and fitting the key inside, he attempted to turn it. The mechanism within clicked and the door to the bureau unlatched. Tenderly he pulled the door open and as he did so he sucked in a large lungful of air.

Awe overcame him as he read the spines of the large tomes inside. There,
treasure of treasures were the complete works of Bartholomew and his son Christopher; otherwise known as the Grandfather and the Father of the First.

When Christopher had lost his wife
to the pirates, he vowed to fight piracy until he extinguished every last one…even if it meant dying while trying. To that end he was extremely successful. With every ship he overtook, he kept their treasure, and amassed it, hoping one day to pass it on to his son to give Kit the capital means to continue the fight. Knowing though that the pirates would one day find Ámona he moved a portion of the treasure to the island and made a pirate trap… and left the rest of the treasure at the Eyrie.

Fearing that his son may never know where it was stored
, he left maps, scrolls and keys in the two places that he felt his son would find them… on Ámona where Bartholomew lived, and, assuming he died before he could tell the lad, in the sepulcher in Whitby that awaited his body. The scrolls and maps led to the Eyrie, and the keys belonged to the bureau that held all of his journals and those of his father.

Unfortunately the
son never was able to bury his father, and the grief of the First was such that he never returned to Ámona.

Whether the Second knew of the old well on Mona, the Phantom couldn’t begin to guess. However, it was obvious that i
t was the Second that found the hidden room in the Eyrie. How the Second happened to find the hidden room or when was lost to time, but clearly it was he that placed the journal of the Father of the First on the podium. What left the Phantom wondering was where the Second found the journal of the Father of the First and why he never told his son of his discovery of the treasure of the Eyrie; as it was clearly lost to the Phantom line since the Second’s death.

Until t
his moment… when the Phantom had finally found his legacy.

Eventually, the Phantom pulled himself away as he made his way via the internal elevator into the Eyrie hideout proper. As he stepped into the room, he stopped.

Someone had recently been there.

It took only a few seconds to find out whom.

Laid flat against his table top and partially buried under a small handful of the gold coins (that started the whole business) was a note which read:

Next time let’s take a more romantic boat ride together that doesn’t end in me having to explain myself to Puerto Rican authorities. It took a bit of explaining but eventually they let me go (people are much easier to deal with when unconscious, a lesson I learned from you, darling!) And no, I didn’t kill them. In fact, I’ve given up on murder… too messy. Here are a few coins for your collection. I decided to keep the rest, as they are mine by birthright.

I’ll be seeing you around.

It was signed with the imprint of her lips in lipstick.

The Phantom reflected on it as he scooped up the coins. It was time to make amends…

A few days later the Phantom stood at the burial site of his great grandfather so many times removed through the ages; the grave of the Father of the First. The cold wind blew in over the cliff from the sea as it whipped the edge of the Phantom’s long trench coat about his legs.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen the great man kneel down against the headstone and slowly remove two gold coins from his coat pocket. Laying the coins upright against the headstone, he slowly pushed them down with his fingers until they had disappeared well below the sod line.

Standing slowly, he turned and stared out across the cemetery towards the sea. Then pulling his coat a bit tighter around his massive form, he moved on, leaving the grave behind.

…The firelight flickered as Old Mozz finished the story. The Phantom’s strong white teeth showed through his smile as he heard the story of his discovery of himself told through the eyes of the Bandar. By his side sat Diana, having forgiven him once he sought out her forgiveness and explained just how certain he was that she was the only one for him.

To the Bandar pygmies, having
Diana back and the Phantom safe was reason enough for celebration.

Afterwards,
as Diana was pulled away for a celebratory dance, Old Mozz tottered over to where the giant sat alone.

“Well, O Ghost Who Walks, are you pleased with the way I told
your history?”

“It was well said, old friend, as always, but I wonder,” the Phantom continued, “how do you explain my apparent lack of memory about the earlier versions of me?”

“O, Ghost Who Walks, do you recall what you ate last month upon your return? Or the month before?”

The Phantom paused a bit as his eyes crinkled up a little in silent laughter, “I believe it was elephant. And before that… elephant.”

“Yes… but what I mean…”

“I understand,” cut off the Phantom.

The two sat there in silence for a moment. The old man followed the giant’s gaze and let his eyes rest upon the lithe and graceful form of the dancing Diana. Then the old man spoke up once again, “If you don’t mind my saying so, I believe there is a lesson to be learned here.”

“I agree,” replied the Phantom,
reeling himself in from his thoughts, “I had a realization when studying out the rings: It doesn’t matter what your ancestors did, as long as your own actions reflect what you should do. I did not believe that my ancestors could be pirates for a simple fact: the son learns from the father and the First fought cruelty in all its forms.”

That wasn’t quite what I was thinking
, O Ghost Who Walks…”

“Oh, and what lesson were you thinking of, Old Mozz?”

“It may be time for you to produce an heir.”

The Phantom’s eyes shifted to Diana’s lithe form.
A warm smile spread across his countenance. “Hmmm. Diana. Yes, maybe you’re right…Maybe so.”