“Do you remember the plan, Izzy?” whispered Myth.
“Of course, I do,” I replied. “Stop fussing so much.”
“I’ll stop fussing when this is over and both of us are safe,” said Myth.
After our conversation about Myth’s letter, we had discussed Black Bart’s treasure. Myth had thought up a plan for dealing with Bard and Bumble once we entered Boyle’s Cave. And she had told it to me as we ate breakfast.
“They’re going to betray us,” she had said. “I bet they’ll wait until we find the treasure, though. So you’ll get your chance to bounce up and down excitedly. Just be ready to run when I tell you to.”
Nodding my head, I had replied, “Okay.”
“Now,” Myth had continued, “those fools will be on edge when we find the treasure. And I’m going to tell Bard and Bumble something that will make them lose their heads. But don’t ask what it is—you’ll find out soon enough. I’m hoping that a brawl will break out. With luck, we’ll be able to slip away in the chaos.”
That was our plan: find the treasure, bounce up and down excitedly, and then run when Myth gave the word.
I thought it was an excellent plan, but Myth was worried that something bad would happen to us.
Even now, when we were inside Boyle’s Cave, Myth continued to fret. She led the way, holding our torch in her left hand. Her right hand rested upon the hilt of one of her daggers, ready to unsheathe it at a moment’s notice.
I walked just a step behind her, but I was unarmed. Myth had insisted that I leave my crossbow with our gear, which we had hidden beneath a log not far from the cave. “I want you to be able to flee as swiftly as possible,” she had said. “Your crossbow will only slow you down.”
Although Myth had convinced me to leave my crossbow behind, now I was wishing that I had brought it along. You see, Bard and Bumble were right behind me. And they were muttering incoherently as we marched along. Yes, two lunatics who wanted to stab me in the back were following me and I had no means of defending myself.
“Whhoooo! Whhoooo!” howled the wind.
I shivered. “Oh, I hate that sound. Now I understand why Lad Bartholomew called this place ‘the Howling Den.’ It’s spooky in here.”
“Ready to give up, Iz?” said Myth, chuckling.
“Not until we find the treasure, Missy.”
Myth halted suddenly. She waved her torch from left to right, allowing me to see that the tunnel spilt into two paths just ahead.
“Left or right, Iz?” said Myth.
“Um,” I uttered, thinking about which path to choose, “right. No wait—left, definitely left.”
“Left it is,” replied Myth. “Wait here while I scout ahead.”
“Be careful,” I implored her.
“Don’t worry, Izzy. I just want to make sure that we’re not going to fall into a bottomless pit.”
Myth walked cautiously down the left hand path. Then the flame of her torch disappeared. I could only hope that she had turned around a corner and had not fallen into an abyss.
“Whhoooo! Whhoooo!” cried the wind.
Those few minutes when I was stuck in dark with only Bard and Bumble for company were the longest of my life.
“Whhoooo! Whhoooo!” shrieked the wind.
And that wind was not comforting me. I kept imaging Myth lying upon the ground with a broken leg, unable to make it back to me.
“Whhoooo! Whhoooo!” howled the wind.
Oh, no treasure is worth this anxiety, I thought. Please come back to me, Myth.
A flickering flame appeared in the dark. Soon, I could see Myth again. A huge smile covered her face.
“Are you hurt?” I asked her, patting her arms to make certain that she was not injured.
“Would I be smiling if I was hurt?” said Myth.
Satisfied that she was okay, I said, “You found the treasure, didn’t you?”
“You’re going to have to wait and see. Now, take my hand and come with me.”
I grabbed hold of her hand. “Is this route dangerous?”
“Nope,” said Myth.
“Then why do you want me to hold your hand?” I asked her as we started to walk down the left hand path.
“So that you’re right beside me when you see what’s up ahead,” said Myth. “I don’t want to miss your reaction.”
The path veered to the right. Myth held her torch up to a message that was scrawled on the cave wall:
This is Bartholomew and Teleri’s hideout.
Adults, keep out!
“There’s a small chamber just ahead,” said Myth. “The path ends there.”
We entered the chamber. In the glimmering torchlight, I spied an object at the far end of the chamber. This object was rectangular and made of wood…
I bet you can guess what it was, Buster…
That’s right—I saw a treasure chest!
“We found Black Bart’s treasure!” I exclaimed. Clapping my hands, I bounced up and down excitedly. “We did it, Myth! We did it!”
I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her. All the while, I continued to bounce up and down.
“That’s the reaction I was hoping to see,” said Myth.
“He-he-he,” echoed through the chamber.
Our moment of jubilation ended as Lawless Tom, Ducky, and And Dan stepped out of the shadows and into the chamber.
“Der,” said And Dan. “We fooled yous.”
“Indeed,” said Lawless Tom. “You, my delectable ladies, are but pawns in this cruel game. ’Tis with a heavy heart that I must order you to step away from the treasure. I would receive no joy in befouling your bosoms with blood.”
“Ha!” cried Bard, pointing at us. “Forgive me, fair damsels, but I—The Bard—have deceived you: I’ve been working with these fine gentlemen all along. But don’t distress your pretty little heads over having failed to detect my treachery. Even the most cunning of men could not have unraveled the intricacies of my plot.”
“Yeah,” said Myth. “We knew you were working with these… well, for lack of a better word, men.”
I nodded my head in agreement with her.
“Huh?” uttered Bard.
“I even confronted you about it,” said Myth. “Remember that, Iz?”
I nodded, “Yes.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Bard. “But I assured you that I wasn’t going to betray you. Thus, I lulled you into trusting me so I could turn on you at this pivotal moment.”
“No,” said Myth. “You really didn’t fool us.”
I shook my head, “No.”
“In fact,” said Myth, “I bet you’re the one who has been deceived. Any moment now, these chums of yours”—she nodded at the bandits—“will stab you in the back. And I mean that literally, not figuratively.”
“Huh?” uttered Bard.
“He-he-he,” added Ducky.
“Indeed, she is correct,” said Lawless Tom as he slapped Bard on the back. “But worry not; you’ll feel merely a moment of excruciating pain before passing into oblivion.”
“Der,” said And Dan. “You wants me to stab ’im now, Boss?”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” laughed Bumble, finally joining the conversation. “Fools! I—”
“Are you about to betray us, too?” Myth cut in.
“Huh?” uttered Bumble.
“Let’s just skip the dramatic bit where you expound upon you treachery, shall we,” said Myth. “Izzy and I don’t have all day.”
“Bernice!” Myth called out. “Would you please make an appearance? Come on, now. Don’t be shy.”
Bernice the bear lumbered out of the shadows and growled, “Gwhrr-rawhr-rhrr!”
“Good,” said Myth, “everyone is here.”
Myth handed the torch to me. “Now, before you lunatics batter one another senseless, I’d like to say a few words about this treasure. More specifically, I want to talk about Black Bart.”
Sitting atop the treasure chest, Myth began her lecture. “Black Bart was an odd pirate—burying his treasure so far from the sea, literally writing ‘Yargh!’ in his clues… I’ve mentioned this before, haven’t I, Izzy?”
“Yes,” I replied. “You thought there was something strange about Black Bart right from the start.”
“Back then,” said Myth, “I thought the treasure was a hoax. And that Black Bart was merely a character created by a wizened old man. But I was wrong—Black Bart did exist. And this”—she patted the treasure chest—“is indeed his treasure.”
“Then let’s fight for it already,” shouted Bumble. “Those shiny things belong to Bumble.”
A chorus of, um… hmm… hooting and hollering erupted as the rabble of lunatics prepared for battle.
“All of you—hush!” Myth ordered them, glaring at the band of fools so sternly that her mom would have been proud.
The rabble quietened immediately.
“Thank you,” said Myth. “Now then, as we hunted down Black Bart’s clues, Izzy and I learned a good deal about the Boyle Family. I won’t tell you everything we learned—you lot don’t have the attention span for that.”
Myth paused and glared at the rabble once again as if to make certain that everyone was paying attention. “But I am going to say a few words about Lad Bartholomew Boyle. By all accounts, he was a well-behaved and friendly Lad who adored his father. Now, his father was good man, but he was also an important figure in Bramble and he was always busy. Thus, Lad Bartholomew didn’t get to see him very often.”
Myth shook her head. “That had to hurt the poor Lad—having the Holding be more important to his father than he was. But then Lad Bartholomew learned that his family was going on a month long holiday. Imagine that! He would get to spend a whole month with his father, visiting his favorite places: Braddock’s Statue, the City Prop—”
“Oh, my goodness!” I exclaimed. I had just figured out the truth that Myth had grasped long before. “Lad Bartholomew was Black Bart.”
Myth smiled at me. “Congratulations, Izzy. You worked it out. Yes, Lad Bartholomew created the treasure hunt for his father. He must have spent months getting everything ready. But it was worth it, because this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something special with his father.”
Myth paused and sighed. “Unfortunately, Lad Bartholomew and his family died at the beginning of that holiday. This is just a guess—but that wizened old man must have found the first clue in the wreckage of the Boyles’ carriage. He saw a chance to make some coins, so he printed copies of the clue and started selling them to fools. And thus, the legend of Black Bart’s treasure was born.”
Standing up, Myth grasped the chest’s lid. “Now, what treasure would a child hide? His favorite toys!”
Myth threw open the lid and looked inside the chest.
Then she gasped.