“If a spider ends up in my hair because of your little treasure hunt, I’m going to freak out. Just so you know.” Mel’s tone was cheerful, conversational. A little at odds with their surroundings.
Ann glanced back. She didn’t know what Mel was complaining about; Ann was going first, wasn’t she, pushing all the cobwebs down and trying to clear a path?
“You owe me so big,” Mel muttered.
“This was your idea!” Ann exclaimed, then yelped in pain as she whacked her head on a low-hanging beam.
“Oh, sure, it was my idea to edge through this crawlspace and see if there was anything on the other side.”
“You’re the one who noticed the mismatch between the floorplan and the blueprints. I’d say that means it’s your idea.”
Mel hit Ann’s foot with her flashlight. “But you are the one who was so sure the treasure would be here.” She sighed. “Why couldn’t it have been buried on a beach, in the tropics, or something? Not in this rickety old house that looks like something out of a horror movie.”
Ann was still rubbing her head. “I don’t know, Ann. I guess the pirates liked Maine better than Bermuda.”
“Stupid pirates.”
Ann just sighed. “It can’t be too much farther. Just a little more… yes!” Her cheer of triumph echoed as she left the crawlspace, scrambling up and looking around.
“Well, this had better be worth it. I think I’m going to have to burn these clothes. And if there is a single… spider…” Mel, appearing beside Ann, trailed off, looking around the small room. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Isn’t it awesome?” Ann breathed, looking at stacks of books, tilting piles of scrolls.
“You seriously brought me all the way out here for books?”
Ann ignored her, pulling gloves out of her backpack and slipping them on. “Do you have any idea what these books are?”
“No, I don’t, since you didn’t fill me in on that little detail of the operation. God, I wish we weren’t related so I could kill you.”
“But then your mom and my mom would be upset, and you’d have to explain it to Grandpa, and it would be this whole big thing,” Ann said, gingerly picking up a book and delicately turning a few pages.
“Damn you for being the favorite.”
“I’m not the favorite. I just believed all of Grandpa’s stories.” Ann looked up from the book, and grinned at her cousin. “And I think you should start believing, too.”
Mel blinked at her. “So,” she said, slowly, “are you telling me that Grandpa’s stories about pirates living it up in our family house, that an ancestor lost in a bet, actually hid treasure here, but the treasure was lost books from some ancient library that burned down?”
“Yup.”
Mel glanced at the books with new respect. “And the value of these books?”
“Priceless.”
Mel let out a whoop. “We’re going to be rich!”
Ann just chuckled. She had her own reasons for wanting to see if the story was true.
Suddenly, there was a loud cracking noise from somewhere in the house.
“What was that?” Mel whispered.
“Someone else is here,” Ann whispered back. “You didn’t tell anyone we were coming here, did you?”
“Well…”
“Seriously?!”
“I didn’t think any of this was real! So I might have told a few people when I was out with friends last week, and they seemed like bored tourists who were interested in the area, and-”
She was cut off by another loud noise from upstairs, followed by muffled voices.
“Mel, now I’m the one who is going to commit familicide.” The noises were getting closer. “If whoever that is doesn’t kill us first.”
© The Lightning Tower, 2020