60. Watch the Door!
Rosella walked up to the mansion with her head cocked back. It was certainly creepy during the day, but that didn’t
compare to the spookiness give off at night. She peered up at the dusty windows wondering if she might see a ghost.
Swallowing that thought, the princess tried to tiptoe in her heels down the slate walkway of the giant old house. The
clicks were tinier and her effort was laudable, but the dressy shoes just did not allow a level of stealth worth mentioning.
She grabbed hold of the cold doorknob in her little hand and gave it a turn. Rosella cringed as the door gave a long
creak while it slowly opened. Her long blonde hair swayed about as she poked her head inside quickly to see if any
creepy monsters lay in wait for an unsuspecting princess. When she met no such fate, she slithered inside with the rest
of her body, eyes straining to adjust to the minimal shafts of moonlight cutting through the windowpanes. It was so quiet
inside the mansion without the wind, the crickets, and the frogs outside. Their absence made the ticking of the
grandfather clock seem all that much louder. Rosella gingerly approached the elaborate antique as her eyes finished
adjusting to take a look. Her heart sank. If the time was correct on the clock, then it was well after midnight. The
mention of possible real time made the princess feel suddenly exhausted. As if the actual trials of her quest had not
been tiring enough, the length of the day seemed to sap what precious little strength she had remaining.
Turning her eyes from the sands of the clock, Rosella headed for the parlor and the real reason that she had returned
to the mansion. Passing through the doorway, the musty couch and dusty tables, she came to stand in front of the
smooth cobblestone wall. She traced her fingers over the cool surface of the bumpy rocks, and then turned her head
as if she felt someone spying on her. There on the wall was the painting of the woman whose gaze fell directly on
Rosella. Or rather where the young princess stood. Turning back to the wall, Rosella continued dragging her finely
manicured nails gently along the cobbles until one of her nails clicked down on a previously hidden indentation in the
rock. “Aha,” she said to herself, opening up the pouch she had been carrying with her, and producing the small dead
fish key from inside. While the tiny ornate key still smelled rather distasteful, that hardly mattered now. What Rosella
hoped the key she found inside the sunken sea chest was, was actually the mansion parlor key! Uttering a silent wish
for good fortune, the eager princess slipped the little key into the slot. Holding her breath, she gave it a little turn.
Nothing. Feeling her heart beginning to sink, Rosella cut back on the gentleness and gave the key a solid turn. The
ancient tumblers dropped into place with a click, and the heavy cobblestone door began to slide open toward a startled
Rosella. She took two quick steps backward, but peered inside the secret door as soon as she could, curious as ever.
Inside, a torch burned against the wall. How could that be? Rosella asked herself. How long had it been burning?
Surely there was magic at work. Not one to question her blessings, Rosella was thankful for the light. It allowed her to
see inside the secret room. The door led into what looked like a tower from the circular shape of the room, and a
spiraling wooden staircase attached to the wall. Peering up, all she could see was darkness, but any thoughts of
traveling up were dashed when she noticed that the staircase ended halfway through a spiral above her head. The only
other thing of note inside the tower was an old shovel leaned up against the wall. Why would there be a shovel locked
up in a secret room? Thought Rosella. Obviously something is buried that I need to find, but where would Lolotte bury
something in Tamir? It could be anywhere! Rosella’s stomach turned with her first guess. But she didn’t have time
lament on the thought. Her attention drawn to the sound of the cobblestone door scraping across the floor, dragging
itself shut. Had it been timed? Rosella had no idea, but she wasn’t about to wait around to find out. With a burst of
speed, she grabbed the shovel and dashed through the small remaining opening of the door. Good thing she was as
slender as she was. Laughing to herself, she wondered if her brother Alexander could have made THAT narrow
escape. She intended to make it home to ask him herself. Acting on the remaining adrenaline of narrowly escaping a
fateful trap, Rosella carried the shovel through the parlor and out the front door of the mansion. It was pretty obvious
where she had to go with it. She had a pretty good hunch that it was time to do a little grave digging.
The Graveyard