Wow everyone, I apologize for my extended absence. I had a lot to do in preparation for college this year, and the work load is insane. I have 18 credits, 10 hrs/ week at work, chorus, and I'm a new photographer for the campus newspaper. I've had little time to myself at all, but I felt awful for not updating this in so long. Two more weeks left in the semester, including finals and I'll be done. I've hit a few bumps with this, but I'll only be able to work them out in writing. Thanks for your patience!

Also, I have, at the request of some, made a Riley/Abigail video on YouTube. Link will be in my profile shortly.

- Dis/Claimer –

x x x

. Chapter Eight .

"Hey."

Riley looked up from pumping gas at a busy gas station as Carolyn approached.

In the backseat of the car, Ben was sitting with his sleeping six-year-old daughter. As he capped the gas tank, Riley now noticed that Carolyn had been dressed in black since that afternoon, and he stood in the remains of a forgotten tuxedo that reflected only a fraction all of the turmoil the day had incurred. Carolyn watched his jaw stiffen and eyes grow hollow as he avoided her gaze.

"Ben said we're splitting up now," she told him. "I'm going to switch cars with Abigail so we can just… be on way. Shouldn't take long to get to Allenhurst."

Riley just nodded. "You have the directions I gave you?"

"Yes. They're in my bag."

He turned to the pump wordlessly and slid his card through it. His body language radiated anger, but Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm not going to apologize."

He stabbed at the keypad with his finger. "No?"

"No."

"I don't know, I think I kind of deserve one."

"You wouldn't accept it anyway."

Riley looked ready to speak but caught himself. He raised his eyebrows and turned to her.

"You know, you're right," he said bitterly. "I wouldn't. Not when Benedict Arnold here's ruined my life, my wedding, lied to me, shot me, kidnapped me, made me… pump his gas…"

"Alright," she huffed, Riley ripping the receipt from the slot irately. "I'm sorry you weren't told anything and that the wedding was-"

"A scarring, unexpected disaster?"

"In not so many words."

He gave her a look. "I thought you weren't apologizing?"

"For being involved with Whittacre, no; I'm not apologizing for that," she made clear. "I'm apologizing for the way you have been treated, but it's only good if you stop being stubborn long enough to hear and consider it."

"Consider it…"

"I don't expect you to accept on apology from any of us. I don't think you should. We made the wrong decision."

"Yeah. I know."

"I can't apologize for them," she said, glancing between the two cars they were travelling in, "but I know that they aren't sorry for what we're doing now, just that we caused you a lot of unnecessary trouble. I'm sorry for that."

Riley shrugged. "I'm sorry that you're not sorry about Maddox."

Carolyn chanced the smallest smile. "I'm not sorry that you're sorry that I'm not sorry about Maddox."

"I'm sorry that… you're not sorry that I'm sorry that you're… not sorry about Maddox?"

"That's right," she laughed, glad to see the ghost of a smile lingering on his face.

He cleared his throat, not believing what a sudden turn their conversation had just taken. Despite the fact, he was actually glad to find some level of reconciliation with someone. Riley pushed passed his pride for the time being with a tired sigh, and he reached out for her hand, guiding her to him. Carolyn grew warm in his embrace, but she still felt undeserving of his forgiving gesture. She looked up at him.

"Be careful. And call me."

"I'll see you in a day or two. Unless you can somehow talk Ben into letting me come with you, which I doubt."

"You're safer with him."

He showed her his wrapped shoulder again and mocked her. "Hey, Carolyn, did you see the crater in my shoulder? Ben gave it to me. Wasn't that nice of him?"

"Trust me. A man who's brave enough to shoot his best friend to save him? You'd want to be with him," she assured. She gave him a quick kiss, heading off to the other car. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

x x x

Harper sat on a rock boredly, fist pushed up in his cheek. He and Priscilla watched Maddox pace the narrow dirt path in the thick of Devil's Den, checking his watch often. Why was Dominic graciously excused from this little meeting? His bout of jealousy for his coworker wouldn't relent. Harper hung his head as a half-heartedly trilled his lips. Then, he squinted at the rock below him.

P. NOEL

"Gates! Fortunate you and Abigail could make it," Maddox said with sincere politeness, extending his hand to Abigail. "I don't believe we've formally met."

"No," Abigail smiled cheekily, "I don't think so."

"Well, we are properly acquainted now. Ben, you may remember my assistant Priscilla," – the two exchanged a glare – "and this… is my meteorologist, Harper Kacy."

The young man looked up from tracing his fingers through the carved letters in the rock.

"Hey, who's P. NOEL?"

"P. NOEL?" Abigail asked. "Park Noel. He was an engraver in the area around the time of Civil War."

"Or, if you like the more creative, ghost hunter approach," Ben offered, "it was carved by the ghost of Pauline Noel, a girl thrown from a wagon and killed here in Devil's Den. But no such girl was ever proved to have existed here during that time."

Maddox gave his employee and Ben a similar look. Ben merely raised his eyebrows at Harper.

"It's bad luck if you trace it, so be careful in the future."

Harper withdrew his hand immediately and stood. Abigail hid a smirk.

"Not that I'm not intrigued by your bone chilling storytelling, but might we shove on?" Maddox asked.

"Sure," Abigail said, swinging her backpack around to retrieve the compasses.

"And where is Carolyn? I meant to ask sooner."

"She's continuing our hunt," Ben said, Maddox's face stiffening. He took the East Compass from Abigail as she held the North Compass. "We've got the next part figured out, and we're moving on."

Maddox stared a second longer before taking a step closer to them, humor written in his smile. "I doubt you've got it all figured out. And might I compliment the other compass you've brought along? Very nice," he said, eyes affixed to it longingly with wonder. "I suppose you're making some progress if you have this."

"It was my mom's, actually."

"You're mom's?" Priscilla repeated skeptically.

"Yes. I got it when she passed away recently."

"Oh, and you broke into the bank, that's right!" Harper said. They looked at him slowly. "What? It was on the news this morning. They've already linked you to it."

"Lovely," Abigail commented.

Maddox looked at the East Compass curiously. "How did your mother get this?"

"I don't know. But it's not as simple as me handing you that and walking away anymore," Ben said, nodding the North Compass in his wife's hands. "This was left to me to figure out something she wasn't able to finish, and you can be sure that I intend to do it."

"That was a very certain statement-"

"That was a promise," Ben assured him. He had a great hunch that Maddox knew more than he was letting on. "Here's the impasse; where do we go from here? Together. There's obviously two more compasses we need to locate-"

"You've gotten that far, have you?"

"It wasn't a hard conclusion to come to," Abigail said, turning the compass over to show him the 'N'. "North," – Ben turned his over – "and East. West and South would be next."

"But it makes a circle," Ben continued, "meaning the information is all connected in an ongoing pattern. It ultimately leads nowhere unless we can figure something out after getting all four compasses."

Maddox smiled. "My, you have been doing your homework. Excellent."

"We can explain the riddles to you if you help us where we need you. Carolyn is already after the next compass."

"You may think she is." Maddox pulled out an eyeglass case and opened it, unwrapped the fabric within, and held up the tiny gold pin as he snapped the case shut with a knowing smile. "This is what connects the compasses. It points you in the direction of the next in a clockwise fashion. You were handed those two compasses and made the educated guess that they were related by their riddles, and you were correct. But that's not going to be as easy when it comes to the other two."

Maddox walked up to Abigail and flipped over the compass, reaching over and doing the same to Ben's. Ben's eyes lit up when Maddox inserted the pin into the center and the arrow pointed directly at the one in his own hands. Harper and Priscilla were equally amazed. Maddox wore a boastful grin.

"It is not enough that you rely on the riddles, Ben, but the course you must follow to connect them. Likewise, you can gather all four compasses in a day with this, but without working out the clues, you're no closer to discovering the truth of Roanoke.

"When it comes down to it," Maddox deducted, "you need my pin, and I need your brain."

x x x

It was a quaint library of decent size. Riveted sofas, armchairs, and a few large wooden tables were positioned around the main room of the ground floor, a grandfather clock chiming somewhere amidst the large personal collection of dated volumes. In the center of the large room was a kind of circulation desk at which an old man sat stacking a set of books. Carolyn lifted Alex from his stroller at the front door silently as Patrick continued up the stairs to the second floor unseen. She shook out her snow-covered hair, removed Alex's puffy hood, and looked down at Charlie.

"Ready?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. Come on."

Carolyn smiled courteously as she walked up to the old man, Alex's babbling making him look up suddenly and set the stack of books aside.

"Hello, miss."

"Hi."

He smiled happily at Charlie. "Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm having some car trouble."

"Oh, that's awful," the portly man said, adjusting his tiny glasses. "Especially in this weather."

"Yeah, my boys and I were on our way back from New York-"

"Where's your husband?"

"Wh-? H-He didn't come with us. He's at home."

"Where you headed?"

"Uh, um, Virginia-"

"Oh, you guys have some nice beaches down there. My wife and I vacation there very summer near Norfolk. You from around there?"

Carolyn tried not appear irritated at the random questioning. "No."

"You sure? You look familiar. What's your name?"

"I- Lorraine Fairholm."

"Fairhome?"

"Holm."

"Oh. I was gonna say, I know some Fairhomes, but no Fairholms. What were you doing in New York?"

What was with the third degree?!

"Visiting family. Anyways, we had this, this really stupid jerk just serve at us out of nowhere-"

"Oh no…"

"- I ran into a ditch, and I don't know the area-"

"There's a garage over Loch Arbour on Emory Street. You want to call them and see if they can't give you a lift?"

Carolyn was finally able to nod, looking relieved. "I have a phone, but could I use the phone book?" She leaned over the desk in search of one as the old man laughed.

"It's in my office, dear, I'll just be a second."

"Can I come see your office?" Charlie piped up. Carolyn's cheeks reddened slightly, the old man looking back over his shoulder.

"Charlie, you stay here."

"Oh, nonsense. The boy can come," the old man said cheerily. "I have another stack of books to carry out, and you can lighten my load by carrying the phone book. Sound good?"

"Yeah! Can I go then?"

Carolyn sighed, adjusting Alex in her arms. "Behave. And come right back."

"Okay!"

The old man led Charlie back a short hallway of aged, stained wood. The wall at the end of the hall had yet another bookcase of fading hardcovers and wrinkled paperbacks, a few folders sticking out in some places. He was rambling on about something boring to do with how many books he had and how the snow had been really bad all winter, but Charlie paid no attention. The old man he thought smelled like the center of an old book that hadn't been opened in years walked into his office to the left. Charlie looked at the peeling paint on the doorframe and did not move.

"Let me see if I can find it here," he growled as he bent over behind a cluttered desk against the wall.

Charlie looked at the desk. "Do you have a phone in here?"

"I used to, but I moved it out to the main desk where I spend most of my time now. Perhaps I should move the phone book out there, too, h-?"

SLAM

"Hey!"

Charlie turned the doorknob a few times to make sure it was locked as the old man knocked on the wobbling panes of dirty glass timidly.

"Little boy! Unlock the door please! Just turn that little golden thing there above the knob!"

Charlie walked away.

"Hey! Little boy, come back!"

Carolyn looked up when she saw Charlie bound out of the hallway passed her, heading for the set of stairs. She quickly followed.

"Charlie! What did you do?"

"Locked him in like you told me to!"

"Well is he okay?"

"I saw a fridgerator in there. He has food."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Good to know."

At the top of the heavy wooden staircase, their footsteps were muted by a thin layer of dingy carpet. Carolyn and Charlie looked around the small lobby, pressed for time.

"Grandpa! Where are you?!"

"Shh!"

"Over here, Charlie!"

"Gahhhpa!" Alex screeched, leaning out of Carolyn's arms in the direction of Patrick's voice. Her eyebrows shot up as she followed Charlie.

"Is that considered a word?"

"No. He's too little to talk."

"Well he sure is trying."

Another small corridor took them to a room with a lower ceiling where Patrick was on his knees shuffling through a box of folders and other papers in front of a tall, freestanding cabinet. Carolyn went over and knelt beside him, watching him open a large portfolio gently.

"Have you found anything?"

"I just now found stuff on Greenleaf." Patrick slid a handful of letters out of a section of the portfolio carefully, turning them so that they could read them. "Look at the date," he said, pointing at the numbers in the top right corner. "May 1770. That's nearly a year after the Liberty Tree meeting he attended."

"And look who the letter's from," Carolyn said quickly, showing him the second page. A pleasing chill crept up her spine at the scrawled signature. Patrick seemed just as astonished.

"Paul Revere."

"Did Paul Revere attend the 1769 Liberty Tree Meeting Greenleaf was at?"

"Yes, he was there rallying. And look; he wrote quite a few letters to this Greenleaf fellow. Boy, did Frederick Gates miss an opportunity when he missed that meeting."

"But why was Paul Revere writing to Greenleaf?"

A deep, crashing echo came from downstairs. Carolyn recognized it as the old man probably trying to ram his shoulder against his office door for escape.

"Let's figure it out later," she decided, getting up.

"Good idea."

Patrick collected the letters into the portfolio and rebound it, handing it to his youngest grandson in Carolyn's arms.

"Hold tight to that, little guy." He handed Carolyn the car keys. "I'll be right out."

"Okay. Come on, Charlie."

With luck on their side, they were able to make it downstairs quickly and quietly. Patrick left them as they went out the door, and he headed back to the tiny hallway where the banging was coming from. The old man's blows to the door were becoming weaker as he panted and leaned against the window longer. Patrick unlocked the door and let him out.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Fine, just… this woman's little boy locked me in. Did you happen to see anyone?"

"No. No, I just heard you from the street and wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Well thank you."

Patrick smiled, taking leave. "Take care."

x x x

Ben stared at his opponent, the woman beside him keeping her eyes intense in the sunny afternoon light. Whereas Ian was his accomplice and then his enemy, it now seemed that Maddox was just the reverse. There was just no time for either of them to do it alone, and their unspoken tempers enflamed in their eye contact was all that made it known.

"Are they going in the wrong direction?" Ben asked him.

"Hard to tell, considering I'm not with them and they don't have the East Compass."

"If they figure out this clue and find the next compass," Abigail said, "that's where the dead end will be."

"Unless they have this, which they don't." Maddox pulled the tiny gold pin out of the North Compass, and the arrow went back to obeying its magnetic call due north. He moved over to Ben and placed it in the center of the East Compass, the arrow of it circling until it read north-northeast. Ben looked up; Allenhurst should be almost directly due east. Although this was the location of the next compass, not the location of the information Carolyn and his father were obtaining.

"So how about," Maddox offered, "we go have a talk and get on the same page. Then we can collect the rest of your party and move on."

Abigail looked from Ben back to Maddox. "Where are we going?"

"Just to have bite. I'm famished!" he laughed. "Priscilla saw this really good place on the way here. I wouldn't mind spending a few hours in it while we discuss this over a good meal."

x x x

Sally jumped up from the plush red seat again and gripped the edge of the open carriage excitedly, her blonde hair. Riley reached out and put his arm around her belly, again, as a precaution that she didn't launch out of the carriage at one of the hundreds of boring monuments.

"Culp's Hill, Uncle Riley! The Union defenses made a fishhook here!"

Even though Riley knew that she was probably inaccurate in whatever she was saying, the fact that she was rambling off history-related anecdotes made her all the more like her father every day.

"Fishhook, huh?"

"There's a tower at the top, and we should go climb it!"

He sighed, catching the coachman with a smile. "You are fearless, Bonnie."

"Can we go up it?"

"We'll see. Just enjoy the horsey ride for now."

Sally stood on her tiptoes more as they went around a gradual bend, and Riley jumped when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and flipped it open.

"Yyyello?"

"Riley, it's Abigail."

He sat up at the softness of her tone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, we're fine. We met with Whittacre."

"And?"

"Ben and I are going to go talk this over with him. It's our only option right now."

Riley's shoulders fell, and he shut his eyes. "Just… Be careful what you say, Abigail."

"We've got it under control. He's upset that Carolyn wasn't here-"

"Like I'd let her anywhere near him," he huffed, grabbing Sally as she leapt up for the umpteenth time.

On the other end, Abigail smiled, walking behind the rest of the group with Ben glancing back at her every so often. "I need you to take our car and get Sally to Allenhurst. Just in case."

"Alright. Did he threaten us or something?"

"No, but he has this pin that locates the compasses, and we need to negotiate with him."

"A pin?" Riley asked doubtfully.

"You put it in the center of the compass where the arrow rotates, and it points steady at the next one," Abigail explained. "Maddox showed us. Even if Carolyn and Patrick figure out this next clue, we have no idea where the compass is."

Riley blew a raspberry. For some reason, this routine obstacle was still giving him a headache and was incredibly annoying. However, typical. Purely typical.

"Wonderful."

"Tell them when you get there. And be careful."

x x x

"Don't worry, I will," Harper promised begrudgingly.

Priscilla put the dead weight of the handgun in his open palm and dropped a set of car keys on top of it. He looked up at her quizzically.

"There's a white Acura a few blocks straight ahead."

"Oh. Who are the two you want me to shoot in cold blood now?"

"Carolyn Howe and Riley Poole. Take the children and Gates's father and bring them back to us."

"Why the old guy?" Harper asked slowly.

"Where do you think Ben learned all of his history from?"

"A library."

Priscilla's eyes darkened, and the palpitations of Harper's heart grew. He lowered his head, eyeing the gun guiltily.

"Sorry."

"Call Maddox on your way back. Poole should be leaving any minute. You can catch up with him on the turnpike if you leave now."

Harper nodded eventually, avoiding her eyes. He began to walk away. "Right. I'll… call you."

x x x

Patrick had taken the liberty of reserving them a suite at the Empress Hotel in the neighboring coastal town of Ashbury Par during the drive to Allenhurst. Carolyn had seen all the lighted bars and tropical foliage in hotels around the world since the discovery of Oak Island's treasure, but Charlie still expressed great enthusiasm over the gorgeous décor.

In the suite, Charlie plopped into the armchair next to one of the large glass patio doors and turned on cartoons. Patrick sat Alex on the floor with a bag of toys, the baby immediately digging through them.

"Keep it down, boys. Carolyn and I are busy. If you need something important, though, come get us. Stay here and be good, okay?"

"Okay, Grandpa."

Patrick smiled at them. Charlie had his grandmother's undying inquisitiveness, and Alex, to everyone's surprise, had her brown eyes.

Her lovely, dark brown eyes…

"Patrick?"

He started, heading over to the snowy oceanfront alcove where Carolyn was pouring over the letters in the aging portfolio. Patrick sat on the edge of the chaise opposite her, a small glass table spread with yellowing pages pulled between them.

"What'd you find?"

"A lot," Carolyn half-laughed, reaching for one of the letters. "Paul Revere met Greenleaf at the Liberty Tree meeting in 1769. Not only was Paul Revere a Grand Master Mason, but he and Samuel Adams were the leaders of the Sons of Liberty in Massachusetts. Does that mean they were descendants of the Lost Colonists?"

Patrick shook his head. "No. A lot of Sons were recruits. The ones that were also Masons, don't forget, were hiding the Templar treasure at this time, and they got involved with the Sons of Liberty because of word of their own treasure. At least that's what I got from the letters so far."

"Yes, apparently," Carolyn continued, "Paul Revere found out about the Lost Treasure and kept contacting Greenleaf and offered to hide it with the Templar Treasure."

"Where did he want to hide it? In New York?"

"No," Carolyn said, making a face at her own peculiar answer. "Oliver kept declining. He wanted to keep the treasure separate, but Paul Revere still thought it should be hidden from the British. He wrote about… the Boston Lighthouse."

Patrick sat back at the mention of this location. Carolyn was confused. "How?"

"The Lost Treasure may have been there," Patrick said. "The British destroyed it during the Revolutionary War, possibly looking for gold, either Lost or Templar. Nothing was found, though, and it was rebuilt in 1783. It had to have been moved before the attack."

"But where?" Carolyn pressed, searching through the letters for anything that might catch her eye. "Greenleaf would not let the Lost Treasure be integrated with the Templar gold."

Patrick picked up one of the letters he had yet to read as she continued to shuffle the others around. It was dated 9 June 1770. He skimmed it with intrigue.

"We're so close," Carolyn murmured, rereading one of the latest letters. "We have to be."

"Listen to this," Patrick said after a moment. Carolyn was perched on the edge of the chair as he said, "Paul Revere found a hiding place for him, separate from the Templar Treasure. Oliver didn't know where though. There's a single line here that's encoded somehow. It's a message or a riddle.

"What's it-"

Click.

Patrick and Carolyn looked up abruptly as the door opened. Their building fearful anticipation was cut off, though, when Riley came in with Sally running over to join her brothers. Carolyn stood shakily, smiling at him despite wondering why in the world he had just shown up.

"Riley!"

She went over and enveloped his snow-covered puffy coat, kissing him. Riley looked at Patrick sheepishly, but Ben's father just gave a small smile.

"How's your shoulder?"

"Still cratered."

Tired and holding Carolyn to him for walking support, she led him over to the alcove.

"Where're Ben and Abigail?" Patrick asked.

"With Whittacre," Riley told them, removing his coat and setting it on the desk. "They need to negotiate I guess, and Abigail said to come meet up with you in the meantime."

"Negotiate what?" Carolyn asked.

Riley flung his arms out to his side lazily. "I don't know. Maddox has this pin that makes the compasses point to each other when you put it in the center axel? Abigail said that even if you figure out the next clue, it's not going to help you find the compass as easily."

Carolyn's shoulders fell. "Great."

"Well it looks like you've gotten far, though," Riley said, grabbing the desk chair and sitting beside her. "Is this everything you found on Oliver Greenleaf."

"And Paul Revere," Patrick said." The two corresponded for a while. He was trying to find Greenleaf a place to hide the Lost Treasure separate from the Templar Treasure, and before you came in, I think I found what we've been looking for."

"What is it?" Carolyn asked quickly.

"Okay, this is what is says: 'Find your pearl where the massacre rests.'"

Patrick looked up at Carolyn, the wheels spinning fast in their heads. "What do you think it means?"

They turned to Riley at the same time, and he held up his hands.

"Don't look at me. 'Call Ben' has always been my answer."

x x x

Outside the Empress Hotel, Harper looked at the shotgun in his hand, feeling it become heavier every second that he held it.

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