The Princess and the Pirate, ch 22, The Vault of the Trawcots

Matthew stood in the darkness as Christopher closed and locked the door to the tunnel behind them. As his eyes adjusted to the new light, he realized the walls held a vision he had never seen anywhere in his life. Matthew was surrounded by smooth, wet surfaces. Stalactites hung down from the high ceiling like monstrous teeth from a prehistoric shark. Stalagmites rose from the floor like magical termite mounds born of mystical creatures. The walls were not unlike the walls of any cave dripping with water, yet glowing—they weren't just catching the light—flecks of gemstone coated every aspect of the cave room.

Natural curiosity drove Matthew to stretch out his naked hand to touch the nearest stalagmite. It felt like wet stone. Rather than being smooth, as most stalagmites are, it felt rough, scratchy, and even sharp in places. The flecks of gemstone glowed all the brighter at his touch, and they dimmed as his hand disconnected with them. The oddly satisfying feel of the stone drew him to continue touching. Instead of being cold—as most stone within caves are—this stone felt warm and—he almost could not believe he was thinking it—alive. The colorful flecks seemed to move with him the way a dog will when you pet it, though the flecks were much smaller.

As Matthew grew accustomed to the feel of the stone, he realized the cave smelled like flowers. The subtle scent gently soothed him rather than suffocating or gagging him. He could see no flora about the place, yet the smell was unmistakeable.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Christopher said, startling his companion.

As Matthew jumped, he jerked his hands back from the stalagmite.

Christopher reassured him: "It's all right. You can touch them."

"What are they—these glowing flecks of gemstone, I mean?" Matthew asked, completely enthralled in the curious find.

"They are a little hard to explain," Christopher answered with a little hesitation in his voice. "We call them 'Trawcots.' They are beautiful treasures, but they do not belong to us. We are only their keepers and guardians."

Matthew turned his attention away from the Trawcots and onto Christopher. "Who do they belong to?"

"I could not tell you, but the trawcots come out of the stone only when their owners touch them. Otherwise, they simply glow at the touch."

Matthew turned back toward the trawcots he had been examining. "What happens if you try to take them out of the stone or break off a piece of the stone?"

"I hope you never try, because if you do, the trawcots make a maddening sound that will drive you to insanity. You would never be able to get them out." Christopher watched Matthew intently, searching for the other's motives in asking such a question.

Matthew began running his fingers over the trawcots again. Then he said thoughtfully, "What if you were deaf? Would they come out if the person were deaf, able to completely ignore the maddening sounds?"

Christopher said, "Actually, no. Only the thief would be able to hear the sounds—they are produced within the thief's mind. If, for example, we were standing right next to each other, and you tried to steal even one of them, only you would hear the sound. It would cripple you. If you did not desist after it crippled you, it might even kill you. I've seen the crippling happen only once in my lifetime and only heard tales of a death. It is extremely rare for anyone who is untrustworthy to be in this place."

Matthew took in Christopher's statement slowly and carefully, like one who is trying a new food that neither looks nor smells appetizing. "What is this place called?"

"It is simply the Vault of the Trawcots."

"I'm trying to figure out why that sounds so familiar."

"It is what the pirate king has been after his entire life. He has wanted to take over Christeland to rule, and he wants the trawcots for himself. He has never understood, I don't think, that he could never use them for himself. I'm sure you have overheard him talking about them with someone during your childhood."

"You're probably right," Matthew replied matter-of-factly. "They are beautiful, aren't they?"

"They are even more beautiful in the hands of their owners. Their beauty imbibes all the senses. They look beautiful, sound incredible, smell delectable, and feel delightful. Listen. We really need to go now. The king and queen are waiting for us."

Matthew followed Christopher to an opalescent doorway. It slid open at his touch, and the pair entered a small chamber that softly glowed with light. The walls, ceiling, and floor appeared to be completely ensconced with board-like sheets of mother of pearl. The opalescent door closed.

Christopher said authoritatively, "The Throne Room," and the two men were whisked away through the obviously huge vault. The chamber finally came to a stop some ten minutes later. The door slid open, and wonder met their eyes.