Page 202 - The Grotesque Children's Book

As she was holding the locket in her hands that evening, Carola to realize she didn't yet
have a plan how to return the locket without being noticed. The ladies in waiting were
always...waiting. They were always at their posts when Carola arrived for each session. The
jewelry and clothes were laid out in advance. By the time Carola showed up for her session, the
theft would already have been noticed, and the palace executioner waiting with his axe. Oops,
thought Carola. Unlike me not to have reasoned something out in advance. Maybe I'll not go
back. Maybe I will steal it. Maybe I'll sell the locket at the pawnbrokers, and then flee to, to, to

Switzerland or some place where they won't ever catch me. Yes, live under a different identity in
Switzerland with a pair of goats happily ever after. Or, she thought with a sigh, maybe I'll not

do that, but instead, do, do, something else. I'll figure it out in the morning. Meantime, as long
as I've stolen the locket, let me find out its secrets. At least I'll have those to cherish, however

long the rest of my life turns out to be.

She pulled it from her bodice whence she had dropped it. The locket was shaped like a
small box on a silver-and-pearls chain which then wrapped around to the back of the head,
completely a lovely, tasteful, tiara effect. The locket, Carola saw, was made of gold. Ah, you

box, what fiendish secret do you hide?

There was a stone on the top of the box: olive-shaped, in a deep blood-red color which
caught the light from Carola's candle, pulling it inside, as though capturing the very flame and
holding it captive. The locket-box was tiny; smaller than two thumbs put side by side. It was
inlaid with small inset squares made of pearl on three of its sides. Three pearls on each of three
sides; three sets of three. The fourth side of the box had engraved on it a figure of a salamander.
That's probably the front of the box, thought Carola, which would mean there ought to be some
sort of hinge on the backside. Ah, aha! Sure enough, on the backside near the top were tiny tiny
hinges, imperceptible at first glance unless you knew to look for them, which means...is there a
latch or a clasp on the front side? No, there was no latch, at least, not that Carola could see.
The locket appeared to be sealed tight. She put her ear to it and rattled it. It made no sound. She
turned it over, looking at the bottom. All gold. More etchings; some odd symbols she didn't
recognize, some sort of Greek letters probably. Maybe that's some sort of code, she thought.

Though why Lady Bianca would inscribe a code onto the very box it would open...that doesn't

seem likely -- and if she were trying to tell the code to others who wished to open the box, why

wouldn’t those instructions be in Italian so we could read them? Oh, you’re over-thinking it,
Carola, just look for a secret latch. Carola gave the box a slow turn in her hands, fingering the
etchings, touching the inlaid pearl squares, one of which suddenly gave way slightly when she
pressed on it. What! startled Carola. Did I just imagine that? She pressed it again. It depressed
into the surface of the box imperceptibly with a faint faint click. She pressed the next one. It,
too, depressed and made a clicking sound! She looked closely at the inlaid squares. They
seemed to be made of slightly different kinds of pearl, for each had a very slightly different
sheen to it. The first she had pressed had a vague blue sheen to it; the second reflected a
traceable pink color, almost red. The third reflected on the yellowish side. She pressed it as
well. A third click. Is this some sort of locking mechanism? Do I need to press each one? She
rotated the box and looked at the backside. As with the left side, there seemed to be three

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