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"If we follow the pattern, that tangible giant is a place," Julian reasoned aloud.
"Of course!" A soft gasp escaped Aurora's lips, fragments of memory falling into place. "Giant's Cave," she breathed, meeting Mr. Scollard's approving gaze. "How could I have forgotten?"
"You were little more than a tot when I relayed that particular tale to you, Rory," the lighthouse keeper replied. "It was sleeping in your memory, awaiting the right time to be recalled. That time is now."
"I know of no Giant's Cave," Julian inserted, brows drawn in puzzlement. "Given the fact that I've encountered many of Cornwall's most noted smugglers, I find that odd."
"No, actually, it isn't." Aurora turned to her husband. "You see, Giant's Cave is not a cave at all—it's a village."
"A village? Impossible. I know every village in…"
"As you know this one," she concurred. "Only you know it by another name: Mousehole."
Julian's jaw dropped. "Explain."
"Gladly. Giant's Cave is Mousehole's true name, although no one refers to it as such. It was coined 'Mousehole' by boatmen who recognized its inaccessibility by any means other than water—'tis near impossible to reach by land."
"As the giants pursuing Tamara spilled forth into the Channel, so does Giant's Cave," Mr. Scollard murmured.
"So that's the connection," Aurora breathed. "Another coincidence that's not a coincidence at all."
"I'll be damned." Julian shook his head in amazement, then glanced at Mr. Scollard, a new awareness dawning in his eyes. "That sheds light on another particular phrase you used. In referring to the black cliffs, you said that not all peaks must be quite so towering or difficult to mount. Mount—as in Mount's Bay, the cove of water surrounding Mousehole, spanning the distance between Lizard's Point and Land's End."
"That's where I spotted the lighthouse," Aurora realized, her mind streaking back over the details she could recall of the waters just east of Land's End. "But there are no cliffs arising from the bay. There's St. Michael's Mount, that magnificent old castle that sits amid the bay—but its location is all wrong. It's east of Mousehole, and as a result, even farther away from Land's End. It's also hardly what I would call a tangible peak…" Abruptly she broke off and seized her husband's forearm. "The rocks—there were several formidable ones jutting out of the water." She pointed to James's inscription. "'A rock of strength'," she recited. "It makes perfect sense. I should have thought of it immediately. One of the rocks in Mount's Bay is the tangible peak that will lead us to the black diamond." Another quick glance at Mr. Scollard. "And I know just which rock it is."
Julian's head snapped around. "Go on."
"'Tis the second part of the legend Mr. Scollard told me all those years ago—and it, too, has just awakened in my memory along with its counterpart." Aurora's eyes began to dance. "There's a legendary rock in the waters leading toward the village which, unlike the other jagged peaks in the bay, is submerged, revealed only at low tide. It's name is Merlin Carreg—or translated, Merlin Rock. That's the rock in James's inscription, the one upon which we must stand to find the treasure." She gave a little skip. "Many merlins, many giants, no coincidences—it's all falling into place."
"Indeed it is." Julian's face was taut with excitement as he scanned James's inscription once last time, then held out the book for Aurora's inspection. "Read the closing phrase of James's inscription. It provides us with the last piece of crucial information we need. James's instructions are now abundantly clear, as is our course. Mousehole is on the coast near Penzance, some eight miles east of Land's End. Both Mount's Bay and Merlin Rock lie directly at its feet. We must await low tide. When that occurs, we'll row out to Merlin Rock and climb out onto it. And then, we'll gaze across Mount's Bay in a direct line to Mousehole, keeping Land's End in sight."
"But what is it we're seeking?" Aurora asked, scanning James's words to determine what her husband knew that she didn't. "Surely our great-grandfathers wouldn't choose a hiding place that's within clear view of every passing sailor."
"They didn't. Mount's Bay is navigated mainly by fishermen, all of whom sail along the coastline so as to avoid the very rocks you just mentioned. And should a few ships actually pass close enough by Merlin Rock to offer their occu
pants the precise view our great-grandfathers meant for us to see, those glimpsing it wouldn't have a clue they were beholding something of great significance."
"What exactly is it they'd be beholding?" Aurora demanded.
"The final piece of the puzzle: the highest peak."
"Mousehole's highest peak?"
"Exactly."
"But Julian, Mousehole is a small fishing village. There are no soaring cliffs, ridges, or moors there."
"There needn't be. Keep in mind what Mr. Scollard said—not all peaks must be quite so towering or difficult to mount. The peak we're seeking could be no more than a modest hill. The important thing is that it will be visible from where we stand, and it will be taller than all else surrounding it." Julian tossed a grin in Mr. Scollard's direction. "Remember: 'It all depends on what is being sought and who is doing the seeking'."
"You're an extraordinarily quick study," the lighthouse keeper praised.
"But of course. I am the Merlin, am I not?" Julian replied with a chuckle.
"Very much so," the older man concurred. "Very much so."
"So we stand atop Merlin Rock and gaze toward the highest point on Mousehole," Aurora interrupted, following Julian's reasoning. "And when we find it, we row in and begin our search."
"Right. We also bring a few things with us." Again he pointed at the inscription. "'Chart your path, then soar to the highest peak and the key to all life's treasures will be yours'. According to James, we've got to take Geoffrey's sketch and the strongbox keys with us when we row out to Merlin Rock."
