Phantoms In Philadelphia Read Online Free Page A

belongings,” she accused.
    I shrugged as I stepped further into the temple.
“When I awoke this morning, I remembered that Penelope does not
know our address.”
    Bess pushed to her feet, a grim expression on her
face. “Now that you are here you may help me.”
    She strode to the door, and after another glance
around the room, I followed. I helped her carry the body of a
small, but heavy man into the temple, placing him next to the
other. Whoever those little men were; they were not the enemy.
    We went out of the temple shutting the doors, and
she ran around the building, disappearing into a copse of trees
only to emerge again with her horse Pegasus. I went to my horse
Brutus and mounted him. She did not say a word as we rode through
the trees. It was not until we reached the main road that she
spoke.
    A dark cloud descended upon me as I listened to what
had happened at that temple. Giant’s, incantations, and mysterious
black boxes were stories usually belonging to fairy tales. Pierre
being captured was a great loss for us, but Bess was determined to
find those responsible. Then she told me that George had been
taken. For a moment, I could only stare at her in disbelief.
    “What is the plan?” I demanded when I realized she
was not jesting.
    “First, we find the giant and retrieve the black box
and then I will send a note to the Washington Phantoms and set them
onto locating Pierre. After that, we will go home and find George
and the people who took him,” Bess said, removing her mask before
riding onto the main road heading toward the city. “I do not see
the giant, so we will trot and wait for him to overtake us.”
    It was only a few minutes before we heard another
rider coming up behind us. When he passed us, I had to keep my jaw
from sagging. The man was a beast. I glanced at Bess, who nodded,
but said nothing. The giant was riding at a canter, so we picked up
pace following him into the busy city streets.
    We rode past where the President’s
house had been burned by the British during the war in 1814. The
exterior sandstone walls still stood, but the fire had destroyed
the interior, both floors and walls. Congress discussed rebuilding
the President’s house in another city, but President James Madison
wanted the house to be built exactly as it looked before the war,
to symbolize America’s determination, that both the nation and
government were here to stay. The same man who drew the designs for
the original structure was hired to oversee the rebuilding of the
President’s house. Workers were busy with
the reconstruction. President Madison still lived on Pennsylvania
Avenue, but in a townhouse down the road.
    The giant rode into a neighborhood where many of the
city’s merchants lived. We followed at a safe distance. When he
pulled up his horse outside a house, we rode past. At the end of
the street, we turned left, but at the first hitching post, we
dismounted.
    There was a narrow path too small to be a road that
ran behind the houses. Bess counted the houses, pointing to the
fourth.
    All the houses were small, brick structures, each
with a patch of grass behind it. We moved to the door on the back
of the house. With each step, my excitement mounted. The large man
had looked like a worthy foe, and I had never fought a giant
before. With our masks in place, I turned the knob and found it
unlocked.
    Bess gripped my shoulder before I
could open the door, saying, “I will create
a diversion while you retrieve the box. Do not, under any
circumstances, allow him within reach of you, and if you must,
shoot first.”
    I nodded, opening the door. She took the lead,
tiptoeing down a narrow passage toward the front of the house.
There was a small staircase a few steps from the front door, but
there were no doors on the right wall. The only room was to the
left of the stairs. The door was open, but from where I was
standing, I could not see into the room. The wood slats under our
boots did not make a sound as we