19th January

Dear Cecelia,
I have returned from my evening at the Sea Dragon Tavern, directions to which, I secured from the Sea Gypsy, another passenger on board the Vulcania. The tavern is not at all as I had pictured it, having previously visited the public house in Thirsk on only two occasions. I had imagined a cosy affair, but instead I found the tavern to be bursting at the seams with patrons in various states of inebriation, enjoying themselves in a rather more raucous manner than I am accustomed to.
The air hung heavy with the purple haze of cigarette smoke and the aroma of spilled spiced mead. The floor was sticky beneath my patent leather heels. I was not immediately able to locate Jack as I browsed the room before me. I thought it typical that he would keep a lady waiting. With a second, more thorough search of the room, however, I found the American positioned in one of the rear booths. The booth would provide us with a modicum of privacy where seclusion would be utterly impossible.
‘Lizzy!’
I remained unamused by the sight of Jack’s roguish smile as he waved me over. I gritted my teeth and determined not to react to his teasing tonight.
‘Hey, lighten up, Elizabeth.’
Hmmph. Sarcasm. This was not going to prove to be a simple task. With minimal effort on his part, our friend Jack seemed to grate on my nerves. As I took my seat opposite him, he shouted across the room to summons one of the waiters. I ordered a vodka, lime and soda water and Jack, a scotch, straight up.
‘I don’t see the point in spending money on a damn fine scotch, only to spoil it with ice or water.’ He winked at me and for a moment I was so flustered I found it impossible to answer, Cissy. He must find me terribly doltish!
Drinks and dinner ordered – two house specials which turned out to be a surprisingly delectable dish of grilled chicken breast with a mango chutney, all balanced precariously on a bed of rice – we began to discuss the business at hand.
Charles, it would seem, was working on an article which described in great detail, the upcoming travelling exhibition of the Global History Museum. The exhibition, entitled ‘Timeline: A History of Lemuria and its People’ is being prepared as we speak and is due to depart for London on February 1st. It was while working on this article, that Charles had the opportunity to catch up with his old chum, Jack during a research trip to New York and the Global History Museum. Charles had mentioned none of this to me. Certainly, I had known of his visit to New York, but was unaware of either his intentions while there or the existence of his friend from The Review. The trip had been rather successful by all accounts. The two friends had dined together at a men’s club, in close proximity to the museum, to talk over old times. There, they had witnessed what appeared to be a clandestine meeting between the museum’s curator and a well-attired, unnamed man. Jack, unable to contain his curiosity had attempted to move closer to the men as they conversed, but was only able to overhear the words ’scrolls’ and ‘power’. The curator then hurried from the club, appearing stricken. Jack is under the impression that further digging on the part of Charles, and the unearthing of a few of the scrolls’ secrets may be the cause of his inexplicable disappearance. Still more questions!
Jack is leaving for London at the earliest opportunity, before returning to New York to search for further clues. I am to spend the remainder of our time here at the Island of the Temple People keeping an eye out for any of my fellow passengers aboard the Vulcania who are not as they appear, and gathering as much information pertaining to the scrolls as possible. I fear I am not the most qualified for such a venture as this, but will do my damnedest to get to the bottom of Charles’ disappearance. I wished Jack the best of luck and supposed to meet with him again two weeks hence. His reply?
‘It’s a date then, Lizzy.’

He leaned closer as if to kiss me goodbye, but I hurried from the Sea Dragon as quickly as I could, Jack laughing heartily at my hasty retreat.

Elizabeth.