“Sophia! You’re awake now. Come and look at this. Quick!”
I looked down at the thick, yellowed piece of parchment she was extending in my direction.
“Be careful with that. Why is that even here? I brought only copies of the fragile documents.”
“I know. It fell out of one of the journals. We must have missed it. Good news, I think I might have found the location of the hidden room.”
I scanned the paper, struggling to make out some of the faded lettering. “Do you think it’s true? A false wall halfway down the stairs …”
“I don’t know. I guess so.” Her eyes were glowing with excitement, she lived for this stuff.
“Whose journal?”
“The Mystical advisor of Dunlace Castle.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m just teasing. I believe they would have referred to her as a witch. She offered the Lord her predictions. She’s the one who matched Sive up to marry. Clearly, she wasn’t very good, since they all died.”
I glanced out the glass doors of our cabin to where Cullen sat on the porch, having a drink with our client, Sam, and admiring the river view.
“Let’s keep this to ourselves until we can go over things more thoroughly,” I said.
Leslie looked conflicted.
“He’s still our client, Leslie. We have to maintain professionalism when it comes to the research. We can’t be running off half-cocked.”
“Fine. But you have ulterior motives.”
I snorted. “Speaking of ulterior motives, why do you think he’s so interested in this hidden room? What do you think is in there?”
“Who knows? Most likely it’s treasures or dead bodies.”
“Or both,” I laughed. “Come on, let’s join the boys.”
I slid open the door and the smell and sounds of the jungle rushed in. Such a nice change from the last hotel.
“There’s somethin’ mystical about this place,” Cullen said, leaning back into the planter’s chair. “The birds. The monkeys. The jungle. It smells of life.”
I patted Cullen’s shoulder in agreement. The view was a wondrous sight and, best of all, there was no history of violent robberies, or so the resort’s hostess had sworn.
The porch was shaded by lush greenery, tall lofty teak trees and swaying palms.
I could see that a sense of relaxation had settled over Cullen for the first time in months. Heck, I could feel it too.
I was actually looking forward to our temple visit in the morning. Soon this would all be over and we could all head back to Ireland. So many things to look forward to: the castle’s restoration, the wedding and possibly the opening of our very own bookstore.
The guide, Mani, had assured Cullen that this was the temple my great-grandmother had referred to in her stories. We could leave the curse behind, hidden within the sanctity of the temple walls, knowing the bejeweled items would be safe with Indra.
I stared at Sam. With his loosely slung scarf and camera strap hanging from around his neck, he looked the part of the rugged adventure photojournalist. He had jet black hair and wore glasses and although he stood about a foot taller than Leslie, I couldn’t help but think what a cute couple they made as he snapped a few photos of her looking out at the darkening mango grove. And yet something about him still bothered me. Cullen chalked it up to his resemblance to Liam. I had to agree. There was nothing he did or said that gave me pause; was it only that I was now having trouble trusting people or was my intuition screaming at me?
“How did you find this place, Sam?” I asked. “It’s so beautiful, but I don’t recall seeing it when I researched places in the area.”
“My boss mentioned it. She’s lived all over, and Paradise is one of the oldest resorts in the area.”
“You have a boss? I thought you were a freelance journalist?”
“I am,” Sam replied quickly, shifting in his chair. “I still tend to think of Sandy as my boss.”
“Which magazine is that? Or is it a newspaper you write most often for?”
“Actually it’s an online publication.”
Leslie came up beside me. “Sophia, come here for a minute? I need your opinion on something.”
She didn’t need to add since you seem to be full of them. I could tell that was coming next.
“I’m just talking to Sam.” I smiled innocently.
“Oh, well I’m sure he doesn’t want to think about work.”
I had no defense. She was right. I loved my job, but I didn’t feel like talking about it when settled into tranquil surroundings like we were now. It was just that I had so many questions. Like why was he in India? Why had we been bumping into him? He was so open when speaking to Leslie, but when it came to me, he seemed to clam up. Cullen had suggested I was giving off an angry vibe, and he wasn’t wrong. I was feeling irrationally hostile towards our new friend. The poor guy probably thought I was a huge bitch. Still, Leslie didn’t need any more jerks in her life, and if this guy had a wife and kids back home or if he was having an affair with his editor, I needed to flush it out.
“I’m sorry. I sound like the Spanish inquisition,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m just nosy and truthfully, I’ve always been intrigued by writers.”
Flattery had to get me somewhere, right?
“Of course, I get it. Ye’re a librarian—a knowledge seeker at heart. That’s why I hired ye.”
“Exactly, and the mind of a writer, or rather a journalist, as you are, fascinates me. I’d love to read some of your articles. Do you have a website?”
He reached into his camera bag. “Here’s my business card. Let me know which piece is your favorite.”
I nodded and then yawned as I took the card. Apparently after twenty-four hours, I still needed more sleep.
“It’s almost seven-thirty!” Leslie said, “I should go next door before I turn into a pumpkin. I like to read before bed, and maybe I’ll actually get to sleep before nine tonight.”
“Ye need yer beauty rest, especially if we’re after gettin’ up at the crack of dawn.” Sam said. “Allow me to walk ye. It’s on my way.”
“The guide’s not meeting us until nine. That’s not exactly the crack of dawn,” I said.
Leslie shot me a dirty look and then gazed back into Sam’s stupid lovey-dovey face. “That would be great.”
“You don’t have to go, Les,” I stammered. “Cullen will happily sleep on the couch.” I elbowed Cullen and he grunted but nodded his head yes.
“Aye, I just love the couch.”
“Stop. I’ll be right next door, Sophia. You need to chill out and have babies or something so that you have somebody else to fuss over.”
Babies? Good Lord, I wasn’t ready for that. Well then again, I was turning thirty in just over a month. Perhaps I needed to step on the gas.
I frowned, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. Still, I couldn’t help but feel the tension in my shoulders as Sam steered Leslie down the front steps of our bungalow.
I had no proof that this man would be bad for Leslie, and I didn’t want him to be, but if there’s one thing I’d learned, it was that not everyone could be trusted.
TWENTY-FOUR
Northern Ireland, November 1551
S ive looked out at the waves crashing against the rocks and thought of jumping. She’d sent a message to Conal to meet her at the cottage but he hadn’t come. She’d waited almost the whole day and now she was riding home along the cliffs, mulling over that fact that he hadn’t show.
“Sive!”
Sive jumped at the sound of her name.
“Where have ye been?”
She turned and saw the dark eyes of her Da marching towards her.
He reached up and caught her under the armpits, dragging her from her horse’s back. His face was white with rage.
“Da, I-” She started to lie about where she’d gone, but the sound of her voice seemed to madden him further. His mouth twisted, his eyes shot fire like twin volcanoes, and he rea
ched out to catch her by her upper arms as if he meant to shake her.
“I ought to take a whip to ye. Running away the day before yer wedding,” he growled. “And to meet O’Catháin!”
She couldn’t keep the surprise from her face.
“Have ye any notion what a bloody stupid thing ye did? Why, I should let Sorely Boy throw ye from this cliff! Did ye think we would no find out? What the bloody hell did ye think ye were about?”
He shook her, and her head whipped back once. Sive's hands came up involuntarily to grasp his wrists. Her eyes were wide as she met his furious gaze.
“Let’s get her back to Dunlace! We can discuss this more in private.” The words were Sorely Boys and were directed at Uilliam. Sive had been so focused on Uilliam that she hadn’t noticed him.
Uilliam's hands tightened on her arms, and Sive had to hold back a squeak. She knew he had forgotten that he was holding her, that he was not hurting her deliberately. His attention had shifted from her to Sorely Boy, his expression dangerous.
“Aye, I’ll allow her to explain herself at length later, and then she can beg yer forgiveness. And I’ll make one thing understood. “Uilliam looked back at his daughter. “Ye are marrying tomorrow. Under no circumstance, are ye to try to run off again. I want yer promise.”
His eyes bore into hers.
“I'll have yer word!” His hands were tightening on her arms again.
Sive met her father’s gaze with apprehension, but she was no less determined.
Uilliam practically gnashed his teeth when she remained silent. Staring up into his dark and wild eyes, feeling the sheer force of the body bending over hers, she had to remind herself again that this was her Da. That despite his vibrating rage, she was in no danger of bodily harm. The worst he would do was lock her in the tower or the dungeon and then Conal could rescue her.
“Yer promise, now!”
“Leave her to me! I’ll talk some sense into her.”
“She is still my daughter to discipline!” Uilliam hissed at Sorely Boy, who had stepped forward as Uilliam bent threateningly over Sive. But even as he was rebuking Sorely Boy, Uilliam's eyes never left Sive, who was practically hanging from his hands as he lifted her onto her toes by the strength of his grip on her. “Yer promise, Sive!”
“I dinna want to marry anyone but Conal. I would rather be thrown from this cliff.” The words were breathless but valiant.
Uilliam roared, the sound so loud that it almost deafened Sive for an instant. The lid was off his temper now, and no mistake. “Ye'll damned well do as ye're told, and I'm telling ye that if ye ever, ever pull such a stunt as todays again I'll lock ye away so that ye never see the light of day again.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Blood Moon, Southern India, Present Day,
I bent my head and climbed into the small black-and-yellow automobile. Cullen referred to it as a tuk-tuk while Sam called it an auto rickshaw. We’d mostly taken the train and bus so far throughout India but from what I’d seen in the streets I was more inclined to think of the vehicle as an abandoned theme park ride: three wheels, bright paint and lots of motion. Cullen was quick to follow me but he’d barely sat down before the rusty tin can roared to life. With the swift acceleration came a steady stream of dust and smog that clung to the air like steam, and entered the auto from the open sides. I leaned into Cullen’s side and buried my face in his shirt to stem the coughing. It was only nine in the morning, but he was already sweating. His deodorant and pheromones were hands-down better than the burning diesel fumes pouring in from the decrepit old bus speeding passed us. Hanging on to him for dear life also kept me from falling out the side of the vehicle as the driver darted in and out of traffic, zigzagging past an alarming variety of travelers—cars, buses, bicycles, scooters, pedestrians, stray dogs, and haughty, slow-moving cows.
After about ten minutes of open roads, the vehicle slowed again, encountering traffic as we passed through some sort of ramshackle village. Men made repairs to some of the huts. A woman stooped to bathe her children with water from a copper dish. Two men led goats down the road while others carried water in buckets.
I caught the attention of a child in the street. She couldn’t have been much older than eight. She ran over to me, laying her hand on my leg. “Me help you.” She motioned to a group of boys behind her. The whiteness of her eyes glistened against the darkness of her hair and skin.
“Aw, Cullen? I think she’s asking for help. She’s hungry.”
He leaned over and dropped some coins into her palm just as two older boys ran up and elbowed their way in. The older boy’s eyes grew wide when I looked at him, as if he recognized me. A vague memory popped into my brain from the day I was mugged.
Cullen was about to give them five rupees when I held up my hand. “Wait.” I turned to the boys. “I know you.”
The boys backed away.
“Don’t run.” I called after them, but they were already gone.
I leaned out the side as the tuk-tuk took off.
“Everything okay, Aeval?”
“I think those were the boys that mugged me.”
“What?” Cullen shouted. “Why didn’t ye say so? I’d have grabbed the wee buggers.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure until they ran.” Cullen leaned out the side but I knew the boys were long gone. I was counting the minutes as the tuk-tuk forced its way down a narrow beat-up street, hitting several large potholes while avoiding the never-ending stream of pedestrians.
As we exited the alley, we randomly bounced from one lane to another before hitting the countryside, and eventually the perfectly manicured lawn of the Airavatesvara Temple.
We climbed from the taxi and I spotted our guide, Mani, standing just inside the smooth stone walls of the entrance. He was pacing. I checked my phone. We weren’t that late. It’s not like things ran on time in this country anyway. What was his problem? I tossed Cullen a look. “I wonder where Les and Sam got to. They left ahead of us.”
“Relax, Aeval. They’ll be here. Ye know what traffic is like here and not all drivers take the same route.”
“True,” I said in agreement. “But doesn’t something just feel off to you about Sam. And this doesn’t look like the temple to me.”
“How do you know what it looks like? And it’s cute that ye’re jealous, Sophia, but ye know I’m yer mate, right? I don’t wanna have to fight Leslie for yer hand in marriage. I’m not above wrestling a pregnant woman but I’m not exactly for it either.”
“Stop referring to her as pregnant…She’s getting an abortion and I’m not jealous… Okay, yeah, maybe a little. We have been spending a lot of time with her. But that’s not what this conversation is about. You know she’s like a sister to me, and I just don’t want to see her hurt again so soon.”
“Your heart is big and ye’re scared for her, and ye’ve a right to be. My brother was an arsehole, but not every lad is like him, and while this Sam fella might not be y’er cup a tea, he’s obviously Leslie’s, so let’s cut him a break until he proves otherwise.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. He was right.
“Here we go.” I whispered patting my bag where the jewels were safely stowed. “Let’s pray that this is the place.”
Cullen squeezed my hand and we headed for the entrance. Leslie and Sam had beaten us there and were already waiting inside just out of sight from where we’d been dropped off. Cullen tried not to gloat.
After an hour of walking and the initial background spiel on the area, our guide, Mani, led the way up a staircase to the hall of pillars. I ran my hand along the elephant trunk that acted as a banister while Mani talked about the thumbnail sized carvings that made up the place. Unlike the other sites we’d visited the last couple of weeks; this place oozed mystery, with colonnades, candles and Ganeshes but it didn’t look like the place I’d seen in my vision. Then again, the vision had taken place at least five hundred years prior so perhaps they’d built up and around it.
Mani wiped the sweat from his forehead. For a local, this guy sure did sweat a lot. I mean we were all soaked, but we weren’t accustomed to this heat. I couldn’t imagine living in a place where you never adjusted to the temperature. Then again, I was from Canada, where the air in the winter hurt my face.
I turned to head back down the steps.
“Next we’ll go to the Darasuram Temple, where Indra’s cursed white elephant had its color restored in the sacred waters.”
We walked until we stood in front of a huge stone carved chariot drawn by horses. Again, like the other temples, the ruins, the overall beauty of the ancient city struck me. It was so easy to get lost in the fine ministrations of brush on stone and lose sight of why we were here.
Cullen, who was clearly not feeling the beauty, rolled up one of the sleeves on his white cotton shirt. “This is all very nice, Mani, but is there a chance ye could get on with it already and take us to the statue of Indra? We’re anxious to see it.”
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. It was time.
“As you wish,” Our guide whispered, his Hindi accent flavoring his words.
TWENTY-SIX
Northern Ireland, November 1551
S ive looked down at the wedding gown she’d been forced into and wished for the hundredth time that things were different and that she could be happy. She’d dreamed of this day for so long but she’d never imagined Sorely Boy, Warrior Chieftain of the MacDonnell Clan, standing at the end of the aisle.
Conal had put the heart crossways in her when he hadn’t shown at the cottage a week ago but now that she knew why—that he’d never received her message to meet—she had hope once again. Faith burned inside of her that he would show and fight for her hand.
Still, he was leaving it to the last minute, to be sure. She’d give him an earful once they were together and safe.
She sighed and walked to the vaulted window to savor the view. The unceasing white, lace-capped waves crashed against the cliffs. If she were forced to live without Conal then she’d join them.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 53
