She glanced up at the sky. It was late June, but the day was overcast, cloudy, cool, and gray. She'd worn comfortable clothing: a long colorful tunic with black, blue and teal designs over tight black leggings and ankle-high boots. She'd brought her favorite denim jacket in case the weather turned cooler. Kendra squinted up at the sky again. More likely she would need the raincoat folded at her feet.
"It's a grand day, ain't it?"
Kendra looked over at Sean and quickly slipped the lens cap off the camera around her neck. The young man sat gazing at the circle, his thin face ruddy with the wind, looking delightfully English and at the same time, like something out of a heavy metal rock video.
"Pictures!" He chirped as he heard the click and spun around. His blue eyes were round with excitement. "Kin I 'ave one to take to me ma? Please?"
"Well, these have to be developed, but—hang on a minute." Kendra rummaged in the pack at her side until she found her camera that produced instant pictures. She took several shots of the boy and a few minutes later smiled as he beamed down at the photographs in his hands. Again she was amazed at the contradiction in the lad, so innocent, yet with a streetwise assurance.
"Thanks, love. I hope you see something tonight. I seen all kind of strange things out 'ere."
"Here? In this field?"
He nodded. "Me ma told me this be a place where the old 'uns used to do their magic—back ages ago."
Kendra cocked a doubtful eyebrow at him. "Oh, come now, Sean, surely you don't believe in that sort of thing?"
The boy flushed. "It sounds daft to someone like you, but you ain't seen the things I seen 'ere. No need ta worry though, I'll protect you."
"You will, eh?" Kendra said, unable to stop the amused smile from spreading across her face. "And how do you propose to do that?"
"With this." The boy reached inside his jacket and to her astonishment pulled out a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum.
"What in the—" she burst out, then recovered quickly. She had to figure out some way to get the gun away from the boy without alienating him. It was silly, but she liked the kid and hated to injure his apparently newly budding masculine ego. "Wow. That's pretty amazing. Where'd you get something like that in England?"
"My brother," Sean said, smoothing his hand lovingly over the barrel of the weapon then sighted down the length of it, his finger causally resting on the trigger. Kendra shifted nervously beside him. " 'E lives in London 'e does," Sean went on. " 'As a sort of business there where 'e acquires stuff like this, if ya know what I mean." He winked at her and Kendra summoned a knowing laugh, though her brows puckered worriedly together.
"What are you doing with it?" she asked. "I mean, isn't it kind of dangerous to carry it around? If you were stopped by the police—"
"Aw, I ain't scared of the police," he scoffed, straightening his shoulders proudly. "My brother taught me how to get around them boys."
"I see," Kendra said thoughtfully. "You know, Sean, I'm very glad you brought this along because I wasn't able to bring the gun I usually carry on assignments and I feel very unprotected. Do you suppose you might lend it to me until I leave England? I could even pay you a rental fee."
Sean's face dropped at her words until he heard the words "pay" and "rental." "Cor, love, o' course you can. I trust you."
He turned the gun toward her and Kendra hastily reached out and took the weapon from him, pointing it toward the ground. He grinned at her and she tried to return the gesture but found her response shaky at best.
"Thanks," she said, shoving the gun into the satchel bag she carried. "I promise I'll return it to you at the end of the week." After I have a little talk with your parents, she told herself grimly.
"Just keep it handy, love. No tellin' what may happen here tonight."
Kendra nodded absently, then peered around the large stone again. It was centered at the top of a small rise, and from her vantage point she could see the entire circle. The circle was about sixty yards in diameter, with a wonderful swirling pattern that began at the center, flowing out with perfect symmetry to the tall growth at the edges.
From her research she knew that this was a very large circle, perhaps the largest ever discovered. She itched to get a closer look and find something to expose it as a man-made hoax. Once it was completely dark, she intended to sneak down and take some close-up shots with her new camera, then sit there and wait out the night.
She turned the camera over, admiring it for a moment. It had been a long ago gift from Mac. Kendra smiled and ran her fingers across the metal plate on the back that had her name engraved on it for identification. It wouldn't be long before she'd be back on the international beat Of that, she was certain. In the meantime, she'd do her best Maybe she could write an expose called, "I Spent the Night in a Crop Circle."
Kendra lifted the camera and peered through the lens. One way or another she was determined to wring an exceptional story out of this assignment, preferably by finding Professor McKay. It wasn't Pulitzer material, but she had to admit, begrudgingly, she was enjoying herself. For the first time in a long time, she felt relaxed, except for the tension of anticipation, of course. If she ever lost that, she'd give up journalism forever. She shifted position to sit on her knees and glanced up at the overcast sky. Almost dark enough. She lowered the camera, then picked up the instant camera and slid its strap around her neck too, before settling back to wait.
She guessed she'd dozed off. for how long she wasn't sure, but suddenly a tremendous roar in her ears shook her awake. Instantly alert, Kendra sprang to her feet and saw the sun had completely disappeared and all the other reporters and media people were gone. The wind swept across the field with a sudden intensity, sending a cold chill down her spine as a fine rain began to mist and the clouds above her head rolled like angry combatants on a churning sea.
She reached beside her for the raincoat she'd brought along.
"Here, Sean," Kendra said over the rising sound of the wind, "put this over you."
"Cor, not unless you gets under it too."
Seeing the sense of his generous offer, she huddled beneath the disposable plastic coat she'd bought at the airport, shivering with the boy whose eyes had grown large and round.
"You aren't scared, are you, Sean?" Kendra asked, trying to keep the tone of amusement out of her voice.
"Me?" He shook his head. " 'Course not." The next crack of thunder made him jump and he glanced at her sheepishly. "I ain't scared," he said again, more forcefully.
She laughed. "Well, I am," she lied. Actually Kendra felt exhilarated, buoyed up, the way she always did when in the midst of covering an exciting or dangerous story. Her pulse quickened as she looked up again. The moon had risen, full and bright, but now, cloaked in the mist of rain, it seemed mystical and surreal.
"If we can just hold out a little longer," she said into Sean's ear, "I think that—"
At that moment, lightning split the sky in half. The wind, howling like a wounded dog, kicked into high gear and churned the air, tearing across the open field, sending Kendra sprawling to her knees.
"Cor, love," Sean whispered, "here it comes."
Kendra wiped the back of her sleeve across her face. "H-here comes what?" she stammered, stumbling to her feet.
"Hold on to the rock!" the boy cried, his fingers biting into the stone.
Without questioning the order, Kendra flung herself against the huge outcropping and clung to it as a sudden, incredible force swept down upon her as though determined to sweep her away.
Seeing her distress, Sean inched his way around the rock toward her, until his young, wiry arm encircled her waist. She was grateful for the support, but worried about his own precarious hold.
"I've never seen weather like this in England!" she shouted, trying to be heard above the tumult.
"I've seen it here, lots of times!" he shouted back.
Deciding to save her strength to hang onto the rock, Kendra pressed herself more solidly against the hard surfac
e, when everything went suddenly still. As abruptly as the wind and rain had begun, the turmoil ceased.
Kendra released her death grip on the stone and took an unsteady step from behind it. "Wow. Are you all right?" He nodded. "C'mon, let's see if the circle's been damaged by the wind."
"I don't know if that's such a good idea."
Kendra laughed. "Oh, don't be silly, Sean. This is an adventure." She started walking down the incline and then stopped and glanced back at him. He stood fidgeting a moment, then bolted.
"I'm sorry, miss, but I think I hear me mum callin' me!" he shouted as he tore down the incline, across the adjoining field and down the road. Kendra stared after him open-mouthed. She burst out laughing and it took a good minute to bring herself under control.
"Tough guy, huh?" she taunted aloud. "Well, at least I have the gun and if I run into any unfriendly aliens I'll be well aimed. Thanks Sean, for the tour."
With a sigh Kendra hefted her bag onto her shoulder. Reaching inside, she took out a small flashlight and turned it on. She headed down the incline, looking for one of the tramlines left by the farmer who had planted the field. If she walked down its path she wouldn't disturb the overall picture of the circle. Trudging along, wishing she'd worn heavier boots, Kendra found the tramline and was soon striding resolutely through the waist-high barley, toward the infamous circle. A crackling sound behind her made her draw up short and whirl around.
"Sean?" She smiled into the misty haze now settling over the field. Maybe the boy had regained his nerve. "Is that you?"
Silence answered her, along with a sudden surge of wind that briefly lifted the wisps of hair escaping from her long braid and used them to tickle her face. Kendra pushed the hair away from her eyes, and giving one last searching glance behind her, headed toward the circle again.
As she got closer to the patch of pressed-down grain, Kendra began to feel a little light-headed and she paused, fighting the sense of vertigo. Shaking her head to dispel the dizziness, she moved forward, but found that with each step she took, her body seemed to grow heavier, her steps slower. She heard a crackle behind her. Laughing nervously, Kendra shot a cautious glance back over one shoulder.
"Sean, it's all right that you were scared. But you've got to feel this. I think I've discovered one of your 'strange happenings.' " Her heart beat a little faster as her gaze swept the smoky semidarkness. Was it Sean playing a practical joke on her? She liked the boy and found it hard to believe he would trick her this way unless—she turned around thoughtfully—unless the whole thing had been some kind of set-up.
Holding herself perfectly still, Kendra took a deep breath and waited. A misty breeze curled around her face and in her nervous state of mind, Kendra imagined ethereal fingers touching her. She swallowed hard, then began to scold herself aloud.
"Don't be absurd," she said brightly, breaking out of her statuesque pose and moving laboriously toward the circle. One more step, and then another, and she was at the edge of the circle. "This is nothing compared to—"
This time the sound came from in front of her. A popping sound, like a lightbulb being thrown on cement, Kendra thought. She took a step backward and her flashlight went dead.
"No…" she whispered into the blackness as a mélange of blue lights appeared in the center of the circle. They moved upward, hovered for a moment, then moved twenty or so yards to the left of the crop circle and began to spin.
She stood frozen for a moment before the reporter inside took control and propelled her into action.
A crop circle forming! No one on earth had ever photographed a crop circle as it formed. Maybe Mac was sharper than she gave him credit for and this story might be worth something after all!
Kendra hurried across the field, her satchel bouncing against her bag as she shed her instant camera and shoved it into the zippered opening. Careful to stay within the tramlines, she stopped about thirty feet away from the lights, where she lifted her camera toward the shimmering blue orbs above.
"Wow," she breathed, unaware she'd spoken. Unconsciously she lowered the camera as blue lights danced in a silent choreography. It was the most beautiful, mesmerizing sight Kendra had ever seen. She stood, mouth open, like one paralyzed, as the incandescence swirled above the ripe grain. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she lifted the camera again and pointed it at the phenomenon, when all at once she felt something tug her forward sharply until she was sprawled five feet closer to the forming circle.
She gasped and felt it again, but this time it was a steady force not unlike the wind a few moments before, propelling her forward.
Except there was no wind.
Magnetic was the only adjective Kendra could lend to the sensation in her mind, coupled with a feeling similar to static electricity, only multiplied a thousand times over. The hair on her arms and the back of her neck, on the edges of her already unruly hair, were all standing on end. Wide-eyed, her camera dangling from its strap, she allowed herself to be drawn beneath the dazzling array of light.
Awestruck and immobile, Kendra watched the azure lights descend and begin their whirling dance anew, this time around her. Entranced, she lifted one hand to touch the lights, but they danced away from her. Without warning, lightning cracked the sky again and Kendra cried out as the gentle tornado around her suddenly became a roaring cyclone.
The blue lights deserted her as the storm tore at her clothing. Kendra dropped to her hands and knees, bowing her head to the ground. Her fingers touched smooth stalks of vegetation, spiraling out from the center core of the forming circle. Almost unconsciously she traced them, clung to them as the tumult cried out in terrible cacophony above her.
I'm going to die, she thought. Suddenly she knew that everything Mac had said was true. She had rushed, headlong to this moment in time, and now that it was here—she did not want it.
Struggling to her feet, Kendra stood, unconsciously lifting her arms as if to plead with the forces sending tingling rushes of light into her innermost being.
I don't want to die! She tried to shout the words, but couldn't.
As if in answer to her silent plea, the blue lights descended once again, encompassing her within their whirling vortex. Kendra threw back her head and cried out as the sensation of icy water being pumped through her veins flooded over her. Closing her eyes she felt an incredible torrent of crystal-clear understanding course through her mind and body, and in that instant, Kendra knew all, felt all, was all.
She tried to take a deep breath and couldn't. The pounding of her heart ceased. Kendra opened her eyes and knew she was dying as suddenly the wind rushed down again, sucking her into its maelstrom. The power wove itself around her and she felt consciousness going along with her ability to see and hear. Kendra managed one last breath, one last glance upward before the darkness came upon her, twisting her down into the circle as the twinkling blue lights slowly disappeared, one by one.
Chapter Three
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Navarre de Galliard pulled back on the reins, knees pressed firmly against the heaving sides of his horse, his gaze wary behind the slits of the flat topped helm he wore. His chain mail, combined with the leather hauberk covering it, was bulky and heavy. He was grateful for the warmth on this cold February day, but wished fervently he had not worn the armor. While it would protect him against whatever danger might lie in wait for him, he did not expect an army to be assembled on the Abury plain, and he cursed himself for riding into trouble laden down with unnecessary weight, and a vision-obscuring helmet.
With an oath, Navarre removed the metal helm, running one hand through the long hair plastered hotly against his face. His tunic, golden with the emblem of a black lion in the center of it, was sleeveless and split down both sides, covering his mail and hauberk. His eyes, the same color as the tunic he wore, gazed around again, this time unimpeded by the clumsy battle gear.
He'd come dressed for war but the English countryside seemed quiet and peaceful as he observed it from his vantag
e point. Under the full moon's light the frost glistened on the field, lending the stubble of grain that once grew there a fanciful appearance. Mostly rolling farmland, Wiltshire stretched in frozen waves to the horizon in either direction. Here and there a grove of oak or ash trees dotted the fields. In the summer, it was a rolling checkerboard of wheat and barley waving in the gentle breeze. Right now, however, it lay cold and silent.
Navarre drew in a deep breath and forced himself to expel it slowly. He had ridden hard from Nottingham. The diversion to keep Locksley busy and away from Abury had taken several days longer than he'd planned, but at last he had diverted the outlaw and arrived at the ancient site on time, exactly one fortnight from the day he'd overheard Magda make her dire prophecy.
Now he waited at the edge of a woods near the largest of the mystical mounds. If anything were going to happen, if anyone—or anything—were going to come, he would see before being seen. Perhaps he had been foolish, coming alone, but taking a large contingent of men would have aroused curiosity, and Richard's spies were everywhere. Besides, with the sheriff away he could not leave Nottingham unprotected. Locksley would most surely seek to retaliate for the deeds that had kept him busy in Sherwood instead of here at Abury.
The moonlight created eerie shadows across the fields, and Navarre resisted the sudden urge to cross himself. He no longer believed in God or magic, but sometimes he had to remind himself of those fairly new revelations.
He'd had time on the road to think about Magda's words, and the more he thought, the more he believed his first inclinations were true, that he had overheard a coded message from one spy to another. By using the pretense of the woman relating a "prophecy," they could speak freely. Locksley could not be blamed for listening to a woman's mad ravings, could he? It was a very clever way to warn the outlaw that a plot against Richard's life had been discovered, and that an ally would meet him at Abury in a fortnight Accordingly, Navarre had come well armed. When Locksley finally arrived, he'd find Richard's "salvation" had suffered an ill fate.
Tess Mallory - Circles in Time Page 3
