by K. C. Dyer
Darrell peered through the door of the darkened library. When she saw that the place was deserted, she slipped inside and ran straight to the personal health section. Darrell read rapidly through the titles on the shelf and selected a book. There would be room for only one. Quietly, she stepped through the door of the small library, closed it behind her softly, and headed for the stairs.
“Darrell! There you are.”
Darrell’s heart sank into her boots. She turned around, slowly.
“Hi, Lily.”
Lily came bounding up, talking a mile a minute. The only words Darrell could make out were “Conrad” and “police.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, Lily. I’m in kind of a hurry. Could we talk later on?”
“NO, Darrell! I have to speak to you now.”
Darrell sighed and glanced impatiently at her watch. Time had become her adversary and it seemed to be flying on wings of lightning. She rubbed her eyes and cut Lily off again.
“Stop a minute, Lily, will you? I am dealing with something here that is like life and death — no, really it’s more important than life and death. I will listen to what you have to say, but I can only give you three minutes. I’m not kidding. THREE MINUTES! Now tell me the problem.”
Lily shook her head. “Darrell, you are always so dramatic. Life and death, my foot.” She blushed suddenly. “Oh, sorry, Darrell.”
Darrell rolled her eyes. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.” She looked at her watch. “Two minutes,” she said, threateningly.
“Okay, okay, I’ll only take one. I just wanted to know if that Conrad Kennedy has been bothering you again lately.”
“No,” said Darrell, slowly. “Why?”
“Because it seems that every time I’m out for a swim in the bay, he’s there, driving his boat up and down. He has nearly run over me a couple of times and I am ready to report him to the police.”
“Did you tell your swim coach?”
“Yeah, and she’s going to report him on Monday to the office. I just wondered if you wanted to add anything to the report.”
Darrell thought about the white plastic boxes filled with CDs and computer parts. With Brodie and Kate gone, Conrad suddenly seemed a lot less important.
She started down the stairs. “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow,” she promised Lily. If there is a tomorrow, she added, silently. “If you want information to give to the police, I’ll be able to tell you some more about it then.”
Lily stopped on the staircase and watched Darrell run down the hallway. “Okay, Darrell. I’ll talk to you about it then.” As Darrell sped down, she heard Lily’s voice echoing, exasperated, down the stairwell. “For an artist, you sure don’t sit still very often!”
Darrell checked her watch. It had been a little more than an hour since she had sat in the entrance to the cave. With the strange way that time seemed to compress in the past, who knew how long Brodie and Kate had been on their own at Ainslie Castle? Darrell groaned to herself. It could have been days. Her heart dropped into her shoes. I hope I’ll still have friends by the time I make it back, she thought grimly.
Darrell crept down the back hall toward the garden. The door cracked open in the sooty night, and she slipped quickly through. Darkness had become her ally, and she wanted no eyes to follow her this night.
The sky was heavy and dark and the air was dense with humidity. In the garden, the air felt dead, and Darrell could smell a storm coming. The waves lapped the beach lazily, as though too thick and oily to travel with any conviction.
Against the obsidian sky, Darrell slipped down the path to the beach. The going was difficult, and she was forced to move more slowly than she wanted. When she finally felt the rocky surface change to sand, she began to run. She flew down the beach, avoiding the waterline and keeping to the hard packed sand. Once, she glanced behind as she ran towards the enormous boulders that marched down to meet the water. Was there a light, high up on the cliffs behind? It was extinguished so quickly she doubted her own eyes. She stopped to listen, and then continued her quick, cautious pace toward the rocks.
As she neared the shelter of the place where the cliffs met the sea, a tangle of voices rose up from the water near the boulders that lined the far side of the beach. The voices travelled, muffled through the damp air. Darrell started, then threw caution aside and ran blindly toward the rock wall. Reaching it, she clung for a moment to the rocky cliff face, trying to catch her breath. A stitch burned in her side, and in spite of the new padding she had applied, her leg was on fire.
She could see the boat clearly now, almost up onto the beach. What she could not see was who was on board. She hoped that the moonless night would shroud her presence from whoever was steering the vessel. Panting, she slipped inside the crevice and disappeared from sight.
Darkness wrapped itself around her like water, filling her senses. It swam around her body, wrapped its silky tendrils around her face, and blinded her completely. The sound of the sea was in her ears and she could smell and taste it; she could even feel its salt on her skin. But the dark was her ocean now, and she felt close to drowning. The inky blackness swallowed everything, making sound and taste muted and distant.
Gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees on the sandy floor of the cave. She shivered in the cool air and waved her fingers helplessly in front of her face. Not until her palm brushed her nose could she tell that her hand was there, and she closed her eyes in despair. Eyes open or closed, it didn’t matter.
All that mattered right now was silence and speed. She had to find her way back to her friends. She had to do it in darkness. She had to do it in silence. Any sound she made now could betray her presence to the people outside, and all would be lost. Her friends would be gone. No one else knew where they were. No one. And the voices outside were getting closer.
She heard a cry of triumph and a hard, spiteful laugh. Conrad’s voice rang out as clearly as though he were standing beside her.
“We’ve made it, Dad! This is the last shipment tonight, and tomorrow we’ll get the cash.”
She heard a slap ring out like a shot. “Keep yer voice down, and yer face shut, ya stupid idiot,” the voice growled. “Nothing is over until the money is in our hands.” Darrell heard another ringing smack, this time followed by the sound of something falling hard to the sand. “That’ll teach ya to talk outta turn. Now get up and get to work, ya big goof.” Sounds of activity came clearly though the crevice. Darrell stood up and silently crept to the back of the cave.
Remember, remember, remember, she chanted silently to herself. Reaching one arm length at a time, she felt her way along the rock wall of the cave. The night was very cool, with the thick, coppery smell of a storm in the air. In spite of the temperature, her skin burned and her body shook with exhaustion and tension. Sweat trickled behind her ears and ran down the length of her spine.
The darkness enveloped her body, but her thoughts glowed clear. Somehow, everything that had happened this summer had been because of her. Her friends had been dragged away from all they held dear, and her mistakes had led them to the brink of disappearing forever. There was no room for any more mistakes. This time, she had to do everything right.
Along the wall, her fingers brushed something — a different texture. She touched the surface lightly and something changed. She could feel electricity flowing through her body like a river and almost expected to see sparks snap from her fingertips. Instead, a strange form took shape under her fingers. A symbol that took the shape of a mask began to glow a deep, hot red on the cave wall. Relief flooded though her. Now she knew what to do.
At that very moment, she felt pressure on her leg and something cold on her back. She gasped and, in spite of herself, let out a little sob of regret. She had been caught. Her future was lost in the past.
“What...?” she cried as she was suddenly knocked backwards. Her head struck a rock outcrop painfully as she sat down hard on the sand. Darrell put up her hands to protect
herself, but instead of another blow, something cool cut through the heat of the muggy night, brushing her forehead damply. A cold nose pressed against her face.
“Delaney!” Darrell nearly cried with relief. She reached out her hands and took his large head between them awash in the comfort of his presence.
Darrell heard shouts in the distance as she ruffled the dog’s fur.
“I don’t know how you got here, boy, but you’ve got to sit, Delaney,” Darrell whispered in the dog’s ear. “Be a good boy, just sit here and stay quiet.” Delaney obediently flopped down on the sand beside Darrell, but as soon as she took her hands off his head and turned to touch the wall, he held up a paw as it if it were sore and began to whine.
To her horror, Darrell heard the distant sound of voices, echoing off the walls of the cave. Conrad! But how could he have found the entrance in the dark?
“Delaney,” she whispered frantically, “Delaney, please be quiet!” Outside the cave, the voices, though still distant, fell suddenly silent, as though listening. Far behind her, the walls of the cave took on a flickering glow.
Her heart pounding with fear, she curled the fingers of one hand through Delaney’s fur. She tucked the book under her arm and resolutely slid her other hand along until the smoothness of the glyphs slid under her fingertips. Her fingers traced the shape of the mask, and the glyph began to glow. As the whirlwind pulled her in, she thought she heard voices calling behind her and the bark of a dog.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Darrell lay on the sand, sick and miserable. Her head was spinning and her stomach roiling, and when she should be ready to jump into the fray and rescue her friends, all she wanted to do was sleep and make it all go away. She felt for her pocket in the dark and found a peppermint to slip into her mouth.
Finally sitting up after her nausea began to ebb, she leaned against a wall and thought how much easier the recovery was with the candy in her mouth. It must have to do with blood sugar or something like that. Her eyes were drawn to the shape of the mask on the rock wall, glowing red in the centre and charred around the edges. She could no longer see the sword-shaped glyph, as it was now most certainly completely blackened. Now that she was here, all the certainty she had in her plans for saving her friends melted away.
Standing up on shaky legs, Darrell slowly felt her way to the front of the cave, then dropped to her hands and knees to creep out to look at the sky. The sun was setting. A crisp breeze floated in through the entrance and she shivered and moved back inside. Autumn was coming, she could smell it. A pinkish light crept through the entrance of the cave, not much to see by, but at this point, all the light she really needed.
She peeked up into the rock ledge that was tucked inside the entrance to the cave. It had been swept clean of all it had held before. The tide was out, but the sand on the floor of the cave still felt damp under her woollen skirt. How could two men have sheltered in that tiny space, particularly when one was the size of Sir William? At the thought of the giant Scot, Darrell’s heart gave a lurch. How had he fared in the skirmish with Hamish and his men? Had he really been struck down immediately? There was so much she didn’t know.
Whatever had happened, she would have to be very careful. She bit her lip and sat down to take stock of the precious items with which she had filled her pockets before leaving. She pulled everything out of her pockets into a pile on the sand and then picked them up one by one. For the first time since she had arrived in the cave, she smiled, looking at the changes that the journey through time had made. Her library book was a roll of parchment, tied with ribbon. She unrolled it and glanced quickly at the words it contained, now written in Latin, outlining the need for basic personal hygiene and household cleanliness to prevent disease. The wax of the plain white candle she had pulled from her bedside table was now yellow, and it felt greasy in her hands. And the Swiss army knife she had taken from Lily’s bedside table now took the form of a slim dagger, sheathed in leather. She shuddered a bit, thinking of Hamish, and hoped she would not have to use it.
Her shoe was now soled with wood, like a clog, but with a full leather upper. She pulled up the hem of her dress, smiling again slightly as she noticed Eleanor’s mending, and carefully unwrapped her leg and checked the padding she had applied in her room at school. The soft pad of cotton remained unchanged, except now it looked more like a linen material. She carefully replaced it between her leg and the wooden peg, to give the most cushioning possible and to help ease the soreness.
Well, she thought, this is as ready as I will ever be. She was pocketing all the items when she realized with a shock that Delaney had not appeared. She sat back on her heels. Delaney had whimpered as she had been yanked through the wall of time. He had been her guide on every journey. This time, had she left him to the mercy of Conrad and his father? Her throat tightened. If anything happened to the dog, she would never forgive herself.
She sat by the mouth of the cave and watched the sun set over the Scottish highlands in a blaze of glory. “I’ll just wait until it gets a little darker and then make my way around the path by candle light,” she whispered. She pulled the candle from her pocket and then realized with a groan that she had not brought matches to light it. “They probably wouldn’t have made it through the journey anyway,” she muttered. “I think they still use flint to light fires here.” She thought the matter over quickly. The lack of a light might actually work to her advantage. Travelling at night was never very safe, and she knew that most honest people usually went to bed with the sun. She would need to be very careful to avoid anyone on the road to the castle.
As dusk settled all around, Darrell stood up and started out of the cave. In spite of the twilight, she remembered the way, and if she kept to the road it would lead her directly to Ainslie Castle on the tidal island.
As she walked, the moon rose over the ocean and she was able to make her way up with comparative ease to the road that ran along the ridge. She found herself making better time than she had thought, for the road was deeply rutted, but it was dry and she managed to pick her way through the worst of the dips and dents with relative ease, teetering just a bit on her wooden leg.
Soon Darrell was in sight of the castle, standing below it on the road that led to the small tidal island. She glanced up at the moon and saw that it had travelled quite a distance across the night sky. It stood over the craggy hills of the western highlands. What she could not see was how clearly it backlit her figure as she limped slightly on the road to the castle.
She was midway on her journey up from the beach when she heard hoof-beats rising up to her ears from the direction of Ainslie. She looked around in dismay, seeing little protection or cover in which to hide. Too late she realized that the foliage around this road was kept deliberately scant to prevent ambush.
She watched helplessly as two horsemen rode swiftly up the hill. Her heart began to pound again with the sound of the hooves. She looked frantically for someplace to hide, but they were upon her less than a minute after she had first heard the sound of the hooves. A voice thundered out:
“Who walks these perilous roads unaccompanied in the dark of night?”
Darrell peered up at the dark-shrouded faces of the horsemen.
“It is only I, Dara of — of Eagle Glen, returning to the home of my host.”
The second horseman gave a strangled cry and jumped off his horse. Before he could say a word, the first horseman spoke up again.
“God be praised!”
Darrell was flooded with relief as she saw it was Luke who smiled down at her. She teetered on her feet and took a step backwards so as to not fall down with sheer relief.
“This is wonderful news, Dara. Sir William and the Lady Eleanor have been sick with yer loss. Some items of yers were found near the body of Hamish in the cave. Father and I feared the worst.”
“The body of Hamish...” repeated Darrell, dazedly.
“There is much that has happened in yer absence, Dara,” said Luke. �
��Let us return to the castle and all will be known.” He turned his horse and called to his second. “Give the lady a hand to help her up on the horse. Ye can ride behind her.”
Darrell turned and found herself looking into the twinkling eyes of Brodie.
“Your foot, wee lassie,” he said, smiling, and swung her gently up onto the back of the horse.
The wind had started to blow in earnest as they thundered down the hill. Though Brodie hung on to her steadily, Darrell still spent most of the ride with her eyes tightly closed. He seemed confident, but Darrell was fairly sure that Brodie was as much a city kid as herself. And he had probably ridden as many horses before this journey started as she had — meaning none. Darrell didn’t open her eyes until they were stopped at the castle gate. She looked up and could see the openings above the gate that the guards called down through. When Luke called up that all was well, the portcullis was drawn up and the enormous wooden doors opened to let them in.
Sir William was in the entrance to meet them and reached up to sweep Darrell off the horse. She found herself wrapped in his embrace and then he quickly stepped back and took her by the shoulders.
“Words cannot say how glad I am to see ye returned safely to us. Are ye well?”
Darrell looked back at him dumbly. She had thought she would have the whole evening to prepare a story to cover her absence, but being found so early meant that she didn’t even know how much time had passed since she had been gone, let alone come up with a story about where she had been.
Brodie spoke up. “It is as we had thought, Sire. She relayed the story to me on our return. After the battle, she swooned and was captured by thieves. They plundered the cave and stole her away. She was only able to make her escape this evening, while they slept, overcome with the mead they had drunk.”
