Dad, for the love of God, call me.
Silas, you said you would call. Is everything okay? It’s been two days. Love you.
I stuffed the phone into the back pocket of my jeans and slipped on a jacket before heading toward campus. It was early, I still had an hour before my first class, so I took a detour to Professor Danes’ office. I approached the closed door that bore his nameplate and knocked twice.
“Come in!” he called from the other side.
I turned the knob and pushed my way in. He brightened at the sight of me.
“Andelyn, what a pleasant surprise.” I opened my mouth to correct him, but he grinned and pointed at me knowingly. “Wait, it’s Andie now, right?”
I gave the faintest smile and nodded. “Yeah, I dropped Andelyn in my futile attempt to become an adult.” That elicited a laugh from the professor, and I moved closer into the room before slipping into a worn office chair across from him.
“Are you enjoying your classes with–” He rubbed at his chin. “Who is it again?”
“Matthews,” I told him with a begruntled moan.
“Ah, right. Yes.” He clucked his tongue. “Horribly boring man. How do you manage to sit through his classes?”
“Painfully,” I replied truthfully. “It helps that I already know most of what he’s teaching.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Professor Danes said with a sudden realization. “Tell me, why it is you didn’t apply to my class? Better yet, why apply at all?” He rested his chin in his hands as he leaned across the desk. “Andie, you’re set to follow in your father’s footsteps. With your upbringing, there’s not much a classroom can benefit you.”
I swallowed, a hard lump that forced its way down my dry throat. I was tired of hearing that. “Well, Howard, I didn’t want any special treatment from you, I guess.” I quirked a half smile. “You did change my diapers, after all. And maybe I don’t want to follow in Dad’s footsteps. Maybe…I want to make my own. Plus, he teaches through the Summer. I’ll finish in way less than four years.”
Danes nodded slowly, examining my face with an odd curiosity. “Understandable. Respectable, even.” He leaned back and rocked a bit in his chair. “So, if I can’t entice you to transfer to my class, then what is it you’re here for? Everything okay?”
I fidgeted with a pen I grabbed from his desk. Nervously clicking the pushpin at the top. “Have you heard from Dad?”
“He called to check in when they got to the hotel,” he replied. Then his brow creased. “Has he not called you?”
“He did.” I pursed my lips. “Well, I mean, he sent a text when they landed. But I haven’t heard from them since and it’s…unsettling.”
“Well, with the time difference, they’re awake when you’re asleep,” he reasoned and then added with a chuckle, “Plus, I’m sure the cell reception isn’t the greatest. Especially down in the tomb, if there’s any at all. Knowing Alistair, he’s down there now, immersed. Obsessed. He won’t be coming back up for a while, I’d wager.”
Was I absolutely ridiculous for freaking out? Howard was right. Dad probably darted for the tomb the very second he could, dragging Silas next to him. What kind of girl was I to obsess over a man when he’s only been gone a few days? He wasn’t just out of town; Silas was on the other side of the world on a work project with my father. My stomach crumpled like a deflated balloon and I suddenly felt absurd.
“You’re probably right,” I mumbled and stood from the chair, grabbing my bag from the floor, and hiking it over my shoulder.
“Andie–”
“No, no,” I told him as I made my way to the door. “It’s only been a couple of days. They’ll probably call this week.”
Danes sighed and looked at me with pity. “I have some documents to email your father, so perhaps I’ll make a note for him to call as soon as he gets them. I’ll let you know when I hear from him, okay?”
Lies. I knew him all my life. Like a second father at times. He was only contacting Dad to help ease my mind and I both hated and loved him for it. I gave him a mixed expression as I stopped in the doorway. “Thanks, Howard.”
I wanted to skip classes that day and just go home to wait for Dad or Silas to call. But I knew how that would go. If the phone didn’t ring, I’d obsess myself into a ball on the couch. Classes, as much as I despised them, would serve as a wonderful distraction. I sat at the back with a large coffee in hand, a notepad and pen in front of me. I mindlessly took notes. Matthews paced the front of the class, prattling on about half a dozen foreign and ancient languages. I knew of four quite well and was fluent in two. But I still took notes. Gave an honest effort.
But classes were only a great distraction until three o’clock. Six o’clock if I spent some much-needed time in the library afterwards, catching up on some reading material. Which I did. After that…I was on my own.
I bolted home, eager to climb into some sweats and crash on the couch. But as I entered the quiet house, the smell of Dad’s cigars pretty much gone, a chilly draft in the air…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t spend another evening in a pool of my own anxious sorrow. I threw my bag on the floor and switched out my coat for my fav leather jacket before heading back out toward that old Irish pub across from campus.
I could hear the live music long before I reached the front entrance, a tattered but thick wooden door. Sounds of accordions and fiddles mixed with the speedy strum of an acoustic guitar filled the air and smacked me in the face when I opened it. My eyes scanned the area. Searching for a familiar face. Finally, Jon’s eyes caught mine from across the pub and he brightened as he waved me over. I stopped at the bar and ordered a beer, then took a few steps to Jon’s side.
“Hey!” he said loudly toward my ear. “I was beginning to think you were some weird, reverse vampire.”
His two friends, guys that looked just like Jon; soft blonde hair and that baby-boy-band face, chuckled between themselves. I recognized them from campus but had no idea who they were. I took a long swig of my beer and then forced a smile.
“I was just popping in for a quick drink,” I told them. Which was, thankfully, already half done. “The music sounded good.”
Jon looked at his buddies proudly. “Well, you’re in for a real treat, then. This is just the opening band. They’re playing their last song and then these guys,” Jon motioned to his friends, “are up next.”
“Oh?” I was surprised by the sliver of interest in my tone. “What do you guys play?”
“Modern Irish Rock,” the one closest to me said with the most non-Irish accent, and then thumbed the guy next to him. “This is Derrick. And I’m Chester. We’re Sons of Galway.”
Something sparked in my memory. A song, no–an entire album that Silas had made me listen to for days on end. Sons of Galway. He was obsessed with it. Now, whenever I heard the local band on the radio, I couldn’t help but think of him.
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod. “I’ve heard you on the radio.”
The band wrapped up their song and the small crowd gave a round of applause. Derrick and Chester made their way to the stage and I was left alone with Jon. I peered at him from the corner of my eye and he smiled widely.
“Do you come here every night or something?” I asked and took another sip of beer.
Jon chuckled. “Not every night. But at least three nights a week there’s an awesome band playing and half the campus pops in. It’s a riot.” He took a swig of his Guinness and regarded me over the can. “But you’d know that if you ever showed up.”
“Yeah, well–” I shrugged and swayed back and forth to the start of a guitar. “I like to be mysterious.”
Jon laughed. “Can I get you another drink?”
I tipped the one I had and saw that only a drop remained at the bottom. I could leave now and head home. Or I could stay. The music was enjoyable, and the company wasn’t bad. With a deep inhale, I replied, “Sure.”
As Jon headed to the bar, I removed my jacket and slung it over the back of
a chair. The universal sign for ‘I’ll stay a while’. The air inside the pub was thick, warm, and stale so I was glad I only wore a white tank top. Jon came back with two beers and handed one to me. I slugged half of it back, relishing in the crisp cool relief it provided.
We sat together for over an hour, enjoying the band and the cheery atmosphere. It was the most I’d immersed myself in a social situation in years and it felt…strange. But after the third beer that magically appeared in my hands, I began to loosen up. Jon suddenly stood from the table we occupied and grabbed my hand.
“Dance with me! This is a good one!” he said, a little tipsy in his stance.
My eyes widened. “No, no, I don’t dance.”
“Come on!” he called again, giving another tug on my hand.
I don’t know what part of me made the decision, but I found myself standing and being led to the dance floor where we joined in the crowd’s attempt at a jig. I laughed as Jon looped his arm in mine and we swung about happily. When I turned around, our bodies clumsily collided and I laughed again.
“Sorry,” I said and backed away. But Jon grabbed my upper arm and hauled me back. With a little more force than I thought necessary. My laugh fizzled out with nervousness as I saw how slack his face had become, how slurred his gaze was. I tried to pull my arm free. “Jon–”
“Why don’t you ever hang out with me?” he asked in a drunken stupor. His grip tightened around my arm. “I like you, you know. I like you–” he stopped to let out a belch of beer, “I like you a lot.”
“Jon,” I said, pleading without making a scene. “I’m flattered, but I’m with someone.”
“Who? I only ever see you with your dad and Silas.”
I didn’t answer. After a few seconds, Jon’s brow rose to reveal more of his glazed eyes. “Silas? You’re with that weirdo?”
I felt my stomach tighten and my cheeks flush red with anger. This wasn’t the Jon I knew. This wasn’t the sweet and friendly coffee cart guy I spoke to every day for the last year and a half. I had to leave but his grasp on my arm never relented.
I struggled some more. A few people within earshot saw the exchange and watched us intently, seemingly making sure there was actually something happening before they broke it up. I nearly had my arm wriggled free when Jon’s other hand grabbed me from behind and pulled my body tight to his. He smelled of sweat and booze and his sticky lips came down hard on mine.
I pushed at his chest and he ripped away, pissed and in disbelief. But, like the drunken fool he was, came at me for another attempt. My fist balled tightly, and I hauled back before driving it into his face. The crowd who’d been watching all gasped and then began to cheer as Jon crumpled to the floor.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted at him where he lay on the ground, struggling to get to his feet.
I didn’t give him the chance. I grabbed my jacket and fled out the door, bound for the safety and comfort of my house. Tears of anger streaming down my face.
God, I hated people.
I stormed through the front door before slamming it behind me and then made sure it was locked. I threw my coat on the floor as I made my way through the house, steaming with frustration. I was headed to my room but, when I saw that no one had called my phone, made a detour and headed for Dad’s office instead. I checked his email and his fax machine, hoping for some sign that they were doing okay.
Nothing.
I rummaged through the mess of papers on his desk, angry. Not even sure what I was looking for. I was just so pissed at everything and everyone. I shouldn’t have stayed behind for the Summer program. I should have swallowed my pride and remained one of Dad’s assistants. I’d be there right now, with him and Silas. Not here, fending off drunken idiots. A large pile of books shifted and knocked a bottle of whiskey over. I caught it before it spilled too much, and then took a giant swig. It burned my throat but sat nice and warm in my belly full of rage.
“You always got the good stuff, Dad,” I said to no one and then laughed maniacally to myself.
I paced around the room, bottle of whiskey in hand and drank from it as I looked at the things on the walls for the thousandth time in my life. Dad documented just about every successful dig over the years in the form of framed photographs. The collection took up an entire wall. I smiled sadly as I looked at the earlier ones, the ones of just him and I. I was so young, so eager to learn everything he knew. Little Godfrey, his team would call me.
But, as the years went on, and I became older, more of a woman, the photographs from around the world began to morph and the addition of Silas showed up in the images. I never noticed how I hardly looked at the camera. I was too busy ogling the man I had a massive crush on. My cheeks warmed at the realization. But then, my heart thumped hard in my chest as I studied closer all the newer images, the ones with the three of us. I could almost see the progressive change in Silas. How he went from proud field assistant by my father’s side, to a man stealing glances at the girl growing up before him.
I took another swig of whiskey and narrowed my eyes at the picture from the dig in Brazil we did last right before my course began. The last one I joined them on. A set of pyramids had been discovered, hidden under the overgrowth of the rainforest. They were bigger than the pyramids of Giza and Silas had been exceptionally excited about the whole ordeal. Rightfully so, too. The three of us found hieroglyphs plastered on the walls and immediately recognized one of them as the mark of internal life, an ankh, instantly tying the ancient civilization to the one of Egypt, over six thousand miles and an entire ocean away.
It was also when Silas told me how he felt about me, and we kissed for the first time. It was one of the best moments of my life. Something I could never forget. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, recalling the exact moment his lips touched mine for the first time, and a fresh tear spilled down my cheek.
I opened my eyes and glanced down at the tattoo on my forearm, the thick back lines of an ankh that I’d gotten the moment we returned home to Canada. I never regretted my decision to go to university more than I did in that very moment. Missing my dad and Silas left a sting on my skin and stirred my emotions in a way I wasn’t comfortable with.
So, I ripped the picture from the wall and headed to the spare room where I curled up in the bed Silas often slept in, inhaling the lingering scent of him. Bottle of whiskey in one hand, the photograph in the other.
I did one last thing before crashing into a drunken slumber. A stupid thing. It took a few tries to get the buttons right, but I called Silas’s cell. It went straight to voicemail.
“Silas,” I spat into the phone. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t do this. I can’t sit around here waiting for you guys to call me. I’m going insane. So…call me. Text me. Whatever. If I don’t hear from one of you in the next day, I’m hopping on a plane to Egypt. I love you.”
I clumsily tossed the phone on the side table and rolled over to fall into a bottomless sleep. Or so I thought. The blurred shapes of my familiar dreamscape slowly came into view and I stood on the top of a warm sand dune, the edge of the forest far in the distance. I’d never experienced the dream from this point of view before. I’d always been in the forest, staring out at the surrounding mountains of sand. A breeze whipped around my face and carried with it the heavy scent of sunshine and spice. I inhaled, filling my lungs with the wonderful smell.
“God, I miss you already,” a voice echoed all around me.
I spun around in anticipation, my heart searching for him, and there he was. Standing there. He looked so real. The way the breeze tousled those messy brown waves atop his head, the sharp outline of his wide mouth as he smiled.
“Silas!” I called and ran to him, crashing into his open arms. My lips found his and I melted into his embrace. “I miss you, too.” Then I added with a laugh, “So much that I apparently dreamed you up.”
His chest jiggled with a quick laugh. “This is no dream, Andie.” He took me by the sho
ulders and pushed so he could look at my confused face. “I came to say goodbye.”
“What?” I choked in disbelief. But he’d already begun to change in my hands. His solid frame slowly softening, as if he were dissipating. “Silas…”
“I love you, Andie,” he told me as granules of sand began to fly from his body and float away in the breeze. “Don’t forget that.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded through tears as I attempted to hold him together.
The defined edges of his mouth turned up in a saddened smile. “Goodbye, Andie.”
The rest of the man I loved crumbled, the sand of his body sifting heavy through my fingers and carrying away with the wind. Just as the last of Silas left my fingertips, I heard the soft sound of his voice whisper in my ear.
“Wait for me…”
The piercing ring of the phone broke through my consciousness and brutally ripped me from the hellish nightmare. I knew I had to answer it, but my shock-riddled body sat frozen, gasping for air as I forced myself to get a grip.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Suddenly, the stone around my neck burned against my skin, right through my sweat soaked shirt and I hastily ripped it off before tossing it on the floor. With sweaty hands, I reached over to swipe my cell from the bedside table, fumbling to keep it from sliding to the floor. Panting, I pressed the green button and held the device to my ear.
“H-hello?” I croaked, glancing around the room to make sure everything was real. That I was even real.
“Andelyn Godfrey?” the familiar voice questioned.
“Yes…” My heart pumped painfully in my chest. The tone. The middle-of-the-night call. I somehow knew the next words that would grace my ears and my stomach clenched in preparation.
“Oh, it didn’t quite sound like you for a second,” he replied. “Um, it’s Howard. I’m so sorry to call you at this ungodly hour, sweetheart, but I have some news. Can you come down to my office tomorrow to meet with myself and the police?”
Ancient Hearts: A Time Travel Fantasy Romance (Kingdom of Sand & Stars Book 1) Page 3
