Then she pointed the beam of her flashlight back the way she’d come, and started retracing her steps as she made her way toward the hidden room in the palace, and ultimately, to the soft bed that waited for her.
A creaking noise behind her stopped her moments later, and she wondered if the tunnel wasn’t about to cave in again, this time possibly worse. About to make a run for it, she heard the creaking noise again.
But it wasn’t so much a creaking noise as it was a creaky voice, dry and raspy and worn.
She had to listen carefully to understand what it said.
Help.
With a start, she realized it was Thad’s voice.
She pointed her flashlight back down the main branch of the tunnel, and ran toward her husband’s cries for help.
* * *
Thad felt foolish crying out, pinned as he was in darkness, with only partial use of one arm. He felt almost foolish enough to laugh at himself, but then he realized the laughter rising inside him didn’t come from embarrassment at all.
Light filtered in through the cracks in his heart, easing the burden he’d been carrying. It made no sense that he should laugh, not with everything so bleak and the tunnel in utter darkness, but the relief he felt inside his heart was palpable. Somehow, in crying out for help, he’d admitted that he couldn’t do it all himself.
That he needed God’s help.
That he believed God could help him.
Somehow, in crying out for help, he’d eased the burden that had weighed him down since he’d run off to save Lydia all by himself.
Perhaps he didn’t have to save Lydia all by himself.
Perhaps he didn’t have to be alone anymore.
And perhaps it didn’t matter, because the realization had come too late. He was alone, buried by his own stubborn stupidity in a tomb carved from darkness.
“Help!” He raised the cry again, and this time he heard something more than his own solitary voice echoing back.
“I’m coming. Stay right there.”
The laughter spilled out of him, running with his tears in dusty trails down his face until he realized he was sobbing like a child. He saw a light bobbing toward him through his streaming tears, and he called out, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Monica picked her way up the mound of rocks toward him, pointing her flashlight beam upward so that it reflected back indirect light, illuminating the pile. She nestled it into place between a couple of larger stones, then set to work scooping rocks out of the way, letting them slide down the pile behind her.
“Careful—don’t dislodge any more of the tunnel wall,” he cautioned.
“I don’t think there’s room for anything more to go anywhere, even if it wanted to be dislodged,” she panted, hauling some of the larger stones down the slope of the pile.
She didn’t ask him how he’d gotten in his predicament, or chide him for being foolish enough to venture through the tunnel alone. He watched her work in silence, marveling that she’d come to him from out of nowhere, even though he’d insisted on making the journey alone.
When she got the rocks clear from his left arm so he could use it to help, he started pushing rocks out of the way with her.
Together, they sent a large block skidding down the pile.
While Monica caught her breath, Thad settled into the reality of the hope her presence provided.
“Thank you,” he told her.
“It’s no problem.” She was already at work pushing another boulder. “I’ll need a hand with this one, too.”
As he applied as much push as he could leverage against the stubborn rock, he clarified, “Thank you for not listening when I said you couldn’t come with me. Thank you for following me.” The rock came loose from its stubborn hold and slid down the slope, pushing several smaller stones ahead of it.
Thad tried to help Monica as much as he could, but there was little he could do in his position, and his whole body felt bruised and achy cold, so instead he watched her work steadily to free him, and felt gratitude swelling in his injured heart.
As her face moved close to his, he imagined reaching for her, pulling her into his embrace, kissing her as he had kissed her so long ago.
Instead he did what he could to shove the rocks away, feeble though his efforts seemed. But with Monica’s help, the hill of rocks slid gradually lower.
And then he could move his torso and twist, and soon the slender beams from his buried flashlight pierced their way up through the swirling dust, widening like the rivers that had once split the peninsula into islands, until the light filled the tunnel as the sea had covered the sand.
Once she had his other arm free, he was able to move rocks with both hands, forcing the blood to flow again through his numb limbs, feeling sensation return in stinging spears down his wrists, through his hands, to the tips of his fingers. Finally he was able to reach the water bottle tucked into the pocket of his right leg. The plastic had been dented but wasn’t broken, and the cool water washed the thick dust from his throat.
He handed Monica the bottle and she drank quickly before getting right back to work.
Finally he could lift his knees, and stomped his way upward until the stones had shifted and slipped into the places where his feet had been, and he stood on top of them, feeling light-headed as the blood once again flowed freely to his toes.
“Let’s get moving.” He pointed his flashlight beam toward Dorsi, and prayed that by walking, he’d recover full feeling in his feet and legs.
“Are you sure you want to go on?” Monica looked hesitant.
“I’ve got to recover the scepter.”
“But what if there’s another cave-in? What if it’s water next time?”
She’d no doubt spotted the trickling wetness at other points along the tunnel, and guessed they ran beneath the sea.
“I brought this one upon myself,” he admitted. “But with you here to keep me from poking my hands where they shouldn’t be, we should be fine.”
She smiled at him. Even with her eyes rimmed with dust, she was beautiful.
“Shall we go, then?” Thad was eager to get moving before he acted on the urge to kiss her. Ever since he’d relented to calling out for help, ever since hope had sprung inside him at the realization that Monica was there and he wasn’t going to die, everything inside him had gone all mushy. Part of him wanted to pray and sing and kiss her and dance around like a fool.
And if he didn’t get moving, he just might give in to those impulses.
Fortunately, Monica headed forward with him, and they trotted along beside each other, moving as quickly as they dared without dislodging any more stones. To his relief, it seemed the farther they went, the more solid the tunnel became. The worst damage appeared to be near the start where the shoreline had broken away from the islands.
Finally, they reached a set of stone steps that twisted upward at a steep climb, and Thad was forced to stoop down low in places as the ceiling curved around above them. The spiral narrowed until it came to rest at a stone ledge, and a wall blocked the way completely.
“Now what?” Monica pointed her flashlight at each corner, which settled flush against the surrounding stones as though the way ended completely.
Thad caught his breath and tried to remember. He’d only come this way once, and it had been starting from the other side.
“This stone panel slides to the left from the other side. So from this side, it should go right.” H
e tucked his fingers along the chiseled edge of the stone, and pulled.
“Isn’t that heavy?” Monica looked impressed at how easily he slid the stone to the side.
“It’s a false stone, chiseled thin like a veneer.” He scooted out through the narrow gap, just wide enough to allow his broad shoulders to pass.
Monica started to follow him.
“Wait.” He squinted in the bright moonlight. “Let me make absolutely certain we’re alone. Secrecy is imperative at this point.”
“I understand.” Monica ducked her head back.
* * *
Thad circled around the castle ruins, grateful for the bright moonlight that illuminated the island. There were no boats in the inlet, no sign that anyone had been there since his friend Kirk had taken Stasi to Dorsi, using the island as a refuge after the ambush.
It was a good place to hide. He’d spent a few weeks there, himself, hiding from his father and Octavian, trying to decide how to get away before he’d settled on being an engineer on the oil rigs. How many times had he sat on these very rocks, feeling the same warm ocean breeze kiss his cheeks, wishing Monica could be there with him? He’d been so tempted to bring her to stay with him, but what would that have accomplished? Shortly thereafter, he’d gone to Alaska, and she couldn’t have come with him there. He’d done the best he could, given the circumstances.
As he looked across the crumbling stones, Thad thought of the stories he could tell Monica, the hidden corners of the ancient castle, the vistas he’d like to share. There was so much about the island he wanted to show her and tell her. But now was not the time. He needed to hurry.
Thad pulled out his phone to check the time. It was nearly four in the morning. They’d taken forever traveling through the tunnel, and unburying him from the rocks. He stared at the glowing numbers and wished he could turn them back, but they moved relentlessly forward, bringing him ever closer to the showdown with Octavian.
The virtual clock hand made its circuit across the face of his phone, while a little symbol in the corner detected the nearest satellite, assuring him that, as promised, he had coverage if he wanted to place a call. Thad looked up at the starry sky, and saw a satellite above, its light larger, its body closer than the stars, winking at him, almost as though it recognized his phone’s signal and sent its greetings from the sky.
Shoving the phone back in his pocket, Thad got to work. He had to find the scepter and return to the palace, and hatch a plan to save his son.
“Can I come out?” Monica whispered from the tunnel entrance.
Thad hesitated. It would be lovely for her to stand next to him on the Island of Dorsi, to drink in the sights and smells of the moonlit paradise. But then, just as he’d been tempted to investigate the cracks in the tunnel walls, he’d be tempted to show her around the island. More than that, he’d give in to the ever-growing temptation to pull her into his arms and make up for the six years they’d lost.
But surely she wouldn’t welcome his touch, not as long as their son was still in Octavian’s clutches. She hated him for causing Peter’s kidnapping.
He’d only be wasting his time trying to woo her.
They didn’t have time to waste.
“No. I’ll be right there. One minute.”
Of course, it ended up taking more than a minute. By the time he found the corner and the stone he’d marked with a cross, and then counted over and up according to the numbers in his wedding anniversary date, and located the stone he’d wedged back into place six years before, it had to have been twenty minutes, maybe more. He looked over to see Monica dozing in the tiny doorway, and he was glad she’d taken the opportunity to rest.
He still had his work cut out for him.
There was the trouble of digging the stone from the mortar, and finding the tools he’d hidden elsewhere in the queen’s tower, working the stone free and pulling it back to reveal the compartment in the wall, and the slender stick hiding there, as still and innocent as the coordinating crown he’d passed in the throne room earlier.
He grabbed it up, holding it out in the moonlight just long enough to feel the rush of triumph pulsing through his veins, unfamiliar hope surging through him in a heady burst.
And then the silence throbbed with a relentless pulse, and Thad felt dread and panic fill him instead. He looked around frantically as the air around him began to thrum, agitating the balmy air, whipping it to violent thrashing.
A helicopter buzzed toward the island, shattering the darkness with its bright search lights, flashing across the stone walls like searching hands until they locked on him and he looked up, caught in their brilliant glare.
He’d been spotted.
TEN
Monica woke with a start. She gasped as the sound that had tugged her from sleep grew louder and lights swirled overhead before locking their beams on Thaddeus. She saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched the scepter and watched him glance from a dislodged hole in the wall to her hiding place among the rocks, and back up to the sky.
She could feel the battle that waged inside him, knowing that if Octavian took away the scepter, they’d lose everything.
And just as quickly, she felt Thad ticking off his options. He couldn’t hide the scepter in the hole inside the wall, because they’d see him do it and know where he’d put it. He couldn’t pass it off to Monica, because he’d give away the tunnel under the palace, thereby exposing her and everyone at the other end to Octavian’s endless reach. The tunnel was a trap, and Thad turned his back to her, resolutely signaling that he understood that he had to keep her hiding place a secret at all costs.
He couldn’t toss it into the sea, because they’d only watch where it landed and dive in after it. It was too big to hide in his pockets. In fact, he didn’t dare let it go.
She watched as he did the only thing he possibly could do. He held the scepter tight in his hands and stood his ground, ready to take on whoever came at him.
Fear stole her breath as she watched the helicopter hover above the island, men pouring down the ladder toward Thaddeus. With gratitude, she realized they must be under orders not to shoot him or at least not to kill him on purpose. After all, they still needed his signature or would prefer it. But if it came down to losing the scepter or killing Thad, she could guess which Octavian would pick.
No doubt the men had been made aware of his preference, too.
Prayers poured from her lips as Thad kicked high in the air, knocking the first man from the ladder before his feet ever hit the ground. The man landed with a sickening crunch and didn’t get up.
The next dark figure leaped from above, lunging at Thad as he fell through the air toward him.
Thad stepped to the side and let him fall, turning to face him as he landed. Thad swung a punch before the man was steady on his feet, and had the advantage for all of his three-punch fight. The man went down and Thad looked up.
There were three more men on the ladder, and the bottom one hesitated, as though trying to decide how best to descend, or whether he wanted to descend at all. Monica prayed more fervently, grateful that the men could only descend one at a time, that the helicopter couldn’t land among the jagged stones of the castle ruins.
The third man came at Thad kicking, but once again Thad managed to stay back from the thrashing boots until his assailant had twisted himself around and nearly landed. Then a high back kick caught the attacker in the shoulder, hammering him into a nearby stone wall.
But the man wasn’t out, and the next figure was already leaping toward Thad.
Monica pinched her dry eyes shut against the dust-swirled air stirred up by the thrashing rotor blades. When she opened her eyes a second later, Thad staggered with a man clinging to his back, gloved hands tight around his neck, and he ran backward against a wall, ramming his attacker against the stones just as the last man dropped from the ladder.
Thad braced himself against the wall, crushing the man behind him as he kicked out with both feet, catching his latest assailant full in the chest, sending him reeling backward. Then Thad lunged backward again, and the man who’d been clinging to his back sagged to the ground.
Just in time, Thad rushed at the last man, throwing a punch toward his jaw. The figure recoiled, and Thad finished him with another punch.
But already two of the men on the ground staggered to their feet, and Monica watched in horror as Thad struggled to catch his breath, to stand up straight, while the men rushed at him.
Thad leaped to the side as they pounced, then threw a quick kick behind him, sending the first man into the second. They swayed only slightly before rushing him as a team.
Surely intent on keeping the scepter as far from them as possible, Thad turned his back toward them and unleashed a pattern of kicks that kept them at bay. But at the same time, the men he’d already pushed aside rushed at him again. Even as Thad pushed the other two back, his persistent attackers piled upon him.
Monica looked around frantically, trying to spot a weapon, or anything she could use against Thad’s attackers. There were loose rocks everywhere, and she scooted out of the hole, staying to the shadows, shuffling off to the right, where a parapet had once promised the castle guards cover while defending the royal family.
They would provide her the same cover tonight. Quickly she plucked up two baseball-sized rocks and hurled them with unleashed fury at the men who groped for the scepter.
The Missing Monarch Page 15
