by L. M. Abbott
Seamus snatched it from her. “Let me try.” He loosened the cap with a grating sound on the second twist. “Whoa, there’s a piece of paper inside.” His fingers stained brown, he wiped his hand on his jeans, took out the paper yellowed with age and gave it to Cailean.
“This proves the riddle from the headstone is meant for me,” she said and recited the one from Lyall Convel’s headstone. “‘The horn had grown. The blue then yellow will put pen to tesello. Wipe away tears of Weeping Widows. Follow the secret it hides.’ The secret has to be written on this.”
“What are you waiting for?” Seamus said. “What does it say?”
“Okay. Here goes.”
“‘FOLLOW THE WOLF
THE TRUE BLUE LINE
THE PEN IS AMONGST THE FORGOTTEN
IN THE DEN OF DESPAIR
RELEASE THE GUARDIANS OF THE KEY
THOUGH THE ARC OF NO ENTRY’”
Seamus threw up his hands. “What’s with all the riddles?”
Joss threw a Bullseye into his mouth. “All this is more exciting than a Poirot mystery. Notes on headstones, a tree with a hidden message. Cailean, I’m beginning to believe you did see the pony’s mane transform into wings.”
“Don’t forget the wolf we saw,” Seamus chimed in.
Cailean rolled up the note and returned it to the tube. “There isn’t much time to prove the land is mine.”
The librarian hobbled into the cemetery with the help of two walking canes. Her short, woolly hair stuck up like spiked nails. The children greeted her on their way out. “Father Tim’s ears are getting a break,” Seamus said. “He must be dancing around the altar in thanks.”
They went by Mellie’s to replenish Josh’s low supply of candy. She jammed a batch of Bullseyes into a white paper bag. “I put in a few extra.” The door shook from the wind and a draft swirled around the store. Mellie rubbed her bare arms. “The weather’s having a hard time deciding what to do today. Sunshine and calm one minute, rain and lightning the next, flipping back and forth like the toss of a coin.”
“Mellie,” Cailean said. “Several leaves on one of the oaks in the cemetery are already changing colour.”
“A relation of your mother planted those. They’re very special trees.” All three children crowded close to the counter. “Autumn’s touch has always graced them weeks before any of the others in Loon Cove.”
The doorbell jangled and Mellie attended to another customer. Josh shuffled outside behind his friends. “Decoding the riddle before Loon Cove becomes a tourist resort will be an enormous challenge,” he said, carefully inserting the bag of candy in his back pocket. The bulge resembled a camel’s hump.
“It’s almost lunchtime,” Cailean said. “Come to my house in an hour.”
She arrived home and at the back door, hesitated going inside. Her grandfather would keep his word and not inform her father about the gas tank incident. What if Aunt Luperca had tattled on her? “Can’t stand out here all day,” she said and went inside. “Hi, Dad.”
He lifted out a chicken and cheese casserole from the oven. “Gramps made this for us.” Brown crusty cheese bubbled on the top. “Looks delicious as usual.”
Safe for now, Cailean’s appetite returned. To her surprise, her father chewed a few bites, then laid his fork down. “I’ve been considering Mr. Murphy’s proposition, and to tell the truth,” he said, looking across the table at her. “Developing the land will be best for everyone. Too many children play on the Railway Rocks. A deadly accident is bound to happen.”
The lump in Cailean’s throat prevented her from speaking. What purpose would it serve? Her father had made up his mind. She forced down the rest of her lunch, and escaping to her room, sat in the wicker chair, her arms around Fergus, waiting for Seamus and Josh. The doll’s coarse, red hair pinched her skin. She turned to the picture of her mother on the night stand. “I miss you, Mom.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the chair’s cushioned back. A gentle wind blew in through the open window, billowing out the curtains.
Cailean shifted her position in the wicker chair, vaguely aware that the sliver of the moon had replaced the yellow of the sun. Seamus and Josh were late, but too tired to give it more than a passing thought she slipped into a deeper sleep.
Her father gently shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Cailean.”
Her lids opened to a dark room. “What time is it?” she asked stretching her arms wide.
“Eight.”
“Seamus and Josh were supposed to come over.”
“They showed up, insisting to see you, but you were fast asleep so I send them on their way.” Her father switched on the lamp and laid a tray on the desk. “You slept through supper. Seeing as you’ve developed a fondness for meat I made you a pork sandwich. Enjoy.” He left the door open on the way out.
Cailean looked out the window munching on the toasted sandwich. A dash of mustard mixed in with a heap full of mayonnaise. Just like her mother used to have. Stars winked in the night sky. Her father used to wink at her, his way to reassure her that everything was okay. He hadn’t done much of that since her mother’s.... She couldn’t say the word. Her gaze wandered to the trees. She gasped, dropped the sandwich on the tray and leaned forward for a better look. A two-toned brown wolf looked up at her from the edge of the woods.
The message from the Weeping Widows leaped into her head. ‘Follow the wolf.’ Cailean ran out of the bedroom and down the hall. She slowed at the top of the stairs listening for her father’s whereabouts. The familiar voice of the announcer from the eight fifteen news reached her ears. She sneaked past the living room where her father reclined in the rocker, his back to her. He sneezed and pulled out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. Cailean waited until he blew his nose before scurrying to the kitchen and out the back door.
The wolf disappeared into the trees when she rounded the side of the house. Cailean followed it, keeping pace as she avoided holes, stumps, and rocks. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Tired, she stopped to rest when the wolf turned to her, its eyes bright, vivid in the darkness. It`s breath floated in the air like puffs of smoke. It licked its lips as if preparing for a tasty meal. A wave of fear weakened Cailean’s legs. She’d acted on impulse with the belief the message in the riddle would protect her. Wolf and child stared at each other across the short distance, the canine’s eyes shimmering like burnished gold. An owl hooted. A fox cub scooted out of the trees, a bandage on one paw and raced towards the wolf. As it neared, the wolf turned and fled. Cailean followed, running faster and faster. Too late, she saw the cliff edge. Her scream echoed in her ears as she fell. Down, down, the huge black boulders and grey water rushing up to meet her.
Chapter 11
Josh ploughed through the woods. The trees shut out the moonlight, shrouding the forest in darkness. The beam from his flashlight danced at his feet one second, bounced off tops of branches the next. He didn’t slow down or take time to avoid the sharp pine needles pricking his soft flesh. “We have to hurry.” His voice was barely discernible through his heavy breaths.
Seamus followed, carrying a thick rope slung over his shoulder. “Where are you taking me? I’ve never seen you run this fast in all my life.”
“I told you. To find Cailean. I drew her falling over Wadly Cliff. The image appeared inside my head.” Josh picked up speed. “Like now.”
Seamus hurried after him. “What do you see?”
“No time to talk. Got to get to Cailean.” The flashlight glowed like a beacon in a long tunnel. Josh tripped and fell onto his knees. He tried to stand up but couldn’t. “Something’s gnawing at my leg and won’t let go.” Panic made his voice shrill.
Seamus took the flash light and shone it along the ground. “You’re caught in a mess of branches. Hold still.”
Josh pushed him away. “Don’t waste time on me. Save Cailean.”
“Stop moving. You’re getting more tangled up.” Seamus pulled at the branches, and with one last pull freed Josh.
They reached the clearing to the cliffs. “There’s no sign of Cailean or the wolf,” Seamus said. “Are you sure she’s here?”
Josh swallowed. “We have to check the bottom of the cliff.”
“Josh! Seamus! Help me!”
Seamus flattened his body to the ground and looked over the side of the cliff. Cailean lay across a dead, snarled tree protruding from the side about halfway down. Her arms were wound around the decaying trunk, her legs dangled high above the water. The cold Atlantic wind tossed her hair around her head. Waves crashed against the cliff, leaving white foam on the ragged rocks when the water receded to the ocean. “Don’t move. We’ll get you up.”
Cold sweet blurred Cailean’s vision. “The wind is too strong, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”
Seamus hauled the rope from his shoulder and tied a loop at one end. He looked around for a tree to use as leverage. The nearest one was just out of reach. He threw the looped end down to Cailean. “Me and Josh will pull you up.”
She stretched up as far as she could. “The rope’s too high. I’m afraid the stump will give way if I move too much.”
Seamus lowered the rope a little farther. Rocks and loose earth went with it, crumbling down the cliff. Cailean held an arm over her head. Dust sifted up her nose. She jerked to the side to dodge a large flat rock. The dead tree lurched forward as half the roots broke free of the cliff. Cailean fell forward screaming, clinging to the trunk to keep from going over the end.
Seamus let out more rope, trying to keep it steady in the wind. “That’s all I can spare. Any more and there won’t be enough for me and Josh to get a good hold.”
Cailean grabbed the rope with bruised fingers, put the looped end over her head and secured it under her arms. “Ready,” she called up. The damp air tasted of salt and stung her eyes. Black clouds gathered, blown in from the dark ocean. The last star blinked out.
Josh and Seamus planted their feet firmly on the ground. “Cailean,” Seamus yelled, “we’re going to start hauling you up.”
Josh, standing behind Seamus, clenched his teeth as they pulled. Inch by inch they stepped back, the rope taut from Cailean’s weight. It started to slip through their fingers, burning their hands. “No, No,” Josh cried, tightening his grip on the rope.
“We can do this,” Seamus said, his arms strained.
Josh’s feet came out from under him. Seamus was dragged ahead, his heels embedded in the dry earth as he tried to resist.
Sweat trickled like rain down Josh’s face. “It’s not working. What are we going to do?”
“Cailean,” Seamus called, “you’re too heavy. I have to ease you back to the stump and go get help. Josh will stay with you.”
“It won’t hold my weight for much longer.” Another tree root cracked with the sound like a whip lash. Cailean hugged the trunk as it dipped lower. Jagged pieces of wood cut into her legs.
The thud of hooves sounded loud, clear. The grey pony came out of the trees and pawed at the rope. “Good boy,” Josh said. “You knew we needed help.”
Seamus secured the rope around the pony’s neck. “Okay, Grey One, let’s get Cailean to safety.” He patted the animal’s rump. “It’s up to you.” The pony neighed and backed up, moisture glistening on its skin.
Unable to move any further, the pony reared up on its hind legs. Seamus patted the Grey’s rump once more. “Take it easy, boy.”
Josh leaned a little farther over the cliff. The wind howled in his ears. “The rope’s snagged on a piece of tree stump. Come forward a little bit.”
Seamus guided the pony ahead until the rope slackened.
“It’s free,” Josh said.
Cailean bumped against jagged rocks and remnants of trees branches, the ragged edges sharp. She refused to cry out when the wind slammed her into the cliff.
The rope tore into the pony’s neck. Seamus looked at the blood oozing out. “You’re doing a great job, Grey One.”
Cailean’s head came into view, and Josh pulled her up by the arms. “How did you know I was here?” she asked, opening and closing stiff, sore fingers.
“The same way I knew about the funny looking creature and the strange town.”
Seamus eased the rope from around the pony’s neck and gave it a lump of sugar. “A small reward for saving Cailean’s life,” he said and joined his friends. “It’s late. We’d better get going before anyone notices we’re missing.”
“Look at your hands,” Cailean said. Red welts had formed on the palms of both boys.
“The pony’s neck is in pretty bad condition,” Seamus said. “It might need medical aid.” The animal tossed his head and galloped into the trees.
Cailean got to her feet and staggered into Seamus. “How are we going to explain the scrapes and bruises? Dad wont let me out of the house for weeks.”
Seamus picked up the rope and flashlight. “Josh will think of something.”
A dense fog swooped up the cliff side and crept towards the children. By the time they entered the woods the mist swelled around them. The flashlight dulled. Seamus shook it. “Don’t go out now.” The light died.
Josh carefully placed one foot in front of the other. “It’s like walking in the clouds. I can’t see a thing.”
“I can,” Cailean said, welcoming the familiar green mist. She hurried forward with Josh holding on to the back of her jacket. Seamus held a hand on Josh’s shoulder.
Josh lifted his foot over a bump. “You followed the wolf because of the riddle and it almost got you killed. There’s only one explanation for that.”
“Which is?” Cailean asked when he became quiet.
“We’ve misunderstood a part of the verse.” Josh riddled it off. “‘Follow the wolf. The true blue line. Find the pen amongst the Forgotten. In the Den of Despair. Free the guardian of the key through the arc of no return.’ The part about the wolf has to be wrong.” He shrugged. “Maybe the riddle has nothing to do with your deed.”
“You’re wrong. The riddle will lead us to the deed.”
Cailean went to bed early, exhausted and aching all over. Even her eyelids hurt. Her father had commented on her condition right off and she blamed Barlo. They’d had a tug of war with a branch and the dog of course had been victorious. Not a malicious lie, yet a lie none the less. She wished more than anything else that she could confide in both her father and grandfather.
The nights were quiet in Loon Cove with the peaceful chirps of birds, the soft hoots of owls and even the cry of a coyote to keep you company, not like the traffic noise blaring day and night in Brook City. Propped up against pillows, Cailean read about the Newfoundland pony when she heard an unusual sound from outside. A growl. Barlo was downstairs in the kitchen. She ran to the window. Two wolves, one as white as Barlo, the other dark, two toned, their heads low, snarled at each other. The dark wolf attacked, sinking yellow fangs into the white wolf’s thigh. Blood gushed from the deep wound. Its legs crumpled and the animal fell onto its side. The dark wolf pounced again, digging teeth into the downed wolf’s shoulder.
The dark wolf suddenly crouched low on all fours and sneaked into the forest. Cailean heard a sound from below and saw her father come out onto the porch holding a rifle aimed at the white wolf. It turned its head towards him, panting, red patches spreading along its white fur. His finger on the trigger, her father lowered the rifle. The wolf limped into the woods.
Cailean got back into bed and pulled the covers over her head. Wolves were extinct on the island and she’d seen three in the span of two days. She couldn’t have imagined them. Her father had seen one.
“Breakfast is ready.” Her father’s voice penetrated the deep haze of sleep.
She frowned when she saw it was ten o’clock. “Dad, why did you let me sleep so late?”
“I tried to wake you earlier, couldn’t get even a groan from you. What in heaven’s name made you so tired?”
“I read half the night.” Another lie. She flushed and fidgeted w
ith her napkin.
“Hope you’re hungry.” Her father served homemade blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and vanilla ice cream. He smiled. “Josh’s mouth would water at this feast.”
Cailean gobbled down breakfast and washed the dishes in record time.
Her father opened the sports section of the morning paper. “Anxious to go somewhere?”
“I want to see what’s going on at Murphy’s Field.” At least that much was true. Cailean dried her hands in the dish cloth.
“Be careful. I saw a stray dog in the yard last nigh. For a moment, I thought.” Her father laughed to himself and drank the last of his tea.
“Thought what, Dad.”
“Thought it was a wolf. Which is impossible.” He put his empty cup in the sink. “Wear your raincoat. There’s a hint of rain in the air.”
Cailean telephoned Josh and Seamus when her father went to his workshop and arranged to meet them outside her house in ten minutes.
Barlo tagged along when she hurried to the spot where she’d seen the wolves. A circle of red stained the ground. “Fella, now I know for sure the fight was real.” The dog sniffed the soil and barked, prepared for a hunt. “Shhh. Dad will hear you. He can’t see this.” Cailean threw twigs and leaves on the blood. “We’ll wait for Seamus and Josh on the porch so he won’t get suspicious.” She pulled Barlo to her. “Dad would look for the wolf. You know he’d never let it suffer.”
Barlo barked and refused to follow her.
“Please be quiet, Fella.” Cailean looked towards the living room window. “Dad can’t find out about the wolf.” She glanced into the woods. Her father would keep her inside if he knew of her plan to search for a wounded wolf.
Barlo quieted down once they were on the porch. Cailean picked a leaf from his head. “Josh is close. I can hear him wheezing.”
Seamus reached the foot of the hill and looked over his shoulder at Josh who straggled a long way behind. “A rubber duck can move faster than you,” he yelled. “You’re getting in shape if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
“I’m game if you read a whole book,” Josh yelled back.
