The Riddle (Keepers of the Key Book 1)

by L. M. Abbott

Josh retched. “Something really does stink.” He pinched his nostrils together. “It’s too vile to describe.”

  Pella climbed up a small hill and hid behind a patch of brittle bushes. A small stream to the right flowed between rocks the size of baseballs. She signalled for the children to be quiet as they hunkered down next to her. “The capall lair is on the other side of the hill. Their young will be feeding down there.”

  Seamus flattened himself on the damp ground beside her. “So why did you stop?”

  “To make sure they don’t see us, we’ll go along these bushes. Follow me and stay as low as you can.” Pella crawled over dirt and through puddles of water without making a sound. Josh went next, then Seamus.

  A yelp made Cailean peer over the top of the bushes. A capall, the size of a dog scraped the ground with a front hoof, its bat-like wings open, the insides carved with thick, black veins criss-crossing each other from end to end. The tail was frayed like the strings of a dirty, overused mop. The animal snorted out purple mist from the small horn in the centre of its head. Cailean started to move, but she paused at another louder more pained yelp. The capall had the wolf cub with the missing ear cornered in the hollowed-out trunk of a tree.

  A hand clutched her leg as she attempted to get to her feet. Pella’s grip was strong, firm for one so petite. “There’s nothing you can do for the wolf cub. It’s not too late for the others.”

  Cailean looked across at her friends. Seamus had gone grey, Josh even greyer. “The capalls are vicious animals,” she said.

  “Neola trained them herself. We must find the arc before she returns.”

  Once past the bushes, they ran to the stream. Red and black whiskered fish swam in groups near the surface. Pella waded in and withdrew a pea-sized blue ball from an inside pocket and dropped it in the water. “This will keep the fish from stinging you.”

  Josh stared at the fish, floating on their sides. “You killed them.”

  “They’re paralysed for a short while. Get in before the effect wears off.”

  Cailean waded across, shivering in water colder than melting ice cubes. Josh’s lips were light blue by the time he reached the other side. Seamus jogged on the spot to warm up.

  “Neola will soon figure out you’re here,” Pella said. She looked around, distracted. “If she finds you, the capalls will be the least of your worries.”

  Seamus blew on his hands. “So quit gabbing and take us to the wolves.”

  As Pella took the narrow path leading away from the stream, Cailean realised the cub’s cries had stopped. Her heart felt heavier than a concrete block.

  They came to a large stone the height and width of a two-storey house. “The caves are on the other side of that,” Pella said.

  Seamus made to run around it and bounced back into Josh, both falling to the ground.

  “That’s the invisible force field,” Pella said. “We have to go over the top.”

  Cailean moved closer, staring at the centre of the rock. “Isn’t that the outline of a door?”

  Josh scrambled to his feet. “And it’s in the shape of an arc. Maybe that’s the arc of no entry,”

  “You’re right,” Cailean said. “There’s no entry through the rock, but there’s a hole where the handle should be.”

  Seamus shone his flashlight inside. “The hole tapers off to a point, the same shape as the spike.”

  Cailean took out the spike from her jeans, and about to insert it, lightning struck the ground around her, searing a groove in the earth. More lightning exploded. The wind gusted, roaring to a deafening pitch.

  “Neola’s here,” Pella yelled over the noise. Her feet flew out from underneath her and she threw her arms around Josh’s knees. The wind forced him back. Pella clung to him.

  Cailean tightened her hold on the spike, trying to stay on her feet. Seamus reached for her but was swept away. Cailean closed both hands around the spike, “I don’t see Neola. Where is she?”

  “She sent the wind and lightning,” Pella shouted. Feathers detached from her coat. “The capalls will come next.” Josh fell over with the faery hanging on.

  Cailean accomplished one forward stride, only to stumble back three. Seamus managed to get behind her and pushed her forward several paces. The wind doubled in strength. Pella remained attached to Josh like she’d been glued to his leg. The wind rolled Seamus along the ground.

  Cailean got down on her knees, dug the spike into the ground and pulled herself forward. The closer she came to the rock, the fiercer the wind blew. The door was within arm’s reach, a horn screeched into her ear and she felt a capall’s breath on her neck. Purple mist shot over her head. In one motion, she rose to her feet and plunged the spike into the hole.

  chapter 22

  The sun shone in Cailean’s eyes. Soft white clouds drifted overhead, a blue jay soared into her line of vision. A warm wind fluffed out her hair and the smell of lilacs permeated the air. She lay on her back, her right hand extended upwards. The door was no longer there. Her left wrist felt wet and she looked to the side. The one-eared wolf cub licked her face. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” Cailean said, “How did you get away from the capall?”

  Seamus eased up onto his elbows, a thin cut above his right eyebrow dripping blood. “That was some adventure.”

  Josh’s head hung in mid air and he carefully pulled himself in. “Say that again.”

  The cub climbed down the side of the Railway Rock and trotted into the trees. All three stared at the animal until it was out of sight.

  Cailean fingered the spike embedded in the rock. “That’s the one I drove into the door.”

  “This is beyond spooky,” Josh said. “The real question is how did we end up back in Loon Cove?”

  A worried look flickered across Seamus’s face. “Pella’s not here. The capalls might’ve captured her.”

  “She’s smart,” Cailean said. “I bet-” She stopped abruptly. “I hear a chain saw. We were wrong about the spike.”

  Seamus listened. “No so fast. That’s the noise the cylinders make when the saw won’t start.”

  The sound of voices followed. “What’s wrong with it?” A male shouted.

  “Don’t know,” another called out. “The darn thing just quit.” The burr of a chain sounded and died within seconds. “No use. It won’t work.”

  “Hey, a third voice yelled. “My tractor’s dead too. The engine conked out for no reason.”

  The children scaled down the boulder and ran into the forest. “I don’t hear the sound of electrical saws or tractors,” Josh said. “How about you, Cailean? You hear things before anyone else does lately.”

  “There’s voices. Lots of voices.”

  Machinery stood idle. Men looked under hoods, fiddling with engines, tinkered with caps.

  “Well?” Mr. Murphy scowled, standing by a truck, Steve by his side. “What’s the problem?”

  An average height man with a rounded belly took off his hard hat and walked over to Mr. Murphy. “I can’t find anything wrong. There’s not a gig in any of my equipment.”

  “Then it’s obviously faulty. Bring in more.”

  “This is top-notch machinery and inspected on a regular basis.”

  Mr. Murphy’s face turned red. “Don’t give me excuses. I advise you to get everything repaired pronto.”

  “Mr. Murphy,” the foreman said. “We’re done for now. I have to figure out a way to get my equipment out of here.”

  Cailean whooped out loud. “The forest is safe. We did it.”

  “Keep it down,” Josh said. “Mr. Murphy might hear you.”

  “Not with all the noise he’s making. He looks ready to explode.”

  Seamus beamed like he’d been told school was cancelled for the year. “Stevie boy is ready to cry like a girl.”

  Cailean punched him in the arm. “Boys cry more than girls. Just ask the kindergarten teacher.”

  “Oh, oh,” Josh said. “He’s coming over.”

  Cailean was sure ste
am spurted out of his ears. “Stomping over like a spoiled child you mean.”

  “You’re on private land. Get off it now.”

  “We’re so sorry for you,” Seamus said, the semblance of an apology on his face. “Good news.... I mean bad news travels fast.”

  “My dad will build the golf course.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Josh said. “Why don’t you hire enough men to cut down the trees one by one with ordinary hand saws.” Barlo flew out of the trees and slobbered over Cailean.

  “All of you are trespassing.” Steve made a swipe at Barlo, missing him by a hair. “And take that ugly excuse for a mutt with you.”

  Seamus wagged his finger at Steve. “Be careful what you say about Barlo. He might relish sitting on your again.” The dog barked and Steve ran off.

  Josh hooked his thumbs into his jeans as they headed down the incline for the gate. “We did what we set out to do. I think we make a pretty good team.” He opened his empty white candy bag. “I’m hungry enough to eat a capall.”

  Seamus scuffed his feet through a bunch of dry leaves. “Do you think Pella’s okay? Razuk would skin her alive if he found out she helped us.”

  Cailean looked up at the broken-down equipment as they went through the gate and saw Steve walking to his father. “Dad-”

  Mr. Murphy stopped him with a shake of the head, a look of disgust on his face. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

  “Hey, Cailean,” Seamus said. “Why the weird look? Everything worked out the way we wanted. The wolf cub is here, so the others probably are as well.”

  “Just thinking about Steve.”

  Her father placed a tofu meal on the table, pulled off oven mitts and threw them on the sink counter when she arrived home. She longed for meat, yet refrained from saying so. “The equipment stopped working on my land,” she said, unable to hold in her excitement any longer.

  Sam fell into his chair. “When?” He rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. “How? Are you sure?”

  “It happened a little while ago. Mr. Murphy is furious.”

  Her father buttered a homemade roll made by Gramps. His hand shook slightly. “I don’t suppose the old folklore tale is true?”

  “I don’t care,” Cailean said. “Just as long as Mr. Murphy leaves the land alone.” She chewed her food, tasty as always while the craving for meat persisted. “Dad,” she said when she’d wiped the plate clean. “Can I have a slice of the left-over ham?”

  “Your getting more like your mother everyday.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She rarely ate meat. Then about your age, she had to have it at least one serving a day. I reckon you both take after your grandmother. She loved pork chops, roast, liver, hamburger. Come to think of it, any kind of meat was her favourite.”

  After two thick slices of ham, Cailean sat on the porch swing, Barlo snoring at her feet.

  Josh strode up the hill carrying his sketch pad and another brown covered book she’d never seen before. He sat on the step, only a little out of breath. “Our adventure has gotten me in better shape.”

  “Don’t tell Seamus. He’ll force you into sports.”

  Josh opened his sketch pad. “Take a look at Steve.” Drawn in pencil, the mouth was twisted into an angry grimace, the eyes shrunken to pinpoints. “I’ve exaggerated a little bit, but he sure was mad.”

  Cailean recalled the image of Mr. Murphy ignoring Steve. “I feel sorry for him.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “Well, his mother is dead and his father isn’t all that nice.”

  Josh closed the sketch pad. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your new abilities.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You run on your toes. You’ve developed super hearing and you can see in the dark and hear better than anyone should be able to.” Josh drummed his fingers against the brown book. “Not to mention I can somehow read your mind through images. Those are the abilities of a wolf. Your eyes are even the same colour.” He showed Cailean the title of the book.

  She read it out loud. “‘The wolf- Is it a magical creature?’ Lots of people have my eye colour.”

  “True, but yours were blue in the beginning like a wolf’s.” He flipped to a page in the middle of the book. “Here’s a list of wolf names. Did you know you have a wolf name?”

  Cailean nearly fell off the swing.

  “Your name means young wolf. Your mother’s name, Larentia, means she wolf.”

  Cailean shrugged. “My grandmother probably liked wolf names.”

  “That’s not all,” Josh said. “Your great grandfather’s Lyall, the one on the headstone with the riddle, means warrior wolf. Your great Aunt Luperca’s name also means she wolf.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you are part wolf.” Josh shook his head as if bees buzzed around him. “Don’t mind me. I can’t believe I just uttered such a stupid, impossible thing.”

  Cailean rocked the swing, her feet going from heel to toe. “Discovering that faeries exit and that they imprisoned wolves is enough to spin anyone’s mind out of control.”

  Josh handed the book to Cailean. “Talk to you later. I want Seamus to feast his eyes on my sketch of Steve.”

  She went inside to her father’s workshop. He whittled away at a piece of wood. “Are you making a flute, Dad?”

  “Yes. By the way, you haven’t practised playing the one Gramps gave you.”

  “I did try and it was a disaster. Even Barlo hated it.”

  “How about I give you a few lessons?” Her father hacked off a chunk of wood. “Your mother and grandmother played like professionals.”

  “I’ll start tomorrow,” Cailean said to appease him.

  A quick rat, tat, tat on the front door and Mellie came into the workshop.

  “By that twinkle in your eye,” Sam said. “I take it you’re aware of the equipment failure.”

  “The reason for it has been discovered,” Mellie announced. “Josh’s father had a theory about the Railway Rocks and tested it out. They give off some sort of wave length which prevents any kind of mechanized machine from functioning. Natural energy fields are more common than people think.”

  Cailean flicked wood chips from her knee. “Is it permanent?”

  “That’s impossible to predict for a certainty. But Mr. Reilly’s convinced the energy field won’t be disturbed as long as the railway rocks aren’t.”

  Cailean clapped. Her father appeared less enthusiastic.

  “Time to go,” Mellie said. “I was so thrilled I left the store unattended. Didn’t want to convey wonderful news like that over the phone.” She smiled at Sam. “See you in a bit.”

  “Right,” he said and whistled his wife’s lullaby.

  “I can’t remember the words,” Cailean said.

  “I do,” her father said. “Your grandmother sang it to your mother every night. She had a lovely operatic voice.” Cailean had the impression he travelled to another, happier time. “Curled strips of wood fell to the floor. “I’ll sing it if your ears can tolerate my squeaks.”

  Cailean giggled. “I’ll try.”

  “‘The horn has grown. Seek the Deed. Wipe away tears of the Weeping Widows. Follow the secret it hides. Release the guardians of the key. Through the arc of no entry.’” Her father reached for another piece of wood from the shelf. “A strange lullaby,” he said. “Makes no sense to me, but your grandmother and mother were close to tears whenever they sang it.”

  Cailean leaned into her father. “I believe that somehow Mom knows the forest won’t be destroyed.”

  “She loved nature. Just like you.”

  Cailean yawned and had almost dozed off when her father roused her. “I’m off to the rectory for a game of cards with the priest. Your grandfather and Mellie are joining us. She’s bringing along her homemade blueberry pie.” Barlo walked to the front hall with them. “Keep an eye on our girl,” he s
aid as the dog made himself comfortable on the mat in front of the fireplace. “I won’t lose her too.”

  “You’ll never lose me, Dad.” He kissed her cheek and left. She went upstairs, took the Scottish doll from the wicker chair and lay on the bed with him. “It’s over, Fergus. The forest is safe.”

  The last rays of sun slunk down behind the horizon as Cailean looked at the map of the Railroad Rocks. “Mom, were you aware of their powers?” She smoothed down the doll’s rough hair. “Fergus, do you think she kept anything else from me?”

  “She meant to tell you everything.”

  “Aunt Luperca? Where did you come from?”

  “Our kind are heard only when we want to be.”

  The soft howl of a wolf sailed in through the window. Luperca closed her eyes. “A mother singing to her pup. Such a pleasant sound.”

  Cailean stared at her aunt, an unspoken question on her lips.

  “Yes, Dear. Josh is right about your lineage.”

  “Why didn’t Mom tell me?”

  A look of sadness passed over Luperca’s features. “We learn of our true heritage on our twelfth birthday.”

  A second howl sounded, deeper than the one before. Cailean’s mouth formed a large O shape. “All the wolves are free.”

  “They are.”

  “Does Dad know about me and Mom?”

  “He suspects both you and I are somehow connected to the forest. It took your mother from him. Perhaps that’s why he’s driven to keep you out of it.” Luperca smiled. “As for your grandfather, I’d wager that through the years he’s guessed more than he lets on.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Let everything unfold naturally. Good night, Dear, and sweet dreams.”

  Through the haze of sleepiness, Cailean pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed up over her. The moon glowed. The phone rang. Cailean ignored it, too tired to get up. She closed her eyes, her mother’s lullaby playing in her head.

  A low howl, then another and another, a wolf pack calling to each other over a long distance. Cailean opened her eyes. The calls persisted. It was dark outside, the sky decorated with stars. The bedroom door opened, then the click of paws on the floor to the bed. “Barlo, is Dad home?” She turned over. The white wolf nuzzled into her. Moonlight reflected off its eyes onto her mother’s eyes in the photo. Both yellow green with the diamond shaped blue spots. Cailean wrapped her arms around the wolf and drifted into a peaceful asleep.