The professor looked aghast. “You mean to tell me it’s being exposed to the elements?”
“No,” said Ian, hurrying to reassure him. “The rocks are protecting it and we added some grass and twigs to give it extra protection.”
“Then we shouldn’t wait for a good rainstorm to corrode it,” said the professor, standing up and reaching for the thick sweater draped around his chair. “And I shall want to see this skeleton as well.”
“Now?” Thatcher asked, glancing at his watch as the professor shrugged into his sweater and waddled stiffly toward the door.
“Yes, now!” said the professor. “Come, come, there’s no time to waste!”
Ian hung back, his eyes darting to the scroll’s translation, still on the professor’s desk. “Sir!” he called to the older man before he could disappear down the hallway.
“Yes?” the professor said over his shoulder.
“Might I bring the translation along with us to study on the train?”
The professor waved his hand impatiently. “Yes, yes,” he said, “just hurry along with it!”
Ian leaned over the professor’s desk and grabbed the piece of paper before dashing out of the room to catch up with Carl and Thatcher, who was handing the boys their coats. “Quickly now,” he said as his eye went to the door and the professor, who was already halfway down the steps.
“What about Theo and Madam Dimbleby?” asked Carl in alarm as they hurried out the door. Ian realized abruptly what they hadn’t considered—that rushing back to the keep would mean leaving the pair behind.
His worry was short-lived, however, when they all heard a “Yoo-hoo!” echoing down the street. The four turned and saw the headmistress and Theo hurrying toward them. They paused in front of the group, and before anyone else could get in a word, the professor announced, “We’re on our way back to Dover. The boys have discovered some remains within a new tunnel they explored last weekend and I’ll want to take a look before it gets dark.”
Madam Dimbleby’s mouth fell open and her gaze turned to Ian. He gulped and began to offer some kind of an explanation but she cut him off with “Well, professor, let us not dally here. It’s off to the train station, then!”
“Uh-oh,” murmured Carl as she turned away. “I believe we’re going to be in a load of trouble when we get back to the keep.”
“Gee, mate, you think?” Ian said crossly as Theo joined them.
“What’s the professor talking about?” asked Theo.
“I’ll explain on the train,” said Ian glumly. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.” And he set off after the adults, his thoughts dark and his mood grim. It seemed to Ian that only a short while before, his life had been rather uncomplicated. Now it felt quite out of control, especially with dark beasts, cryptic prophecies, and evil people about. On the walk back to the station, Ian couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for himself, but then he realized as they boarded the train that he had only himself to blame. After all, he’d been the one to disobey rules and start this awful mess in the first place.
CAPHIERA’S CURSE
I an was first on the train and he moved down away from the door in search of an empty berth. Finding one near the front, he sat down moodily As he stared out the window, he soon became aware of someone hovering close by He turned to see Carl standing in the aisle, looking shyly at the seat next to Ian. “Can I sit there?” he asked meekly.
Ian sighed tiredly and attempted a smile. “Sure, mate, have a seat.”
Theo, who must have followed Carl, took a seat across from the boys and looked expectantly at Ian. “Out with it,” she ordered as the train doors closed and the locomotive began to roll out of the station. “And don’t leave anything out.” For the rest of the train ride back to Dover, Ian and Carl explained all that had happened in the newly discovered tunnel, and repeated what the professor had told them about the clay pots at Grimspound, Laodamia, the legend of Demogorgon, and the Oracle’s prophecies. “Show me this prophecy from the box,” Theo demanded, and Ian pulled it out of his coat pocket.
After studying it for a long, quiet moment, Theo mused, “Now I understand.”
“What?” asked Carl. “If you mean you understand the prophecy, Theo, that’s fantastic, because our lot didn’t have a clue!”
“Not all of it,” Theo admitted. “Just a few parts.”
“Which ones?” asked Ian, leaning forward to peer upside down at the paper in her hands.
“Well, this part about a Star. When we were finishing up with Lady Arbuthnot, I kept hearing the words ‘The Star of Licorice’ running round my head.”
“The Star of Licorice?” said Carl with a laugh. “You must be joking!”
“No,” said Theo stiffly. “I’m actually not.”
Ian scratched his head thoughtfully. He couldn’t imagine a precious gemstone being given the name of a candy, but he had too much respect for Theo’s abilities to dismiss it. “I expect we’ll find out soon enough what it’s all about.”
Theo glared at Carl, her feelings clearly bruised by his scoffing remark. “Sorry,” he said when he realized he’d offended her. “It’s just a bit odd, you know?”
“And all of this other business of beasts, oracles, Druid sorcerers, prophecies, and hidden tunnels isn’t?” she snapped.
Carl cleared his throat. “Good point,” he said.
Ian saw that Theo was working herself into a good huff, and attempted to change the subject by asking, “What else made sense to you, Theo?”
She scowled one last time at Carl and said, “That bit about the Seeker … Yesterday I was helping Agatha look for her shoe—you know how that girl loses everything?” Ian nodded. “Well, while I was looking under her bed, I had a bit of déjà vu, you know where you think you’ve done what you’re doing before?” Again, Ian nodded and Theo continued. “But I knew I wasn’t remembering looking for Agatha’s shoe. It was the oddest feeling, like I was remembering something that hadn’t even happened yet, and it involved crawling around in the dark and there was this sensation that I was looking for something with a boy. …” Theo’s voice trailed off as if she was thinking back on it, unable to put the event into words.
“What boy?” asked Ian.
“I don’t know his name,” she said, her face serious. “But I do know he had brown skin and there was a mark on his hand.”
“What kind of a mark?” asked Carl, and Ian was relieved to see that he’d lost his mocking expression.
Theo closed her eyes. “It was very odd,” she said softly, “like a birthmark on his right hand, but it was clearly shaped like a diamond.”
“A diamond?” Ian repeated, thinking about what the professor had said about the crown jewels.
“Yes, a diamond,” Theo said firmly. “That’s all I remember, and it was really only the flash of an image in my mind’s eye.”
“Does anyone at the keep have brown skin and a mark on his hand?” Carl asked Ian.
Ian shook his head. “No one I know of,” he said. “Jasper’s skin is a little darker than ours. Do you suppose it’s him, Theo?”
Theo frowned. “No, I don’t believe it’s anyone I’ve met yet,” she said. “But I do believe we might all discover him soon.”
“How do you know that?” asked Carl.
“Because when I said it out loud just now, it felt right,” Theo answered simply.
Carl scrunched up his face and looked at Ian. He obviously didn’t know what to make of that. Ian shrugged and just then the conductor came down their row and said, “Dover Station in ten minutes!”
Ian folded the prophecy and tucked it back into his coat pocket, where it nestled against the cool steel of his pocket torch, knife, and compass, which went everywhere with him these days.
He then turned toward the window to gaze out at the passing terrain, and saw something so surprising that it made him gasp.
“What?” asked Theo.
Ian pointed to the window. “Snow!” he exclaimed.
&
nbsp; “Blimey! Would you look at that?” cried Carl. “I’ve never seen snow this early before!”
Other passengers had started to notice the fluttering little flakes in the air and the train became abuzz with chatter.
“What do you make of it?” he heard Madam Dimbleby ask from somewhere behind them.
“Most unusual,” replied Thatcher.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” added the professor. “Snow in September? Unheard of!”
“I’ll need to get back to the keep quickly,” Madam Dimbleby said, fretting. “Gertie will have her hands full when the children get wind that it’s snowing outside.”
* * *
The train rolled to a stop at Dover Station and everyone hurried off, anxious to feel the soft white flakes settle onto their faces. By the time Thatcher had ushered their group into the motorcar the earl had loaned him, there was a light coating of fine powder covering the ground.
“It’s so pretty,” said Theo as she gazed out the window.
“Yes, well, it’s rather slippery to drive in,” remarked Thatcher, and Ian noticed his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
The group arrived back at the keep in short order and Thatcher dropped Madam Dimbleby off at the door. “Theo?” she asked over her shoulder. “Are you coming in?”
Theo gave her a pleading look. “Can I please go with Ian and Carl?” she asked.
“I’ll look after her,” said Thatcher. “And I’ll stop by the cottage and fetch Perry as well. We’ve still got our hunting rifles and we’ll keep watch over the children when we go looking for this tunnel.”
“Oh, very well,” said Madam Dimbleby, distracted by the commotion going on in the yard to the side of the keep. Ian could see all the orphans playing in the snow and Madam Scargill clapping her hands, working to get at least some of the children inside to put on their coats. Madam Dimbleby did pause just long enough, however, to turn back to the car and focus on Ian. “You and I shall have a chat after you get back, Ian.”
Ian gulped. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.
“Can we please be off now?” asked the professor moodily. “We’re wasting good daylight, after all.”
Madam Dimbleby gave him a level look but stepped back from the car and waved them a weary goodbye. The group now had only to pick up Perry and be on their way.
“So, Ian, I hear you’ve discovered yet another tunnel,” said Perry as he climbed into the car and sat beside his brother.
“Yes, sir.” Ian pointed toward Castle Dover. “Carl and I found it round the far west side of the castle.”
“And Thatcher also says that you’ve discovered some old bones as well?”
“Not just some bones, sir, we’ve found an entire skeleton!” said Carl dramatically. “And it was sticking right out of the wall!”
Perry shifted to get a better look at Carl squished next to the professor in the backseat. “You found a skeleton bricked up in one of the tunnels?”
Carl shook his head. “No, not bricked up,” he said. “It was like he was part of the wall itself!”
Perry gave him a doubtful look. “Part of the wall?” he said with a smirk.
“Yeah, only his head and his right arm and half of one leg were sticking out. Like the wall ate him but couldn’t quite swallow him down.”
Perry and Thatcher exchanged amused looks. “I sincerely hope this isn’t some wild-goose chase,” said Perry.
Carl pouted in his corner of the car. “That’s what it looked like, I swear!” he insisted.
“We’ll see,” said Perry. Ian couldn’t wait for his schoolmaster to take a good look for himself and eat his words.
They arrived at the main road to Castle Dover and parked the car near the woods. “The helmet’s up on that hill,” said Ian. “Come this way, Professor, and I’ll show you where we’ve hidden it.”
Everyone followed Ian up the hill, with its dusting of snow, and watched as he and Carl gently pulled out the twigs and grass they’d used to cover the relic. Ian then moved aside one of the smaller rocks, and with two hands he pulled the helmet free. The professor stepped up to him and held out his hands, which Ian noticed were shaking slightly. He handed the helmet to the professor, who turned it over and looked inside. “Remarkable,” he muttered.
Thatcher looked over the professor’s shoulder and asked, “Is it authentic?”
The professor pumped his wobbly head excitedly. “Yes, I’d say so.”
Ian smiled. He hoped the helmet might also be valuable and worth a few pounds to split between him and Carl. “Do you see this mark?” asked the professor, pointing to a small squiggle on the inside of the helmet. “That is the mark of the bronzesmith who made the helmet. The Phoenicians were remarkable craftsmen, and all the great smiths stamped each of their creations personally. This is the stamp of Icarius, who was one of the very best bronze workers of his time. He crafted for generals and men of power, but very few people alive today know about him, and certainly far fewer would be familiar with his stamp, as only a handful of his creations have survived.”
Ian’s heart beat with eagerness and he smiled broadly at Carl, who beamed back. Ian wasn’t sorry any longer that Carl had opened his big mouth and divulged their secret. Any bit of punishment was worth it if the helmet brought in a pretty penny.
Perry turned to the pair and said, “Show us where this came from, boys.”
Carl scowled distastefully. “It’s from the tunnel in the woods, over there,” he said, pointing.
“Come on,” said Ian, nudging his friend with his shoulder. “We’ll take you there.”
Ian led the way into the woods and found the odd stone structure and its hidden stairway with little trouble. “The staircase is just below these stones,” he said, standing next to the opening.
The professor wobbled forward and Ian could see his face fill with awe. “Remarkable,” he breathed as he brushed some of the ivy aside and inspected the massive stones carefully.
“Where did this come from?” asked Perry as he too moved to look at the stones more closely.
“It’s Druid-made,” said the professor and Ian’s eyes widened. He’d been right after all to think about their similarities back in the professor’s flat.
“Druid?” said Thatcher. “I didn’t know they were this far west.”
“Oh, they dominated this entire landscape for centuries,” said the professor. “You’d be surprised where some of their structures turn up, but this is very curious indeed. These stones are granite, which excludes them from the limestone quarries surrounding Dover. I can’t imagine where they came from or how they got here of all places, but it looks as if they were placed here to protect these stairs.”
It seemed to Ian that everyone turned at once to peer down the staircase, then back up at him expectantly. He smiled uncomfortably and said, “The soldier’s remains are in there. It’s best if you have a torch if you go down. I have my pocket torch, but we’d be better off with more light.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Thatcher, and he hurried off through the woods in the direction of the motorcar and returned with two large torches. He passed one to his brother and turned toward the professor and held out his arm. “Professor,” he said, “why don’t you stick close to me on these stairs?”
The professor took Thatcher’s arm and they went down the staircase. Perry looked at the children. “Would the three of you like to stay here?”
“I would!” said Carl.
“I’ll go down,” said Ian.
“Me too,” said Theo.
“Aww,” complained Carl, “you’re going to leave me alone, then?” he asked her.
Theo sighed impatiently. “What’s wrong with staying here alone?”
“It’s creepy,” he said, eying the woods nervously. “Come on, Theo, stay with me, please?”
Theo rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she groused. “Ian, you go on ahead and show them where you found the helmet. I’ll stay here with Carl.”
Ian nodded and pulled his pocket torch out of his trousers. Clicking it on, he followed the schoolmasters and the professor down the steps into the darkness of the tunnel. The group progressed slowly to make sure the professor didn’t slip as he shuffled along. After a bit, Ian pointed ahead. “The skeleton’s just up there,” he said.
Thatcher’s torch zipped from the ground to where Ian was pointing, and all the adults gasped at what the beam revealed: a gray piece of skull and bones sticking out of the rock. “What is that?” asked Perry, hurrying forward around his brother and the professor.
“My word!” exclaimed Thatcher, stopping near the bones. “Look at him!”
Perry was shining his beam directly onto the skeleton. “It’s as if the wall formed around him!” he said excitedly. “How is that even possible?”
The professor placed his hands on the bones, gently feeling them. “It’s a fake,” he said, and his mouth turned down in distaste. “I knew it was a fake the moment I saw it.” Ian looked at the ghastly figure projecting out of the wall. He wasn’t sure how the professor could dismiss it so quickly.
“Are you sure, Professor?” asked Thatcher. “If it is a fake, how could someone have done such an impeccable job imbedding these bones into the rock? There are no cut marks or chiseled indentations to speak of.”
“It is remarkable,” whispered Perry, running his hands around the rock where it met with the bones. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“It’s a forgery, gentlemen,” insisted the professor. “There’s no possible way for rock to form around a set of human bones like this. It’s got to be a fake.”
“What’s that?” asked Ian, pointing to the ground where he saw something else just out of his torch’s beam.
Thatcher’s torch quickly shot from the wall to the floor, and there, lying half buried in soot, was a long piece of metal. Thatcher bent down and carefully swept aside the dust, revealing a silver short sword with a bronze handle. “Oh, my,” he murmured.
“Impossible,” said the professor as he too bent low to inspect the artifact. “That is a fourteenth-century BC Phoenician short sword!” And he grabbed the handle and hauled it up from the dirt.