Chapter 10
More Visions
Sarah blinked. Her father’s worried face looked down at her, and a wave of relief washed through her. He was patting her hand.
“Are you sure she’s awake?” asked Matt, giving her face a playful tap.
“Hey,” said Sarah. “Have you been slapping me to wake me up?”
Matt chuckled. “I suggested it, but your dad wouldn’t let me.”
Sarah tried to sit up, but her head still spun like a wobbly wheel, so she sank back down. She shivered in the damp, frigid air, which sent slivers of pain shooting through her foot. “I thought I saw a First Nations person,” she muttered.
“You did,” said her dad. “He’s gone back down the tunnel because he thought he might have frightened you, although I can’t imagine why. I thought you’d be thrilled to meet an aboriginal person from this region. He’s one of the guides here at the caves. When he heard about your fall, he offered to help. I’ve been told that he knows these caves better than Guy.”
“Oh,” said Sarah. “I feel a little silly.”
“It’s not really her fault,” said Matt. “We found an arrow. Then Sarah had some weird dream.”
“Dream?”
“Something about arrows and First Nations warriors. Maybe she hit her head when she fell.”
Her father’s lips pulled taut. He inspected Sarah’s head but found no break or bump. “We’ll have to get you checked out,” he said.
“Aw, Dad. I’m okay, really.”
“Just the same, I don’t like the sound of this.”
Sarah glared at Matt.
“You do realize, sweetheart, that the First Nations don’t shoot arrows anymore. And when they did, they were just hunting or defending their land. Let’s get you out of here.”
He put a protective arm around Sarah and helped her to her feet. “I’m okay, Dad. I can walk by myself.” She tried to disengage his arm from her shoulder, but he held fast.
They hobbled out of the cavern, Guy leading the way. He seemed very quiet.
“It was our own fault,” said Matt, loud enough for Guy to hear.
“What?” asked her father.
“The fall. We weren’t looking where we were going. We were listening to Nadine panic, and we were stupid. We promise we’ll be more careful next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” he said.
“But—” said Matt.
“I don’t like this cave,” said Sarah. “I think it’s haunted.”
Her dad frowned.
As they walked, the path seemed to broaden and heighten. They stepped into an amphitheater with what looked like glittering chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Sarah stopped and gazed around her. Matt paused and spun a 360-degree circle, openmouthed.
Pearly white stalactites dripped from the ceiling in waxy cones. Stalagmites extended spindly fingers from the rocky ground. Everything glistened with a thin layer of condensation, reflecting the beams of the flashlights and bathing the cave in a soft glow. A burbling stream rushed through the centre, carving a new path in the limestone. It was a spelunker’s dream come true.
“This is amazing,” said Matt.
“I guess it’s not such a bad cave, after all,” said Sarah.
“It is incredible, isn’t it?” said her father. “On my first rush through here I really didn’t care to appreciate it. And I still think we’d better get Sarah to a hospital.”
“Hospital? Dad, that’s crazy. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“You’re limping.”
“That’s because I stepped on an arrow.”
“You stepped on what? Let me see.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and pulled off her boot. She steadied herself on her father’s arm as she lifted her foot for him to examine it. “It’s just a scratch,” she said.
“Looks more like a gash. Where is this arrow?”
“I think I dropped it when I fainted.”
“Well, it must have been pretty sharp to penetrate your boot.” Her father opened his pack and withdrew a first aid kit. He sat Sarah on a rock and wrapped her foot.
“Is everything all right?” boomed a voice from the other side of the cave. Chief Annawan stepped into the dazzling light of reflections.
Sarah started, but she was determined not to faint again.
“Much better,” said her dad. “Sarah seems to have stepped on an arrow.”
“Yes,” said the chief. “I saw it on the ground where she fell.” He turned to the side, revealing a Roots backpack cinched over his fur coat. It looked so out of place, yet the arrow he held up did not. “Must be three, maybe four hundred years old. And not a scratch on it.” He spun it around in his hand. The feathers fanned out at an angle like the wings of an aircraft. “Very unusual.”
Sarah’s father had finished wrapping her wound. He gingerly slid the boot over her foot before he stood up to examine the culprit. First he studied the wood of the shaft. Then he inspected the gleaming copper head. “I thought most Algonquin used flint arrowheads.”
“Some chiefs traded for copper with the Ojibwa,” said Annawan.
“Interesting,” he said. “But this wood looks almost new.”
“Like it was made yesterday,” said the chief.
“Is it a fake?”
Annawan shook his head. “Algonquin to the letter. Not something we make for souvenirs today. The real thing.”
Matt sighed. He sank down to the rock beside Sarah. “Hey, I could use a Coke.”
Sarah’s dad smiled. “We all could. You seem to have stumbled onto a mystery, but it can’t be solved today. We’d better head home.”
Matt readily agreed and sprang to his feet. He helped Sarah stand with a supporting arm around her shoulders. Sarah was having trouble digesting the enigma of the arrow. She couldn’t take her eyes off the chief. His ebony braided hair and fur-clad body made her quake. His soft chocolate eyes did nothing to dispel the images in her mind—the arrow in his hand even less so. She had to get out of here.
Sarah grabbed Matt’s hand and tugged him towards the wide mouth of the cave that opened up at the head of a steady incline. Thin threads of light penetrated the gloom, giving an impression of the world outside, maybe even sunlight. What she wouldn’t give to feel sunlight on her face again. This chilly cave and its weird secrets made her feel like she was coated in ice.
Guy strode alongside them, still wearing a worried frown. Her father trotted behind, his breath hot on Sarah’s neck. He’d be hovering over her all week after this. The chief didn’t join them. He must have stayed behind to continue his examination of the arrow.
They emerged higher on the cliff face than they’d entered. Blessed sun shone all around, making the snowy landscape shimmer. Forest matted the land below, wrapping its wild arms around rivers and lakes. Up here on the rock, where the world opened up, Sarah could finally breathe again. She was so relieved she almost threw herself into Nadine’s arms, but she caught herself just in time.
“Oh, dear,” said Nadine. “Are you all right? I was so worried, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back in there again.” Her eyelashes trapped crystal snowflakes, which melted down her cheeks in tiny streams. Sarah wasn’t fooled. Even more disturbing was how the false sympathy seemed directed all her way. Not a word or expression of concern for Matt. He’d fallen off a cliff and Nadine didn’t even care.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Sarah.
“I agree,” said her dad.
Matt braced Sarah nobly as they hobbled down the steep path. He held the door open for her and helped her into the car. Her father smiled as he suppressed his own paternal urges.
As Matt sat down beside her, Sarah grinned feebly. “I thought chivalry was dead.”
“I’m no knight,” said Matt. “I’m just worried.”
“You don’t believe me, do you? I mean, you think I hit my head.”
“I don’t know. It would make more sense.”
Sarah lean
ed closer. “Tell me that that thing in your dad’s laboratory makes sense.”
“All right. I’ll give you that one.”
Sarah met his gaze, then felt other eyes drilling into her. She looked up. Nadine had just gotten into the front of the car and was staring intently at her. The woman’s eyes had narrowed until the crow’s feet around them seemed ready to walk away.
“Yes?” asked Sarah.
“Just wondering what you’re whispering about,” said Nadine.
“Nothing,” she replied.
Matt’s jaw hardened.
Sarah’s dad squeezed into the driver’s side of the Saturn and started the car. As he began driving down the snowy lane, Nadine said, “Secrets can be dangerous things. They can lead to accidents.”
“That’s right,” said her father, focused on the road, unaware of the look on Nadine’s face. “We don’t want any more of those, do we?”
Sarah met Nadine’s eyes. “Is that a threat?”
Her dad coughed. “Sarah, how ridiculous . . .”
“Of course not, dear. It’s just a warning, something every good parent should give.”
“Ha!” said Matt. He coughed and cleared his throat as Nadine’s glare lanced through him.
Nadine turned around gradually, like the second hand of a clock. Matt fell into convulsions on the back seat, but Sarah failed to see the humour in it. “This is no joke, Matt,” she said.
Matt swallowed his laughter, shrugged, and looked out the window. Sarah looked out the other side. A few birds fluttered by in the woods, flashing brilliant feathers of yellow and blue. A trio of crows sat on a wire—not a good omen. A deer shot out of the forest like a fully-flung javelin and leaped right in front of their car. Her father slammed on the brakes, skidding from side to side on the narrow road, and came to a stop. Somehow, the doe managed to bound across without being hit.
What her father didn’t see—what no one seemed to notice except Sarah—was the tall young warrior who sprang after it. He drew back his arrow—a fine new arrow with fleecy feather tufts and a smooth shaft—and let it fly. The arrow arced, then angled down and penetrated the deer’s soft belly. She bleated as she fell, dying, but the warrior wasn’t finished. He turned in their direction, searching for new quarry. He found it sitting peacefully beside Sarah in the back seat. Matt studied the doe’s path into the forest. He didn’t seem to notice the carcass it had become. His eyes seemed glazed; his skin translucent. The backseat swirled in a fuzzy haze.
“Matt, watch out!” cried Sarah. She dived on top of him. The arrow zinged past her ear and flew out the opposite window. Matt squirmed underneath her, but she held him down. A car door clicked open, and then another. A strong pair of hands grabbed her coat from behind and dragged her outside.
“No, you can’t!” she screamed. “They’re going to kill him!”
Her father wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as she struggled. The world became grey, then black.
“Daddy,” she whispered. “Save Matt.” She slumped in his arms, unconscious.