The Curse of Deadman's Forest

by Victoria Laurie

  She looked at him anxiously. “They will,” she insisted. “Laodamia said as much, after all.”

  Ian inhaled deeply and attempted to calm his nerves. He’d practiced in his head several times how he would ask the mist to reveal the identity of his parents after he’d inquired about the treasure box. He hoped he asked correctly and he wondered what the mist would tell him.

  The group waited yet another thirty minutes, with nothing but the calm quiet of the morning to reach their ears. More of their surroundings became illuminated as the sun rose a bit farther on the horizon. The gray cast to the landscape was now laced with patches of pinks and purples as the rays of the sun began to reflect off the dense fog. And still, no bells or ringing or anything out of the ordinary came to Ian’s anxious ears.

  He heard the professor sigh and caught the look that passed between the old man and the earl. “Perhaps we’re in the wrong place?” the earl asked.

  The schoolmasters nodded, as if they’d been thinking the very same thing. “There are three other locations we might try,” said Perry. “Perhaps tomorrow will yield us a better result?”

  “Smashing,” said Carl, already turning to head up the hill. “I’ve a craving for some tea and toast. I think I’m chilled to the bone.”

  Ian watched reluctantly as everyone but Theo began to walk away from their vigil. “Come along,” he said, bitterly disappointed. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  “I’m sorry,” Theo said. “I really thought I’d chosen the right spot.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ian assured her. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  He and Theo turned away and took a few steps, and that was when Ian heard one loud beautiful chord sing out across the fields. He and Theo both stopped dead in their tracks and stared wide-eyed at each other. “The bells!” they said in unison.

  Carl looked over his shoulder. “What’d you say?” he asked as the earl also paused to look back.

  “Didn’t you hear that?” Theo asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “That bell!” Ian nearly shouted before turning his eyes to the earl. “My lord, surely you heard it?” But the earl shook his head and looked back at him curiously.

  “I heard nothing, Ian.”

  Thatcher, Perry, and the professor had also stopped on their way up the hill and were looking curiously back at them. “What did you hear, lad?” asked the professor.

  “We both heard it!” Theo exclaimed, taking Ian’s hand and turning back toward the thinning fog. “Ian, look!” she added, pointing to a small patch of mist that seemed to curl out of the terrain, snaking its way toward them.

  “What?” asked the earl, hurrying down the hill to them. “Theo, what do you see?”

  “You don’t see that?” Ian gasped. “My lord, there’s a thick patch of mist making its way to us!”

  The professor, Carl, and the schoolmasters joined them and peered at the spot Ian was pointing to. “I don’t see anything,” Carl complained.

  Ian looked at Theo. She nodded. “I see it too!” she told him.

  The professor shrugged. “Well, then, by all means, lad, follow the mist. It is obviously beckoning you.”

  Ian felt a rush of excitement, but he was nervous too. He stepped forward several paces and waited for the curling fog to circle about him from the waist down, as if lassoing him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Theo was beaming with happiness. “Go,” she told him. “Find your answers.”

  But Ian wondered suddenly if he was the only one the mist was beckoning. In a last-minute decision, he said, “Theo, come with me!”

  Theo looked doubtful. “You don’t need me,” she told him. “You can find the way on your own.”

  But Ian thought differently. “I believe you’re supposed to come, Theo,” he said. “You heard the bell too. You can see the mist. And the crone did say that both of us would need to find our answers in the mist. Perhaps she wasn’t suggesting that we’d do so at separate times, but now. Together.”

  Theo bit her lip while she considered him.

  But Ian was afraid that if she didn’t join him quickly, they’d both lose their chance. “Come on before it leaves again!” he implored her.

  “I believe Ian might be right,” said the professor kindly. “Why not go along at least and share the experience?”

  Reluctantly, Theo stepped forward to join Ian, and the mist curled around both their middles, as if it wanted to tug them forward. Ian took hold of Theo’s hand and together they walked into its center. “Remember not to stay past the third bell!” the professor called.

  “I’ll remember!” he promised eagerly, walking forward.

  The pair made their way easily, following the fog still curled about them for at least a half kilometer. While they walked, Ian became aware that a white fluffy fog seemed to waft up out of the ground, forming an archway high above their heads—almost like a wide tunnel. Light permeated its misty walls so that Ian could still see Theo quite clearly, but much of the surrounding landscape was completely obscured.

  When he chanced a quick glance behind him, he saw only white, and for the first time, he felt a tickle of fear when he realized he could no longer make out the rest of their party.

  Theo, however, appeared captivated by her surroundings. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and a smile never left her face. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen a mist so pure and white.”

  Not long afterward, the smoky rope tethered about their middles faded away and Ian and Theo found themselves quite suddenly in the center of a huge four-walled room complete with thick white misty walls and a high ceiling. For several seconds, nothing happened, but then the eerie silence was broken by the sound of the second bell.

  Ian waited breathlessly for something else to happen, but for several heartbeats nothing at all did.

  “What happens now?” Theo whispered, squeezing his hand.

  Ian shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, a bit anxious about what he was supposed to do next.

  “Welcome!” said a disembodied female voice that seemed to come at them from every direction. “We have awaited your arrival, Guardian, and glad are we that you have brought the One with you. Now ask us what you should desire and we will reveal all.”

  Ian felt a wave of nervous energy wash over him. Once the mist revealed where to locate the treasure box, he was free to learn everything about his parents! He looked at Theo, glad she was there to share it with him. She beamed him a brilliant smile, adding a nod of encouragement, and suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her in less than a week. He looked back at the white swirling walls and realized they might hold a truth even more important than the one he’d come here to seek. In the next moment he knew what he must do, and he decided to ask this most important question even before inquiring about the treasure box.

  Still, he couldn’t help regretting what he was giving up. He closed his eyes, lest he change his mind, and said, “There is a man who claims to be Theo’s father. His name is Major Fitzgerald. I would like to know about Theo’s mother, where she came from, and if the major is, in fact, her father.”

  Beside him he heard Theo gasp. “Ian, no!” Ian opened his eyes and saw her shaking her head vigorously. “Not me!” she insisted. “We needed to ask about the treasure box, and any question after that was supposed to be about you!”

  But already the mist of the four walls was in motion and the disembodied voice said, “I have heard your request, and here is the answer you desire.”

  On the wall in front of them, shapes began to appear. At first the shapes were rough outlines of two people, but the more Ian stared at them, the more they seemed to materialize and increase in detail. Very quickly he realized he was staring at a young girl of about eight and an older woman of about twenty, wearing Grecian gowns. “Jacinda!” said the older woman. “What has happened?”

  Theo gasped again. “That’s my mother as a young girl!” she whispered.

  �
�They’ve taken my father away, Adria!” the young Jacinda cried. Ian remembered immediately that Adria was the name of Laodamia’s most faithful protégé. “My sisters are being held prisoner in our home,” Jacinda continued, “but I stole away before they could discover me. I must find Mia and warn her! Her enemies will stop at nothing until they capture her and bring her before the council!”

  The young lady named Adria hugged Jacinda fiercely. “The Oracle is aware of the danger, Jacinda,” she said. “And she has hidden herself in our old meeting place.”

  “I must go to her!”

  Adria let go of Jacinda and turned to reach for something within the fog. Her hand reappeared holding a small box with familiar etchings. “Laodamia told me you would come here. She insisted I give you this,” she said. “She also advised me to send you to the cave where your brother’s friend Calais was killed. The Oracle is hiding there. But here, take some food and water with you. Her condition is quite fragile, and I’m terribly worried about her.”

  “I know where the cave is,” Jacinda said, taking the box and the supplies. “I’ll go to her now!”

  “Tell the Oracle that I’ll come to her later this evening with more supplies. And please, Jacinda, tell her to rest. She must not overdo.”

  Jacinda nodded and dashed away into the mist.

  The remaining figure of Adria dissolved and the mist swirled, re-forming itself into what looked like the opening of a cave. Jacinda was there, clutching the treasure box as she picked her way along the rocky floor. “Laodamia!” she called. “It’s me! Jacinda! I must speak with you!” Ian watched, utterly spellbound, as the girl stepped forward across a familiar threshold, searching for the Oracle—who appeared to be nowhere in sight—and stopped when her foot kicked something on the ground.

  Ian knew exactly what it was, and winced when Jacinda screamed as she realized she’d nearly stepped right onto a human skeleton. In her fear she darted forward, and then, quite suddenly, the way behind her was cut off. A wall appeared where none had been before.

  The poor girl cried out again when she realized she could not go back, and she dashed out of the cavern as fast as she could, then dissolved altogether into a swirling of white mist. A moment later a new set of shapes formed. Jacinda reappeared looking a year or two older and much worse for wear. Her Grecian clothing was gone, replaced by more contemporary garb, but the girl was wafer thin, disheveled, and cowering in the corner of an alleyway while an elderly couple attempted to coax her out of the corner. “There, there,” said the woman. “You poor thing! Out here on these streets, left to fend for yourself. Why, you can’t be older than nine or ten years old!”

  “You … no hurt!” Jacinda said with a rather pronounced accent as she shivered against the apparent cold and clutched a small satchel that Ian suspected held her very few belongings. Ian realized that since she’d stumbled through the portal from her home in ancient Greece, she’d become a poor urchin struggling to survive somewhere in England.

  “Of course I won’t hurt you, darling!” claimed the woman. “Why don’t you come along with us and we’ll make sure you get a good hot meal and some warm clothes?”

  “Yes, little girl,” said the gentleman. “We have a very large house and plenty of room. Come along with us and we’ll take proper care of you, all right?”

  Again the mist swirled and the figures dissolved. When they re-formed, Jacinda was at least eighteen, looking happy, healthy, and incredibly beautiful. Ian was quite surprised by her transformation, in fact. And the scene astonished him further when it revealed a familiar face. “Oh, Fitzy,” she sang to a much younger version of Major Fitzgerald sitting next to her. “Whatever would I do here at school without such wonderful company as yourself?”

  “I suspect you’d die of boredom, Cinda.”

  Jacinda laughed merrily and took his arm. “Now, tell me about this very handsome school chum of yours. What’s his name again?”

  The young Major Fitzgerald frowned. “Are you referring to Phillip?” he asked, and she nodded. “Oh, dear, Cinda, don’t tell me you fancy him!”

  Jacinda smiled coyly and laughed. “Of course I fancy him, Fitzy! Why do you think I insisted you invite him to the races on Saturday?”

  The young Major Fitzgerald pouted. “The man’s a lout,” he warned. “He’s not good enough for you.”

  But Jacinda seemed unperturbed. “He’s adorable,” she said wistfully. “And I believe I shall marry him one day.”

  It was difficult to discern in the fog, but Ian could swear that the major looked hurt. Before he had a chance to scrutinize it, however, their two figures dissolved again, only to re-form a moment later. This time the pair were standing in a parlor. Jacinda looked stricken and Fitzgerald held her hand, attempting to soothe her. “There was nothing anyone could have done, Cinda. We warned Phillip not to go out in those rough seas, but you know how much he loved to sail.”

  Jacinda’s knees buckled, and Major Fitzgerald caught her before she collapsed to the floor. Carefully, he moved her to the sofa and set her down gently. “There, there,” he said, patting her hand. “I’m so terribly sorry, my dear.”

  “Where will he be buried?” she asked after a bit, her voice pained.

  “His family is having him shipped back to Switzerland. He’ll be buried in the family cemetery.”

  Jacinda’s lips trembled and she began to cry. “It’s all ruined,” she moaned, clutching her stomach. “Everything is ruined!”

  Again the shapes dissolved and re-formed. This time Jacinda appeared holding a small bundle swaddled in blankets. She sat at a table across from Fitzgerald in what appeared to be a large teahouse. Her face was crestfallen, and her features pinched.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your parents,” he said softly. Jacinda stared down at the table and hugged the baby in her arms. “When news of the accident reached me, I knew you would need your Fitzy.”

  Jacinda leaned over and gently placed her baby in a pram. Fitzgerald reached across the table to take her hand then, but Jacinda pulled it away. “Don’t,” she warned.

  “Please,” he begged. “Please come back to London, Cinda. I know that your father’s sister has claimed his estate, and that you’ve no money and no prospects.”

  Jacinda swallowed hard and glanced again at the baby in the stroller.

  Fitzgerald continued. “We can be married. My family might not approve, but if I insist, they’ll never stand in my way. And I’ll even claim the babe if you like; just come back!”

  Jacinda closed her eyes, as if to shut him out. When she opened them again, they were hard and firm. “No, Fitzy,” she said. “I cannot.”

  There was a long silence as Fitzgerald sat stunned on the opposite side of the table. “But why?” he asked.

  Her features seemed to soften then and she said, “Because as much as I adore you, I don’t love you. And because this child is not yours; she’s Phillip’s. And while I must confess that I most appreciate your offer, marrying you would only put all of us in the gravest jeopardy. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Fitzy. I simply couldn’t.”

  “What kind of danger?” he asked earnestly. “Jacinda, what kind of trouble have you got yourself into?”

  Jacinda shook her head. “It is nothing I can talk about,” she said, and again her features were hard and firm.

  Fitzgerald stared at her with a mixture of hurt and confusion on his face, but he did not press. “Where will you go?” he finally asked.

  She sighed. “There is a place by the sea that I went to many years ago,” she said. “A quiet little village I remember from my childhood. I’d like to take my daughter there. Raise her and keep her safe. And someday, I shall tell her all of it. All of my story and the secrets of my past so that she might learn from my mistakes and be the stronger for it.”

  And then Jacinda did something that shocked Ian down to his socks. She reached to a familiar-looking necklace at her neck and gripped the thin crystal there, exactl
y as he’d seen Theo do a hundred times before.

  “Will you send word to me and tell me how you are?” Fitzgerald asked.

  Jacinda smiled sadly. “Yes, Fitzy,” she said. “And in the meantime, I had hoped that you could hold on to something for me, to keep it safe?”

  “Of course!”

  Jacinda reached into the baby carriage and pulled out the small silver box with little balls for feet. “This is a priceless family heirloom that I’ve had since I was a young girl. I’ve held it all this time and kept it safe, but I worry that where I’m going, it might fall into the wrong hands. Will you keep it for me until I ask you for it again?”

  Major Fitzgerald gently took the box from Theo’s mother. “It would be my greatest honor,” he promised, and his figure dissolved into nothing.

  Ian blinked when he realized that the foggy figures of Jacinda and Fitzgerald were completely gone, and it took him a moment to understand that no further shapes would form. As he was about to ask the mist after his own parents, he heard the third and final bell.

  Crestfallen, he had to swallow his disappointment quickly, because he knew they would have to leave. But when he looked beside him, he saw that Theo was openly sobbing. He felt terrible that he’d all but ignored her up to that moment, so he wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. “Shhh,” he said. “It’s all right, Theo. There, there.”

  “She loved me,” Theo cried. “My mother truly loved me!”

  “Of course she did!” he assured her.

  Theo lifted her chin and looked up at him desperately. “Then what happened to her? Why did she leave me out in the rain like that?”

  Ian opened his mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail him. “I’ve no idea,” he finally admitted. “But now we know that your mother actually knew Laodamia, and from what the mists showed us of her origins, she seemed to be in a bit of danger from her early childhood.”

  Theo sniffled loudly and wiped her tears. “Yes,” she said. “Her father had been taken away, and others were searching for her.” A thought then seemed to occur to Theo and she asked, “Do you think that whomever my mother was afraid of when she was younger could have come through the portal after her, Ian?”