Circle of Fire

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Circle of Fire Page 12

by Michelle Zink


  Even still, I keep walking, watching as the terrified girl is pulled farther and farther into the cavern. Her fear will not allow me to leave, even in my dream.

  The cave suddenly goes very dark. I no longer see the girls, for my torch illuminates only a couple of feet in front of me. Everything beyond that is blackness, until we round another corner and the space suddenly opens up before us.

  The room feels deceptively large due to the ceilings that rise far beyond our field of vision. But it is not large. In fact, it is rather small, lit with an eerie red glow that illuminates a pool of water only steps away from us. Drops fall from some unseen place above our heads, bouncing around the cave walls on their way into the basin of water. They have a long way to go, for the water’s surface does not lie at the ledge where we stand. No. The ledge drops off into a yawning stretch of stone that only meets the water, black as pitch, far below.

  I don’t even have to think about stepping away from it. My body shakes with fear, and I have to force myself to keep hold of the torch. All I really want to do is clutch the cave walls and feel my way out of the dream as quickly as possible.

  But I am riveted. I cannot leave because something is about to happen.

  And I am here to watch. It is the only thing one can do in such a dream.

  “Come closer, Lia,” my dream Alice says. “I want you to see.”

  I would like to refuse her, but the other girl’s eyes are pleading, as if my proximity can somehow save her when I already know it cannot. Will not.

  Still, I have to try, and I inch forward to offer the terrified girl a hand. To pull her away from the watery abyss that stretches below her.

  Except I do not get the chance. I am only inches from her, my arm outstretched toward her small, quaking frame, when Alice lets go of her hand. For a moment I rejoice, thinking she is being offered freedom.

  Then my dream Alice steps toward her, reaching out with both hands. The push is so gentle, so graceful, that it takes me a moment to realize the brown-haired girl has gone over the side of the cliff.

  I lurch forward, my own fear forgotten. She is still falling when I reach the edge. There is no scream, no sound at all as she falls. Only the slight flailing of her limbs and the eerie calm of her face. But not her face alone—her face turning into mine as she falls.

  Mr. O’Leary gives us a new map after pronouncing Dimitri’s hopelessly out of date. It seems Mr. O’Leary’s duties as caretaker include updating the map with each new discovery and passing it along to those who come to study the site. He has done so over a period of years as explorers and scholars have made their way to the cairns, and while he does not seem happy to aid us, he clearly feels obligated to provide us with the most current version. We are hesitant to accept his assistance, but it seems only wise to use all the tools at our disposal.

  Having debated the matter for some time, we begin with one of the largest cairns. I believe the Stone might be hidden in a less grand location in order to ward off discovery by a casual explorer, but Dimitri is of the mind that it will be in one of the most significant spots at Loughcrew, and that likely means one of the bigger caves. I finally give myself over to his theory. We will have to search them all, in any case, until we either find the Stone or eliminate the cairns as its potential hiding place.

  We approach on horseback the first large cairn, sitting a bit to the left of the first grouping. It is still unnerving to see the grass-covered mounds rise above the landscape in odd formation across the sweeping hills. It seems impossible that such a place could hide an elaborate, labyrinthine cave, but as Dimitri and I anchor the horses and step into the cool interior, we find that it does.

  The fact that we don’t know, exactly, what it is we seek both hampers and speeds our progress, for while we begin slowly, looking every which way for anything out of the ordinary, our pace quickens as we wind our way farther into the first cave. There is simply too much to take in, and the longer we walk, stepping carefully around rocks that block the path and sometimes ducking because the ceiling is so low, the more things begin to look the same.

  The rocky walls of the cave, sometimes augmented with large stones set in front of them, are covered with strange carvings. Spirals, holes dug out of the rock, zigzags—much of the interior is elaborately marked. I cannot help but wonder what it all means. At the same time, I pray the location of the Stone is not hidden in one of the illustrated riddles on the walls of the cave. I cannot even speak Latin well. We are truly doomed if I am expected to decipher these ancient carvings.

  “The path ends here.” Dimitri stops in front of me, and I almost run into him. “We should go back.”

  I sigh, whether with relief or discouragement, I cannot be certain. “All right.”

  “Don’t give up yet, Lia. This is only the first one. There are still many more to explore.”

  “Exactly.” I cannot keep the grumble from my voice as I make my way back through the cave, toward the entrance. “What if they all look exactly like this one? How will we ever make sense of it?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, his voice echoing off the walls of the cairn. “But we’ll figure something out.”

  His answer does nothing to soothe my worry, but I do not speak again until we are outside under the gray skies of spring once again. I survey the grounds in every direction, the smaller mounds to the right and left and the larger one in the distance.

  “Which one is next?”

  I can see Dimitri’s mind working, as if more thought will actually increase our odds of finding the right cavern when it’s becoming increasingly obvious the whole excursion may be a random exercise.

  “Let’s work our way toward the big one by moving to the smaller one there.” He points to the right, and I follow his gaze.

  I think I will see nothing but the verdant sameness that surrounds us in every direction, but as I scan the field, I see a flash of yellow near the smaller cave.

  “Wait! Something’s over there!” I point toward it.

  Dimitri squints, following the direction of my finger. “I don’t see anything.”

  I look closer, trying to find it again to show Dimitri. But it’s gone.

  “It’s not there anymore. Perhaps I was only imagining it.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m sure that’s not true. You’re quite practical. If you say you saw something, you must have seen it. Let’s head over and take a look, shall we?”

  It takes us only a moment to reach the next cairn. We could have left the horses at the last one and walked, but the strange landscape leaves me feeling deeply unsettled. And though there is no one but us as far as the eye can see, my habits remain. I am forever preparing for my escape and planning for my defense.

  It is almost impossible to properly explore the smaller cairn. The ceilings are low, the passageway inside nearly nonexistent. We make an attempt to inch our way in while also trying not to disturb anything, but it is not long before we give up entirely, opting to regroup over lunch.

  “Now what?” I try to keep the despair from my voice.

  We are sitting on the grass outside the smaller cairn. I try to work up the enthusiasm to enjoy the food Brigid packed for us, but my frustration over our lack of progress does nothing for my appetite.

  Dimitri sighs. “Let’s call it an early day and head back to the house. As much as I hate to admit it, we’re ill prepared. I don’t exactly trust Mr. O’Leary, but we may have to avail ourselves of his offer to be our guide.”

  The thought of spending the day with Mr. O’Leary among the darkness of the caves sends a shiver up my spine, but Dimitri may be right.

  “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow him to accompany us in the beginning. Maybe we can learn something from him and then continue our exploration alone.”

  Dimitri nods. “It’s the wisest of all our options, I think. Besides,” he stretches and yawns, “I could do with a rest before supper. I don’t sleep well in this place.”

  I turn sharply
to look at him, for in all the situations Dimitri and I have found ourselves together, I cannot recall him sleeping poorly.

  “Why not?”

  “I feel… disturbed. I don’t know if it’s because we’re near the Stone, because this place may have ancient ties to our people, or because of the strangeness of Mr. O’Leary and his daughter, but I find myself unable to rest comfortably.”

  I nod. “I feel the very same way.”

  He reaches over to take my hand. “Still having bad dreams?”

  “A bit.” It’s more than a bit, of course, but I do not want to alarm Dimitri, nor give him further cause to lose sleep.

  He lifts my hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles. “You can always come to me if you’re afraid.”

  His tenderness makes me smile. “Thank you. It is manageable for now.”

  He stands, pulling me to my feet. “Come. We’ll speak to Mr. O’Leary about accompanying us tomorrow.”

  We make our way back to the house under an increasingly familiar gray sky, and all the while I ask myself which is worse, not finding the Stone at all, or risking our lives by trusting someone like Mr. O’Leary?

  19

  “That is a lovely bracelet,” Brigid says as I reach for my wineglass. “Simple, but striking.”

  My eyes drop to the medallion, and I pull my arm a little farther into my sleeve. I have been careful thus far to keep it and the mark on my other wrist hidden.

  “Thank you.” I try to make my tone dismissive, bored. “It is simply a ribbon, actually.”

  “A ribbon?” She reaches for the potatoes, and I wonder if it is my imagination that her tone is forced. “What an interesting accessory.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve never been fond of jewelry.” I take a bite from the dish in front of me, some kind of cabbage fried with meat, and attempt to change the subject. “Mmm! This is quite good!”

  Brigid’s gaze grows hard. “Thank you. It’s an Irish dish. I’m glad you enjoy it.”

  “And how did your day at the cairns go?” Mr. O’Leary asks. His boredom sounds overdone. As if he’s trying too hard.

  “Actually,” Dimitri says, taking a sip of his wine, “we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind accompanying us tomorrow. It seems you were right; Loughcrew is a large site. We could use some help to get our bearings. It would just be for the day, if you’re willing. We can manage on our own thereafter.”

  Mr. O’Leary looks into Dimitri’s eyes. “Didn’t find what you were looking for, then?”

  Dimitri eyes flare with suspicion. “We aren’t looking for anything specific, but we’d like an overview of the site to put in our report, and it’s difficult to determine what is important and what’s not when everything looks so much the same. I imagine a man with your knowledge of the cairns would easily be able to make that determination.”

  It is a blatant attempt at flattery on Dimitri’s part. I am half-surprised when Mr. O’Leary nods, though it is entirely possible he simply wants to keep an eye on our activities.

  “It would be my pleasure to show you around the cairns tomorrow,” he says. “ ’Tis a large site and best explored with a full day. We’ll leave at sunrise.”

  The sky, soft orange and palest pink, hangs above us as we ride across the fields. Mr. O’Leary is riding an old gray gelding and leading the way, and though I wish Dimitri and I had the expertise to explore the cairns alone, we are already better prepared than we were yesterday. Mr. O’Leary packed three torches, an elaborate lunch put together by Brigid, and a duplicate of the map he gave Dimitri that includes several circled locations. We will at least see well, eat well, and have some idea where we’re going.

  We begin at the same large cairn Dimitri and I started with yesterday. Dimitri protests, but Mr. O’Leary raises his hand in a gesture of silence.

  “Did you enter the cavern through the front?” Still atop his horse, he guides us to the opposite side of the entrance.

  “Well… yes.” Dimitri’s brow furrows in puzzlement. “How else would we enter?”

  Mr. O’Leary stops his horse at the back of the mound, hopping to the ground. “That would be the most logical entrance, but there is another.” He looks at us, still atop our mounts. “Are you coming?”

  Dismounting, Dimitri and I anchor our horses next to Mr. O’Leary’s. When we look up, he is halfway to the top of the grassy mound.

  “Mr. O’Leary?” I shield my eyes from the brightening sun. “Whatever are you doing?”

  He sighs, looking down at me with great weariness. “It would do us all good to save the questions. You asked me to be your guide, so please,” he gestures to the hill as if extending a formal invitation to climb it, “follow me.”

  Dimitri steps onto the sloping dirt, rock, and grass first. Stabilizing himself, he extends a hand to me in an offer of assistance, but I am already nearly level with him. He smiles, and the admiration in his eyes brings me a rush of secret pleasure.

  I manage to keep pace with both men as we continue up the mound. It is not steep, but the rocks, mud, and uneven growth of grass make the climb treacherous, and I step carefully along the way. Mr. O’Leary gets to the top first and stands still, gazing downward as if there is something fascinating at his feet. When Dimitri and I reach him, we understand why.

  It takes me a moment to register the gaping hole in the mound. I am still staring downward when I speak. “What is it?”

  “It’s a large hole, of course.” Mr. O’Leary sounds bored, as if it’s quite common to be standing at the crest of an ancient cavern with a giant hole at the top.

  “Of course it is.” I try to keep the impatience from my voice. “But why is it here? Where did it come from?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s a shame, really. One of the gentlemen who first discovered the site took apart the top of this one. Was looking for a burial site, he said.”

  “Did he find it?” Dimitri asks.

  Mr. O’Leary shakes his head. “He didn’t. And the stones were never put back the way they were, either. If we drop into the cavern from here, you’ll notice a piece of it that is invisible when you enter from the front.”

  I gaze back down into the cave. “But what of the site? Won’t we compromise it by disturbing the displaced stones?”

  “There is no one more careful than I when it comes to the cairns. We’ll tread lightly, have a look, and exit without disturbing things. I’ll hold the torches while you drop down, and will throw them to you once you reach the bottom.”

  It is a rocky drop to the bottom of the cavern, and I am not at all confident in my ability to make the jump without injury. And then there is the matter of dropping into the cave without the torches, and with Mr. O’Leary looking on from above. My paranoia gets the better of me, my imagination twisting and turning until I become certain Mr. O’Leary plans to abandon us inside the cairn, perhaps even to push the displaced earth and rocks on top of us.

  All these thoughts swirl through my head, but I already know I will not give voice to my fear.

  “I’ll go first.” I do not look at Dimitri as I say it, and I am already lowering myself down the rocky ledge by the time he tries to stop me.

  “What are you doing? At least let me go in ahead of you. I’ll catch you as you drop.”

  “It’s all right,” I call up, my eyes still on the rocks as I make my way down. “I’m already halfway to the bottom.”

  “Be careful!” The worry in his voice is obvious, and I smile as I drop the last couple of feet to the cavern floor. I cannot help being pleased, and even more because I was afraid. My father’s voice rings in my ear, as clear as if he were standing next to me: One must never be a prisoner to fear, Lia. Remember that.

  Dimitri begins his descent and is beside me in moments, making the climb that felt perilous and slow as I made it seem simple in comparison. My nervousness over Mr. O’Leary’s intentions lifts as he drops down the torches and it becomes clear that he intends to join us in the cairn. We wait as he makes
the same climb. He is not much slower than Dimitri, and I admire his speed and agility as he jumps to the floor like a man half his age.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  He hands us each a torch and we follow him deeper into the cave. Exploring with Mr. O’Leary stands in stark contrast to yesterday’s aimless excursion. He holds the torch to the walls as we walk, illuminating the many carved pictures and symbols and providing us with various theories on their meanings. Along the way, we learn that some people believe the markings were meant to be a calendar of sorts, while others believe it has to do with the rising of the sun. No one is sure, really, and my soul goes silent and still as if out of respect for this sacred place.

  It is interesting to listen to Mr. O’Leary’s explanations as we make our way through the cave, but by the time we find the hole in the ceiling that marks the place of our arrival, we have found nothing to aid us in our quest. Of course, we would not like to find the Stone while in Mr. O’Leary’s presence, but I am still disappointed that even this detailed journey through the past has led us to no new discoveries about the prophecy and the Stone.

  The rest of the day is just as uneventful. While Mr. O’Leary takes us through another large cairn and three of the smaller ones, we discover no clues to the Stone’s whereabouts. The spiral markings are everywhere, but there is nothing to indicate the presence of a sacred Stone.

  We are silent as we make our way around the last small cairn of the day. I wonder what to do next, for we have already decided to head back to the house for the day, and I cannot imagine how we might proceed tomorrow. Wandering from cave to cave will obviously do us no good.

  Dimitri takes one last glance at the map before moving to put it inside his coat. All at once he stops, peering with concentration across the fields.

  “What is that?”

  I follow his gaze. The speck of yellow is the same as the one I saw yesterday, only this time I can see that it is a woman, her yellow cloak billowing in the breeze, near one of the larger cairns.

 

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