The woman’s face fell. “I thought you were going to help me—help my baby. You could take me to your village.”
“No. I can’t. They won’t accept you. They’ll drive you away.” And punish me, he thought. Punish me for bringing danger to their homes.
The woman looked up into his eyes and when Cleofan saw the desperation burning there, he almost changed his mind.
“The blade,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion, “the one you took from me—it’s very special. Sacred. It’s yours, if you want it.”
Cleofan frowned and shook his head. “It’s no use—” he started.
“But there’s another,” she said. “Wait.” She took her baby from her breast and fussed over him. The child let out a thin cry of protest but quietened when his mother wrapped him tightly in the furs and laid him on the ground. The woman stood up and reached into her pouch.
Cleofan stepped back. “I don’t want it.”
But she held something up to show him. “See? It’s a striker. Very strong. Better than any axe head you’ve ever used.” She stepped up to the nearest tree and raised the weapon to her shoulder then she brought it down hard against the trunk. The weapon thudded into the tree, denting the wood and sending pieces of bark tumbling to the ground.
The noise of it startled Cleofan and he glanced nervously over his shoulder.
“It doesn’t cut,” the woman said. “That’s what the blade is for. But the striker can break a bone, crush a skull. It can bring a man to his knees.” She held the weapon out to him. “With this, you’ll be the strongest man in your village.”
Cleofan stared. Like the strange blade she’d pressed against his throat, this weapon gleamed, catching the light. It was far brighter than polished jade. He took a step forward and reached out his hand to touch it.
But she snatched it away from him. “If you let us stay here. If you bring us food. Then you can have it.”
Cleofan shook his head. “People come from the village to fetch stone. They’ll find you.”
The woman took a step forward. “I can hide. I’ll find somewhere. And I’ll keep Banain quiet.”
“Banain? I don’t understand. Is that what you call your son?”
The woman nodded rapidly. “It’s what they called him. It’s because of his hair, his fair skin. They can see he’s not Wandrian. He…he looks like his father.”
“I’m sorry,” Cleofan said. “But it’s no use. My people won’t allow you to stay here. I know it.”
The woman’s face creased, but she looked Cleofan in the eye. “It doesn’t matter. We just need to rest here a while. And if your people come, I’ll feed Banain so he won’t cry out. No one will know we’re here.”
Cleofan chewed the inside of his cheek and looked the woman up and down, but he said nothing.
“Please,” she said. “Take the blade. You can have it now. Then, when you come back, I’ll give you the striker. When I’ve had some food and water, I’ll go. You’ll never see us again. I swear it.”
Cleofan sighed. “There’s no need to bring water. There’s a spring. I can tell you where it is.”
“You’re going to help us?”
Cleofan nodded wearily. “I’ll try. But you must go from here very soon. I can’t keep coming out here to bring you food—people would notice. My wife…”
The woman gave him a tired smile. “I understand. We’ll go as soon as we can.” She licked her lips. “You said there’s water? I’m very thirsty. Could you show me now?”
“Yes, I’ll take you there. It isn’t far.”
The woman looked down and replaced her weapon in its pouch. When she looked up, her eyes were brighter, and Cleofan wondered for a moment, what she’d look like if the black lines were washed away from her face. “What’s your name?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Glowan. But they didn’t—” She looked away for a moment. “I haven’t been called by that name since they took me.”
Cleofan took a breath, exhaled noisily. “Come on, Glowan. I’ll show you the spring. And I know a place where you can hide. But we’d better hurry. I have firewood to gather.”
Glowan sniffed. “Thank you. You’re very kind.” She stepped to Cleofan’s side and bent her knees to pick up the heavy blade from the ground. She looked at it for a moment, with a deep sadness in her eyes, then she held it out toward Cleofan. “Take it,” she said. “It’s yours now.”
Slowly, Cleofan reached out and took the weapon from her. He turned it around in his hands, marvelling at the weight of it. The blade was cold and strong, and there was something about it, something unnatural that sent a thrill racing across his skin. “All right,” he said. “And you can call me Cleofan.” He glanced down at the woman’s pouch. To have one such weapon was exciting enough, but to have two! That would be special, he thought. Very special indeed.
Chapter 16
2021
“CALLY,” I SAID, “I need to go in with you. Not up to your room or anything, just inside the hotel. All right?”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ve already told you, that isn’t—”
But I didn’t let her finish. I stepped forward and put my hand on her arm. “You’ve got to believe me. That car, the one with the tinted windows at the end of the street, that’s their car—the men who tried to grab me at the station. It’s the same car.”
She followed my gaze. “How can you be sure? It just looks like an ordinary car to me.”
“I recognise it, all right? It’s the same car. I’m one hundred percent certain. I only got away last time because there were people about. But now, the streets are practically empty and I don’t know my way around. They’ll catch me in no time. I won’t stand a chance.”
Cally bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know. It sounds crazy to me but…if you’re really that worried, maybe you should come inside and call for a taxi. I’m sure the receptionist will call one for you if you want.”
“OK. Good plan. Let’s go.”
Cally led the way into the hotel, and I followed, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
Inside, I stood back while Cally talked to the hotel’s receptionist. The man behind the desk stared at her, grinning like a maniac, his eyes bulging. For god’s sake, I thought, I know she’s attractive but that’s ridiculous. But there was more to it than that. There was something about his manner that made me uneasy. His smile was just a little too wide, his movements a little too twitchy as he picked up the phone. And there was a sheen of sweat on his brow.
When he’d made the call, he said something to Cally and she turned to me with a smile. “The taxi will be here in a few minutes. You’ll be all right won’t you?”
I nodded, but I didn’t answer. I was too busy watching the receptionist from the corner of my eye. He was still staring at Cally, and then he did something that sent a shiver down my spine. Slowly, he picked up the phone again, hunching his body over the handset as if he was trying to hide it. He looked down to tap in a number, and when he looked up and realised I was watching him, he started so violently he almost dropped the handset. “Cally, I don’t like this,” I said. I nodded toward the receptionist. “He’s scared. And I think he was just about to call someone to tell them where you are.”
Cally scarcely gave the receptionist a glance. “Oh, he’s always a bit creepy. I just ignore him.”
“Seriously, Cally, I don’t know if you’re safe here. Maybe we should go to a different hotel for the night. Throw them off the trail.”
For a moment, Cally said nothing. “What I think,” she said carefully, “is that you’re putting two and two together and making five.”
I opened my mouth to protest but she carried on speaking. “I think you’re tired and stressed, I think you’ve got a lot on your mind, and you’re starting to see patterns when there’s nothing much to see.”
“No. It’s not like that. I’m not making this stuff up.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Cally said. “But when we get tired, we
get things out of proportion and we overreact. I’m just the same.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “All right. I can see I’m not going to change your mind. But listen, could we maybe swap emails or something? I won’t keep pestering you or anything. It would just be nice to keep in touch.”
She pursed her lips. “I’ve got your phone number. I’ll call you tomorrow, or send a text. I’d like to know you’re OK, and my guess is, you’ll be feeling a lot better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “It’s been a weird couple of days.” I hesitated. “But even so, I’m glad I found you. It was good to see you again, Cally. I’ve…I’ve never forgotten you.”
She smiled, and when she looked at me, there was a soft glint in her eyes. “And I’ve never forgotten you either.” She tilted her head on one side. “You know, it’s funny, but in many ways you haven’t changed. You’re still the same sweet boy I met all those years ago.”
I shook my head. “Oh, I’ve changed, Cally. I’ve changed one hell of a lot. Believe me.”
“Sure,” Cally said. “I didn’t mean that to sound patronising. I just mean, you’ve still got the same spirit—like you think anything is possible. I kind of feel, I don’t know, like I’m going through the motions sometimes.”
“Cally, you’re going to be on TV tomorrow. I think that’s pretty exciting. And you must be pushing the boundaries a bit or the government wouldn’t be trying to interfere with your work. Me—I turn up to an office every day. I read emails about the correct use of the parking bays. I make PowerPoints about financial reports. On a really good day, I get to go on Facebook when no one is looking. And that’s it.”
“I’m sorry,” Cally said. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“No, it’s fine. But I don’t want your sympathy, Cally. I want you to take care of yourself, all right? Please, just take a bit of extra care. For my sake. If anything happened to you I’d never forgive myself.”
Cally looked at me in silence for a moment. “All right. I’ll be careful. And I’ll text you, Jake. When I get up to my room. Then you can reply to let me know you got back.”
I gave her a smile. “Thanks, Cally. I appreciate it.”
“That’s all right.” She looked over my shoulder toward the hotel’s front door. “I think that’s your taxi.”
I half turned toward the door, and when I looked back at Cally, she took a step closer and leaned toward me to kiss me on the cheek. The touch of her lips sent a thrill right through me. Her hair brushed very gently against my skin, and the warm fragrance of her perfume made me dizzy. “It was nice to see you, Jake,” she said. “Take care.”
“Sure,” I said, my voice hoarse. “You too.” I turned away from her and walked straight out onto the street.
I put my hand up to touch my cheek. Cally’s kiss had only been a formality, an affectionate gesture between friends. Even so, my heart raced and my mind was a whirl. Let them come now, I thought. I’ll punch their teeth out. But although the dark saloon was still parked along the street, I was no longer afraid. And the only person in sight was the taxi driver. I walked up to the taxi and bent down to speak through the open window. “Pardonnez moi,” I said. “I don’t need a taxi after all. Sorry. My mistake.”
The driver shook his head in confusion. “You don’t want taxi?”
“No, sorry. I’m going to walk.”
The driver glowered at me, muttering under his breath then put his car into gear and drove off.
I smiled to myself, squared my shoulders and walked down the dark street with my head held high, and just one thought in my mind: Cally kissed me.
Chapter 17
1919
STANDING ON THE SITE of the proposed quarry, Trevor stifled a yawn and glanced at Mr. Grigson, wondering if his employer had noticed. I reckon I got away with it, Trevor thought. The old duffer wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I fell down dead. Trevor allowed himself a wry smile and tried to concentrate on what Grigson was saying. The old man had the bit between his teeth; he’d spent the last ten minutes pointing out the various features of the site and delivering an endless stream of unwanted advice. Trevor was doing his best to appear interested and attentive, but each time he looked around the place, he thought of the lonely wail of a baby crying in the darkness, and the hiss and whisper of strange, unearthly voices.
“You do understand that, don’t you, Mr. Marley?”
Trevor snapped out of his daydream. What had he missed? The old man was looking at him, waiting for a response. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Definitely. This is a very important project.”
Grigson gave him a humourless smile. “Yes, well, you’d better wake yourself up a bit.” He raised his eyebrows. “I believe I’ve just heard the dulcet tones of our latest client.”
Trevor looked back over his shoulder. Grigson was right. Mr. Matthews was marching across the mud, looking for all the world like a general making ready to address his troops. Trevor let out a quiet, contemptuous snort. Who did Matthews think he was? The man had kept them waiting for at least thirty minutes.
Trevor made a point of looking at his watch, but when he saw the look Grigson was giving him, he stood up straight and presented Mr. Matthews with a broad grin.
“Now then, how are we doing?” Matthews called. “Everything ready for action?”
“Certainly, Mr. Matthews,” Grigson said. He stepped forward and extended his hand for a shake. Trevor followed suit, but while Matthews shook Grigson warmly by the hand, he scarcely glanced in Trevor’s direction.
“Good, good,” Matthews said. He turned his back on Trevor and looked out across the pit, casting his eye over the place as though he were counting every pebble.
Trevor stared at the man’s back and seethed, restraining the urge to tap Matthews on the shoulder and set him straight about a few things. Instead, Trevor covered his embarrassment by raising his hand to cover his mouth and clearing his throat as loudly as possible.
Matthews still did not turn to look at him, and Grigson, sycophant that he was, followed the great man’s lead. I don’t believe this, Trevor thought. This was supposed to be a big moment for him. He was supposed to be in charge of this survey. Really, there was no need for Grigson to be here at all. It’s all going wrong, he thought. Matthews snubbed me deliberately. Trevor ground his teeth together, but he couldn’t think of a single thing he could do to turn the situation around.
“Right then,” Matthews said. “Come on, Grigson, show me how you’re going to tackle this job.”
“Please, come this way,” Grigson said, gesturing with his outstretched arm. “I’ll show you my proposed plan of action.”
Matthews nodded. “And let’s talk about what workers you’ll need. You must use reliable men. And even then, you’ll need to keep an eye on them or they’ll rob you blind.”
“I can assure you that I’ll pick the team myself,” Grigson said. “I maintain a directory of good men, all with valuable experience in this work. I’ll make sure you get the very best men for the job, Mr. Matthews.”
“Good, good,” Matthews said as he started walking away. But then he hesitated and turned to face Trevor, looking him up and down. “Even so, you’ve got to make sure your junior keeps them in check. We don’t want the idle sods slacking on the job and expecting overtime to line their pockets.”
“Quite so,” Grigson said and he gave Trevor a stern look.
Trevor felt the blood drain from his face. That’s it, he thought. It’s all over. He looked down at the ground. He couldn’t bear to see Matthews gloating for another moment. The pompous idiot was clearly taking a delight in belittling him, and Grigson was obviously determined to take all the credit for the survey.
He listened as Matthews and Grigson walked away, scarcely believing the way they were talking to each other as if they were firm friends. But then, the two men were both members of the same class. Grigson had his family connections and his expensive education, while Matthews had his
money and clout in the town council. Trevor had nothing. And he’d never felt so excluded in his life. The only way they’ll mention my name, he thought, is if anything goes wrong. He smiled sadly. Despite all his plans and his efforts, his golden opportunity had come to nothing after all.
Chapter 18
2021
CALLY WATCHED JAKE until he started talking to the taxi driver then she turned and crossed the hotel lobby. He’ll be all right now, she thought. She headed for the stairs, ignoring the way the receptionist was watching her every move. She was tired and the wine she’d had with dinner was catching up with her. Her legs were heavy with fatigue and her mind was buzzing with a hundred niggling doubts. I need a damned good sleep, she told herself. But as she opened the door to her hotel room and flicked the light on, she was suddenly wide awake.
She held her breath and stood on the threshold, scanning the room. The place was in chaos. Papers and books littered the floor. Her clothes had been pulled from their hangers and thrown onto the bed. She’d left her laptop on the small writing desk, and now the desk was bare. It was possible that the laptop had been tossed onto the floor, but she doubted it. It was a good one and almost brand new—probably the only thing worth stealing in the whole room. “Bloody hell!” she hissed. “Why me?” She leaned in through the doorway, listening. There were few hiding places in the small room, and she was almost certain the burglar had long gone, but even so, it would be foolish to take unnecessary risks. She closed the door firmly then hurried back to the stairs. She’d insist on calling the police, and she’d give that receptionist a hard time too. Didn’t they have CCTV or something?
But at the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. The stairwell was separated from the lobby by an open archway, and she could hear the receptionist muttering darkly. There was something furtive and urgent in his tone and it made her skin crawl. She edged slowly toward the archway, staying close to the wall and keeping out of sight.
Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3) Page 9