Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3)

by Mikey Campling

  Behind me, someone was running, heavy boots thudding across the concrete, but I couldn’t turn around, couldn’t look away from the grisly scene in front of me. There were shouts, barked orders, then someone took hold of my arm, trying to pull me away from the stone. I shook myself free. “No!” I shouted. “I want to see. I want to be sure.”

  Before anyone could try and grab me again, I stepped forward, moving as close to the stone as I dared. I held the amulet tight in my fist, and I looked Crawford in the eye. This man had cut me, he’d been prepared to send my dad to prison, he’d threatened Cally, and he’d tried to condemn me to repeat the very ordeal I’d been running from for the past four years. And now, he was getting what he deserved. “Take him,” I whispered. “He’s all yours.”

  A flash of intense blue light made me close my eyes for a split second, and when I opened them, Crawford was gone. The stone was empty. The dazzling beams sparked and crackled, racing across the smooth black stone then, in a sudden rush, they hissed and leaped out into the air, vanishing into the darkness and fading away like a forgotten whisper.

  I took a deep breath. The air was tainted with the smell of scorched earth and ozone—and with something else. Beneath the bitter tang of smoke, there was the stench of burned flesh. It turned my stomach, and suddenly, the stresses and strains of the last few days rushed in on me. I was cold, drained, and utterly exhausted. I hung my head, closed my eyes and let out a low moan. I knew there were people standing around me, but I didn’t care. I was safe for the moment, and that was all that mattered. Everything else could wait.

  I sensed someone standing beside me and then there was a firm hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” someone said: a man’s voice, deep and gravelly. A French accent.

  I opened my eyes and looked up. And I could hardly believe what I saw. It was him. The man who’d stopped me at the station when I’d arrived in Saint Victor.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said. “I think you need to see a doctor. We need to make sure you’re OK.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. I just want to see Cally. Is she…is she all right?”

  The man frowned. “Doctor Freeman? Yes. We have a guard outside her hotel. She should be safe.”

  “Thank God for that.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Who are you—the police?”

  The man shook his head. “There will be time for questions later. We need to leave. These men have work to do.” He paused and glanced around the room, and for the first time I looked properly at the men who’d arrived with him. There were half a dozen of them, and they looked like something out of a movie: clad in black, with helmets and flak jackets, and each of them carrying an automatic weapon with a bright light mounted on the muzzle.

  The man took his hand from my shoulder and indicated the door. “We need to get you out of the way.”

  I hesitated. “Am I under arrest?”

  The man shrugged. “No. It is clear that you came here under duress. It is not in anyone’s interest to make formal charges against you.”

  “But Crawford—”

  The man didn’t let me finish. “I know of no one by that name. There are no records of this person. Not in France.”

  “But that’s not right,” I said. “Surely, you want to know what happened.”

  The man tilted his head on one side and studied my expression. “I have my instructions, but I am not at liberty to discuss them with you. All you need to know is that we do not wish to detain you, so for your own protection, it’s better that you return to England as soon as possible.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. This was all far too easy. There was no way I could get off so lightly. There had to be a catch. “But what about Cally—Doctor Freeman? Will she be allowed to leave as well?”

  “Yes, the same goes for your friend. We will make arrangements. We’ll put you on the next flight from Paris. You can be home in the morning.”

  I opened and closed my mouth. “I’m going home?” I suddenly felt lightheaded and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Yes. I just want to go home. Very much. As soon as I can.” I ran my hand across my face. “But I’ve got to see Cally before I go. I’ve got to talk to her and make sure she’s all right.”

  “Very well,” the man said. “But first, you have something that you must return.” He held out his hand. “The artefact belongs to the museum.”

  “Oh, yes.” I looked down at the amulet in my hand, remembering the old man who’d worn it thousands of years ago: the man who’d sent me home. I recalled the grim determination in his expression, the flash of bright blue reflected in his eyes. And for some reason I was reluctant to let the amulet go. “He must’ve lost it in the river,” I murmured.

  “I don’t understand. It was stolen it from the museum. A man is dead.”

  The words shook me out of my daze and I looked up, searching the man’s face. “Dead? It must have been Crawford. He had the amulet when he came to my hotel. I don’t know how he got it.”

  “It’s understood,” the man said. “But we’ll talk on the journey. I have a car nearby. Can you walk as far as the road?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up.”

  The man nodded. “Very good. It’s time to go.”

  And as we headed toward the door, I looked over my shoulder to get one last glimpse of the stone. It let me go, I thought. It’s over. It’s finally over. And I knew that, whatever happened, I ‘d never see that damned stone again. Not even in my dreams.

  Chapter 39

  3550 BC

  CLEOFAN WALKED QUICKLY through the village, but he slowed his pace as he neared his hut. A thin stream of dark smoke was already billowing from the hole in the roof, and he could hear Odely cursing as she tended the fire. He glanced down at the baby in his arms then he took a deep breath, ducked his head and entered his hut. His wife had her back to him, and she did not turn around, although she must have heard him walk in.

  “Odely,” he said, “I’m back.”

  Still, Odely did not look away from the fire, but carried on poking at the smouldering wood with a piece of stick. “I hope you’ve brought some wood,” she snapped. “This last lot you brought home is damp and useless.”

  Cleofan licked his lips. “No.”

  Odely turned on him. “What? We must have wood! Have you forgotten the feast tonight?” Her eyes went to the bundle in Cleofan’s arms. “That had better be some good meat. Otherwise, you can go back out, and you’d better not return until you’ve caught something.”

  “I have brought a rabbit,” he said, keeping his voice level. “But this is something…something much more valuable.”

  Odely scowled and muttered under her breath as she pushed herself to her feet. She stepped close to Cleofan, eyeing his bundle suspiciously. “What is it? What could you find that could be better than meat?”

  Cleofan raised his eyebrows and nodded toward his bundle. “See for yourself,” he said, opening his arms slightly, and parting the furs to show the baby’s face.

  Odely gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. She took a step back. “What have you done? Have you stolen this child from its poor mother?”

  Cleofan set his mouth in a grim line and stared at his wife. “Don’t be such a fool!” he said, raising his voice. “I would never do such a thing.”

  “Then where is it from? Where is its mother? Where is its tribe?” She shook her head. “They will come looking for it. You’ve brought danger to our village.”

  “His mother is dead. And his tribe are gone too. He is alone.” Cleofan glanced down at the baby for a moment. “He was alone.” He looked his wife in the eye. “He has us now. We are his family. And our tribe will be his tribe.”

  Odely hesitated. “I don’t understand, Cleofan. Where did you find him?”

  “In the forest. He was with his mother, but she was…ill.” Cleofan looked down. “She had lost her tribe. I tried to help her, but it was no use.”

  “She died from her sickness?” />
  “Yes,” Cleofan said. He looked up. “She could not be saved.”

  Odely stepped closer and touched the bundle of furs. “You said he. It’s a boy then?”

  Cleofan nodded.

  “Is he all right? He’s very quiet.”

  Cleofan frowned down at the baby. “He’s very weak. When his mother was ill, I don’t think she could look after him.”

  Odely chewed at her bottom lip. “He needs feeding.”

  “Yes,” he said gently. “Perhaps we could ask some of the women to help.”

  “Here, give him to me.” Odely tilted her chin upward. “I don’t need to ask anyone. I know what to do.”

  Cleofan hesitated. “But he needs a mother’s milk.”

  “Yes, yes,” Odely said. “I know all that.” She held out her arms for the baby. “Now, give him to me. I’ll look after him.”

  Cleofan narrowed his eyes and studied Odely’s expression. “You’ll take care of him? You’ll see that he’s fed?”

  Odely returned his stare. “Yes, I will.” She glanced at the baby. “I’ll take care of him as if he was my own.”

  Cleofan tilted his arms and let Odely take the baby from him. “Hold him gently. He doesn’t like it if you hold him too tight.”

  Odely cradled the baby. She squatted down by the fire and gently peeled the furs from the child’s body, so that he lay in her lap. The baby stirred and kicked his legs then let out a thin mewling cry.

  “Oh, look at him,” Odely said. “He’s a fine boy.”

  Cleofan peered over her shoulder. “Is he? Is he healthy?”

  Odely looked up at Cleofan and gave him a smile. “Yes. Yes, he is. But is it really all right? Can we really keep him?”

  “He has no one else to look after him.” Cleofan put his hand on her shoulder. “He is our son now.”

  For a moment, Odely and Cleofan looked into each other’s eyes, but then the baby began crying again. Odely picked him up from the furs and held him to her chest. “I need to find someone to feed him,” she said. “Perhaps Scima will help.” She stroked the baby’s head and sang gently to him, and the child opened his eyes and looked up at her.

  “No!” Odely cried, and she held the baby away from her.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Take it away! Take it away from me!”

  Cleofan bent down and took the baby. “What’s the matter, woman?”

  Odely clutched at the talisman she wore around her neck. “It’s his eyes!” she hissed. “Look at his eyes!”

  “Don’t talk nonsense, you foolish woman,” Cleofan snapped. “I saw his eyes in the forest. There’s nothing wrong with them.”

  “Don’t you see? They’re the wrong colour.”

  Cleofan held the baby up in front of his face. And when the baby met his gaze, he understood why Odely was so upset. The baby’s eyes were the deep blue of a winter sky. And so bright, he thought. Like the flames that sprang from the rock.

  “And look how he stares,” Odely said. “It isn’t right. It isn’t natural.”

  Cleofan looked deep into the child’s eyes. “It’s all right,” he said. “He’s just looking at us. He’s just watching us to see what we do.” He smiled at the baby. “I think we shall call you, The Watcher,” he said. “Yes. I like that. From now on, my little man, your name shall be Waeccan.”

  Chapter 40

  2021

  THE MAN’S NAME WAS XAVIER, and on the drive back to Saint Victor, he sat with me in the back of his car so we could talk. His driver, the heavyset man I’d seen at the station, occasionally glanced at me in the rear view mirror, but he didn’t say a word.

  The journey went quickly. I told Xavier all I knew, and he listened carefully, nodding sympathetically. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions, and I could tell from his expression that he believed everything I said.

  When we arrived back at the Ace hotel, the driver pulled up outside the front door, and half turned in his seat, as if looking to Xavier for instructions.

  Xavier studied me for a moment. “You’ve done well,” he said. “But now it is over. My advice to you is this—let it go.”

  I looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers together. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Jake, you need to take some time. Rest. Then forget that any of this ever happened.”

  I looked up at him. “Just like that? Go back to my boring life? My crappy job?”

  “Yes. It’s for the best.”

  “But I know about the stones,” I insisted. “I know what they can do. If everyone else knew—”

  “That can’t happen,” Xavier interrupted.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we don’t properly understand the stones ourselves,” Xavier said. “All we have are doubts and uncertainties, and that can only cause fear.” He shook his head. “No one wants that. Believe me.”

  I chewed my bottom lip. He was right. I’d lived with my knowledge of the black stone for the last four years, and it had made my life miserable. Even so, it seemed wrong to hide the stones away. There was so much yet to discover, so much that people could learn if they only knew that such things existed. I looked at Xavier and wondered how many of the stones’ dark secrets he already knew. “Tell me one thing—are there more of them out there?”

  Xavier pursed his lips and nodded once.

  “Where? How many?”

  “That, we do not know,” Xavier said. “Not for certain. But the stones we know about, they are…protected.”

  I studied his expression. He seemed genuine—kind even. There was a warmth in his brown eyes that people like Crawford would never know.

  “Go and collect your friend,” he said. “We’ll wait here for you, then we’ll take you to your hotel to gather your belongings. After that, we’ll drive you both to Paris.”

  “What do I tell Cally? What am I allowed to tell her?”

  “I leave that to you. I can speak with her, if you prefer.”

  I didn’t even consider his offer. Cally had been through enough; I’d protect her from any more shocks if I possibly could. “No. I’ll tell her. It’s better coming from me.”

  “Yes,” Xavier said. “But if I might suggest something, it would be better to start at the end. Tell her she is safe, tell her you’re both going home. There will be time for explanations later.”

  “Yes. I understand.” I let myself out the car. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” I closed the car door and headed for the hotel entrance.

  ***

  I stood outside Cally’s room and knocked gently on the door three times. “Cally, it’s me,” I called softly. “It’s all right.”

  The door opened immediately and Cally stood there, staring at me wide eyed. Her hair was awry, her brow furrowed. “Jake! What happened? Where have you been? Christ, you look awful! What happened to your face?”

  “It’s all right, Cally. We’re safe. It’s all over.”

  But Cally didn’t move a muscle. She kept her hand on the door as though prepared to slam it in my face. “But what happened to you? You’ve been gone so long.”

  I struggled to find the right words. I didn’t want to frighten her, but I had to tell her something. “There was a man waiting for me in my hotel room. He called himself Crawford.”

  Cally’s face paled. “Crawford?” She stepped back a little and peered nervously over my shoulder.

  I frowned. “You knew him? I don’t understand.”

  “He’s dangerous. He threatened me, he…he…” Cally visibly shuddered, and she struggled to speak, gasping for breath.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “It’s all right, Cally. He’s gone. For good.”

  Cally shook her head. “I don’t believe it. A man like that, he—”

  I stepped closer to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “It’s true. I got rid of him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cally, I pushed him onto the stone. I sent
him back, as far back as I could. He can never threaten you again.”

  She looked me in the eye for a moment then she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me. I held her tight. Her body was warm and soft. And when I pressed my face against her hair, it smelled like a summer evening.

  “I’ve been so worried,” she murmured. “I thought you were never coming back.”

  “I know,” I said, and I stroked her hair gently. “But everything’s all right now.”

  She pulled away a little then led me into the room, pushing the door closed behind me. She looked up at me. “Is it really all over?”

  “Yes. We can go home now.” I hesitated. “I hate to spring this on you, but there’s…there’s a car waiting outside. They’re going to take us to Paris and put us on a flight. We’ll be back in England in no time.”

  “What? Who? Is it something to do with Bernard Azoulay?”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure who you mean, but this man is called Xavier. He’s all right. He’s with the French authorities. They just want us to get out of the way. They want us to go home and forget about the whole thing.”

  “But—”

  I didn’t let her finish. “Cally, it’s all right. We’re going home. You’re safe, and that’s all you need to know.”

  She looked into my eyes then suddenly, her lips were on mine. Her kiss was fierce, hot, and hungry. And it was wonderful.

  We held each other tight, and we didn’t stop kissing until someone knocked at the door.

  ***

  What happened over the next fifteen minutes seemed too ordinary to be real. I introduced Xavier to Cally, and Cally packed a bag. She was clearly still nervous and unsure of Xavier, but she let me lead her downstairs and out to the car.

  Cally hesitated when she saw the driver standing beside the car, but the man bowed his head politely, and held the car door open for us.