Secret of Light

by K. C. Dyer

  “Trouble?” Darrell set down her pen. “Did one of the teachers see you?”

  Brodie shook his head. “As a matter of fact, it was Conrad.”

  “What?” Kate craned her neck to look behind Brodie’s chair.

  Brodie laughed quietly. “It’s okay. He didn’t actually see me, but when I saw him sneaking around outside my room, I hid behind the portable blackboard they keep in the small alcove at the end of the hall. He poked around a bit, so I stood there until he went back in his room. I waited for five minutes to make sure he was in for good, then I came down.”

  Darrell felt worried. “What do you think he was doing out there?”

  “Who knows?” Brodie shrugged. “But never mind that now. Let me show you something I found today.”

  Kate smiled triumphantly. “I knew you were up to something!”

  “Was it in the cave?” Darrell demanded. She still felt like the cave belonged, somehow, only to her, and that anything happening there was her own personal business. “I saw you head over there this afternoon when I was in the art room.”

  Brodie nodded. “Since my pictures didn’t turn out very well, I decided to go back into the cave for another look. I found this.” He pulled a small, dirty object out of his pocket and lay it on the table.

  Darrell pounced on it. “A stick of chalk! So someone did draw the lighthouse.”

  Brodie nodded. “And tonight, before I came up to the study room, I picked up this.” He lay a second identical, albeit cleaner, piece of red chalk on the table beside the first.

  Darrell stared at the chalk. “From the board in Professor Tooth’s office, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I guess I’ve seen it there, but until you brought this other piece in, it didn’t register.” She looked at Kate. “Someone wanted us to go to the lighthouse.”

  Kate nodded. “Professor Tooth?”

  Brodie shrugged. “Not necessarily. But it did have to be someone who had access to red chalk like the stuff in the office.”

  Kate rubbed her eyes wearily. “There is so much about this I don’t understand. Who put the lighthouse drawing there? Is it a clue someone left for us to find? How does all this time travel happen, anyway?” She slammed her hand on the table.

  “Shhh! Kate, keep quiet,” warned Darrell. She put her hand on Kate’s arm. “Let’s hear Brodie out.”

  “Listen,” Brodie interjected, “all I know is what happened last summer should never have happened according to the laws of physics, chemistry, and any other science I can think of, including logic. But happen it did, we can all vouch for that. And from what Kate told me, you did it again on your own.” He looked serious. “Kate gave me the quick version, Darrell, but can you tell me what happened when you went back again?”

  Darrell felt shame wash over her. “I’m sorry I’ve been so awful, Brodie. I was just so sure if I worked hard enough, I could change the past.” She slid the ancient notebook across the table and told Brodie the story of her long search for Leonardo’s secret.

  Brodie listened quietly, nodding, and then surprised Darrell with a question. “Aren’t you happy at Eagle Glen?”

  “What do you mean? Of course I’m happy here. I love this school.”

  “Well,” he stretched his long legs out from his chair, “if you want so badly to prevent the accident from happening, you may never end up here at Eagle Glen. You will have changed the past — that’s got to affect the present.”

  “Oh. I guess you’re right.” Darrell sat quiet for a moment, and then put her head in her arms on the table. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, her voice muffled. “It didn’t work.”

  Brodie nudged her elbow. “Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean it can’t ever work,” he said.

  Darrell lifted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’m not sure myself. But if Leonardo did invent a time machine, I think he might be very interested in the true nature of your visit to him.” The quiet tone of his voice couldn’t cover the enthusiasm. “What if you only went about things the wrong way?”

  Kate looked shocked. “You mean she should have told him about where she was really from?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe she could do it still.” He leaned forward. “Look. We still have a couple of days before the Renaissance fair. What if we get all our work done and then plan to take a trip before the fair? We can take Leonardo’s notebook back, tell him the whole story, and find out what he really knew about time travel.”

  Kate groaned and gestured toward the door of the library, through which the howling wind could still be heard. “Please tell me you don’t mean right now!”

  “It’s all right, Miss Couch Potato, you’re safe for the present,” Brodie said, chuckling. “We couldn’t see anything on a night like this anyway.”

  “But what about the lighthouse?” Kate’s voice was concerned. “The light tower is almost finished. Aren’t they supposed to demolish the lighthouse soon?”

  Darrell nodded. “Uncle Frank said they would take down the lighthouse as soon as the tower was up and running.” She paused. “We’ll lose our portal to the past.”

  “We’ll just have to go before that happens,” said Brodie. “They don’t work on weekends, do they? We’ll go on Saturday. That way no one will be around.”

  “But Saturday is the day of the fair,” said Kate. “We can’t go then. Everyone will know we’re gone.”

  “We could go Saturday,” said Darrell quietly. “All our set-up work is scheduled for Friday, and I’m only on duty Saturday morning.”

  “I’m off Saturday afternoon as well,” said Brodie.

  “Well, I’m on Saturday afternoon,” said Kate, “but I bet I can switch with Lily.”

  “Do you think this can really happen?” asked Darrell.

  “We’ll make it happen,” said Brodie firmly. “Or do the best we can to try. Hopefully this storm will blow itself out before our little trip.”

  Delaney growled low in his throat.

  “A little trip to where?” said a harsh voice from the library entrance.

  Startled, Darrell shone her flashlight at the figure silhouetted in the doorway.

  “I thought I saw a light in here. What are you three doing here so late at night? Planning how to get me in more trouble with the principal?”

  Darrell slipped the book into her pocket as Brodie spoke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Conrad. We’re here giving Kate a little help with some of her — er — homework, and we’re done now, anyway. So you can quit worrying about us and go to bed.”

  Conrad turned his pale gaze onto Darrell. “I know you’re up to something,” he said, unknowingly echoing Kate’s words. “And I plan to find out what it is. I’m sick of being the one who always gets into trouble. I told the professor about your little lighthouse jaunt, Gimpy, and I think she’ll be pretty interested to hear how you’re spending time when you’re supposed to be in bed. Then maybe she’ll forget I didn’t get my work in today, not that I care about stupid history class, anyway.” His eyes gleamed in the light from the flash. “And don’t think I didn’t see the book you stuffed into your pocket, Gimpy,” he sneered over his shoulder. “You should remember to keep track of your valuables. You wouldn’t want anything to get lost.” He elbowed aside the door and stalked out, leaving it banging on its hinges.

  “What did that mean?” spluttered Darrell in disgust. “Every time I begin to think he might be turning out okay...” She thought about telling Kate and Brodie about Conrad catching her near the lighthouse, but they’d already started for the door. Besides, she’d already told them how stupid she’d been. Being seen near the lighthouse was just one more mistake.

  Kate grinned at Brodie as they stepped out in the hall. “Make sure you lock your room tonight, Brodie. I can’t be there to protect you when I’m catching up on my sleep.”

  “I think I can look after myself.” Brodie grinned back and gave Kate a gent
le push. “But thanks anyway.” He waved goodnight and disappeared into the darkness in the direction of the stairs, as Kate and Darrell walked quietly down the hall to their room.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Exams out of the way, final preparations for the Renaissance fair began in earnest. Eagle Glen was awash in noisy activity as stages and equipment were constructed, music practised, and costumes sewed. Professor Myrtle Tooth oversaw all preparations and remained a centre of calm in the middle of the storm. A devastating rain on the Thursday before the fair set things back and alternate venues inside the school were contemplated, but by Friday afternoon, the sun set into a red horizon and forecasts promised clear skies for the rest of the weekend.

  Saturday morning dawned to a thin skiff of high cloud floating through a translucent sky. Preparations began early, and in the office Mr. Gill gave Darrell a sheaf of paper.

  “Professor Tooth has asked that these information pamphlets be distributed. Since everyone is putting the finishing touches on their areas of responsibility, could you make sure these sheets get handed out?”

  “Sure, Mr. Gill.”

  Darrell hitched up one side of her gown with one hand and carried the handouts in the other. She smiled to herself at the light weight of the emerald green fabric. This thing is sure a lot easier to move in than the heavy brocade I had to wear in Florence.

  As she emerged out of the front doors, the fair came alive before her eyes. Tents of every conceivable colour and fabric had been erected on the flat area in front of the school. To one side, a jousting pitch had been delineated with flags and streamers. Boris Meirtz, dressed as an English squire, was putting a final coat of silver paint on a pair of wooden swords he had built.

  “Nice tights.” Darrell handed him his copy of the notice.

  Boris blushed bright red. “I tried to come up with something else, but Professor Tooth is giving marks for authenticity, and this is the only thing I could find that squires wore.”

  Darrell grinned. “That’s okay. At least you’re not stuck in a long dress.”

  Boris blinked, and nodded rapidly. Behind him, several students shook sawdust onto the jousting field. Darrell reached over the barrier and handed them each a notice.

  “Fair lady?”

  Darrell turned to see Brodie standing behind her wearing a big grin and a set of chain mail made from rings pulled off the top of soft drink cans.

  “Wow! That must have taken a long time to put together.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. My mom did most of the work. She collected these things in two days at the university and then wired them together. I just had to connect the sleeves to the main body.”

  Checking over her shoulder for eavesdroppers, Darrell whispered, “Does it feel like the real thing?”

  Brodie grinned. “Not really. The closest I came to wearing anything like this was at Ainslie Castle, and their chain mail was a lot rustier and a lot heavier, as I recall.” He bent his head close to Darrell’s. “I’ll try to get rid of it for this afternoon. Anyway, I wanted to tell you Kate is looking for you. She’s over by the fortune teller’s tent.”

  “Oh yeah! I promised to help Mrs. Follett try out her skills.” Darrell stuffed the rest of the notices into Brodie’s hands. “Hand one of those out to everyone you see, okay?”

  She hurried off as Brodie reluctantly turned on one stirruped heel and began distributing notices to a large group of giggling serving girls setting tables in one of the food tents.

  Darrell read the sign on the tent aloud. “Madame Flora: Seer of all Things Past and Yet to Come.”

  “Great! You made it. Let’s go in.” Kate wore a grey sweatshirt with a huge rip across the front and an elaborately pleated skirt.

  “Elegant outfit.”

  “I only had time to get half-dressed, okay? I’ll get the top on later.” Kate danced impatiently from foot to foot. “We’ll only go in for a minute. I’ve still got a few things to get ready, but I promised we’d help out.”

  Darrell rolled her eyes. “It’s only Mrs. Follett, dressed up as a gypsy. We may find out when the next school newsletter will be sent home, but that’s about all.”

  Kate sighed with exasperation. “Look, I’ve only got twenty minutes before I have to go back on duty at my booth. It’s just to give Madame Flora some practice.”

  Darrell shrugged and slid inside the tent, Kate following close behind.

  “You go first. I’ll stand back here,” Kate said, and pushed Darrell toward the woman seated at a small table inside the gloomy tent.

  Darrell sat down in an old wicker chair. The table was covered with a black cloth, garishly embroidered with the signs of the zodiac, moons, and stars in gold thread. A glass globe sat atop a ragged rip in the cloth, imperfectly concealing a flashlight secreted underneath. The dark interior of the tent smelled of mothballs, making Darrell’s eyes water.

  Madame Flora adjusted her turban, which waggled dangerously as the girls made their way into the tent. “Cross my palm with silver,” she began in a quavery voice.

  Darrell rolled her eyes at Kate but managed to fish around in the leather purse she had tied at her waist to come up with a dollar.

  “I think I’ve only got a loonie,” she said, apologetically, “and I know it’s not made of silver.”

  Madame Flora smiled. “I’m sure it will be fine, dear,” she said, tucking the coin into the pocket of her royal purple bathrobe.

  “Wait — wait — I’ve got silver,” said Kate, and hurriedly stuffed an old quarter in Darrell’s hand. Darrell passed the quarter to Madame Flora, who dropped it quickly into her jangling pocket.

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Follett whispered into the corner.

  “Happy to help,” Kate whispered back.

  Mrs. Follett resumed her role as Madame Flora and gazed meaningfully at Darrell. “Let me look into the glass and see what visions I can call forth from the future,” she intoned, her voice a full octave deeper than normal. She struggled briefly under the table until, with a click, a dim light shone from the crystal ball.

  “Your future appears very bright, dear,” Mrs. Follett began, once again forgetting her gypsy persona. The flashlight flickered once and went out.

  Darrell snorted. “So much for my bright future.”

  “Wait a moment — wait — one — moment,” insisted Mrs. Follett, still fiddling under the tablecloth. The light would not go back on.

  “I’m afraid my battery has died, dear,” she said sadly.

  “Oh, Madame Flora,” Kate implored. “Can’t you read tarot cards or some tea leaves or something?”

  Darrell grinned. “That’s all right, Madame Flora. It’s time we got back to our jobs, anyway.”

  “Well, dear, you did give me the donation. Let me read your palm, in exchange.” She looked conspiratorially at Kate. “I’ve just read a new book from the school library on the subject, and I’d love to give it a try.”

  A vision of piercing blue eyes floated through Darrell’s brain. She swallowed. “I — I’m not sure...”

  Kate poked her in the back. “C’mon, Darrell. It’s just for fun.”

  Darrell glared at Kate, but lay her hand, palm up, on the table.

  “Now let me see,” began Madame Flora, squinting though the dim light inside the tent at Darrell’s palm.

  “Will this help?” Kate said, and hoisted the tent flap to let in a wash of cool air and thin December sunshine.

  “Thank you, dear.” Madame Flora put on her reading glasses and peered at Darrell’s open hand. “Hmmmm. Well. This is certainly very strange. Well, well, well.” She looked at Darrell over the top of her reading glasses.

  “Is it something really cool?” whispered Kate. “Will she marry a tall, handsome stranger with blue hair?” She broke off, dissolving in laughter.

  “No, I don’t see that,” said Madame Flora, and her face creased with worry. “It’s your lifeline, dear. I don’t recall seeing one quite like it in the book.”


  “What do you mean?” asked Darrell.

  “It’s so — so branched. The book said broken life-lines are quite common and do not necessarily indicate a short life. But this — well, perhaps it means you will have many careers in the future. That must be it.” Madame Flora nodded firmly.

  Darrell began to pull her hand away and rise, but Madame Flora, with a twinkle directed at Kate, pulled her back down into the seat. “We have to check your love life, dear. That is an essential part of having your fortune told.”

  “Yeah, Darrell,” Kate chimed in. “Let’s see if we can find that good-looking stranger in your future.”

  Mrs. Follett smiled, and without even looking at Darrell’s hand she gave a little cough and resumed the deep voice of Madame Flora. “You will find great love in your life, and — and — great...” she paused and looked down at Darrell’s palm for further inspiration.

  “Money?” interjected Kate, hopefully.

  “No — no, dear, that’s not it.” Madame Flora gazed into Darrell’s palm for a moment and then, looking very flustered, pulled off her turban, instantly becoming Mrs. Follett again. She squeezed Darrell’s hand and got to her feet. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at reading the future,” she said, patting her flattened hair with nervous fingers. “I think I should go help out with the apple bobbing.”

  Darrell gave a forced smile. “That’s okay, Mrs. Follett. I know it’s all in fun, anyway.” She watched the school secretary struggling to get out of her bathrobe. “Let me help you with your sleeve.”

  “Oh, thank you, dear. Yes, the apple bobbing booth is really the place for me. Much less upsetting. Come to think of it, with all the water over there I should probably be keeping this bathrobe on.”

  Darrell glanced at Mrs. Follett thoughtfully. “Yes, maybe you’re right about that. Um, Mrs. Follett, what did you mean by the apple bobbing being less upsetting?”

  Kate, who was still holding the tent flap open, let it fall, and the rank, dim light of the tent swallowed them once more.