I couldn’t exactly see his eyes, but I knew they were locked onto mine. “Oh, it’s real,” he said.
Nature intervened with a bright streak of lightning and a huge clap of thunder. I looked upriver past the bridge and above the treetops. The storm formed right upon us. As I watched, the dark cloud billowed higher, a familiar and scary sight to me. All my passion turned to ice, and I tried to pull away from Navarre. It was my old fear twisted and somehow now worse than it ever was. I yanked against him. “I have to go.”
But Navarre didn’t understand my alarm and kept kissing me until I was forced to scream in panic. Only then did he pull away from me with a confused look on his face. He let go of the bars and put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re trembling,” he said. “Why are you afraid?” He ran a hand gently down my cheek and then my shoulder.
A clash of thunder clapped down hard, but it wasn’t the reverberation that frightened me. It was that cloud. I looked at it again, horrified. I needed to get home into the house, to close the windows. I pulled again. He stepped away from me with a look of total confusion, but I didn’t care. I ran from him as if my life depended on it, depended on beating the cloud inside.
I didn’t look behind me. There was a rumble of thunder or perhaps it was the engine of his motorcycle. I don’t know which, and I suppose it didn’t matter. Right before I reached the cottage a wall of rain slammed into me with hard, biting drops. And then I was beneath the porch and into the house. I slammed the door behind me and heaved huge racking breaths before I raced around shutting the windows. Rivulets of rain ran down my scalp. I had walked home with my stockings in tatters, my hat missing and an aching, wet, bruise of need between my legs.
Chapter Seven
It was only three days later that Everett showed up at our door holding my envelope in his hands with an eager expression on his face. I had just returned from picking herbs and was in the kitchen emptying my full basket when I heard a knock at the door.
“Zara!” he said excitedly. “Did you really mean this?” He was holding the letter in the air and practically jumping in place.
“Hello, Everett.” I couldn’t help but laugh. For all my immoral problems, the joy in Everett’s world was easy to latch onto. “It’s true,” I replied. “I saw the orange cloud. But, Everett, I only had a moment to see it. It was almost dark. Worse, there’s no way we can go back there. It was a…strange occurrence.”
“Can’t we even try to go and see it? I brought my canoe. We can go almost anywhere on it.”
“No. It’s on the Lucians’ compound. No outsiders allowed,” I said apologetically. An idea struck me. “There may be a way to at least explore near the area without trespassing. There’s a tributary on the other side of their compound. It runs just north of the cottage and I think it empties into the bay by the compound. We could take your canoe to find out. At the very least, we can explore. Who knows what we’ll find?”
He nodded and gave me an impish smile. “I’ll take a crack at it.”
Everett left his canoe by the bridge. I helped him load his equipment onto the boat. We boarded and then pushed off. With strong, sure strokes Everett guided the canoe against the current until we drifted past the tributary. He circled the canoe around and steered us down the small channel, although now with the current and not against it.
“So, how did you end up on the compound?” he said in an impressed tone. “Everyone says they’re so secretive. How did you manage an invite?”
“One of our trees fell onto their property, crushing a fence. I went and inspected it, and then once on the other side got a little turned around.” A knot of anxiety crunched in my stomach at the memory.
“Too bad I wasn’t there to see it.”
I was grateful that he couldn’t see my face and the crimson color it turned. Instead, I asked, “Is there anything that I can help you scout for? Or just the same as before, the orange dye?”
“Keep your eyes open for streams that empty into the river, or peculiar motions in the water. And, of course, it would make my day if you happened to see the dye I’ve been searching for.”
I loved the idea of being a scout and the anticipation of discovery. “Perhaps four eyes will be better than two. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
The full, smooth river gave way to the cloistered feel of the stream, although one bank had a wide expanse of sandy beach. Not long after that we passed an overgrown trailhead and I recognized the hibiscus plants that flanked it. It was the trail that came from our cottage and opened onto the dry riverbed that the creek snaked through. I looked around and estimated where I thought Navarre’s property might start. I pointed to the dense foliage. “Everett, I think the pool I saw the dye in would be somewhere deep in the woods around there.”
“Let’s pay close attention in this area then.”
Now we passed palms and oaks that leaned over the water, their thin branches moving like fingers over our heads as we passed beneath them. Everywhere I looked there was growth, clamoring and jockeying, fighting over the tiniest shards of sunlight that pierced the foliage and lit upon the ground. I could almost feel the undergrowth keening, moving toward it.
I racked my gaze back and forth between the two banks, determined to find some anomaly that would lift Everett’s spirits. When finally my eyes spotted something, I gave a shout of joy.
There, just at the edge of the riverbank, I saw an orange streak spreading in the water. The bright color curled into the dark water around it, into thin tendrils before finally dissipating. I was so excited that I half-jumped out of my seat and rocked the boat. “Look!” I pointed. “Look, Everett!”
“My God.” He whispered those words like a man in church who had just been saved. Then he whooped with joy and his whole face shone with pure happiness and it was infectious. I found myself at the edge of my seat captivated by the billowing color as it smoked away and disappeared.
Everett paddled toward shore, guiding us around a small copse of trees, all the while talking excitedly. I didn’t hear a word of what he said for as we passed beyond the tree and turned to bank the canoe, I saw the beach come into view. And on the beach, in a wide circle, stood ten enormous stones. They were taller than any man, and thick as slabs. In the center lay a stone table that was propped upright. Iron rings at the top bled stains of rust down either side.
“Everett,” I spoke his name in an excited hiss. “Do you see that?”
He was distracted and didn’t answer. I saw him digging through his equipment. He said almost angrily, “Where did I put my camera, did you see it? And great gobs of fire, where are my vials?”
“Everett, are those standing stones?”
“What?” he said again and looked up briefly. “Yes, yes, I noticed.”
The stones meant nothing to him. His obsession was the curious orange dye that streamed from unknown rivers to spread in front of him.
But I understood his passion, because one of my own was blooming inside me at that very moment. My blood was hot in my veins as I looked at those stones. That table. Fear and carnal excitement flooded me. I knew, somewhere in the core of my being that something otherworldly and amazing happened here. But I feared to the bottom of my soul that it might be something horrible instead.
But there in the bright daylight and with a strong man beside me, I was abuzz with a wild urge to jump out of the canoe and run ashore. In my mind’s eye, I saw nude bodies and strange rituals happening right in front of me. I even heard the sounds, the drums and the frantic cries of ecstasy and fear.
I looked around. There was no one around. I saw a path that led through the foliage just beyond the stones between a manicured arch of hedges. Peeking through the arch I could see the white stone mansion in the distance, impervious and elegant in the afternoon light.
“Everett, can you leave me on the shore for a bit? I’d like to explore.”
“I don’t know, Zara. Look at those stones. These people look like the real McCoy. What if so
meone comes along?”
“Then I’ll say we are on government business. You are official. Remember? You’re wearing your uniform. Besides, you could spread your equipment on the sand and gather exactly what you need. Get organized and take samples.”
He thought for a moment. “That’s actually quite clever, Zara. You just might be worth your salt.”
The canoe came to rest on the soft white sand and I practically jumped onto the shore. My bare feet sank into the warm powdery earth. I could smell the pungent aroma of the outgoing tide. Everett shouted with another discovery. He was so like a child with his enthusiasm.
I smiled, a concession that I too was swept away by the excitement. The stones towered all around me, and the white color of their surface stood out starkly against the lush dark greens and browns. I approached the stones cautiously and just outside the ring I had a moment’s hesitation. I shoved it aside, though, and walked boldly into the center of the ring.
Immediately a strange tightness overwhelmed me. It was an acute, oppressive feeling. My heart beat faster. My stomach twisted. I couldn’t say the feeling was fear, but it was close enough to fear that it gave me pause. I stood perfectly still, listening, thinking, absorbing that strange turmoil inside me. I had the most absurd idea that someone or something had taken notice of me.
I looked around, but of course there was only Everett. What foolishness. I was scaring myself! It was only the result of my wild imagination in such a setting, I convinced myself, and I approached the stone table.
The slab was immense, ten feet long at least. What in the world happened on this rock? I stepped close, noticing the chisel marks where the stone had been hewn from the earth. I saw the iron rings hammered into the stone.
Stealing a peek at Everett, who was happily filling bottles with the orange-streaked water, I continued on toward the path and followed along it as it disappeared beneath the arch. Darkness plummeted over me—only for a moment—and then I was on the other side and standing in the bright sun.
My gaze went straight to the jewel in the center of my view. The mansion. It sparkled like yellow gold in the sun and looked like the home of a god. Stone steps led to a pair of double doors with a stained-glass window above them, and above it all the tower loomed, pointing like an arrow toward the sky.
I stood and stared for a long time, until I thought I saw movement in one of the windows. Then I crept back through the archway and onto the beach.
Everett was out of the canoe and now crouched in the shallows of the river. He was furiously snapping pictures with his small camera before bending over and swiping his hand across the water to disperse the orange cloud and start again. I was certain he didn’t even know I stood nearby, but he surprised me when his head popped up and he called over to me. “Come here. Hurry! Look, look.”
I went to him, wading into the cool water. Just in front of Everett, the river seemed to boil. It churned and bubbled and the sand beneath resembled a miniature volcano, even more so with the orange dye that spewed from the center.
Instinctively I took a step back. “What is that?”
“It’s a sand boil.”
“A what?”
“A sand boil,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Any geology student would give his right arm to see this.” He looked at me intently, his blue eyes bright with excitement. “But the prize here is the dye. This is going to change everything, Zara. Everything.”
“How wonderful.” I said, and I meant it.
We both stared at the strange vent in the earth, unable to tear our eyes from the curiosity happening at our feet. In the shallows of the water the sand bubbled and oozed, creating miniature volcanoes that spewed Everett’s strange orange dye.
He leaned down and swiped his hand over the sand, sending up a whitish cloud. It billowed all around us only to disappear just as quickly. Then, on the now blank slate of smooth sand, another disturbance took its place and began spewing orange dye. Everett took my hand, plunged it into the water, and swiped it over the sand and we watched as the process repeated itself.
“Think of it, Zara. This proves my theory. There is an underground network here. Just like I thought. Rivers, caves, all connected. All part of one aquifer. Here is the proof.”
It seemed too outlandish to be true. “It sounds so fantastical.”
He nodded. “It does. But, it’s true. All around us—” he spanned his hand in a full circle “—the bedrock is porous. All of it connected through caves and caverns. Even rivers that we know nothing about. Well, now we know at least something. We may be able to use the water one day, or to predict a sinkhole—the possibilities are endless,” he added eagerly. He reached over and pulled the camera out of the canoe. “And I have the proof.” He focused the lens for a moment, and I thought he was going to photograph the water again, but I heard a click, and looked up to see the lens of the camera pointed at me.
“A memento,” he said, before turning and snapping more pictures of the sand boils. “To our success.”
I assisted him for a while longer. I corked the vials as he filled them, marking on the map exactly where I knew us to be. Then we climbed back into the canoe and Everett paddled us away happily, successful at last.
We reached the bridge and to my complete surprise, June sat on the bank beside it. Her long black hair was loose and draped over her shoulders.
“Who is that?” Everett whispered in a husky voice, and I heard the male appreciation lurking just beneath his words.
“June,” I called out as Everett landed the canoe. “How are you?”
She gave a smile. “I’ve never been happier. Who’s your friend?”
“Everett. He works for the WPA as a scientist.”
“A geologist,” he corrected me. He splashed through the water and climbed the bank to shake June’s hand.
She shook his hand and I immediately saw the effect she had on him, the sudden intake of breath, the puffing out of Everett’s chest. She noticed his reaction, too, and looked at him coyly. I wondered for a moment if Everett wouldn’t pull out the camera and take a picture of her, too.
She giggled. “You two look like you were up to no good. Were you poking around out there, digging where you shouldn’t be?” She jutted out her hip in a playful manner. Her demeanor had changed dramatically. “You might find something you shouldn’t see.”
Everett announced cheerfully, “Oh, I’d say we saw a few things. We saw those stones.”
June looked shocked. “You saw the stones? On Silver Creek?”
“Sure thing, and I found exactly what I was looking for.”
“Did you now?” Her gaze flitted from him back to me.
“I sure did—” He turned to me. “Say, Zara, is she from the group I need to talk to about getting permission?”
“Permission?” asked June. “For what?”
“I’d like to come and look for more interesting things. I believe your property might have the clues I’m looking for to piece together a puzzle.”
“Really?” She tilted her head in a smile and her lovely black hair danced in the sunlight.
“I really should be going back now,” I said pointedly.
“Really? I was going to invite you both—” she shot Everett a sly and quick look “—to our ceremony tonight.”
I went still. Ceremony?
“Were you now?” said Everett.
She laughed in a bright and pretty voice. “No. I was kidding. I do think it would scare both of you half to death.” She gave a sultry look. “Well, maybe not both of you, but certainly one of you.” She leaned a bit closer to Everett and said, “We are having a full-moon ceremony tonight. You know, out reveling in the moonlight. Doing bad things, indulging in our passions.”
“Moonlight ceremony, you say?” Everett said. “At the stones?”
“But you’d have to join our group first and that’s not easy to do.” I perceived her as toying with him like a cat toys with a mouse it has trapped.
He
asked her, “Maybe I could come along, check things out? Have a look around?”
“That might be acceptable.” June was eagerly smiling at him. “Why don’t you finish unloading your canoe and afterwards I’ll show you around,” she said in a husky voice. “But first, let me walk Zara up to her porch. Girl stuff to talk about, you know.”
“Everett, can you help me at the canoe?” I asked insistently.
He sloshed through the water. “What do you need?”
“Everett,” I said, “don’t go with her. I have a terrible feeling. Evil things happen over there. It’s a strange place.”
“Zara, I’ll be fine. I’m a grown man and I want to find out more about the land.”
“Everett, please,” I insisted.
He shot me a look that told me to leave it alone, so I bit my lip.
“Goodbye, Everett,” I called out, wishing that he would listen to my warnings.
June looked at me. “He’s an interesting fellow. Seems excitable. Is he your beau?”
“Mine?” I couldn’t stop the awkward laugh that escaped my lips. This was what her “girl stuff” was? “No,” I said emphatically. The mere suggestion of it surprised me. I suppose I thought of him as a kind of big, goofy kid. Brilliant and handsome, for sure, but he didn’t appeal to me.
“Well, that’s too bad.”
We fell in step with each other. She picked a flower from the basket that I had tucked in the crook of my arm, and she brought it to her nose. “We’re not all bad, you know.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Her blue eyes cut over to mine. “You can’t judge what you don’t understand.”
“I understand more than I want to,” I said hotly.
We had come to the driveway of my Aunt Cleo’s cottage. Through the rushes and cattails, I saw Everett floating along toward the bridge.
“Then we don’t have to worry that you’ll get it in your head to try to find out more about us or our ceremonies.” She batted her thick eyelashes as she looked at me. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Her eyes looked around, almost as if she thought someone might be listening. “I’d get in a lot of trouble for talking about it. About any of it. Besides, if Navarre were to see a stranger around there, he’d kill them.” She spoke with such plain certainly that I believed her. “Well, I best move along. I’ve been neighborly enough.” And with that, she sauntered down the path toward the bridge.
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