Fountain of Secrets (The Relic Seekers)

by Clenney, Anita

  “You think it might cure you?” Kendall asked.

  “No, but I have to try.”

  They started down the hill toward the town. Kendall was electric with excitement. “We went from Italy to England through a maze. Do you realize what this means?”

  “We found a way to avoid airfare?” Jake said.

  Jake’s sarcasm almost made Nathan smile, but he hid it. It hadn’t dampened Kendall’s enthusiasm. Her spirit and excitement were two of the reasons he’d hired her. Not the most important ones, but they made Nathan feel alive.

  “We traveled through… space. This is unbelievable. We just went from one country to another by walking through a maze. Aren’t you excited about this?” she asked Jake.

  “Excited isn’t exactly how I’d describe it.”

  Jake couldn’t stand not being in control. A trait that was both challenging and helpful for Nathan’s purposes.

  “First thing we need to do,” Jake said, “is make sure we’re even in the right century. Then we’ll find these holy wells and see if it rids you of your curse.”

  They were in the right time, at least not in medieval times. There were several people on the hill, some sitting on the grass, others walking. A few were dressed in costume—which seemed to be normal around here—but most of them wore jeans or modern clothes. There were various accents, but most of them British.

  Jake put a hand on Kendall’s back and guided her around two men walking side by side.

  “Can you tell us where to find the Chalice Well?” Nathan asked.

  “At the bottom of the hill, just there,” one of the men said, pointing.

  “You must have walked right by it on the way up,” the other said.

  “We need to talk to Marco and see what he knows about this place,” Nathan said as they walked down the hill.

  “Marco seems to forget as much as he remembers,” Jake said. “You’ll probably learn more from that journal.”

  It took them twenty minutes to reach the Chalice Well Gardens. There were already people milling about, but the gardens weren’t open yet. “Too bad we’re broke,” Kendall said. “There’s a gift shop. I bet they have clothes. Mine feel like they could walk on their own.”

  “There’s a public restroom and phones,” Jake said. “We can clean up, wash off your wrist, and then we need food.”

  “We don’t have any money,” Kendall said. She had forgotten about her wrist.

  “I have fifty bucks in my boot for emergencies,” Jake said. “Like falling through portals.”

  “Dollars?” she asked. “You’ll have to exchange it for pounds. You don’t have ID.”

  “I could do it under the table.”

  “Don’t bother,” Nathan said. “I’ll have Fergus send a car and arrange accommodations. Or we can go to the London hotel.”

  “Let’s stay here,” Kendall said. “I want to explore the area.”

  “And I need a decent meal before I starve. It’ll take too long to get to London unless you bring in a helicopter.”

  “Then we’ll find a local hotel. I’m going to the well while we wait for the car,” Nathan said. “You get food and meet me back here.”

  “I don’t think we should leave you,” Kendall said. “We don’t know what might happen at the well.”

  “Go with Jake. It might be best if I go alone,” Nathan said.

  Kendall looked uncertain, but she left with Jake. Nathan watched them walk away. He touched his chest where she had laid her head while she slept beside him in the cave. That was the closest he’d been to her. He watched as Jake reached over and touched her arm. He wanted to call her back to go with him, but it was best that he go to the well alone. He didn’t know what to expect if it turned out to be the real fountain. Or what might happen if it wasn’t. He found a phone and called Fergus.

  “Where the devil are you?” Fergus asked. He sounded exasperated. “I’ve been trying to call you. The castle is in an uproar.”

  “We’re in England.”

  “England.” Nathan heard Fergus sniff. “You could have called, sir. People worry about you, you know?”

  “We didn’t plan to come to England. We… fell here. There’s some kind of portal in the maze at the castle.”

  “Are you drunk, sir?” Fergus asked.

  “You know I don’t drink. There’s a bloody portal in that maze at the castle. Kendall fell through it, and Jake and I did too when we went to find her.”

  “And you landed in England, sir?”

  “Glastonbury, England. I need you to find accommodations for us and have a car sent to the Chalice Well. Something that won’t draw attention, and have our luggage sent here.”

  “Are you OK?” Fergus sounded worried.

  He wouldn’t be OK until he got rid of this curse. “I’m fine.”

  “Do you have money?”

  “Jake does for now, but have some money sent to the hotel.” Nathan had more money than he knew what to do with, and now he was stuck without a dime to his name. He’d have to depend on Jake if he wanted to eat in the next hour.

  “I see,” Fergus said. “We’ll come and bring your things with us. We’re in Italy. We left as soon as they said the three of you had disappeared.”

  “We?”

  “Marco insisted on coming with me.”

  “He’s OK to travel?”

  “He’s doing remarkably well.”

  “How could you be in Italy? We’ve only been gone for a few hours.”

  Fergus was quiet for a moment. “Sir, you’ve been gone for well over a day.”

  “That’s impossible.” Nathan looked at his watch, forgetting that it had stopped. “It’s Tuesday.”

  “It’s Wednesday, sir. You vanished Monday night.”

  Nathan cursed. Somewhere along the way, they’d lost an entire day. “Fergus, don’t come here. Just send our things.” As much as Nathan wanted to talk to Marco face-to-face, he didn’t want to put either of the men at risk. He was worried about that shadow in the cave. He didn’t think it was Raphael. “Have you seen Raphael?”

  “No.”

  “Tell the guards to be alert. He’s going to be angry. Fergus, be careful.”

  “Don’t worry, I have a gun.”

  Bloody hell. “Don’t try to shoot him, Fergus.” Everyone was in enough danger without Fergus carrying a gun.

  Fergus hung up the phone and turned to Marco. “They’re alive.”

  The old man nodded. “They must stay alive. They’re in England. Where?”

  “Glastonbury.”

  “Very good.”

  “I think we should go. I believe it’s time to tell him the truth.”

  Marco stood. “Do we fly or take the maze?”

  Nathan held a brochure in front of him and studied the entrance to the Chalice Gardens. He’d found the brochure on the ground where someone had dropped it. He was going to drink from the fountain until he couldn’t drink any more. There was also a pool. He might just jump in it and roll around for good measure. The gardens had just opened, so they weren’t busy now. He didn’t have money, but it shouldn’t be too hard to sneak inside. He waited until the woman at the gate was distracted with a group and slipped through. The woman turned and called out, but he kept going. He hurried up the path and darted behind a tree.

  No one came after him, so he guessed he was safe. His mouth was dry as he followed the path to the fountain. Traditions varied on the actual source of the well, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to drink. If his dreams were right, this could be his cure.

  When he reached the fountain and saw a couple drinking, reality set in. If this was the Fountain of Youth, there should be millions of unnaturally youthful, cured people wandering the planet. Still, he rose and walked to the fountain. There was no one close by, but he could hear voices drawing near. He knelt on the stone and leaned over, putting his mouth under the stream of water flowing from the lion’s head. The water tasted unusual. It must be the iron. That was what tu
rned the water red. Some believed it was symbolic of Christ’s blood. Nathan drank until his stomach felt like it would burst. He heard a voice behind him.

  “Mom, he’s drinking it all. There won’t be any left for the rest of us.”

  “This well has been flowing for two thousand years, Art. Don’t worry, it’s not going to dry up now.”

  Nathan raised his head and looked at the boy. It was the redhead who had been throwing rocks.

  “Make him stop drinking. It’s my turn.”

  “He’s almost finished, see. There’ll be plenty of water for you.”

  Nathan started to move, but he caught sight of his hands gripping the stone and remembered knocking Kendall into the wall. He ducked his whole head underneath the flow, letting the cold water run down his neck and back.

  “He’s taking a bath in the fountain. Gross. Doesn’t he know there’s a pool?”

  Nathan stood and wiped the water off his face. The woman and boy gaped at him as he walked past.

  “See, it’s your turn now, Art. Go on, darling, take a drink.”

  “Can I stick my head in like he did?”

  “No, darling. Art. Be careful. Arthur, you’re leaning too far. Arthur!”

  Something nudged Nathan’s memory, but before he could figure it out, there was a howl followed by the woman’s cry. Nathan turned around and saw the boy’s legs in the air as the mother attempted to pull him out of the basin. Served the little monster right, Nathan thought. Monster. That was a sobering thought.

  He ignored the strange looks he got as he walked away and headed for the Vesica Piscis, where he found two circular pools intertwined. He dipped his head in these and then continued to the healing pool and walked down into the water. It was cold, but a couple of others were also wading. No one paid much attention until he sat down in the water and lay back, letting it wash over his head. Bloody hell, it was cold. He jumped up, shivering, and hurried away. He needed to find a place to dry off or he’d end up dying of exposure. He wouldn’t need a curse to finish him off.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KENDALL AND JAKE used the public restrooms and cleaned up the worst of the grime from the cave. While Jake waited for Kendall, he called Clint collect to check on things at the house.

  “No sign of any more intruders,” Clint said.

  Clint was a good buddy. They’d known each other for years and had worked together on and off. Clint would have been with him in Iraq, but he’d been finishing up a job in Africa. If Clint had been there, he would have died with the rest of the team.

  “You cool with hanging out at the house for a few more days?”

  There was a pause. “No problem. You have any trouble sleeping here?” Clint asked.

  “No.” He wasn’t home often to sleep. “Why? The neighbors being loud?” He couldn’t imagine that. They were all retired.

  “I keep waking up freezing cold.”

  “Did the temperature drop?” The weather had been mild for October when they left.

  “No. But it’s freezing in here at night.”

  “Turn up the heat.”

  “I did.” Clint hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You ever feel like someone’s watching you in here?”

  “Never noticed it, but I’m not there much. Why? You think someone’s got a camera inside?”

  “I was thinking more along the line of a ghost. Thought maybe your grandma was still hanging around.”

  Last week, he would have laughed if anyone had said something like that. Not now. “If she is, I’ve never seen her.”

  Clint dropped the subject and Jake hung up just as Kendall appeared. She still looked beautiful in spite of falling through the maze and into a haunted cave. “You fixed the tear in your pj’s?”

  “I found a safety pin in the bathroom.”

  “How’s your wrist?” Jake asked.

  She turned it over. There was a thin line where it had been cut. “Better. I cleaned it up.”

  “You need a bandage.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’ve lived with worse than this,” she said. “Where do we find someone who can exchange your money under the table?”

  “We’re not going to,” he said, looking across the street. “It’ll take too long. By the time we walk to town and back, the car will be here. Come on.” He took her hand and led her toward a gift shop.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Getting food.”

  “Without money? What are you going to do? Steal it? You’re going to steal it?”

  “Do you want to eat or not? It’s just borrowing. We’ll pay for it after we get money.”

  “I hope you have some shoplifting skills that I don’t.”

  “I do. We’re going inside that gift shop, and you’re going to distract the person running it.”

  “How? Hit them, cuss them out?”

  “Talk to them about the weather, or King Arthur.”

  Kendall opened the door and walked inside. The woman who worked in the shop was on the latter side of middle age and had a chunky, rectangular figure and gray hair caught up in a bun. “Excuse me. Could I ask a question?”

  The woman turned a friendly smile on Kendall. “Sure, dear. What’ll you be wanting to know?”

  “I’m visiting the abbey and wondered what you might be able to tell me about the area, and about King Arthur, if you have a moment.” From the corner of her eye, Kendall saw Jake easing toward a section with power bars and snacks.

  “Of course. I used to be a tour guide, you know, but the old legs don’t like so much walking at my age. We get scads of people coming here, everyone from history buffs to quacks. This was the site of the first Christian church in Britain. Joseph of Arimathea built it, him and Jesus when Jesus was just a boy. Joseph was Jesus’s great-uncle, and he was a metal trader who did business here. They say young Jesus sometimes came with him.

  “Anyway, the stories go that when Jesus was dying on the cross, Joseph took the cup from the Last Supper, the Holy Grail—oh, I get goose bumps just saying that—and he caught some of Jesus’s blood. So after Jesus died, supposedly Joseph comes back here with some other men. They came ashore at Wearyall Hill, yonder,” she said, pointing out one of the windows. “When Joseph put his staff in the ground, it took root. That became the Holy Thorn Tree. The one out there on Wearyall Hill was grown from the original tree that Joseph planted. It was vandalized in 2010. Black-hearted bastards.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  “The man who owned the property had some legal issues. Maybe the vandals didn’t like Christians. The town planted a new Holy Thorn, but it’s still a sad thing. Anyway, when Joseph buried the Holy Grail in the hillside a well sprang up. The Chalice Well. Of course there are others who say the well is older, something to do with mother earth and goddesses and all that. I guess it depends on what you believe.”

  “So there’s a lot of history here,” Kendall said, looking over the woman’s shoulder where Jake had moved on to a stack of clothing.

  “Scads. Saint Patrick lived here and died here. Most people think he was Irish, but he wasn’t. He was imprisoned in Ireland for a while. And then there was King Arthur. He and Guinevere were buried here. I’m sure you saw the site if you’ve been to the abbey.”

  Kendall shook her head no, but the woman continued on with her story. Kendall didn’t interrupt since Jake was deftly shoplifting sweatshirts and pants.

  “The graves were discovered back in the twelfth century. The abbey had burned down, and the monks needed money to rebuild. One of the monks had a dream about Arthur, and sure enough, when they started digging, there were Arthur and his queen buried sixteen feet down. Suddenly, people are flocking from all over to see where the great King Arthur was buried. And that brought money in. Later on, the bones were moved to a black marble tomb, but they disappeared when the abbey was closed.”

  The woman seemed to be winding down, but Jake was stuffing something into his boot, so Kendall asked ano
ther question to give him a little longer. “When did the abbey close?”

  “In the sixteenth century. King Henry the Eighth was getting worried about the power and the wealth of the abbey. He asked for the relics and treasure, but the monks wouldn’t give them up. The king accused the abbey of hiding them, so he closed them down. Richard Whiting, he was the last abbot. The king had him and two of his priors dragged up to the Tor, hanged, drawn and quartered. Lord, can you imagine? The abbey fell into ruins after that. The stones were carted off, and some of them were used to build houses and shops here.”

  Relics and treasure. That rang a familiar bell. “So the king got the treasure?”

  “Not all of it. The monks had hidden some of it underneath the Tor. Legend says there are tunnels and caves underneath. Some run underneath the abbey.”

  Under the Tor, Kendall thought, her blood pumping faster. She knew for certain that there was at least one cave underneath the Tor. “It’s such a magical place, isn’t it?”

  “Magical is a good word. There’s all kinds of stories about the place, not just King Arthur and Joseph. Fairies, ghosts, magical lights. Some people say Glastonbury is Avalon, you know, and that the Tor is the entrance to Annwyn. The lord of the underworld lived there. The lord of the fairies, and not them little cute ones with wings, but tall, beautiful ones who were powerful. They lure men in and when they come out, they’re raving lunatics and they’ve lost days, weeks, of their lives.”

  “Lost time?”

  “Time is different for fairies, if you believe such things.”

  “You really think Arthur was real?”

  “I say where there’s smoke there’s fire. There’s too much legend not to have some truth. If only the bones were still here, King Arthur’s and Guinevere’s, they might be able to prove it was him. The king probably stole them, or one of the monks. Maybe even one of Arthur’s knights. They say the ghost of a black knight haunts the abbey to keep people away.”

  “Why would he want to keep people away?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the treasure is still hidden there. Or Arthur’s bones. And the locals tell stories that the monks were more than monks, some secret group.”