“Was it like a noose? A collar?”
I smirked at him. “It was a chain-link leash attached to a solid metal collar. I don’t know what else to call it. Is that a colorful enough description?”
He gently knocked at my knee with his foot. “Smartass. It’s just…” He frowned. “We’re out here working in the stables. All morning we’ve carried ropes and bridles and saddles. Harnesses.”
“Yeah?”
“They keep horses here.” He gestured at the cliff nearby. “And there are other buildings that are meant to hold animals. If the longma was captured and restrained, is it crazy to think it might be close by? Around other animals that are secured and restrained? Or that it was near here?”
A spark of hope lifted the heaviness in my chest. Could the longma be nearby? Yes. Flynn was on to something. He had to be. “I like the way you think.”
He winked. “Then you’ll like the way I plan too. How about tomorrow we bring our own lunches and really check out this place during break?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
Chapter Three
The next morning, Flynn and I entered Marcy’s waiting truck. We each had a brown bag of whatever I found in the vending machines. Cafeteria food might have held, but it wasn’t like the options were varied. The menus were minimal with only some summer faculty to cook for. Besides, I doubted we’d be sitting down long enough to actually consume anything. The excitement of searching for my longma killed my appetite anyway.
“How are you guys holding up?” Marcy asked as she began the drive.
“Sore, but alive.” Flynn stretched his arms out as he replied.
“Ditto,” I said.
“Good, because Otis went easy on ya yesterday.”
I deadpanned out the windshield. What else could he make us do?
When we arrived, Otis gimped his massive body out from the stables. His greeting was short, charming, and sincere, and we were immediately set to a variety of tasks. Marcy hadn’t been lying. Our first day had been manageable, but today? Sweat constantly blurred my vision and my breaths were never fast enough.
“I’m not calling him a slave-driver,” Flynn began as we headed toward Marcy’s parked truck for our lunches around noon, “but…” He whooshed out a harsh exhale.
“My thoughts exactly.”
Otis always said please, and asked us to do things instead of ordering us around like serfs. He gave us short water breaks as often as we needed and even pitched in with the labor at times. So, not a slave-driver, but a merciless man who supremely disliked being idle. I’d admire his work ethics if it weren’t so hard on my back. Or maybe I’d appreciate his drive once the blisters on my palms gave way to calluses.
“I thought we might be able to get away along the trees over there.”
I followed his brief point in the direction of some evergreens standing tall and mighty before grass gave way to dirt then rocks. They bordered a faint path that led away from Otis and the stables, in the opposite direction of the greenhouse we assumed Marcy to be in. The way Flynn aimed would take us toward the shadier walls of the cliff.
“Bet we could eat as we walk, too.”
He nodded and grabbed both our lunches when we got to the truck. After he handed me mine, he led the way.
By the smells of burned popcorn and nuked hot dogs, I assumed Otis took his lunch inside the stables. During our tour of the building, we’d crossed a small office-kind of space. He was probably in there, and Marcy even further away in the greenhouse.
As Flynn and I trekked into the cooler, pine-scented start of the woods, all the smells of manure and leather remained near the horses. Even though I shivered at a sudden case of the chills, I appreciated the drop in temperature as we scouted out this path.
“I don’t see anyone around,” I commented in a whisper at Flynn’s side. I clutched my brown bag—food untouched—in my hand. Excitement and apprehension scared away any trace of hunger I’d worked up all morning.
“Don’t jinx it.” Flynn continued his fast stride and surveyed the wooded terrain.
I hid a smirk, turning away from him for a second. Jinx it? Was he superstitious? What a waste of creativity.
When I turned back to face forward, I narrowed my eyes at a just noticeably darker corner in the rocks. Dark, rugged stone rose up and up as the cliff formed a natural wall—so inviting as the sun’s reach hadn’t made it here. Yet right there, toward the east, it was even darker.
I tugged on Flynn’s sweat-damp sleeve and jerked my chin in the direction. “Over there.”
He cast a glance around and behind us as we closed in on what looked like a narrow cave opening in the cliffside.
A door. An opening. Some kind of portal to take us somewhere we weren’t supposed to be. My heart ticked up in speed with my footsteps. Hope fueled my pace, not fear.
My longma could be in there.
This might be an entrance to the Menagerie.
Could. Might. Hope. I’m getting my hopes up too damn high.
“Wait.” Flynn paused feet from the door and held his hand up. Cocking his ear toward the opening, he frowned and listened, his gaze zeroing in on the ground.
He wanted to go first? Fine by me. But if there were some ancient creatures in there, I would be the one to…to…disable them?
I shot a look back toward the stables we’d been working in. Red shingles caught bright sunlight and the metal bars of the fencing glinted. We actually weren’t that far away from them. Shaded and hidden a little by the trees, but if Otis were to exit the stables and look for us by Marcy’s truck…
“Come on.” I gently prodded Flynn at his side. “Now or never.”
He grunted something like a protest as I strode right past him into the dark.
If I thought it was pleasantly chillier on our tree-covered walk over here, it was cold now. Inside the clearly cut-out entryway, we stepped into obsidian iciness. Given it was damned dark in here, with no lights, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
I blindly headed in, rushing my eyes to adjust to the blackness. A few feet in, Flynn huffed and I felt his fingers grip the back of my shirt. Well, yeah. Good idea. It’d probably be way too easy to get lost or separated in this unlit void.
Feeling the way with my hand, I walked further in. Smooth, cold stone spread along the wall, and before I could suffer the beginning of a panic attack—pacing into a hole of nothingness, it seemed—a faint glimmer showed ahead.
A lantern? Sconce? Candle? Whatever it was, it was brighter than the inkiness.
I turned back to Flynn. Bright sunlight didn’t gleam from behind us. We must have taken a turn.
Flynn came to my side and let go of my shirt once we neared the light source. As we approached the faint, greenish glow, I tilted my head to study it. Encased in a glass jug, the light was secured to the stone wall. No bulb shone. Not a wire or flame in sight—
“Is that…” Flynn stepped closer with me.
“Moss?” I squinted as I leaned over to peer at the velvety soft sphere. It glowed in the dark, leaving its tiny bumps bright and clear for us to examine it.
“Yes, it is.”
I jumped at the low, deep voice that answered from the darkness. Flynn shot his arm out as though to block me from the direction of whoever had spoken.
A flashlight clicked on and I blinked at the increased illumination. More lights flickered on as a hallway of sorts was revealed. Still stone walls, but a clear corridor within the cliff. Into the cliff.
“Who the hell are you?” the man asked.
He didn’t blind us by pointing the flashlight in our direction, but he raised the muscular arm holding his device, showering us with more light as LED spots flickered on along the walkway. With the dimness still fading, his angled face was caught in shadows, hiding a tanned, bearded face. Under long brown hair, his eyes were shielded from us. Maybe too much so, because he jerked his head to toss some of it clear from his vision. For as deep and rough of a voic
e, he had to be older than us, or just a chain-smoker. In beige clothes and jeans—similar to Otis—he waited for a reply.
Impatiently waited. “I said, who are you?”
Actually… “You asked who the hell are we.”
His narrowed glare focused on me then, instead of his roving once over, sizing up Flynn.
Flynn stepped closer, wedging himself between me and this stranger.
All right. Technicalities. Maybe another time, Layla.
“We’re students,” Flynn answered.
The guy gave half of a nod.
Ah. It wasn’t enough. “We’re working for Otis. In the stables.” At least I didn’t stammer.
He scoffed. “In here?”
“No. We were just walking around on our lunch break and saw—”
“Nothing. Nothing you need to see, anyway.” He lowered his flashlight as more and more indicator lights buzzed brighter along the bottom of the hallway space. “And I suggest you walk around on back to Otis. Now.”
I gulped at the gravelly or else in his final word.
Caught. We’d been caught snooping red-handed. I cringed, though, because heck, we’d gotten nothing. No answers. Fear of discipline didn’t enter my mind. Only crushing, annoying disappointment.
Damn. It.
Flynn backed up, forcing me to retreat too. His stance and gait were calm, so maybe he’d swallowed this setback faster than I could. “Okay. We’re going.” Perhaps he was simply smoother at adapting to a change in plans. I sure wasn’t. I still wanted—needed—to know. Could this man be hiding my captured longma? Who was he to tell me what I needed to see? Why—
At a more forceful pull on my shirt, I backpedaled with Flynn. I kind of had to with him tugging me away. Still, I watched the shadowy tall guy cross his arms, his flashlight like a lazy light saber to his booted feet.
“And don’t plan on coming back. The Menagerie isn’t a smart place to trespass.”
The Menagerie! We found it!
“No worries. We got it,” Flynn called back as we moved toward the exit.
“The menagerie,” I mumbled under my breath. The longma. Maybe it was in here, further into the darkness past this scruffy jerk who guarded this blacked-out entrance.
“Let’s go,” Flynn whispered at my side.
I scowled and surrendered my stare on the man back there.
“Layla, come on.” Flynn hurried as we left the darkness, stumbling into the brightness outside. Even with the trees sheltering this area of the cliff wall, it was a drastic overkill of sunshine compared to the lightless corridor.
No, not lightless. Glow-in-the-dark moss? Mr. Alwin sure hadn’t mentioned that in Botany last year.
“Damn it,” I grumbled as we stepped out from the cave door.
And right into Marcy.
Flynn had managed to stumble to a stop before crashing into her. I wasn’t so lucky. I tripped over my feet as soon as I realized she was standing there. Arms crossed, unhappy smirk on her lips. Instead of plowing into her, I was redirected to the side, tumbling into Flynn, all the way to the ground.
Once we’d wrestled out of our fall together, we stood. I knocked dirt out of my ponytail and Flynn pulled down his shirt that had ridden up. I took Flynn’s lead and stood there, mute. He could talk us out of this one. Already, a furious blush stole up my neck and across my cheeks. Funny, I hadn’t been embarrassed or nerve-wracked being caught snooping in that black hallway, stopped by a curt stranger. But Marcy? I didn’t want her to think badly of me. Or get suspicious.
“Kinda wondered why you guys left your water bottles in the truck when you took your lunches.”
So, I need to work on this stealth crap…
“Oops.”
I sneered at Flynn’s reply. Oops? That was all he could come up with? An admission of guilt?
However, Marcy’s smirk began to twist into a smile. “Yeah, oops.”
Flynn shrugged and avoided meeting her gaze. Oh, my God. Is he trying to charm his way out of this?
She glanced at both of us before leaning around Flynn, making it obvious she was looking at the doorway we’d just exited from. “Thought you’d take a stroll?”
I sighed and didn’t wait for Flynn to answer with another charmingly sheepish confession. “We were just walking around. It’s cooler back here.”
She huffed. “I’ll give you that.”
I set my lips in a line at her smug sarcasm. “And we found a cave that led to…”
“To?” She canted her head to the side, waiting.
Well, hell. We’d found a secret entrance to the Menagerie. Disappointment coursed through me again, simmering an angry heat of boiled high hopes in my chest. “To nothing. We ran into this…” I rolled my hand, searching for a word. A man. A worker? He’d been dressed like a ranch hand. A jerk? His attitude made that clear—
“Wolf.” Marcy nodded.
“Wolf?” Flynn shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
Was she assuming there’d be a canine-type of guard at the entrance? Because they used dogs and hybrid doggish creatures for surveillance at the dorms?
“No. Wolf. The punk who works in there.” Marcy uncrossed her arms. “Sounds like Marlboro man? Six-fiveish? Needs a haircut?”
Ah.
“His name’s Wolf,” she explained. “I suggest you don’t cross his path again, all right?” With a solemn, careful gaze, she made eye contact with both of us.
Caught. Disciplined. And warned.
“Am I clear?”
“Yes,” Flynn and I answered in unison.
Chapter Four
After Flynn and I were caught trying to sneak into the Menagerie, we were separated. No reasons were given, but Marcy decided that Flynn would be a better fit with her in the greenhouse for the remainder of the weeks before school resumed. I was left with Otis in the stables. I got to at least stop in and see the aging stone behemoth of a building, but there wasn’t much of interest. Plants, pots, dirt, more plants… Although there was a room strictly for butterflies. It was surreal, and literally unreal. Horned butterflies of psychedelic colors mingled with the typical Monarchs and Karners. These ancient butterflies also glowed with light. Cool, but nothing as interesting as my longma.
Even though we were theoretically allowed to hang out in our free time, there simply wasn’t any. No lazy dog-days of summer. Day in and day out, we were exhausted at the farm operations. I had no clue what Marcy had Flynn doing in that windowed building of plants. Yet, each day when we were driven back to the dorms, his skin was just as stinky, dirt-caked, and sweaty as mine was, and his limbs had to be just as limp and leaden as well. Every day, we piled in, swallowed our groans of exhaustion, and claimed the desire for sleep. He’d started running with me in the mornings at the end of freshman year, but he hadn’t expressed a commitment to cardio over break. I could almost understand.
However, we didn’t plan to snoop again, and we couldn’t have, anyway.
“That ain’t the place to get nosy,” Otis had warned me the morning after Flynn and I were caught.
I’d made a blatant look around the horse-less stables. “Here?”
He jutted his chin toward the cliff. “Wolf’s space.” With a shake of his head, he coughed a single laugh. “Best you stay away from him. He can be…protective of his space.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. But still, it was an aggravating lesson. Stay out of the Menagerie when I’d always had such a connection to animals—and ancient, restricted species? Sounded like a pathetic joke. However, I refused to tell Otis, Marcy, or anyone other than Flynn that I could not only see those creatures but also that I could command them. Ethel was the resident historian of the Academy. If she—as someone thoroughly aware of the machination and motives of this place—saw the need to warn me against speaking of the longma, I had to take her word.
Being exiled to work with Otis wasn’t a hardship, though. Well, the work was hard. He kept me hopping, but in a productive, energetic way
. Over that summer break, my physique was toned—okay, muscles other than the ones in my legs, from running, of course. My skin lost its completely pale whiteness. Even my hair caught the sunshine and lightened up. Not only did I notice an increase of strength in my upper body, but I was filling in a little more as well. Nothing like a Sabine-worthy status, but I didn’t feel so childish about my appearance.
It’d become most obvious when Otis finally permitted me to work with the horses. Equestrian Care 101. Horses took to me, or, well, I guessed Otis assumed I took to them naturally. Why wouldn’t I get along with them, when they acquiesced to my simple thoughts? No different than with the dogs and cats at Coltin’s animal shelter, I bonded with the horses effortlessly. Those sweet, strong, majestic animals of so much power and loyalty.
Learning how to ride, though… Yep. That’ll wake up a girl and send her shopping online for sturdier bras.
As we neared the end of break and grew closer to the start of school, loneliness snuck in. Flynn was with Marcy or too tired to hang out. Otis was a kind old man, but he wasn’t much for chatting. Paige emailed with me every day, but cyber correspondence just wasn’t the same. Sabine, according to Dad’s emails, was still severely supervised by and boarding with Bernie as she prepared for the final exams of summer school. Even though I had the comfort of being with the horses, I was still…lonely.
Funny, I wanted someone to hang out with. Not only that, I was heartbroken to still be parted from my true buddy. My savior. I’d never even gotten a chance to tell it thank you, and whenever I’d think back to my and Flynn’s attempt to find it, my mood soured at the obstacle of Wolf guarding the Menagerie. The need to try harder and truly seek out the longma burned me, but I was limited on break. Never minding Otis’s warning, I was wise enough not to try to get past Wolf on my own. And that was assuming the creature really was back there, or in there.
Paige and Ethel were expected to return from vacation the day before classes would start, and I eagerly looked forward to their arrival. Marcy had explained that Flynn and I would be free from our work credit obligations by then, so we’d have a chance for some peace before needing to move to the sophomore residences and get ready for classes.
Discovery: Olde Earth Academy: Year Two Page 3