Quest for the Secret Keeper

by Victoria Laurie

  The admiral’s eyes finally swiveled to him, and he gave one curt nod.

  The earl folded up the map and, waving it at Ian, urged him to step forward to the desk. “Here, lad,” he said gently. “Take your sketch of the tunnels and turn it into a map the admiral will find useful.”

  Ian nodded and attempted to take the map, but the earl held fast and looked Ian straight in the eye. “That section in the middle, however, the one with the old stairwell leading down to the tunnel within the woods?”

  Ian was startled that the earl had brought up the tunnel leading to the portal. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Do not include it in your map for the admiral, as it leads nowhere and I’m certain it is quite unstable. I wouldn’t want the soldiers to risk being trapped or killed in a cave-in.”

  “Ah,” said Ian with a nod. “Yes, my lord. I understand completely, and I shall leave it off the new map.”

  He then attempted to smile at the admiral, to show him there were no hard feelings, but the older man simply glowered at him as if he was yet unconvinced of his allegiance.

  Free to go, Ian would have fled the study straightaway; however, he remembered Madam Dimbleby. Clearing his throat, he asked, “My lord, can you tell me how the headmistress is?”

  The earl winced as if he’d been physically hurt, and instead of answering Ian, he looked up at the admiral, who crossed his arms and stared out the window without saying a word.

  Ian’s heart thumped in his chest as he imagined what no one would tell him—that Eva had been too late to save Madam. “No,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “Please tell me she hasn’t …!” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “She lives,” growled the admiral without turning to look at him.

  Ian’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank heavens,” he whispered. “May I see her?” he asked the earl.

  But his patriarch shook his head sadly, leaned across his desk, and said, “Lad, I’m afraid Maggie’s condition is most grave. She was taken back to the keep, where the naval surgeon did all he could for her, but the outlook is not good, I’m afraid. He doesn’t know if she’ll last the night.”

  Ian took the news like a blow to the chest, and it was all he could do to inhale a ragged breath. He placed a hand on the desk to support himself and it was a long time before he could speak. “Eva?” he asked meekly.

  The earl’s eyes darted to the admiral—who was still staring out the window—before looking back at him. “She is at Madam’s bedside. Perhaps you should go to your sister, who is also at the keep, and see if there has been any sign of improvement. I shall be along to check on you and the others after I’ve concluded a few additional affairs with the admiral.”

  Ian’s lower lip was trembling as the full weight of the news hit him. He couldn’t trust himself to speak another word, and he certainly couldn’t tell the earl about Argos with the admiral standing there, so he merely nodded and hurried from the room.

  GRIM NEWS

  With a bit of trouble, Ian managed to get back to his room at the top of the keep. He’d had to wind his way through the many cots set up in every available nook and cranny of the old structure—each waiting to receive an injured soldier.

  Only one room now held patients, and that was the schoolroom behind the castle, which had the largest open space to accommodate them. For now, many of the cots stood empty, but Ian had a feeling they wouldn’t be empty for long.

  He started his search in the schoolroom, his eyes going out of habit to the spot where his old desk used to sit. Madam Dimbleby was not in that room, although Ian searched the rows and faces of everyone there.

  He considered that after her surgery, she might have been moved to her own room, but when he went to the west end of the keep, he found that room empty.

  Ian would have pulled out his sundial to find his friends, but the keep was too crowded for him to do that discreetly. Instinctively, he trudged up the steps, past his old room, and down the hall to the doorway that led to the east tower.

  He turned the knob and pulled—but the door was stuck fast. This often happened, when the resident ghost of Delphi Keep—a cantankerous spirit who haunted the east tower almost exclusively—locked trespassers either in or out, depending on which side of the door they happened to be on.

  With a tired sigh Ian leaned his head against the wood paneling. “Please, ghost?” he said. “It’s been a right awful day, and I’d just like to find Carl and Theo.”

  There was a click and then the door pressed hard enough against Ian’s head that he stood back. With a loud creak it opened all the way. “Thank you,” he said, and hurried up the stairs. As he made his way up, he heard the door close behind him. Before he even crested the landing, he heard voices.

  “Who’s there?” asked one.

  “It’s me, Carl,” he said, hurrying up the last few steps.

  “Ian!” Theo shouted, jumping off the cot that served as Ian’s bed and hurrying to his side. Throwing her arms around him again, she asked, “You all right?”

  He nodded and gave a small smile to Jaaved and Carl, who were looking at him with concern. But he then realized who else was in the room and his mouth fell open a bit. “Good eve, Ian,” Argos said, nodding to him from Ian’s cot. He was now dressed in thin trousers and an old green shirt. Ian recognized the clothes as belonging to Landis, their groundskeeper.

  “I pinched ’em from the laundry downstairs,” Carl confessed.

  Argos scratched at the fabric. “How do you people wear such coverings?” he asked.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Carl assured him.

  “So all of you know?” Ian asked Jaaved and Theo. They both nodded. “Have you had a chance to tell the earl?” Ian asked Carl, wondering if the earl already knew but hadn’t wanted to let on in front of the admiral.

  “No. He’s been locked up in that room with Admiral Ramsey all afternoon,” Carl replied. “We were waiting to see if perhaps you’d had a chance to tell him.”

  Ian told them that he hadn’t, and then he explained why he’d been dragged off by the military police. He ended by telling them that he’d finally been let go to come see about Madam Dimbleby, and he noted their somber faces.

  “She’s been moved into the girls’ dormitory,” said Theo, her voice no louder than a whisper. “The doctor wanted her kept in a quiet place, away from the noise of the rest of the hospital. Madam Scargill is there along with Eva.” Ian felt his hopes lift a bit until Theo added, “She’s doing her very best to help Madam, but …”

  Theo’s voice trailed off and Ian’s chest tightened with fear. “But what?”

  “Eva doesn’t know if she has it in her to save Madam Dimbleby, Ian,” Carl said, his voice choked with emotion. “She’s so worn out from healing all the soldiers who’ve come through that she says there’s precious left for her to give to Madam.”

  Ian’s eyes darted to the floor and no one spoke for several minutes. Beside him, he could hear Theo sniffling, and he knew he should attempt to comfort her, but he was so upset by the prospect of losing the only mother figure he’d ever known that he found he could barely breathe.

  Theo must have sensed this, because she placed her hand in his and leaned against him, which sparked a question Ian had for her. “Theo?”

  “Yes?”

  Ian hesitated. The question he had to ask was a difficult one, and he wondered if he could even utter the words, but Theo’s vision from a few days before about a grave site prepared for their headmistress greatly distressed him. “Do you really see her passing?”

  He could feel the eyes of Carl and Jaaved on him, and he knew he’d asked the one question they couldn’t. Theo took a long time to answer him. “Sometimes, the future is not so certain, Ian,” she said softly. “On very rare occasions, my visions contain two outcomes, and I have no idea which will actually take place.”

  Ian understood that to mean that Theo had seen both Madam’s recovery and her passing, and the uncertain
ty only caused him further turmoil. He stood up then and moved to the window, opening it to allow the cool evening air to come in.

  In the distance he saw a bright yellow automobile turn off the road and begin to make its way down the gravel drive. Behind him Theo said, “The earl is coming.”

  “Should we go down to meet him?” Ian asked without turning around.

  “No,” said Theo. “He’ll come to us.”

  Theo was correct, because a short time later the door below opened, and up the stairs came the earl. He looked rather surprised to find them all seated quietly, and his expression was even more surprised when he took in Argos. “Good evening,” he said to the soldier. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of an introduction.”

  Ian and Carl both stood and began to tell the earl who the soldier was and, more importantly, where he’d come from.

  “The portal?” the earl said, blinking at the revelation. “So the prophecy has begun,” he said, sitting down heavily on a nearby stool.

  “It has,” Theo said definitively. “The first few lines of the prophecy clearly talk about Argos’s arrival.”

  The earl sighed. “It has been an eventful day,” he said, his eyes pinched and tired as he looked at a yellow bit of paper in his hand.

  Theo pointed to it and said, “Is there news, my lord?”

  The earl nodded dully. “Yes, although I’m afraid it’s some rather troubling news.”

  “About the war?” asked Carl.

  The earl closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then let the air out slowly before folding the paper back into a neat little square. “In a way, Carl,” he said. “I’ve received a telegram from my associates in British intelligence. As you know, I have been assisting with the intelligence gathering from my sources overseas. Some of my dear friends from abroad have been risking their lives to gather useful information through their connections in Berlin.

  “A fortnight ago, one of my associates traveled to Antwerp, attempting to sway the Belgium forces loyal to King Leopold to give up their vow of neutrality and declare war against the Germans—”

  “But Belgium is all but lost!” Ian exclaimed, interrupting the earl. Rumors abounded that King Leopold was about to declare a surrender to the Germans, and most of the soldiers flooding their port the past few days were from Belgium. In fact, nearly all the injured in the schoolroom below had fought along the Belgium-France border.

  The earl regarded Ian soberly. “Yes, Ian, and my associates at British intelligence suggest that King Leopold will declare his surrender the day after tomorrow.”

  “But what about your friend?” Jaaved asked.

  Ian glanced at him and noticed the worry creasing the young Moroccan’s face. Theo stared intently at the floor for a moment before letting out a small gasp, and immediately she began to cry. “Monsieur Lafitte!” she whispered, and covered her face with her hands.

  Ian hardly knew what to do. He didn’t know what Monsieur Lafitte had to do with this tale … and then it struck him like another blow to the chest. He looked up at the earl and asked, “Your friend in Antwerp. It’s Monsieur Lafitte?”

  The earl nodded gravely. “Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid so.”

  Carl pointed to the yellow telegram still clutched in the earl’s hand. “But you’ve had word from him, right, my lord? He’s hiding somewhere, I’d wager, and he wanted you to know he’s safe. Is that right?”

  The earl considered the folded piece of paper in his hand. “No, Carl, I’m afraid not. This telegram was sent by Leopold’s most trusted aide, a man named Antoine, who traveled with Monsieur Lafitte to Belgium. Antoine has escaped the German guard by way of a fishing vessel, which took him to Norway. He was able to wire me from there. My dear friend Leo was betrayed by the very men he hoped to trust in the Belgium royal court, and was turned over as an Ally spy to the Germans three days past.”

  Ian gasped. Monsieur Lafitte had shown them all considerable kindness a year before, and his daughter, Océanne, was someone Ian had great affection for.

  “What do you think’s happened to him?” Carl asked, clearly shaken by the news.

  Theo began to cry in earnest, and Argos got up to go sit next to her and hold her hand. Ian gave the soldier a grateful smile and turned his attention back to the earl, whose distress was etched into every line on his distraught face. “I’m afraid I have no way of knowing,” the earl said somberly. “But the Germans are not known for their leniency or mercy when it comes to suspected spies.”

  “But Monsieur Lafitte will surely talk his way out of it,” Carl insisted.

  The earl got up and moved to look out the window. “It is a very bad sign that Leo has not been heard from in several days,” he said. “Antoine believes my dear friend is already dead.”

  Ian couldn’t process that. Monsieur Lafitte had been a jolly, affable fellow. How could he be gone?

  “And if it is the case that it is too late to save my friend,” the earl added, his voice hoarse with emotion, “then Madame Lafitte and Océanne are in very grave danger indeed.”

  “Were they with Monsieur in Belgium?” Ian asked, his heart pounding with renewed fear.

  The earl turned from the window and looked again to the telegram. “No,” he said, and Ian felt a flicker of relief. “Leo had moved them to a secret location in Paris. He told me that he would send word to me of their location should he suspect he might be discovered by the Germans and the worst happen, but that telegram has not arrived. I know that Leo would have sent it if he could, and I can only imagine that if he did send word of their location it was intercepted by the Germans and they may very well know exactly where to find Madame and Océanne.”

  “But France is still holding the line!” Carl exclaimed, his own emotions getting the best of him. “They’ll be safe in Paris as long as the Allies keep the Germans at the Belgium border.”

  The earl turned back to the window, which had a beautiful view of the sea. It was growing dark outside, but Ian thought the earl might still be able to see the ships coming one by one into the port.

  “The Allies are pulling out of France,” the earl said. There’d been no formal announcement yet, but the massive gathering of their troops on Dover’s shores told them of the certainty that Churchill had ordered them to return to England. “It’s only a matter of time before all of France falls.”

  Carl was on his feet now, pacing back and forth in near panic. “We’ve got to find them!” he said. “My lord, we’ve got to get to Paris and rescue Madame and Océanne!”

  The earl turned back to look at Carl and there was such sadness in his eyes that Ian had to look away. “It’s impossible, Carl,” the earl said. “We’ve no way of locating Madame Lafitte and her daughter, and France is far too dangerous a place for us to linger while we look.”

  All of a sudden Theo lifted her tearstained face to meet Ian’s eyes. He knew immediately that she was thinking the same thing he was. “The prophecy,” she mouthed.

  Ian fished it out of his pocket and hurried over to the earl. “My lord,” he said in a rush. “I believe we must go in search of Madame and Océanne! And I believe that Argos’s appearance signifies that very thing!”

  Ian pointed to the second set of verses within the prophecy, even reciting them aloud to prove his point.

  “ ‘With his coming, time is near; travel soon to save your dear. One with name of open water, perfect tribute to her father. He will join another realm, as duty calls you to the helm. Cross the water, save two souls, learn from me within these scrolls.’ ”

  “Ian’s right,” Theo said. “My lord, we must go in search of Océanne and Madame Lafitte!”

  Before answering, the earl lifted the paper containing the translated prophecy from Ian’s hands and read it for himself. He paused only once, to look up at Argos, still seated next to Theo, holding her hand and trying to take it all in.

  Finally, the earl passed the prophecy back to Ian and crossed his arms over his chest. “It will be a ve
ry harrowing journey,” he told them. “The admiral has instructed all commercial and luxury vessels not to leave port, as there have been a few German U-boat sightings of late.”

  “We’ll have to risk it,” Ian said firmly. “My lord, we cannot leave the Lafittes to the Germans!”

  The earl nodded. “I agree, Ian. Especially not as it now appears to be critical to fulfilling Laodamia’s prophecy.” He then eyed Argos again uncertainly. “And what of our guest?” he asked.

  Theo answered right away. “He must come,” she said firmly. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be in the prophecy above the rescue of the Lafittes. He must have some purpose to fulfill with us in France.”

  The earl addressed his next question to Argos. “Will you journey with us across the water, my good man?”

  “Of course,” Argos said easily. “I’m perfectly comfortable on the water.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Ian said. “Shall we leave in the morning?”

  The earl pulled at his beard. “There are many details to work out first, Ian. And supplies to be gathered.” Ian looked at his patriarch expectantly. “And I gather by that look on your face, my good young man, that you expect to work out much of that this evening?”

  “No time like the present,” Ian replied with a grateful smile.

  The earl grunted. “Very well. Why don’t you four and our dear guest, Mr.… er … Argos, accompany me back to Castle Dover and we can at the very least get him some clothing that fits him a bit better, hmmm?”

  THE WITCH’S DILEMMA

  An alley in the city of Versailles, France, the same day.

  A haggard-looking woman dressed in little more than rags shuffled quickly down the smelly cobblestones to her flat. In her gnarled hand she clutched a train ticket, and she cursed herself anew while she hurried along, anxious to pack and be on her way. The ticket had come at a dreadfully high price and had used up almost all her savings, but she’d not argued with the collector, lest he would deny her the passage she so desperately needed.