Carrier 02: Shadow of the Mark (11 page)

“Leave your dad to me.”

“But—”

“Just go. I’ll cover for you.”

I looked at her for another few moments, suddenly realizing I didn’t know her at all.

“Go!” she said, ushering me out the door.

We bought our tickets and ran to the departure gate. Luckily, 5:15 a.m. on Easter Sunday was not prime traveling time, and the only sound was the gentle hum of a janitor polishing the floor two gates down. As we approached, Rían looked up and smiled sadly, glancing at our bags. “I guess you’re not here to stop me.”

“Would we be able to if we wanted?” Adam asked with a wry grin.

Rían ran a finger over his eye, which was now turning blackish blue. “Yesterday I’d have said no to that question, but today I’m not so sure.”

Adam threw his bag down beside Rían. “It’s just as well we’re not here to stop you, then.”

“Thanks, bro,” Rían said, glancing up at me warily.

I gave him a wide berth and sat down across from them. Had Adam given him the black eye?

Áine tackle hugged him. “Of course we’re going with you. Do you think we’d let you do this alone?”

After a very long wait in Heathrow for a connection, we finally boarded a flight to Gothenburg. By the time we took off, the lack of sleep caught up with us. I was just dozing off when Rían tapped my shoulder and leaned forward to talk to me around the side of the seat. “Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”

I looked over uneasily at Adam, but he was sleeping peacefully. “I’m so sorry about your eye.”

“I had it coming.” Rían put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m a total shit of a brother.” His face darkened as he looked down at his hands. “This is a strange thing going on between you and me. It’s not, you know, the real deal. It’s missing something, right? Sort of like lusting after a Big Mac when there’s a big, juicy piece of steak on the plate beside it.”

I threw my hands to my mouth and tried to muffle my laughter. “Yes, that’s exactly it! I’m the Big Mac, and Chloe’s the juicy steak, right?”

His eyes crinkled and he flushed a little. “Not that I’m comparing you to a Big Mac.”

“Rían, being compared to a Big Mac is the least of my worries.”

His eyes dropped. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“What?”

“That list you mentioned a while back, the one with the names on it. Did you find out anything more about it?”

“No. Do you know something?”

He shrugged. “Not the list but maybe the names. When I was up in Dublin working with Hugh, he was researching some sort of time line, and those names were on it.”

My mouth was suddenly dry. “Mine too?”

“No. If I’d seen your name, I’d have said something to you. Look, Hugh asked me to help him out but swore me to secrecy, because the Council didn’t sanction his research. I didn’t think anything of it until you mentioned those names.”

“Do you think Hugh planted the list?”

“No. I asked him and he flipped out. He wanted to tell you about it himself this weekend, but that obviously didn’t happen. It must be something important.”

“So did Fionn know about Sigrid when I asked him?”

“No, Fionn doesn’t know anything. At least I don’t think he does. I’m sorry I kept it from you, but I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. I was sort of flattered to be asked to help. Stupid, really. I guess I’m pretty gullible. Chloe must have seen it a mile away.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. We were all fooled by her.”

“Some more so than others,” Rían muttered, settling back into his seat.

I nodded in agreement and closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep. There was something bothering me. Chloe had covered her tracks so well for nearly two months, and if the Knights’ reputation was to be believed, we should never have discovered them. So how had we managed to figure it all out now?

W
e walked out of the Gothenburg airport into arctic conditions. Nothing I’d shoved into my bag last night was even remotely appropriate for this weather. “Holy crap,” I stuttered.

“I’m driving,” Rían said, climbing into the driver’s seat of our rental car and tapping a location into the GPS.

“Where did you get that address?” Adam asked, sliding into the backseat beside me.

Rían stopped entering the details. “Let’s just say the Knights aren’t that tight-lipped when it comes to fire.”

“You didn’t!” Adam said.

“Ah, he’s all right, but it might be a good time to ring Fionn and let him know we’re okay, and that there’s a Knight in Chloe’s bathtub in need of assistance.”

“Shit.” Adam shook his head and picked up his phone.

After a very one-sided conversation that had him holding the phone away from his ear, Adam hung up. “Yeah, I guess you could say we’re in trouble.”

My own phone hadn’t rung yet, so I was assuming that whatever Petra had told Dad was doing the trick, but because she hadn’t told me what the excuse was, I couldn’t even check in with him. I suddenly wished I had Petra’s phone number.

“So what’s the story with . . . Orust?” Adam said, leaning forward and reading the destination from the GPS.

“I’m not sure. Our Knight friend wasn’t
that
talkative.” Rían turned onto the highway and accelerated. “I just know it’s an island, and it’s joined to the mainland by a bridge.”

We sat quietly for the remainder of the journey. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the landscape. Even though it was April, everything was still covered in snow, and the road cut through endless forests with trees adorned in dripping icicles. Too bad we weren’t in the mood for sightseeing. Adam leaned back into the seat and pulled me toward him. He wrapped his big hand around mine reassuringly. I felt a warm glow encase my heart. Adam was my juicy steak, and nothing would ever change that. I laughed a little to myself.

Adam looked down at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking of food.”

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I am now,” I said, snuggling into his side.

Rían finally turned onto the bridge that would take us to our destination. The setting sun was a massive red blob, slowly sinking down like molten rock disappearing into the sea. The remaining light cast a rosy glow over the pretty fishing village and trickled down onto the rocks.

As soon as we hit the island, the GPS started telling us to go down roads that didn’t exist, and was constantly “recalculating.” Finally Rían silenced the irritating voice and pulled up to a café, where two men were talking outside with each other. He rolled down the window, stuck his head into the icy air, and asked them how to get to Räv Ihåliga. They spoke in Swedish among themselves for a moment before turning back and peering in at us. Then in American-accented perfect English, they directed us up the hill through the forests to the other side of the island. The road was narrow and banked by snow, and the land got more wooded until Rían pulled up outside a set of unassuming gates with stone pillars and a wall that snaked its way through the trees.

He turned to face me. “Adam tells me you’re a dab hand at picking locks these days. Want to try your hand at that sucker?” He pointed to the huge chain and rusty lock.

“Sure,” I answered, opening the door and stepping into the bitter cold. I picked up the lock and then stopped when I noticed it was already open. I shrugged and unwrapped the chain from the gate. I stretched out my arms and pushed the gates before quickly returning to the car.

We drove up a long, meandering driveway and finally arrived at a big house in a clearing. There was no sign of any cars or people.

“Are you sure you have the right address?” Adam asked Rían as we got out of the car.

“Räv Ihåliga,” he said, reading a piece of paper in his hand. “This is definitely it.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s much of a gathering going on here,” Adam said, taking my hand. “Come on, let’s check out the house.”

“Wait for me,” Áine said nervously, catching up with us and putting her arm through Adam’s. “This place gives me the creeps.”

An unearthly screech came from the trees. The sound sent shivers down my spine, and I gripped Adam tightly. “Was that someone screaming?”

“Foxes,” Rían said, walking past us toward the front of the house. “Räv Ihåliga means ‘Fox Hollow.’ I’m guessing the property was named after its inhabitants.”

“And you know this, how?” Adam asked.

“There’s this thing called Google. You should try it sometime. Now come on. They won’t bother us if we don’t bother them.”

The house, built mainly of timber, was surrounded on all sides by trees. The darkness shrouded its color, but the white window frames gleamed in the moonlight. Rían paced back and forth, peering inside and becoming more agitated as the realization dawned on him that we had hit a dead end. The sun had long since set, and the woods were growing more sinister with every passing minute. I tucked myself behind Adam, who was staring at his brother with concern.

“Rían, I know it’s frustrating, but they’re not here. Let’s call Fionn and see if he can get any more information from the Dublin Order.”

“They have to be here,” Rían said stubbornly.

Adam threw his hands in the air and sighed, creating a cloud of steam in the cold air. Then Áine caught my eye. She was standing still, staring off into space.

“Áine, are you all right?” I moved into her line of sight, but her vision was elsewhere.

“They
are
here. I can see them. They’re in a cavern or something, and the walls are dark and damp. It’s lit with candles, and there are foxes. Lots of foxes.”

“Can you see how to get in?” Adam asked, almost hypnotically as if he didn’t want to risk breaking the connection to her earth sight.

She turned slightly, right and left, gazing at whatever she was seeing. “There are steps cut into the stone leading up the cave walls. They’re curling up. I can’t see beyond that. . . .” She sniffed at the air. “It smells . . . salty, like seaweed.”

“They’re in the cliffs, I bet. This house backs down to the water; I saw it on the GPS. Come on.” Rían turned and ran.

“Wait,” Áine called out.

But Rían was gone. Áine snapped out of her earth sight and took off after him. Adam and I followed, but I struggled to keep up, losing my footing in the deep snow. Adam gestured with his hands and the path cleared, the heavy, wet snow pliable under his hands.

“Thanks,” I said, lacing my fingers through his as we ran after the others. When we got to the end of the yard, it dropped sharply toward the sea. Rían was already halfway down. Áine frantically tried to catch up with him.

I put my arms around Adam, and a flutter of excitement built up in me at the delectable feelings I was about to experience. “I think we should take the easy way.” We stepped off the edge and into the comfort of the delicate tendrils of air that curled around us. Slowly we glided down the cliffside, and stepped onto a ledge that was sticking out over the water below, just in front of Rían.

He looked at me wide-eyed. “How the hell did you do that?”

“Forget about that for now. Áine is trying to tell you something.”

Áine came huffing and puffing down the rock edge, gasping great clouds of steam in her exertion. “Thanks a lot, Meg. Next time, will you include me in your magical elevator?” She glared at me with her hands on her hips. “Rían, what you didn’t wait around to hear is that they have guards.”

“We can deal with them,” Rían said offhand.

“They’re not human guards; they’re foxes, all around the place. This is a job for me. I won’t have you going in there and decimating the entire population of Orust foxes. I’ll have a little chat with them. Then you’re free to do what you want with the Knights, okay?”

“Okay,” Rían muttered, backing down.

“Any chance of that lift now?” Áine said pointedly at me.

“I could try, but I’ve never done it with more than one person, so don’t blame me if this ends in disaster.”

“Fine, fine, just hurry up. I’m freezing, and my hair is beginning to frizz.”

Squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep breath, I grabbed Áine. Rían and Adam wrapped their arms around us, and we stepped off the edge. Trying desperately to ignore the hum of their element power around me, I focused on the feeling of flight. It was amazing and just as easy as the first time. I felt the air reach out around us, like an extension of my own arms, surrounding each of them in a cushion and guiding them down gently to safety.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” I said, landing on a large rock by a little jetty. A few yachts were anchored offshore, barely visible against the black night sky.

“I’m guessing this is what we’re looking for.” Adam pointed up to an arched door molded into the rock. “We could do with some light.”

“Allow me,” Rían said as flames ignited in his hands. His eyes glowed eerier than normal in the dark, rugged setting. He held out his hand to illuminate the door. “Megan?”

Ignoring the urge to touch him, I moved forward, holding my hand out over the lock. Áine stepped in front of me.

“All right, guys, remember,” Áine instructed, taking a deep breath. “Leave the foxes to me—just keep an eye on everything else.”

“Ready?” I asked her.

She nodded. I flicked my hand, and the heavy door swung open. Áine stepped into the cave, followed closely by the rest of us. Rían’s eyes glowed bright and angry. Adam stood with his arms outstretched and at the ready. My feet left the ground, leaving me hovering slightly between Rían and Adam. We edged forward, waiting for Áine’s signal. Then the dark cave opened into a huge room like a subterranean cathedral. The stone walls glowed with a soft yellow-orange light.

“Welcome,” a loud voice reverberated around the cavern walls.

W
e stared into the cavern below us. About forty Knights lined the walls, their vivid blue gowns contrasting with the gray stone and the red of the foxes. A man in the center held out his hands to us.