Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2) (36 page)

I shook my head. “You can’t go back in time. I don’t believe it.”

Morven stared at the boy. “Listen to me,” he said. “I know it’s hard to understand. But you haven’t seen a house made from brick, or even stone, have you? There are no roads, no railways, no fences, no power lines. You haven’t heard a plane overhead or seen so much as an electric light in the darkness. You haven’t, have you?”

I returned his stare. “No,” I murmured. “None of those things.”

“We are thousands of years in the past. We’re back in a time when the earth is green and the only thing that matters is that we survive to see another day.”

I looked out across the countryside. In the fading light of the setting sun, I could see mile upon mile of forest, an endless sea of deep green. There were no car headlights racing across the landscape. There was no orange glow from the streetlights of distant towns. What if the old man was right? What if I really had gone back in time? There was so much conviction in his voice; he clearly believed it himself. I looked him in the eye. “You sound like you prefer it here.”

Morven looked down at the ground. “When I left home, things were bad.” He paused, lost in thought. “This was my chance to start again.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “And this is what you do? You kidnap people and torture them? You commit cold-blooded murder?”

Morven looked over to the men at the fireside. “It isn’t always like this. We have a village, with women and children, but, every so often, the men go off on these war parties. They take a prisoner, offer him to the stone.”

A chill ran over my skin. “You mean, like a sacrifice?”

Morven nodded gravely. “It’s what they believe they have to do. And I know these people. They’re very aggressive. If they didn’t do this, they’d fight among themselves. They’d wipe each other out in a week.”

“Christ,” I whispered.

“No. He hasn’t been born yet.”

My mind reeled. In some ways the old man was making sense, but
time travel?
Surely that was just ridiculous, insane. I glanced over toward the men around the fire. Whatever the explanation, these strange men would sacrifice me, kill me without a second thought. I had to get away and fast. “So, you’ll let me go? Untie me?”

The old man looked me in the eye. “I could,” he said. He hesitated. “Or, I could try something. I could try to send you back.”

Chapter 35

2018

“COME ON,” Andrew grunted. “It’s almost there.”

Cally’s only reply was a quiet groan.

Andrew checked the hinges.
So close
. They’d almost done it. But something was catching somewhere, some imperfection in the metal, and no matter how hard he strained against it, the gate refused to budge. He closed his eyes. Every muscle burned. His biceps felt like they were being ripped apart.
If I give up now
,
I won’t have the strength to try again.
He took a quick breath, and as he exhaled, he poured every last ounce of his strength into forcing the gate upward.

And it worked. The gate moved the crucial last millimetres and with a dull screech, it was free from its hinges. But now, its full weight was on their hands and there was nothing to stop it toppling over. If it fell, even if it fell away from them into the tunnel, the bottom would swing up and hit them in the legs.

Andrew staggered and tried to control it, but they were both holding the gate in the middle, and there was no way he could change his grip to stabilise the top. “Steady,” he hissed. “Put it down.”

Together, they lowered the gate until it came to rest on the floor. Andrew blew out his cheeks and moved one hand upward to steady the top of the gate.

“We’ve done it,” Cally said. “I can’t believe we’ve done it.”

Andrew flashed her a smile. “We’ve just got to drag it to one side.” He gave the gate an experimental shove. Now, only the chain was holding it in place, and he could use that as a pivot to slide the gate across the ground. “You can let go now. I think I can manage it on my own.”

“OK, fine,” Cally said, and she took a deep breath.

Andrew put his back into it, and the gate grated and juddered across the gritty floor until it was leaning back against the tunnel wall. Carefully, Andrew released it. It didn’t move. He rubbed his hands together, satisfied, and looked at Cally. “Do you want to lead the way?”

Cally bit her bottom lip. “Do you think anybody heard us?”

“Maybe, but they’d never guess what we were doing.”

“No, I suppose not,” Cally murmured.

“Still, we’d better not hang around. Someone might come to investigate.”

Cally nodded. “OK, but, do you mind going first?” She glanced down the tunnel. “It looks very, erm, spidery.”

So, she does have a weakness
, Andrew thought. He smiled to himself. She was only human after all, and he liked that. He liked it very much. “Sure. No problem.” He squared his shoulders, and stepped into the narrow tunnel. Like the passageways they were leaving behind, the floor was covered in grit, but here, the ceilings were much higher, and his footsteps echoed in the darkness.

As he walked farther into the unlit tunnel, Cally followed, and their bodies blocked out most of the light from the tunnels behind them. Andrew put his hand on the tunnel wall to guide his way. Even so, he cracked his toe against one of the blocks of stone littering the floor. He winced and stifled a couple of harsh words. He’d have to be more careful. But as he picked his way forward, a soft white light suddenly bathed the tunnel walls, and it was coming from behind him. He whirled around, half expecting to see a furious tour guide bearing down on them, but the light came from Cally. She held up her hand to show him. “It’s my phone,” she said. “It’s quite bright isn’t it?”

Andrew exhaled noisily. “You could’ve warned me.”

“Sorry. I only just thought of it.” She paused. “You didn’t bring yours with you?”

“No. I changed my mind. I thought it might get damp or something.” Andrew ran his hand over his jacket. Another source of light would’ve been very handy. Maybe he should’ve kept his phone and just taken the SIM card out. But that wouldn’t have been enough to stop Crawford from tracking him, and anyway, there was nothing he could do about it now. “Could you shine it on the ground?” he asked. “There are rocks all over the place.”

“Sure,” Cally said. “Be careful.”

“OK, but I think that ship has sailed.” He turned back to face the dark tunnel ahead, and as they walked forward, the pale, bobbing light from Cally’s phone sent fleeting shadows skittering silently into the deeper gloom that pressed in on every side.

Andrew looked nervously from side to side, but Cally walked forward, admiring the walls. “Just look at the craftsmanship,” she murmured. “Think of the men toiling away down here.” She stopped to inspect a stone block on the floor. “Feathering,” she whispered. “I knew it.”

“Come on,” Andrew said, “We need to keep moving, and I need your light.”

“Sure,” Cally said. She held her phone steady and joined him, then they moved forward together. “It’s amazing,” she murmured. “How many years have passed since someone last walked along this path?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew said. “I really don’t know.”

The man who knew the answer to Cally’s question was even now walking along the main tunnel.

Crawford tilted his head and paused to listen. There. Voices; one voice louder than the rest. It could only be the tour guide, and she was bringing her party closer. Of course, Crawford was prepared for this eventuality. He knew the tour ended where it began, at the entrance to the tunnels, so it was almost inevitable that he’d run into the tour group. It wasn’t a problem. As far as all the staff were concerned, he had the authority to be there. Still, it was a damned nuisance to meet them so soon. At this point, the tunnel was too narrow for two people to pass each other, and he didn’t have the time to turn around, exit the tunnel, and wait for the tour to finish. Instead, he put his plan into action, increasing his pace. In a matter of moments, he saw the group of tourists ahead. He strode confidently toward them.

Helen had just stopped to answer a question from one of the children, and she’d turned to face her group, so she didn’t see Crawford bearing down on her. “That’s a good question,” she said. “There were probably lots of rats in the passages. They came to feed off the tallow—a kind of animal fat—that was used to seal the joints in the pipe.” She smiled as a few of the tourists shuddered at the thought of rats scuttling through the tunnels. “But don’t worry, we don’t see them down here now.”

“Look,” a little boy said, pointing into the tunnel behind her. “There’s a man.”

“What?” Helen turned sharply, and gasped in surprise. “Hey, you!” she called out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Crawford slowed his pace, but only a little. “It’s all right,” he said cheerily. “It’s only me.”

“Oh! Mr. Crawford. It’s you. Is everything…?” Her voice trailed away and she glanced at the tourists.

“Nothing to worry about,” Crawford said as he approached. “I had hoped to meet you a bit farther back so we could pass one another.”

Helen stepped away from her group to meet Crawford. “I’ve got a bit of a confession to make,” she said, as quietly as she could. “Do you know Cally? She worked here over the summer.”

Crawford flashed an emotionless smile and pretended to think for a moment. “We’ve never met.”

“Oh. Well, as I say, she used to work here, and she turned up today with a friend, and she asked if they could tag along with the tour.”

“I see.”

“It’s just, I’m sure she’s all right and everything, but…” Helen hesitated and took a breath. “She’s not here. And her friend is missing as well. They must’ve hung back and I didn’t notice. I’m ever so sorry.”

Crawford let the silence hang in the air between them for a second or two longer than was necessary. The look of misery on Helen’s face was wonderful. At last, he said, “I’m sure there’s no problem, but I’ll have a stern word with her if you like.”

“Yes please,” Helen said. “That would be great. She should know better really, I don’t know what she’s playing at.”

“Leave it with me,” Crawford said. “But I do need to ask you a favour.”

“Oh?”

“I have a few things to check—urgently. So if you could just get your party to do an about-face and retrace their steps for a couple of minutes, we’ll get to the wider section and I can pass you by.”

Helen looked doubtful. “But what will I say?”

“You’ll think of something. Tell them you forgot to mention something, or say they can have a few extra minutes as a bonus.”

“I suppose I could take them back to the junction,” Helen said. “Some of the children asked if they could have another go at the low tunnel.”

“That’s the spirit,” Crawford said. “Go on then. As quick as you like.”

Helen turned away, looking slightly dazed. “OK, everyone,” she said. “You’re in luck today. My senior colleague here has said that we can have an extra few minutes in the tunnels. So if you’d like to turn around and retrace our steps a little way, then, if the children are really good, they might even get an extra go in the really low tunnel.”

Crawford rocked back on his heels. So, the girl and Andrew had already separated themselves from the group. Good. As soon as the chattering tourists were out of the way, he could deal with the girl, and bring this debacle to an end, once and for all.

Andrew studied what little he could see of the gloomy tunnel as he led the way. There was nothing here that would interest Crawford. “What exactly are we looking for?” he asked.

“This might sound a bit far-fetched,” Cally said, “but we’re looking for something from a medieval story.”

“Like what? A dragon? A giant with two heads?”

Cally tutted. “There’s no need to be facetious.”

“Sorry, but could you give me a bit more of a clue?”

“They dug these tunnels back in—”

“The fourteenth century,” Andrew interrupted. “I was listening you know.”

“OK. But what you don’t know about are the stories and myths that seem to appear at the time.”

“True,” Andrew admitted. “But aren’t they just that—stories?”

“Maybe,” Cally said. “But I think there’s some truth in them.”

Andrew stopped walking and turned back to her. This didn’t add up. Why on Earth would Crawford get involved with a medieval fairy-tale?
There must be something else
. There had to be some connection Cally wasn’t seeing. “These stories—what were they about?”

Cally looked up at him. “Look, just don’t make fun of me, OK?”

Andrew nodded. “Of course I won’t.”

Cally took a breath. “A few years ago, I worked on a dig over the summer—up north. We were looking into something the locals called The Black Stone of Scaderstone. I was just a helper, a volunteer. But then something happened and I got really interested.”

“How do you mean? What happened?”

Cally shook her head. “It sounds stupid, but when I was by the black stone, I thought I had some sort of weird experience.”

“What?”

“Oh, I know nothing happened really. I was young and stupid and someone, this really tacky guy, gave me a joint. I wasn’t used to it, and I sort of freaked out—it was like a strange sort of daydream.”