The Curse of Deadman's Forest (22 page)

“He’s not my father,” Theo whispered, looking a bit desperate.

The earl’s eyes flashed to her. “Lass,” he said gently, “I must prepare you for the inevitable. It may not matter.”

    Ian, Carl, Theo, and Jaaved met in the tower room much later that evening. “What are we going to do?” Jaaved asked.

Ian stared at the floor, thoroughly dispirited. “I’ve no idea,” he said.

“We could leave,” Carl said softly. Ian raised his eyes to look at his friend. “I mean, why wait round here for the major to take Theo away when we’ve got plenty of money from the treasure we brought back from Morocco to take us someplace far away where no one would even think to look for her.”

Jaaved shifted uncomfortably, and Ian knew that he didn’t like the idea of leaving the keep. “You want to stay behind, don’t you?” he asked the Moroccan boy.

Jaaved grimaced. “Yes,” he admitted. “But I feel you’ll
need me, especially if you plan to return to the portal. So I’ll go where you go, Ian.”

Ian smiled gratefully at him. “Excellent, Jaaved. That just leaves us with deciding where.”

“We could go to America!” Jaaved suggested, his face suddenly lighting up with the idea of the adventure. “Or Australia!”

Carl pumped his head up and down enthusiastically. “We could!”

“But what about the prophecy?” Theo protested. “Have you all forgotten about our duty to Laodamia? We’ll be called upon soon enough to go back through the portal and find the Healer.”

“We could always return when the time is right, Theo,” Ian said, liking Carl’s idea more and more.

But Theo appeared unconvinced. “How are we to know when it’s time if we’re halfway round the world?”

Carl frowned. “She’s got a point there.”

Ian stood up from the wooden crate he’d been sitting on and began to pace the floor. “Don’t you see that it doesn’t matter, Theo? If we stay here and the major takes you away before we have a chance to find the Healer, none of what Laodamia planned for us will come true. Without you, the whole plan’s off. If we leave now, at least we’d have a chance.”

“He’s got a good point,” Carl said, and Ian gave him an impatient look. “What?” Carl said defensively. “You’ve both got good points is all I’m saying!”

Theo toyed with her crystal and turned to stare out at
the starlit sky. “Very well,” she said after a bit. “We’ll go.” Ian beamed her a relieved smile. “But we’ll not go far,” she insisted. “We’ll need to be close enough so that we can return to the portal quickly.”

“America and Australia are out, then,” said Jaaved.

“We could go back to France,” Carl suggested. Ian flinched involuntarily. He knew what Carl was thinking—that their stay in Toulouse had been most pleasant for him—but for Ian it had been torture.

So he was greatly relieved when Theo said, “We can’t go back and stay with the Lafittes, Carl.”

“Why not?”

“Because they would surely contact the earl with our whereabouts.”

“She’s got a point there, mate,” Ian said, adding a playful smile when Carl looked at him crossly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carl agreed. “Still, France or Normandy seem the best choice for us. They’re just across the channel, and we could board passage from Dover.”

“How will we sneak out?” Jaaved asked. “Someone’s sure to see us leaving the grounds.”

Ian tapped his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll go at night,” he said. “An hour before dawn. It’ll be a bit dodgy, what with the earl’s extra patrols, but we should be able to manage it without too much trouble. With any luck we can purchase our tickets and cross the channel on the morning ferry.”

“I’ve seen the schedule posted down at the market,” said Carl. “The first boat leaves at six in the morning.”

“Perfect,” Theo said. “What day shall we leave?”

“We’ll need at least a week to gather supplies and such,” Ian told her. “And we can use the knapsacks we brought back from Morocco. We’ll collect our supplies, extra clothing, and our money and store them in the knapsacks at the bottom of the ladder under the bench.”

Jaaved asked, “How much money should we bring along?”

“Enough for the tickets and a month’s lodging, I suppose. How much do each of you have here at the keep?”

“I’m good for twenty quid,” said Carl.

“I’ve got fifty,” said Jaaved.

“I’m with Carl,” Ian said. “I’ve got a twenty-pound note hidden under my mattress.”

Everyone turned to Theo, who had an enormous grin on her face. “We’ll have plenty of money, Ian. Not to worry.”

“How much have you got?” Carl asked.

Theo swiped a blond curl from her eyes. “I’ve got five hundred pounds,” she said proudly. They all gasped and Theo giggled. “Several weeks ago I had a feeling we’d be needing some extra money, so one day, while running errands with Lady Arbuthnot, I stopped at the Bank of Brittan and made a withdrawal.”

“That’s got to be enough for all of us to live on for at least a year or two,” Carl said with a wide smile. “Good thinking, Theo!”

Ian could feel the tension of the past day leave his shoulders as their plans were finalized. “Smashing,” he said with a clap of his hands. “We’ll leave one week from tonight. Be discreet about gathering your supplies. Carl, don’t forget to
pack the torches, and some extra batteries. Jaaved, we may need to leave most of your crystals behind. I don’t think there’ll be room in the knapsacks for them. And, Theo, see what you can do about dropping hints to a few of the other orphans about how worried you are about going away with the major, and how you’d much prefer to go back to Toulouse.”

“Why on earth would I say that?” Theo asked, and the other boys looked at Ian as if he’d gone daft.

“Toulouse makes sense,” he explained. “When we come up missing, and the earl conducts a search for us, he’ll begin by looking in the south of France. I’m sure he’ll check with the port master to make certain we purchased tickets to Calais, which of course we’ll do, but once we reach France, we’ll turn right round and book passage to Dunkirk, then make our way to Amsterdam.”

“We’re going to Belgium?” Jaaved asked.

Ian smiled. Jaaved liked maps and geography just as much as he did, and the lad had learned quite a bit about the layout of Europe in the year he’d been at the keep. “We are,” Ian told him. “I’ll see about getting into the earl’s library to pinch us an atlas for the journey.”

With a plan in hand, everyone retired for the evening, both excited and nervous about the week ahead.

T
wo days after they’d made their plans, Ian was able to convince the headmistresses to allow Landis to escort him to Castle Dover on the pretense of finding a new book to read. Landis seemed more than pleased to take Ian to the earl’s residence, and Ian suspected that this was due to the new laundry maid the earl had recently acquired.

Once a week some members of the castle’s staff came to the keep to assist the headmistresses with laundry and food preparation, and Ian had seen Landis’s eyes light up when he and the maid had been introduced.

And sure enough, the moment Ian arrived at the earl’s library, Landis offered up an excuse about needing a bit of starch from the laundry room, and hurried away. Once Ian was alone in the large room, he began to scan the shelves for a suitable atlas. The earl had several, but Ian had his favorite. He knew just the one he wanted; it was a large leather-bound tome with fantastic detail and legible writing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take the entire atlas with
him on the escape five nights hence, and he’d already resigned himself to the necessity of tearing out the appropriate page about Belgium and hoping that the earl didn’t think to search through his collection of atlases for a possible clue to where they’d gone. He could only cross his fingers that the earl would never notice, and if he ever found a similar atlas on his travels, he would make sure to purchase it and send it in replacement.

After looking in the usual spot for the text and not seeing it, he moved to a stack of books on a nearby desk and spied it near the bottom of the pile. Smiling, he began to move the books on top out of the way, and as he did so, he set aside a newspaper that was hiding another book, which appeared brand-new.

Ian’s eyes widened when he took in the title.
The Hobbit
was printed in black lettering across a gray-blue cover with etchings of mountains and a menacing dragon. For a moment, Ian forgot his task and curiously opened the novel. There, on the inside cover, was an inscription:

Ian’s mouth fell open and he plopped down into a nearby chair, stunned right down to his toes. He’d had to leave the copy of
The Hobbit
he’d originally been reading back at the Lafittes’ after getting through only the first several chapters,
but he’d been so impressed by the novel that he’d talked it up quite a bit on the train ride back to Dover. He’d had no idea the earl would do such a generous and kind thing for him. His eyes moved guiltily to the atlas on the table and he felt a wave of shame wash over him. Not only was he about to desecrate the earl’s property, but he was also about to betray his trust.

Ian closed the cover gently and smoothed his hands over it. He did not deserve such a gift, and he felt a terrible guilt for what he and the others had to do to keep Theo safe. With a sigh he moved the newspaper back over the earl’s gift and stood up, ready to leave the atlas in place and untouched. He could purchase a map once they arrived in Amsterdam.

Ian was about to leave the library when he heard voices coming toward him in the hallway. One of them he was sure belonged to the earl, and Ian looked about quickly, then darted to the opposite end of the room, where he pretended to look thoughtfully up at the shelves.

A moment later the earl and his head butler pushed their way through the double doors. “They should be arriving on the evening train, Mr. Binsford. Please have my driver meet them at the station and take them to the keep,” said the earl when he suddenly noticed Ian alone in the room. “Master Wigby!” the earl exclaimed. “Whatever are you doing away from the keep’s grounds?”

Ian was quick to explain. “It’s all right, my lord. Landis escorted me here to ensure my safety. I merely wanted a new book to read.”

The earl’s expression immediately turned to delight. “Well, my lad, I must say that you are looking in the wrong place! I have just the book for you, in fact.” The earl strode over to the table with the atlas and moved aside the newspaper that Ian had just replaced. He pulled out the novel hidden underneath, walked back over to Ian, and gave it to him with an enormous smile. “Here you are, lad,” he said kindly. “Happy early birthday!”

With a start Ian realized that the end of the month was his fourteenth birthday, and he could hardly believe that the earl had remembered. “My lord,” he said, accepting the book and feeling guiltier than he could ever remember. “It’s a copy of
The Hobbit
. You’re far too generous.”

The earl rocked back on his heels. “Not at all, my young man!” he said with enthusiasm. “Open up the cover, Ian. There’s an inscription that I believe you’ll quite enjoy.”

Ian gulped. He opened the cover and read aloud the words written there, then closed the cover and held the novel tightly to his chest. “Thank you, my lord. I don’t deserve such kindness.”

The earl beamed happily down at him and gave him a pat on the back. “I had the great fortune of meeting Mr. Tolkien recently at a dinner party. Quite an agreeable chap, really.”

Ian nodded dumbly. He found it difficult to meet the earl’s eyes. Fortunately, he was saved from his patriarch’s continued kindness when Mr. Binsford cleared his throat and asked from the doorway, “Will that be all, my lord?”

The earl turned around to regard his butler. “Oh, terribly
sorry, Binsford. I quite forgot you were standing there. Yes, that will be all, but tell Miss Carlyle that I shall be dining at the keep this evening. I’ll want to be there to welcome the new orphans.”

Binsford had barely bowed out of the room when Ian asked, “New orphans, my lord?”

The earl moved to a nearby love seat and sat down with a contented sigh. “Yes, lad, I’ve found the perfect replacements to fill those two empty beds at the keep, or rather, our talented schoolmasters have done the job for me.”

“The ones you mentioned when we were in France?” Ian asked, still hugging the book.

The earl scratched his beard thoughtfully and explained. “Yes, lad. I know that you lot have been quite concerned about my order for you to remain at the keep and not venture through the portal, which is why, after receiving a particularly interesting telegram from your schoolmasters, I began to put forth a plan of my own.

“You see, Ian, I began to wonder if Laodamia might have foreseen certain obstacles getting in the way of the fulfillment of her prophecies, and took pains to ensure that we could work around them.”

Ian furrowed his brow, confused. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord, but I’m not following you.”

The earl laughed. “Right,” he said, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “When we were in France, I received a telegram from Thatcher and Perry, detailing the progress being made at the orphanage in Cornwall where I’d
sent them. Do you remember my assigning them to oversee the improvements I’d funded there?”

Ian nodded. “Yes.”

“Well,” continued the earl, “in their telegram to me, they spoke at length of the talents of a certain young lady who’s recently been received at that orphanage. Her name is Vanessa. Her father, mother, and younger brother all perished from some terrible bout of the flu, or so I’m told. It appears this young lass is a most gifted child, and your schoolmasters claim that from the moment of her arrival, Vanessa has insisted upon spending most of her time in the orphanage’s infirmary, assisting the headmistresses there with any ill or injured child. The Masters Goodwyn assure me Vanessa is quite adept at nursing these sick children back to health, and both Thatcher and Perry are most impressed with her.”