The Curse of Deadman's Forest (40 page)

“Bells?” inquired the earl. “What sort of bells?”

The professor tugged at one bushy eyebrow. “According to legend, the mists will signal when they are ready to receive a visitor by ringing a bell. Once the visitor has stepped forward into the fog, a second bell will sound when the mist is ready to receive the visitor’s inquiries. A third bell will sound when it is time for the visitor to leave.”

“What happens if you don’t leave after the third bell?” Carl asked.

The professor sighed. “No one really knows,” he confessed. “And this might be because no one who has ever stayed past the third bell was ever seen again.”

Ian gulped. “As long as I obey the rules, I’ll return unharmed, is that it?”

“Yes,” said the professor with confidence. “And because it appears we are not yet finished with Laodamia’s second prophecy, I say we travel to Wales and discover what this mist has to share.”

In the silence that followed, Ian felt butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. Until the year before, he’d spent his whole life trying very hard not to think about his parents, because if he thought about them, he would have to conclude that he was unwanted or that they had both died. Either thought always left him feeling sad.

But that was nothing compared with how he’d felt a year earlier when the earl had told him that on the other side of the portal, a gardener had discovered Ian’s mother clutching her newborn child and that, for reasons unknown to anyone, his mother had insisted the gardener take Ian before
she had disappeared behind the wall, shutting out any further knowledge of her forever.

Ian had been crushed by the revelation that he now knew all he would ever know about her. It was as if all hope of discovering who he really was and where he had come from was forever lost to him.

For months he’d looked for the gardener, who, upon arriving at the earl’s home with a newborn babe and an improbable story, had been summarily dismissed. But Ian had found no record of the man after he’d left the earl’s employ. The gardener was as lost to Ian as his own mother. Yet as Ian now stared at the earl, his schoolmasters, the professor, Theo, and Carl, hope bloomed wide within his chest, and he knew he would stop at nothing to gain the answers the mist might provide him. “When do we leave?” he asked.

The professor smiled broadly but left it to the earl to answer. “Tomorrow,” the earl announced. “We shall leave tomorrow.”

T
he seven members of the traveling party stood silently in the marshy fields at the bottom of a hill in the early morning hours. Dawn had barely broken on the Isle of Anglesey, and the landscape was shrouded in a fog so thick Ian couldn’t even make out his own feet. It was as if the whole world were floating on a fluffy white blanket.

Beside him Carl yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I would’ve liked another hour in bed,” he grumbled.

“You were welcome to stay there,” Ian reminded him.

“What?” Carl said. “And miss all the fun? I don’t bloomin’ think so.”

“Shhh!” Theo scolded. “We’re supposed to be listening for the bells!”

Carl regarded her moodily. “We’ve been standing here for half an hour, Theo, and we haven’t heard them yet.”

Theo frowned. “We need to be patient,” she insisted.

But Ian was beginning to have his doubts. He wondered if perhaps they’d chosen the wrong location.

When they’d arrived on the island, Professor Nutley had inquired with several local residents about the mists. Some had scoffed at him and told him not to bother with fairy stories. But a few had suggested that they fully believed in their magical isle, and that the mists could be found in one of four locations.

They had left it up to Theo to decide which one to visit and she had selected a particularly swampy section near a graveyard that had giant megaliths dotting the hillsides just behind it.

Ian quite approved of her choice, and that morning he’d been brimming with anticipation and confidence, but the longer they stood about waiting for something to happen, the more crestfallen he became. “What if they don’t sound?” he whispered to Theo. “What if the bells never call me forward?”

She looked at him anxiously. “They will,” she insisted. “Laodamia said as much, after all.”

Ian inhaled deeply and attempted to calm his nerves. He’d practiced in his head several times how he would ask the mist to reveal the identity of his parents after he’d inquired about the treasure box. He hoped he asked correctly and he wondered what the mist would tell him.

The group waited yet another thirty minutes, with nothing but the calm quiet of the morning to reach their ears. More of their surroundings became illuminated as the sun rose a bit farther on the horizon. The gray cast to the landscape was now laced with patches of pinks and purples as the rays of the sun began to reflect off the dense fog. And still,
no bells or ringing or anything out of the ordinary came to Ian’s anxious ears.

He heard the professor sigh and caught the look that passed between the old man and the earl. “Perhaps we’re in the wrong place?” the earl asked.

The schoolmasters nodded, as if they’d been thinking the very same thing. “There are three other locations we might try,” said Perry. “Perhaps tomorrow will yield us a better result?”

“Smashing,” said Carl, already turning to head up the hill. “I’ve a craving for some tea and toast. I think I’m chilled to the bone.”

Ian watched reluctantly as everyone but Theo began to walk away from their vigil. “Come along,” he said, bitterly disappointed. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“I’m sorry,” Theo said. “I really thought I’d chosen the right spot.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ian assured her. “There’s always tomorrow.”

He and Theo turned away and took a few steps, and that was when Ian heard one loud beautiful chord sing out across the fields. He and Theo both stopped dead in their tracks and stared wide-eyed at each other. “The bells!” they said in unison.

Carl looked over his shoulder. “What’d you say?” he asked as the earl also paused to look back.

“Didn’t you hear that?” Theo asked.

“Hear what?”

“That bell!” Ian nearly shouted before turning his eyes
to the earl. “My lord, surely you heard it?” But the earl shook his head and looked back at him curiously.

“I heard nothing, Ian.”

Thatcher, Perry, and the professor had also stopped on their way up the hill and were looking curiously back at them. “What did you hear, lad?” asked the professor.

“We both heard it!” Theo exclaimed, taking Ian’s hand and turning back toward the thinning fog. “Ian, look!” she added, pointing to a small patch of mist that seemed to curl out of the terrain, snaking its way toward them.

“What?” asked the earl, hurrying down the hill to them. “Theo, what do you see?”

“You don’t see that?” Ian gasped. “My lord, there’s a thick patch of mist making its way to us!”

The professor, Carl, and the schoolmasters joined them and peered at the spot Ian was pointing to. “I don’t see anything,” Carl complained.

Ian looked at Theo. She nodded. “I see it too!” she told him.

The professor shrugged. “Well, then, by all means, lad, follow the mist. It is obviously beckoning you.”

Ian felt a rush of excitement, but he was nervous too. He stepped forward several paces and waited for the curling fog to circle about him from the waist down, as if lassoing him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Theo was beaming with happiness. “Go,” she told him. “Find your answers.”

But Ian wondered suddenly if he was the only one the mist was beckoning. In a last-minute decision, he said, “Theo, come with me!”

Theo looked doubtful. “You don’t need me,” she told him. “You can find the way on your own.”

But Ian thought differently. “I believe you’re supposed to come, Theo,” he said. “You heard the bell too. You can see the mist. And the crone did say that both of us would need to find our answers in the mist. Perhaps she wasn’t suggesting that we’d do so at separate times, but now. Together.”

Theo bit her lip while she considered him.

But Ian was afraid that if she didn’t join him quickly, they’d both lose their chance. “Come on before it leaves again!” he implored her.

“I believe Ian might be right,” said the professor kindly. “Why not go along at least and share the experience?”

Reluctantly, Theo stepped forward to join Ian, and the mist curled around both their middles, as if it wanted to tug them forward. Ian took hold of Theo’s hand and together they walked into its center. “Remember not to stay past the third bell!” the professor called.

“I’ll remember!” he promised eagerly, walking forward.

The pair made their way easily, following the fog still curled about them for at least a half kilometer. While they walked, Ian became aware that a white fluffy fog seemed to waft up out of the ground, forming an archway high above their heads—almost like a wide tunnel. Light permeated its misty walls so that Ian could still see Theo quite clearly, but much of the surrounding landscape was completely obscured.

When he chanced a quick glance behind him, he saw only white, and for the first time, he felt a tickle of fear when
he realized he could no longer make out the rest of their party.

Theo, however, appeared captivated by her surroundings. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and a smile never left her face. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen a mist so pure and white.”

Not long afterward, the smoky rope tethered about their middles faded away and Ian and Theo found themselves quite suddenly in the center of a huge four-walled room complete with thick white misty walls and a high ceiling. For several seconds, nothing happened, but then the eerie silence was broken by the sound of the second bell.

Ian waited breathlessly for something else to happen, but for several heartbeats nothing at all did.

“What happens now?” Theo whispered, squeezing his hand.

Ian shrugged. “Dunno,” he said, a bit anxious about what he was supposed to do next.

“Welcome!” said a disembodied female voice that seemed to come at them from every direction. “We have awaited your arrival, Guardian, and glad are we that you have brought the One with you. Now ask us what you should desire and we will reveal all.”

Ian felt a wave of nervous energy wash over him. Once the mist revealed where to locate the treasure box, he was free to learn everything about his parents! He looked at Theo, glad she was there to share it with him. She beamed him a brilliant smile, adding a nod of encouragement, and suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her in less
than a week. He looked back at the white swirling walls and realized they might hold a truth even more important than the one he’d come here to seek. In the next moment he knew what he must do, and he decided to ask this most important question even before inquiring about the treasure box.

Still, he couldn’t help regretting what he was giving up. He closed his eyes, lest he change his mind, and said, “There is a man who claims to be Theo’s father. His name is Major Fitzgerald. I would like to know about Theo’s mother, where she came from, and if the major is, in fact, her father.”

Beside him he heard Theo gasp. “Ian, no!” Ian opened his eyes and saw her shaking her head vigorously. “Not me!” she insisted. “We needed to ask about the treasure box, and any question after that was supposed to be about
you
!”

But already the mist of the four walls was in motion and the disembodied voice said, “I have heard your request, and here is the answer you desire.”

On the wall in front of them, shapes began to appear. At first the shapes were rough outlines of two people, but the more Ian stared at them, the more they seemed to materialize and increase in detail. Very quickly he realized he was staring at a young girl of about eight and an older woman of about twenty, wearing Grecian gowns. “Jacinda!” said the older woman. “What has happened?”

Theo gasped again. “That’s my mother as a young girl!” she whispered.

“They’ve taken my father away, Adria!” the young Jacinda cried. Ian remembered immediately that Adria was
the name of Laodamia’s most faithful protégé. “My sisters are being held prisoner in our home,” Jacinda continued, “but I stole away before they could discover me. I must find Mia and warn her! Her enemies will stop at nothing until they capture her and bring her before the council!”

The young lady named Adria hugged Jacinda fiercely. “The Oracle is aware of the danger, Jacinda,” she said. “And she has hidden herself in our old meeting place.”

“I must go to her!”

Adria let go of Jacinda and turned to reach for something within the fog. Her hand reappeared holding a small box with familiar etchings. “Laodamia told me you would come here. She insisted I give you this,” she said. “She also advised me to send you to the cave where your brother’s friend Calais was killed. The Oracle is hiding there. But here, take some food and water with you. Her condition is quite fragile, and I’m terribly worried about her.”

“I know where the cave is,” Jacinda said, taking the box and the supplies. “I’ll go to her now!”

“Tell the Oracle that I’ll come to her later this evening with more supplies. And please, Jacinda, tell her to rest. She must not overdo.”

Jacinda nodded and dashed away into the mist.

The remaining figure of Adria dissolved and the mist swirled, re-forming itself into what looked like the opening of a cave. Jacinda was there, clutching the treasure box as she picked her way along the rocky floor. “Laodamia!” she called. “It’s me! Jacinda! I must speak with you!” Ian watched, utterly spellbound, as the girl stepped forward
across a familiar threshold, searching for the Oracle—who appeared to be nowhere in sight—and stopped when her foot kicked something on the ground.

Ian knew exactly what it was, and winced when Jacinda screamed as she realized she’d nearly stepped right onto a human skeleton. In her fear she darted forward, and then, quite suddenly, the way behind her was cut off. A wall appeared where none had been before.

The poor girl cried out again when she realized she could not go back, and she dashed out of the cavern as fast as she could, then dissolved altogether into a swirling of white mist. A moment later a new set of shapes formed. Jacinda reappeared looking a year or two older and much worse for wear. Her Grecian clothing was gone, replaced by more contemporary garb, but the girl was wafer thin, disheveled, and cowering in the corner of an alleyway while an elderly couple attempted to coax her out of the corner. “There, there,” said the woman. “You poor thing! Out here on these streets, left to fend for yourself. Why, you can’t be older than nine or ten years old!”