Quest for the Secret Keeper (10 page)

Ian frowned. “Not yet, sir. The admiral’s a bit suspicious of the earl’s intentions these days, and I’m afraid I’m the cause of it.”

Thatcher’s brow creased with an unspoken question,
and Ian had to explain the events surrounding poor Madam Dimbleby. “My heavens!” Thatcher exclaimed when he heard the news about the kindly headmistress. “Is she recovering?”

“Yes,” Eva told him. “She will live, but there’s nothing I can do to mend her broken heart over the loss of her cousin. That will take time, I’m afraid.”

Thatcher laced his fingers together and looked at each of the people, gathered round the table. “Leave your port pass to me,” he said. “I will make sure it is granted and that you have a clear path out to the channel. You’ll likely be required to leave very early indeed, so be ready.”

Everyone at the table breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked the schoolmaster.

Thatcher got up from the table then, carrying his teacup and saucer to the sink, and everyone seemed to take that as a sign that it was time to leave. He offered to drive them, but the dispirited group voted to walk instead. Ian knew he’d welcome the exercise, even if the weather was still foul. They gave their farewells to the kind Mr. Goodwyn and struck out in the rain again.

Carl and Ian ended up walking together not far behind Jaaved and Argos, who were in the lead and obviously anxious to get back to the keep. Eva and Theo were walking together behind Carl and Ian. It was slow going through the rain and mud-lined streets, which were quite crowded given the weather.

During their walk home, Carl asked, “Ian? What do you
think about that part where Laodamia is talking about you not drinking the potion?”

Ian squirmed in his Sunday blazer. “I think she’s talking about the vial from the box,” he said. The last silver treasure box they’d acquired had contained the prophecy and a small vial of black viscous liquid, not anything Ian could imagine himself ever wanting to ingest.

“Why do you think she’s warning you not to drink it?” Carl said, as if reading Ian’s mind.

“Dunno,” Ian said with a shrug. “You’d have to put a gun to my head to make me swallow that inky swill. It’s at least three thousand years old, and poisonous.”

“Well, someone’s going to drink it down,” Carl said, and Ian heard the nervous tension in his voice. “I just hope it’s not me.”

At this Ian openly laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it, Carl. You know it’s poison, so there’d be no reason for you to have a taste.”

“You’re bringing it along, though, aren’t you?” Carl asked.

Ian’s momentary good humor dimmed. “Yes,” he said. Ian had considered leaving the vial behind, but he wasn’t certain that the prophecy intended for him to leave it in Dover. The mention of the poisonous liquid was tucked too close to the lines describing the rescue of Madame Lafitte and Océanne, and he couldn’t risk not having it at hand if it was needed.

They were nearing the end of the village, and Ian
noticed the traffic increasing significantly. More and more wounded were arriving every day, and by the sight of them, things along the front lines seemed dire indeed. “Ian!” he heard Theo shout from far behind, and he turned just in time to see Theo’s small frame waving frantically at him.

He and Carl raced toward her, only to discover Eva lying on the ground next to an unconscious man, bleeding from a wound in his side. “Eva saw this man was trying to hide his wounds!” Theo said. “She picked him right out and led him over here to help him, but when she laid her hands on him, she went gray and sank to the ground. He fainted right after she did!”

Carl rushed around to Eva’s head and lifted it off the grimy streets. Several people stopped and asked if they needed assistance, and Ian said, “Yes! Someone please send for Dr. Lineberry!”

Ian removed his blazer and handed it to Carl, who wrapped it around Eva’s shoulders. Carl’s own face went pale with worry while he held the poor girl. Looking about, he said, “We’ve got to get her out of this rain.” He gently eased her farther into his arms and with Ian’s help was able to lift her from the ground.

“Someone look after the soldier!” Ian called to the gathering pedestrians while he followed Carl, who was walking awkwardly with Eva toward the nearest shop. The shopkeeper inside saw them coming and hurried to open the door. “What’s happened to the poor girl?” asked Mr. Ferguson, one of two bakers in the village.

“She’s fainted,” Ian said. “Is there somewhere clean and dry he can set her down?”

“Yes, yes!” replied Mr. Ferguson. “I have a cot in the back!”

Ian and Carl followed the kindly baker to the back of the shop, where Carl set Eva down and smoothed back her wet hair. “Carl?” she said, her eyes fluttering.

The corners of Ian’s mouth quirked. His best friend certainly had a way with the girls. “I’m right here,” Carl whispered to her. “And we’ve sent for Dr. Lineberry.”

“Here,” said the baker, shoving a glass of water at them. “Get her to drink that.”

Ian thanked the man and held the glass while Carl propped up Eva’s head so that she could take a few sips. “I’m better,” she said, but her pasty white complexion begged to differ.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal, Eva?” Carl asked.

Ian then noticed how very thin the girl had become of late. He knew she’d been taking her meals in the room where Madam Dimbleby was recovering, but he wondered how much she was eating.

Eva feebly brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, her head wobbling slightly on her neck. “I don’t recall,” she said.

Mr. Ferguson made a tsking sound and hurried off again. He was back in a moment with a thick slice of bread coated in sweet butter. “Eat,” he ordered. Ian’s mouth watered. Butter was very hard to come by these days, as much was being rationed for the war effort.

Eva stared hungrily at the offering. “I didn’t bring any money, Mr. Ferguson,” she confessed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, pushing the bread more firmly at her. “Consider it my treat.”

Eva took the bread and began to take slow and careful bites. “You’ve been doing too much,” Carl chided quietly when the baker went back to tend his shop.

Eva lowered the bread and stared at her lap. “They all need me, Carl,” she said. “I can feel their suffering, and that pulls on me each night, insisting that I heal them.”

Ian eyed Eva more closely now. He noticed the dark circles running under her eyes and again took in her gaunt appearance. With a bit of shock, he realized that having Eva stay so close to the wounded soldiers was slowly killing her.

And that was an awful realization, because one of the only safe places for Eva, as a member of the United, was Delphi Keep. It had been built on a ring of magical monoliths, which had the power to protect Theo, Eva, and Jaaved from the likes of Magus and his evil sisters. If Eva left the place that was draining the life from her, would she be hunted down by one of the sorcerers and killed anyway?

But Ian did not share this with Eva or Carl, because he knew that given the choice, she would stay at the keep to be near both Carl and the wounded soldiers who needed her so desperately.

Dr. Lineberry arrived and Ian and Carl moved away from Eva’s cot to allow him to look her over. The young men ventured into the front of the shop to give them some
privacy and they were both surprised to find the earl standing with Theo, looking terribly worried.

“How is she?” the earl asked.

“She’s awake and talking,” Ian said, hoping to reassure them all. “Dr. Lineberry is looking her over now, but, my lord, I think we should consider moving Eva out of the keep.”

Ian took note of the raised eyebrows from both the earl and Carl, but Theo was nodding vigorously. “Yes, indeed,” she said. “The poor thing will eventually waste away to nothing if someone doesn’t intervene and separate her from all those wounded men.”

The earl eyed Theo and motioned for all of them to walk to a quiet corner of the shop where they could have a bit of privacy. “How can we possibly keep Eva safe if she’s away from the orphanage, Theo?”

“Send her to your aunt, my lord. I’m sure that Lady Arbuthnot wouldn’t mind. And your aunt will surely be able to detect when danger may be approaching. She’ll keep her well and safe, my lord, I’m sure of it.”

“So she’s not coming with us to France?” Carl said, and Ian noticed that Carl’s face was still concerned. He knew that Carl didn’t much care for the idea of being separated from his sweetheart. The sticky part was that Océanne also had affection for Carl, and Ian’s best friend had yet to write to Océanne that his own heart was now fully committed to Eva.

“Absolutely not!” said Theo, as if she were in charge of the whole operation. “The poor girl will never last a day.
What she needs is a bit of rest and some convalescence. And now that Madam Dimbleby is well on her way to recovering, I believe you should also send her to Lady Arbuthnot’s, my lord. She and Eva can return to good health together.”

The corners of the earl’s mouth quirked. “Would you allow me, Theo, to ask my kind aunt if she has room for company on such short notice? Or should I merely ship them off this very evening to arrive unannounced on her doorstep?”

Theo blushed slightly but her tone never wavered. “Of course you should ask her, my lord, but she’ll say yes. I know it. And there is no need to worry over the time it will take to send a telegram. Lady Arbuthnot will be waiting for you at Castle Dover when you return. My senses tell me that she’s not at all happy about missing the early train from London, which caused her in turn to miss Madam Scargill’s funeral. I believe she’ll be most anxious to make up for it by graciously accepting Eva and Madam Dimbleby into her home.”

Theo, as usual, was spot on target. Eva was taken by the earl back to Castle Dover so that the wounded soldiers would not be a constant source of strain for her, and Ian, Carl, and Theo went along for company. When they all arrived, the good Lady Arbuthnot was waiting for them in the front hall. “Hastings!” she said in her radiantly rich voice as she swept over to her nephew and wrapped him in her arms. That day the lady was wearing an abundance of
emerald-green taffeta and a matching hat with a giant ostrich feather. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry for your loss!” she exclaimed. She then backed away from her rather embarrassed nephew but still held tightly to his arms. “I missed the morning train,” she said gravely, as if confessing her sins. “I woke up at the proper time and knew I had to make haste, but I ignored my own intuition and was caught on the street by dear Lady Ballentine. Do you know her son, Bartholomew?”

“I do, Auntie, but—”

“He’s just returned from the front,” Lady Arbuthnot continued, ignoring the earl’s efforts to speak. “And it’s even more dreadful than we suspected! I’ve had the most awful visions lately, Hastings!” she exclaimed. “I’ve seen that dreadful man, Adolf Hitler, marching under the Eiffel Tower!”

Ian felt his stomach contract. Like Theo, Lady Arbuthnot was an extremely gifted seer, and if she saw the German Führer marching through the streets of Paris, then Ian had little doubt that it would happen.

“How soon?” he said, then remembered his manners. “I mean, how soon do you see that, my lady?”

Lady Arbuthnot turned her attention to him, only then noticing that he and the others were also there. “Ian!” she said, leaving her nephew and rushing over to give him a hug. “Oh, my lad! How big you are!”

Ian felt the air squeezed out of him and was relieved when she left him for Carl and then for Theo, who was quite close to the earl’s aunt.

“My heavens, Theo!” Lady Arbuthnot said after she’d let Theo go and stood back to have a look at her. “But you are becoming quite the young lady!”

“Thank you,” Theo said with a curtsy. “But I’m wondering if you could answer Ian’s question for us, as you’re far better with dates than I am. When do you see the Führer marching on Paris?”

Lady Arbuthnot placed a hand to her head and closed her eyes. “Late June,” she said. “The twenty-second or twenty-third, I believe.”

Ian breathed a small sigh of relief. That was almost a full month away. That would give them plenty of time to find Madame Lafitte and Océanne.

“But France will fall to the Germans much sooner than that,” the lady continued. “I give it a week, in fact.”

Ian felt his heart plummet, and barely caught the narrow-eyed squint Lady Arbuthnot was now focusing on her nephew. “Hastings,” she said. “Why do I see your yacht making its way to the French shores?”

Ian, Carl, and Theo returned to the keep shortly after tea. The earl hadn’t needed to explain things to his aunt nearly as much as Ian had expected, and Lady Arbuthnot wholly agreed that if Laodamia had written their rescue attempt in the prophecy, then that was exactly what they must do. “I do not relish the idea of you and the children putting yourselves in harm’s way, but it must be important to the quest if Laodamia has written about it. No, you must go, Hastings. And keep your wits about you and the children
close. I do see Madame Lafitte and her daughter being found, but the path before you is fraught with danger. So please be careful. And Eva of course will come to stay with me while you are all away. I also must insist that you allow me to invite the lovely Madam Dimbleby to my flat for the duration of her recovery, the poor dear. To have gone through such suffering these last few days! I shall make special arrangements for her to travel in my own railcar, where she will be well tended on the trip to London.”

Ian couldn’t help smiling at the smug look on Theo’s face when Lady Arbuthnot said all that, but Carl looked depressed about leaving Eva behind, and that made Ian a bit less amused.

As they were taking their leave, Thatcher came into the parlor and handed the earl his port pass. “You’ll have to leave before the next shipment arrives from France,” he said. “Four a.m.”

The earl took the pass and thanked Thatcher. He then looked at Ian and said, “We’ll meet here at half past three, Ian. Make sure everyone is packed and ready to depart, and please, tell Jaaved to get some rest tonight. Even though he has assured me that he has piloted many a boat in his own land and that he is a most capable sailor, I’ve much to teach him about the rigging and navigation to Le Havre.”