Quest for the Secret Keeper (2 page)

Laodamia regarded her visitor with calm dignity. “Adria,” she said, “meet your future husband, General Adrastus of Lixus.”

General Adrastus thought he had been shocked as much as he could be until he heard the Oracle utter those words.
“Future husband?”
he and Adria said in unison.

The Oracle took a ragged breath and a tiny smile formed on her pale lips. “Yes,” she said. “I have foreseen it, and it will be a most happy union, I can assure you.”

Adria dropped to her knees and set the scrolls aside. “By Zeus, Mia!” she exclaimed as she took in the condition of her mistress. “Forget such talk and tell me, what has happened to you?”

But Laodamia ignored her and pulled the cloak about her more tightly, concealing her wound from her protégée. “Adria, I am fine. You do not need to worry about me.” She then turned again to Adrastus. “I beg of you another promise, General.”

Adrastus could see the light dimming in the great Oracle’s eyes, and he felt a deep pang in his heart at the thought of her death. He knew her from legend, of course, but now that he had sat with her for a time, he found he was oddly heartbroken by the thought of losing her after even so brief an encounter. “Anything,” he told her, wanting her final
moments to be spent in peace. If there was something he could do, another promise to make or oath to take, he would do it.

Laodamia held his hand and closed her eyes. “I wish for my funeral pyre to be lit on this beach,” she said. “Do it when the night is upon you, then take your treasure and the first box Adria crafts, which will contain my second prophecy, to a cave in the foothills of the mountains. The journey there will be long and arduous, but you will escape notice. I have foreseen it, so go there with confidence. Your treasure will be quite safe hidden deep in the cave you choose, but mark the route as I have instructed you, so that those who need to find the Star you wear about your neck, and the box, will see the way.

“When you return, Adria will have finished the rest of the boxes and I will have been reduced to ash. Bury my remains next to those of my beloved, then take Adria with you through the portal to begin hiding the rest of the boxes.”

Adrastus opened his mouth to protest the last bit, and he noticed that Adria was about to do the same, but at that moment Laodamia’s eyes flew open and she looked at each of them sternly. “Vow this to me!”

Adrastus looked at Adria and something passed between them. The general couldn’t have explained what it was, but he suspected it was the first hint of a deeper bond to come. Still, he lowered his gaze and considered for a long while what the Oracle was asking of him. He had accepted the earlier vow because the city he had loved and
was bound by oath to protect was in his enemies’ hands. There was nothing left for him there, and he could hardly return to Greece; the shame of losing Lixus to the Carthaginians would be too great.

Being the Oracle’s Secret Keeper was just the cause he needed, and her faith in him seemed so absolute that he found his spirits lifted and his purpose renewed by accepting the charge. He also felt no pangs about leaving his treasure behind for a time. If the greatest Oracle the world had ever known had stated that it would be safe, then he believed it with absolute certainty. He could always return to retrieve it, and with the cuffs to open the portal any time he commanded, he could move his treasure freely anywhere he chose after his mission was complete.

But bringing along this woman, Adria, well, that was another matter entirely. She was beautiful, of that there was no question, but would she become a burden to him? Not only that, but Laodamia had said they would actually marry! Even though his faith in the Oracle was absolute, this one prediction he chose not to accept.

Adrastus of Lixus was a bachelor at heart, and he had
no
plans to marry anyone. Ever.

But did the Oracle need to know that? Laodamia was not asking him to marry the woman now; she was merely asking him to bring Adria along. And that was a charge he felt he could accept, especially when he remembered that the cuffs would allow him to open the portal at will. If she became too much of a burden, he would simply open the stone wall and push the woman through.

With a sigh, the general resigned himself. “I vow this to you, mistress,” Adrastus finally said, and he heard Adria say the same words at the same time, which he found quite remarkable.

When next he looked at the great Oracle of Delphi, her eyes were still open but no longer stern, a beautiful smile was held across her lips, and the life within her was gone.

I
an Wigby stood rigidly at the foot of a grave with bitterness in his heart. This wasn’t his first visit to the grave site, and he knew it would not be his last.

He’d come here on several occasions over the past eight months, each time finding himself holding the same angry stance.

It was the inscription on the tombstone that most upset him, because it reminded him how close he’d come to having his most earnest questions answered.

Footsteps behind Ian caused him to turn. “Thought I’d find you here,” said a smiling young man with white-blond hair and a tall, thin frame.

Ian sighed and unclenched his fists. “Hello, Carl,” he said.

His best mate came to stand next to him and stare down at the neatly tended grave. “Waiting for those bones to talk again, eh?”

Ian allowed himself a small smile. “Wish that they could,” he said. “It’s just so blasted frustrating.”

Carl nodded knowingly. “We missed having a chat with him by less than a month.”

Ian’s heart felt heavy with regret. “And I had the sundial the whole time, Carl,” he told his friend, using the same words he’d uttered nearly a dozen times since finding the grave. “If only I’d thought to use it sooner!”

The late Errol Wallace was the only person Ian knew of who had ever met the woman who had given birth to him.

Ian’s mother had handed him over as a newborn to the gentle gardener before she’d disappeared behind the wall of the portal, taking her reason for abandoning him and her identity with her.

Ian had heard the story secondhand from the Earl of Kent, who was his patriarch and the overseer of the large orphanage, Delphi Keep, where baby Ian had been taken in. Any further detail about that fateful encounter between Mr. Wallace and Ian’s mother had been taken with the gardener to his grave, and so ended any hope Ian had of ever finding his mother, and any inkling of where he’d come from.

The knowledge left a well of bitterness within him
that he found difficult to reconcile, and hence he often found himself here, standing over the gardener’s grave, stiff and angry at the hand fate had dealt him.

But Carl’s support always helped temper his mood. With a sigh Ian said, “Is the last group ready to leave?”

Carl nodded. “Thought you might like to come back to the keep and say your farewells.”

Ian’s mood turned gloomier. Eight months previous, Germany had invaded Poland; and England, France, and the others in the European alliance had declared war on Germany and its allies. The battles in those eight months had been quite fierce, and both aerial and nautical invasion were constant threats, given the strength of the German armed forces. Children under the age of sixteen from all the port cities across England were being evacuated to safer, more rural areas to live with foster families or other relations, and most of the orphans of Delphi Keep were gradually being moved to farms and homes within Kent’s interior.

The last six orphans, aside from Ian and his band of special friends, were being relocated to Dartford that very morning.

Reluctantly he turned away from the grave site. “Let’s see them off, then,” he said.

The young men hurried out of the graveyard and trotted along the road in the direction of the village proper.

As they neared their home in Dover, the road grew more congested with traffic, clogged mostly by military lorries and marching soldiers.

A few of the military vehicles had bright red crosses on them. “Looks like another shipment of wounded have come in,” Carl remarked.

Ian eyed the lorries grimly. News from the front hadn’t been good. The allies were taking a heavy beating from German and Italian forces, and every day more and more troops were coming back with terrible injuries.

As a port city, Dover had grown quite rapidly into a military outpost, and many of the larger buildings had already been converted to offices and quarters for the armed forces. The earl himself had offered the east wing of Castle Dover as lodgings for some of the higher-ranking officers, and Delphi Keep was being converted to a hospital now that most of the children had been sent into England’s interior.

So much change was taking place all around him that Ian was having difficulty keeping up. “When we get back, mate, you might want to have a talk with Theo,” Carl said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Why?”

“She’s worried about you.”

Ian smiled. Theo was the closest person in the world to him, even closer than Carl. Theo, however, was Ian’s baby sister, even though he knew they weren’t related. She had come to the keep on a terribly stormy night when Ian was five and Theo was two, and Ian had been put in charge of naming her and looking after her. He’d taken that charge quite seriously, although the roles had often been reversed and Theo made sure to look after
him
.

Theo was a very special young lady. She was twelve years old, and well on her way to being forty—or so Madam Dimbleby liked to jest. Extremely mature for her age, Theo was also gifted in a way that many adults had a difficult time accepting, until they’d been around her long enough to see with their own eyes what she could do.

Ian’s little sister was an Oracle, gifted with the ability of sight. She knew things about people that she should not, and she often saw things that had yet to happen.

So when Carl said that Theo was worried about him, Ian paid attention. “What’s she saying?” he asked.

“She didn’t give me the details,” Carl said. “She simply said that she wanted to speak with you because she was terribly worried.”

Ian thought on that for a moment. “Are you sure she wasn’t referring to Madam Dimbleby?”

Theo had quietly told him and Carl that she’d had a most distressing vision about their headmistress. She felt strongly something terrible was going to happen to her. “I’ve seen a grave, Ian,” she’d whispered. “And I know it’s a grave for our headmistress!”

“Are you certain it’s Madam Dimbleby?” he’d pressed. After all, Delphi Keep had two headmistresses: Madam Dimbleby and her cousin, Madam Scargill.

Theo’s face had become pensive. “I believe so,” she’d said. “What I mean is that when I look at Madam Dimbleby, all I can sense is some terrible violence that I’m certain she’ll suffer!”

So without telling the lovely older woman a thing
about Theo’s grave prediction, the three of them had taken turns keeping an eye on Madam Dimbleby as she’d both orchestrated the relocation of Delphi Keep’s orphans and assisted with the many wounded soldiers now filling the space at the keep.

The task of keeping a watchful eye on her was not an easy one, as Madam Dimbleby was a woman with energy to spare. Keeping track of her meant keeping close to her, which further meant making themselves available to the many tasks she charged them with as she bustled through her busy schedule.

She’d thought they’d all been most helpful, however, and Ian admitted to himself she’d also been running them quite ragged.

“I suppose once we say our farewells to the others, we can find Theo and relieve her of the duty of watching Madam Dimbleby,” he said to Carl.

Carl sighed dramatically. “That woman will be the death of me.” But Ian saw that he wore a mischievous smile.

It began to rain then and Ian and Carl quickened their pace. At one point they had to wait to cross the street until a large uncovered vehicle passed. Carl slapped Ian’s arm excitedly. “Look!” he said, pointing. “Germans!”

Ian peered at the passing lorry and noted that it did contain a group of about a dozen men in German uniform, sitting with their hands bound and wearing miserable expressions.

“I bet they were the ones captured from that German U-boat!”

The day before, word had spread that a German U-boat, skulking its way through the channel, had had a severe mechanical malfunction, which had forced it to surface within several hundred feet of a British patrol ship.

What had been most shocking of all, however, was that the German command aboard the ship had rigged the boat with explosives and sunk it rather than allowing the advanced submarine technology to fall into enemy hands. Most aboard had been drowned when the U-boat sank, but several men had been pulled out of the water and captured. Ian knew they would be brought to Dover for interrogation by the admiral in charge of these waters, although Ian doubted they’d give anything up.

“It looks like they’re being taken to Castle Dover,” Ian remarked.

Carl became even more excited. “Let’s try to get a closer look at them!”

Ian was about to protest; after all, the year before, he’d had several very close and nearly fatal encounters with the enemy. But Carl had already started running after the lorry carrying the Germans. Ian had no choice but to chase after him.

Given the heavy traffic along the road, Ian and Carl had no trouble keeping up with the prisoners all the way to the castle.

As they drew closer, they could see that the lorry containing the Germans had pulled to a stop right next to a small bus, which several orphans from Delphi Keep were being loaded onto. Ian was relieved to see that Madam
Dimbleby was assisting the children. If she was there, then Theo must be close by.

Ian and Carl, quite out of breath by then, shuffled over to stand near Madam Dimbleby, who was a bit teary as she helped the children. “There you go, Jasper,” she said, guiding one young boy with a slight limp up the steps of the bus. “There’s room in the back for you.”