Carl, finally free of the helmet, blinked several times, trying to get his bearings. “What’s the matter?” he asked when he finally noticed Ian standing there with wide, horrified eyes.
“That!” whispered Ian, pointing urgently.
Carl glanced to his right and let out a terrific scream as he came face to face with the hollowed-out eyes of a human skull.
Carl flew forward, grabbed Ian’s arm, and whipped him around. “Run!” he yelled.
Ian’s feet finally agreed to move—and move fast. He raced past Carl as if his life depended on it. He’d suddenly found his voice too, letting out his own terrified scream, which, along with Carl’s, reverberated off the stone walls. Ian raced up the stairs with Carl hot on his heels and neither boy slowed down as they crashed through the forest, back to the hilltop where they’d first paused to look at the map.
There, Ian finally collapsed on the grass, panting hard as he felt Carl thump to the ground next to him. Long seconds passed before Ian sat up and glanced at his friend. Carl was staring at the sky, his chest heaving and his right hand still gripping the helmet from the tunnel.
“Hey,” said Ian, motioning to the helmet, “how did you manage to run so fast with that in your hands?”
Carl panted another beat or two before he glanced sideways at his hand, then sat up quickly and tossed the helmet away with an “Ahhhh!” For emphasis, Carl kicked it.
“Wait!” Ian said, reaching out to catch the helmet before Carl could do any real damage. “Don’t ruin it!”
“It fell off that … that … thing!” Carl said, scrunching up his face and shuddering.
By now Ian had regained his composure and was genuinely curious about what he’d seen. “Yes,” he agreed. “But who do you think he was?”
“Who cares?” screeched Carl. “Ian, did you see those bones? He was … he was …” Carl was at a loss for words.
“Cemented into the wall!” said Ian. He’d never seen anything like it and now that he was over his initial fright, he found it fascinating.
“Yes! Cemented, that’s a good way to describe it,” Carl agreed.
“How is that even possible?” Ian wondered.
Carl shivered and stood up. “I knew going into that tunnel was a bad idea,” he grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you it was a bad idea?”
“No,” Ian said. “You didn’t.”
Carl glared at him while he dusted himself off. “Well, I meant to say it. We never should have gone in there!” he added with another shiver.
Ian got to his feet as well, lifting up the helmet. “We’ll need to hide this for now,” he said, thinking that they couldn’t very well show up at the keep with another ancient artifact. Ian was quite certain that he’d get into a load of trouble if he admitted to exploring more tunnels.
“For now?” Carl asked, looking at Ian like he’d just grown an extra head. “Toss that thing off the side of the cliffs, I say!”
Ian gave him a level look. “Carl,” he said reasonably, “this could be another ancient artifact. It could be worth loads of money! It could mean that you and I will have a bit of cash for the years after we leave Delphi Keep!”
Carl was still glaring at him, but Ian could see a small bit of cracking in his resolve, so he continued his argument. “Besides,” Ian said, “this helmet is another clue linking us back to the box and the map and that scroll. Did you ever consider that the soldier who wore this helmet might be the same person who left the silver box in the tunnel? This could be the way for me to clear my name! If the schoolmasters see that skeleton with their own eyes, they’ll know I had nothing to do with that writing on the wall or hiding the box in the tunnel. It could be the proof we need to remove any doubt about this being a hoax!”
Carl crossed his arms and his scowl deepened. “Lot of good it did that bloke back there to leave you that box,” he muttered. “I expect if that thing embedded in the wall down there had to do it all over again, he’d have chosen tossing that box off the cliffs too! I say we go back and tell Madam Dimbleby She’ll tell the earl, who can seal off that tunnel and all the others for good!”
Ian sighed. Carl was more stubborn than he’d thought. “How about this …,” he said. “We’ll tell the schoolmasters about it, but we’ll do it privately, and we’ll bring them down here so they can explore our discovery themselves.”
“Look, mate,” Carl said, puffing up his chest. He was a good two inches shorter than Ian, but that didn’t stop him from trying to stand up to his new friend. “That unfortunate bloke down there died in that wall likely after he went exploring places. You almost died when you first found the box exploring that tunnel. Then we almost died when the beast came after us because you’d gone exploring near its lair. All that this exploring has brought us is a load of trouble and I, for one, have had quite enough of it!”
But Ian was undeterred. He would tell the schoolmasters about the helmet and bring them down to the tunnel to show them the soldier’s remains with or without Carl. Maybe once they’d seen it with their own eyes, they’d believe that he had nothing to do with the writing on the wall or putting the map inside the silver box. “Come on,” he said, ruffling Carl’s hair good-naturedly. “Help me find a hiding place. I promise that once I get the schoolmasters alone, I’ll tell them about what we’ve found.”
Carl groused some more but eventually he helped Ian locate the perfect-sized nook between some large boulders where the helmet could be hidden. “Thanks, mate,” Ian said after he’d covered the helmet with some grass and dried twigs to further conceal it.
“Don’t mention it,” said Carl with a frown before adding, “ever again!”
Ian laughed and motioned toward the road leading to the village. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll have to run to the village and hope there isn’t a queue at the bakery.”
Ian and Carl hurried to fetch the bread Madam Dimbleby had sent them for, and quickly made their way back to Delphi Keep. Puffing with effort, their arms loaded with bread, they returned to the kitchen, where Ian was surprised to find Schoolmaster Thatcher sitting at the small table by the pantry, sipping tea and chatting with Madam Dimbleby “Hello, boys,” he greeted them.
“Sir,” Ian and Carl said together as they handed the loaves over to Madam Dimbleby.
“It’s about time you two got back,” she said to them. “I was about to send Master Goodwyn here out to look for you.”
“There was a queue at the bakery,” said Ian. He didn’t elaborate about it being only two deep.
“I see,” she said with a suspicious look. “Well, as long as you’re here, you might as well help me carve the loaves for the table. Knives are in the drawer, and you’ll want to make sure we have enough slices for all the children plus Schoolmaster Goodwyn, Madam Scargill, and me.”
Ian let go a sigh of relief that she didn’t question them further about taking so long and he nudged Carl in the direction of the hooks at the back of the kitchen, where the children put up their coats.
“And wash your hands first, boys,” added Madam Dimbleby over her shoulder before the boys could begin their work.
As they hurried to the sink and got to it, they couldn’t help overhearing their headmistress and Thatcher continue the conversation the boys had interrupted.
As he and Carl laid out the bread and fetched the knives, Ian listened in.
“This Professor Nutley has offered to pay the boys for their help cleaning up his flat?” she asked.
“Yes, Madam,” Thatcher answered. “And I daresay it would be a wonderful opportunity for them. The professor was a favorite of mine at Cambridge. He was one of the best archaeologists of his time and would be nothing but a positive influence on the lads.”
“I suppose it’s all right,” Madam Dimbleby said as she stirred the gravy. Ian smiled excitedly at Carl, who grinned back until Madam said, “I just worry about them running amuck in London.”
“I will be happy to accompany them,” Thatcher said. “It would provide me
with the chance to visit with the professor. Besides, there’s still the matter of ferreting out the truth of where the scroll and the box came from.” Carl glanced up, looking like he was about to let slip what they’d discovered that afternoon but Ian cleared his throat and gave Carl a warning look. Carl quickly focused back on the bread.
“Something wrong, Ian?” Madam asked, and Ian realized she was looking at him expectantly.
“Ma’am?” he asked.
“Your throat, is it bothering you?”
Ian felt himself blush. “Oh, no, ma’am. Just a bit cool today—and perhaps I’m not used to the weather yet.”
Madam’s eyes were suspicious again but she turned back to the sink and said, “It is unseasonably cold for September, isn’t it?”
“The newspaper said it’s even colder in London,” Thatcher added. “Did you hear there was a frost there yesterday morning?”
“Really?” Madam Dimbleby said. “How strange!”
“Exactly,” said Thatcher. “And some poor urchin girl apparently suffered for it.”
Ian looked up from cutting the bread. He noticed the hairs on his arms had stood up, and he got the sense that something very bad had happened. “What girl?” asked Madam Dimbleby.
“A young homeless girl was found in an alleyway, frozen solid, if you can believe it.”
“That’s terrible!” Madam exclaimed with a shudder that Ian felt as well.
“Yes, quite tragic. I know the earl would hate to read that.”
Madam tsked as she peeled the potatoes. “Poor lass,” she said, and the kitchen was quiet for several long moments.
Madam Dimbleby was the first to break the silence. “Well, then I suppose it’s fine if the boys want to earn a bit of extra money and help out the professor. It’s Theo’s request to visit with Lady Arbuthnot that I’m hesitant about.”
“I assure you,” said Thatcher, “the earl’s aunt is harmless. And she seemed quite authentic too.” Ian smiled as he worked. He was glad Thatcher was sticking up for the earl’s aunt, as he knew that Theo was excited to go back and talk with her again.
“Your brother doesn’t share your enthusiasm,” remarked Madam Dimbleby.
“He’s already talked to you about it, has he?”
“Yes. He stopped by early this morning before service. He knew you intended to talk to me about taking the boys to London, which he also approved of, but he wanted to caution me about sending Theo along to Lady Arbuthnot’s. He said she was full of parlor tricks and it didn’t bode well to have a young lady influenced by such things.”
“Madam Dimbleby,” said Thatcher, setting his teacup on the counter, “I must tell you that Perry is far more a man of science than he is a man of faith. I know that what happened at Lady Arbuthnot’s was certainly no parlor trick. But I can’t really explain why I believe that. I do consider Theo gifted in the same way as the earl’s aunt. And I believe that her gifts frighten her to the point of becoming ill. If the lady can help her harness these gifts in such a way as not to cause the girl further upset, then I say it’s worth considering letting her attend these Saturday visits.”
Ian felt himself relax. He was starting to like his new schoolmaster very much and he exchanged a knowing look with Carl while the pair arranged the bread they’d sliced in the baskets for the table. Ian hoped Thatcher was right about Lady Arbuthnot’s ability to help calm Theo. She had to learn how to make sense of her abilities before anyone else wanted to send her off to the sanitarium.
Madam Dimbleby turned to the boys. “Ian,” she said, “what did you make of Lady Arbuthnot?”
“She seemed very nice,” Ian answered carefully. “She served us tea and biskies and didn’t mind if we had seconds.” The truth was he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the lady’s abilities. His interaction with her had been a bit unsettling with all that doom-and-gloom stuff. But he didn’t want to sway Madam Dimbleby with this, so he stuck to discussing the lady’s hospitality.
Madam Dimbleby smiled. She knew he was dodging the question. “Carl?” she asked. “How did you find the earl’s aunt?”
Carl’s mouth opened wide with excitement as he answered, “She was brilliant, ma’am! She told me about me mum and she even knew her by name! The lady also said that she knew I’d had a rough go of it before the earl found me and brought me here, and she expected things should be a bit easier for me from now on.”
“So you believe she has a gift?”
Carl nodded earnestly. “Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said. “I really, really do.” Ian smiled at his friend, grateful that Carl could be such an enthusiastic voice.
And Carl’s positive endorsement seemed to decide it for Madam Dimbleby “All right, then,” she said to Thatcher. “I shall allow Theo to go to her lessons on Saturday with Lady Arbuthnot, but I should like to accompany her for the first few visits, to see for myself that she’s not being unduly influenced.”
“Very good, Madam,” said Thatcher happily. “That sounds like the perfect solution.”
WATER ON THE HEARTH
The next Saturday, Madam Dimbleby, Thatcher, Ian, Carl, and Theo all stepped from the train, which deposited them again at Victoria Station in central London. Just like before, the streets were bustling with energy. Ian thought there were even more people about than on their last visit.
Thatcher attempted to hail a hackney cab but there were none available. Finally, Madam Dimbleby said, “Come, Master Goodwyn, the walk shall do us some good and warm our bones in this chilly weather.”
The group kept a brisk pace as they marched through London’s busy streets, and Ian decided that he preferred taking in the city as a pedestrian, because the ride in the motorcar had gone by too fast.
Theo trotted alongside Madam Dimbleby, who was just behind Thatcher, and Ian and Carl brought up the rear. When they could finally speak without being overheard, Carl leaned over to Ian and asked quietly, “Are you going to tell Schoolmaster Goodwyn about the helmet today?”
Ian flinched. He knew that he should have told the schoolmaster earlier in the week, but there always seemed to be someone about, and he felt certain that revealing that he and Carl had been in another tunnel would not go over well with either of his headmistresses. “If I can get him alone,” he said.
“We can tell him after we drop off Theo and Madam Dimbleby,” said Carl reasonably. “Speaking of which, I hope we get a chance to see the lady. I’d like to ask her something.”
Ian didn’t ask his friend what he wanted of the earl’s aunt, because his head was suddenly filled with troubled thoughts. He needed a reason to convince his schoolmaster not to tell the headmistresses of his most recent exploration. He knew that the earl was likely to hear of it at some point, but he was convinced that if Madam Scargill found out, she would insist on a severe punishment for him that was likely to include lost meals, a turn at the switch, and a restriction in his room for several weeks. He wondered if the earl might also be disappointed to learn that Ian was back to his old tricks again.
Ian walked along with these turbulent ideas and searched his mind for a plausible reason to offer his school-master when suddenly he heard Theo exclaim, “Look! Up there! See who it is?” Ian’s head snapped up and he realized with surprise that Professor Nutley was walking directly toward them.
“Professor!” said Thatcher, shortening the distance between them to greet his old friend. “We were just coming to see you.”
Ian noticed that the professor looked a bit taken aback at first but seemed to recover himself as Madam Dimbleby was introduced and the boys gave their hellos.
“I’m afraid I thought you were coming later in the morning,” the professor explained. “I’m on an errand to Blythe House,” he said. “It’s part of the Victoria and Albert Museum. I’ve got some archival records there that I’ll need for our discussion later on.” Ian and Carl exchanged a look and shrugged. Neither boy knew what the professor was talking about.
“Ah,” said Thatcher, and Ian could tell he
didn’t know how to respond. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the schoolmaster said, “We were just on our way to drop off Madam Dimbleby and Miss Fields at Lady Arbuthnot’s flat only a block away. Would you like for us to join you at the museum afterward?”
But before the professor had a chance to reply, Madam Dimbleby said, “Oh, my, Master Goodwyn, Theo and I can certainly make our way to Lady Arbuthnot’s on our own. Why don’t you and the boys run along with Professor Nutley and assist him in retrieving his records?”
The professor looked uncomfortable as he eyed Ian and Carl. “Thatcher, my good man, I really could use your assistance, but the archival records room is off-limits to children. Might the boys accompany you, Madam, and we can retrieve them on our way back?”
Ian’s shoulders sagged. He’d been quite excited by the prospect of going to the museum.
“Of course, of course,” answered Madam Dimbleby. “Ian, Carl,” she said over her shoulder, “come along with us to Lady Arbuthnot’s and your schoolmaster will fetch you after his errand.”
“All right,” groused Ian, and Theo gave him a sympathetic smile. She knew he’d prefer a museum over the lady’s parlor. But Carl seemed very excited and he bounced along.
They gave their quick farewells to Thatcher and the professor and continued on to the earl’s aunt’s. Ian hoped she wouldn’t be offended that Madam Dimbleby had insisted on attending Theo’s lessons. As they climbed the stairs to her distinct blue door, he reasoned that if Lady Arbuthnot took issue with Madam Dimbleby’s presence, she could always take it up with her nephew.
Ian arrived at the top of the stairs first and waited until Madam Dimbleby was beside him before he reached up to use the large brass knocker. Before he could even touch it, however, the door was pulled open by Lady Arbuthnot’s maid, Bessie. “Hello, Ian, Carl, and of course, Theo,” she said happily as she peered out at them. “Lady Arbuthnot’s very excited about your visit today, young lady.” She focused next on the headmistress. “And you must be Madam Dimbleby!”