Perry stepped in front of Ian and Theo. Again, he took up his fencing stance and announced, “These children are subjects of His Majesty the King of England! They are not commodities to be bought and sold by the likes of you!”
Magus showed his jagged, fanglike teeth and whispered harshly, “Oh, but we are not in England, young man. We are in the badlands of Morocco, and when in Rome …” His voice trailed off ominously.
Quick as a flash, Perry whirled around and sliced through the side of the tent with the scimitar, creating a large tear. “Jaaved!” Perry commanded. “Allez!” Glancing at Ian, he said, “Go with Jaaved. The professor and I will join you later!”
Ian didn’t hesitate. He dashed with Theo and Jaaved through the hole in the tent.
Outside, all around them, were screams from both man and horse and the clanging of metal. Ian felt dizzy with all the chaos, but he grabbed Theo’s hand and tore after Jaaved, who was running away, ducking low and keeping to the cover of the surrounding tents.
They wound their way through the camp and the hordes of fighting men. And it was clear to Ian that most of the dead were Jstor. It seemed the Jichmach were too much for them, and Ian winced as he watched Jaaved run between the bodies of his brethren.
After a few more close calls with scimitars, horses, and warriors, the trio reached the edge of the encampment, shaken and distraught. With one last worried glance over his shoulder, Jaaved led them quickly away and into the darkness beyond.
THE SEEKER
I an, Theo, and Jaaved ran for their lives, hiding when they could behind outcroppings of boulders, getting ever closer to the foothills. Finally, they made one final dash and reached the relative safety of the caves.
Ian could see as they approached that there were several dozen openings along a large expanse of rock that shot straight up. He followed Jaaved as he ducked into one, and pulled Theo along inside after the Moroccan boy.
Ian collapsed on the ground, panting like a dog on all fours, and Theo dropped to her knees beside him, holding her side. Ian’s feet throbbed so painfully from the running and the rocky terrain they’d just covered, he wondered if they would ever return to normal.
He gasped, “We should move as far into this cave as possible. I don’t want that Magus character or one of those Jichmach tribesmen finding us.” Jaaved looked at him quizzically, and Ian pointed to the back of the cave.
As they made their way deeper into the cavern, the light from the moon outside became dimmer and dimmer and the group had to feel their way along, whispering so as not to lose track of one another.
Finally, when they had crept well away from the opening and were deeply nestled in the blackness of the back of the cave, Ian announced, “We should be safe here,” and he gave Theo a small tug on her blouse. She dropped to the cold stone floor and Jaaved took her cue and sat beside Theo. Ian also dropped and leaned his head back against the cave wall, straining to hear any sounds. He could no longer hear the commotion from the camp, and he felt that the quiet was somehow eeriest of all.
As time passed Ian became aware of first Theo’s and then Jaaved’s heavy breathing and he knew that exhaustion had won out against them. But try as he might, and as tired as he was, Ian could not doze off. In his whole life he had never, ever felt so exhausted, yet his mind was full of the nightmare from that evening. He had no idea what had happened to Carl and Thatcher or to Perry and the professor in the face of the powerful Druid sorcerer.
Eventually, however, in the wee hours of the morning, his mind finally allowed him the briefest moment of silence, and he was mercifully able to close his eyes and fall into a troubled slumber.
Ian awoke soon after dawn. He blinked blearily as the sun’s rays reached him all the way in the back of the cave, and he stared numbly about. In the dimness he could just make out Theo’s head leaning on his shoulder and Jaaved next to her, curled up on the cave floor.
Ian yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was still sore and tired, but now he was thirsty and hungry too. Carefully, he laid Theo gently on the ground, giving her his shirt for a pillow. He shivered in the coolness of the cave and moved carefully toward the mouth, keeping in the shadows lest someone had made his way into the cave while they were sleeping.
No one was about, so he continued forward until he was at the opening and could clearly see across the hills. Smoke billowed from their campsite, and in the dirt he could just discern the figures of the dead lying on the ground. A wave of emotion swept over him; the professor, Perry, Thatcher, and Carl might well be among the casualties. He turned away miserably and walked back to Theo and Jaaved, then sat down heavily. He hadn’t ever felt so sad before, and he struggled to hold back the anguish that wanted to pour out of him.
Wordlessly, Jaaved got up and walked past him. Ian didn’t try to stop him. Jaaved had family at the camp, and Ian couldn’t blame him for wanting to see for himself if any of his fellow tribesmen had survived.
Ian sat and waited patiently for Jaaved to return. Just as he was beginning to get concerned, Jaaved appeared again in the cave’s entrance. And to the lifting of Ian’s spirits, he carried with him the two backpacks that had been taken from them at Jifaar’s house, along with two canteens of water and a satchel of food. The Moroccan boy, however, was wearing a look of such deep sorrow that Ian couldn’t help feeling bad for him.
“You went to the camp,” he said as Jaaved set the back-packs down.
Jaaved didn’t respond, and Ian hadn’t expected him to. Instead, Jaaved handed Ian one of the canteens and made a motion to drink. Just as Ian took the canteen from him, he saw a horrible burn on the bottom of Jaaved’s palm. “Blimey!” said Ian loudly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Theo, startled out of her sleep.
“Jaaved’s hurt,” Ian said as he took the boy’s hand in his and turned it gently up to inspect. Then he took the canteen and poured a bit of water on Jaaved’s wound.
“Let me see,” said Theo as she got up and came over to look at it. “Oh, heavens!” she exclaimed.
“I know,” said Ian, looking in sympathy at Jaaved. “That must have hurt,” he added, making an expression like he was in pain so that Jaaved knew he felt bad for him. “You must have picked up something hot?”
But Jaaved didn’t understand and he cocked his head at Ian.
Ian mimed touching his finger to something that burned, and Jaaved nodded. The Moroccan then pantomimed holding a sword out in front of him before opening his hands wide and shaking the one he’d injured as if he’d touched something hot. Ian nodded as he grasped what Jaaved was showing him.
“What do you think happened?” Theo asked, puzzled by their game of charades.
“I think he was trying to pick up a sword that had been burned in one of the fires and it was hotter than he thought,” said Ian.
Theo reached for Jaaved’s hand to inspect his wound again, then gasped. “Ian!” she exclaimed. “Look at the wound closely!”
Ian peered down at Jaaved’s burn and immediately noticed that the horrible bumpy blister marring Jaaved’s palm had a distinct shape to it. As Ian squinted closer, he realized that it was in the form of a diamond, just like the one on the hilt of Raajhi’s scimitar. “The mark from your premonition!” he said, gazing at Theo in amazement.
Theo was pumping her head up and down, but Jaaved was eyeing the pair of them as if they were ridiculous to be so happy about his wound. He roughly yanked his hand away from Ian and started to turn his back on them. But Theo moved quickly to Jaaved’s side and took his hand in hers. She pantomimed wrapping it in a bandage, then turned to Ian and said, “Can you help me tear off a bit of cloth from my blouse to wrap his hand?”
Ian looked from her dirty but otherwise unmarred shirt to his own shirt, which was in tatters, still lying crumpled on the floor where he’d set it for Theo’s pillow. With a smirk, Ian picked up his shirt and tore off a length, then handed it to her so that she could wrap it around Jaaved’s hand carefully.
Ian th
en put his tattered shirt back on and turned back toward the opening of the cave.
“He went to the Jichmach’s camp to bring us back some supplies,” Ian explained to Theo when he saw her gaze fall on the backpacks.
Theo’s eyes lit up. “Did he find the professor? Or Thatcher and Perry? Carl?”
Ian looked at Jaaved. He was aware that their guide knew their companions by name, and when the Moroccan faced them again, Ian’s heart sank at Jaaved’s grief-stricken face. He felt like he’d just been kicked in the stomach. He watched Jaaved dully as their guide turned away from them and began busying himself by digging around in the back-packs. After a few moments he pulled out Ian’s pocket torch and compass amd handed them to him, but Ian felt little joy at the return of his possessions. Next Jaaved dug into his own small sack and produced three portions of smoked meat, offering one each to Theo and Ian.
Theo took hers without looking at it and Ian saw small tears trickling down her cheeks.
Jaaved looked at Theo when she began crying, and it seemed to undo him. He moved to the back of the cave, sat down, then leaned his back against the wall and pulled his knees up close before he hid his chin in his chest and was lost in his emotion. Theo crept close to him and the two cried together.
As Ian watched them, he found that he was breathing hard and had a very difficult time swallowing. He knew he should go over and at least try to comfort Theo, but his own grief was suddenly so heavy that he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t able to sit there and be strong in the face of the loss he felt, but he also realized that it wouldn’t do to break down in front of the others. So wordlessly he walked past the pair, deeper into the rock enclosure.
“I’ll be back,” he said hoarsely before switching on his torch and moving even farther into the cave. When he was far enough away that he was certain Jaaved and Theo couldn’t hear him, he clicked off his light, letting the darkness of the cave envelop him, and cried bitter tears.
A long while later, when Ian was spent of his emotions, he sat on the floor and looked out at the darkness hopelessly. He wondered how he and Theo were ever going to find their way back to Delphi. And if they did, how would they explain what had happened? Who would believe such a story? How would they explain what had become of Thatcher, Perry, the professor, and Carl?
He sat dumbly and stared at the blackness for a long time, clicking his light on and off, his thoughts bleak and his spirit crushed. Finally, he clicked his pocket torch on one final time, preparing to get back to Theo and Jaaved, when he noticed something peculiar caught in the light’s beam. On the wall opposite him and down to his right, he noticed dark squiggles and lines. Ian got to his feet, moved to the opposite wall, and looked closely at the shapes, tracing them with his finger. “Incredible,” he said, taking one step back so that his light could better illuminate the wall. “I can’t believe it!” he nearly shouted before turning to race back down the path he’d taken. He found Jaaved and Theo sitting back to back, staring listlessly into space, much like he’d just been doing. “Jaaved! Theo!” he called excitedly. “Come quick! I’ve got to show you something!”
They scrambled to their feet and hurried after him. The deeper into the cave they went, the more narrow the opening became. Ian managed to find the exact spot he’d been sitting in when his torch had lit on the writing. “Look, Theo!” he said as he shone his light onto the wall. “Does it seem familiar to you?”
“It’s just like the writing in the cavern back in Dover!” Theo said, pressing her hand to the wall.
“Exactly! Come on. I’ll bet you there’s something at the end of this cave! Maybe there’s another silver box with a scroll, and maybe we can trade the box for enough money to get us home!”
Jaaved gave each of them a confused look but followed dutifully as Ian and Theo made their way deeper into the cave. Before long Ian was ducking low, and then so was Jaaved, and finally Theo was bent over. “Ian,” she said to him. “This tunnel keeps getting shorter and shorter!”
“Yes, but see that?” Ian said, pointing at the wall to his right. “Someone wrote that, Theo. And I’m sure it’s a marker to keep going.”
The threesome continued on, soon reduced to crawling, and abruptly they came to a sharp fork in the tunnel and the cave headed off into two directions. The one on the right appeared to be easier to travel; there was a dip into what looked like a larger cavern with more headroom. The one on the left became narrower still.
“Which way?” Theo asked as she crawled up next to Ian.
“Well, right seems most likely. I mean, I can’t imagine that anyone would choose to go into such a narrow space when something roomier is at hand.”
Ian moved toward the right and Jaaved yelled out, “Non!”
Both Ian and Theo turned to look at Jaaved, who was pointing toward the left tunnel. “Allez à la gauche!”
“He wants us to go to the left,” said Theo.
Ian hesitated only a moment, but two things came back to him: Laodamia’s words from the prophecy about the Seeker guiding them deep in stone, and Theo’s vision of the boy with the diamond mark. He decided to trust Jaaved, and with a shrug he led the way into the narrower tunnel.
The threesome were able to crawl a while longer before the ceiling forced Ian to lay flat on the ground and pull himself along with his arms, which was difficult, as he was trying to hold the torch out in front of him to guide them with some light. “I must be daft,” he said, panting, irritated that he’d listened to the Moroccan. “There’s no way someone would have come this way, Jaaved! We should have gone to the …” Ian’s voice trailed off, because in front of him, the floor sloped drastically downward and a huge cavern opened up.
“Oh, my,” he heard Theo say from behind. “Ian! Look at that!”
Excitedly, he squirmed his way forward and half rolled, half crawled into the cavern. As he stood, he flashed his torch all around and gasped. Everywhere his torch beam touched, it glinted off treasure.
In his amazement, Ian had almost forgotten about Theo and Jaaved until Jaaved’s yelp broke the silence. “Trésor!” their guide yelled, and ran to a hill of gold on the floor.
Theo too went to a pile and happily picked up huge fistfuls of gold coins. “Ian! We’re rich!” she squealed. “We can get back to England now!”
Ian sat down heavily on the ground, dumbstruck. They could buy passage back to England, and with this much treasure, he could ensure that he and Theo would never be separated. He could purchase them a house to live in, even hire a governess to look after them until they became old enough to take care of themselves. All the hopelessness he’d experienced that morning seemed to fade away as he looked at Theo dancing atop a mound of gold.
A smile formed on his lips just as his torch noticeably dimmed. “Bugger!” he muttered, shaking the light as it flickered again. “Theo! Jaaved!” he said, turning to them. “Grab as much of the treasure as you can carry and hurry after me. The light on my torch won’t last much longer, and we’ve got to be out of this tunnel before it dies completely!”
Theo hurriedly bent down and began stuffing her shirt with gold coins. Jaaved stood with a confused look on his face as he watched Theo, until Ian pointed to his torch, which flickered again. Jaaved suddenly seemed to understand. He turned and began grabbing fistfuls of gold and jewels himself.
Ian held his small torch in his mouth while he grabbed as much as he could. Glancing to his left, he was caught completely by surprise. Moving over to one of the rocky ledges, he couldn’t believe what he saw: a silver box identical to the one he’d left at the keep. It had to be another of Laodamia’s. He set the gold in his hands down quickly and grabbed the box, gazing at it in the dimming light of his torch. Making a snap decision, he shoved the box into the waistband of his trousers and gathered up his two handfuls of gold again, tying them in his shirttails, then shoved fistfuls into his pockets. He wanted to carry out as much gold as he could, but as his torch gave yet another flicker, Ian realized they should really mak
e their way out of the darkness while they still had light. He gazed longingly at all the gold they would be leaving behind and tried not to be bitter. Instead, he focused on getting them safely back out before his torch died for good. “Come on, you two,” he said. “Let’s head back.”
Ian held his torch between his teeth again and crawled along on his forearms, as his fists were full of gold. The skin on his arms became so raw that he winced with each painful reach forward, but he refused to leave behind any coin he’d carried out. Soon they’d made it to where they could crawl along on their hands and knees, and Ian’s heart raced when his light dimmed even more. Squinting in the grayness of the tunnel, he felt a note of relief when they came to the fork. He moved even faster and grunted to Theo and Jaaved, hoping they understood the need to hurry.
Just as they made it to the point of being able to crouch low on two feet again, Ian’s torch went out completely and plunged them all into absolute blackness. He opened his mouth and spit his light to the ground.
“What do we do?” Theo asked from behind him, her voice anxious.
“Put your hand on my back, and have Jaaved do the same. I’ll go slowly, okay?”
“Okay,” said Theo.
“Okay,” said Jaaved.
Ian stopped. “What did he say?” he asked, turning to look back into the blackness behind him, thinking that maybe he had misheard Jaaved.
“I said okay,” Jaaved repeated.
Ian and Theo both gasped in surprise. “Jaaved!” Theo said. “You spoke English!”
“I did?” he said. “When?”
“Just now!” Ian said, then realized that the Moroccan boy must have been lying all this time. “When did you learn to speak English?” he asked carefully.
Jaaved didn’t respond right away, but after a moment he said, “I never learned to speak English. You must be speaking French!”
Ian shook his head in frustration but decided to argue about it later. At the moment they had more pressing issues. “Fine, have it your way,” he said impatiently. “Just follow closely behind Theo.”