Mythology Abroad (20 page)

“I feel great,” Keith insisted, smiling brilliantly at her. He made his way unsteadily into the house.

“Is that you, Keith dear?” Mrs. Mackenzie called from the sitting room.

Keith cleared his throat with difficulty. He remembered he hadn’t had anything to drink in hours. “Yes, ma’am.”

The door to the front room swung open. Instead of the patient face of Mrs. Mackenzie, Keith was confronted with the furious countenance of Miss Anderson. Professor Parker appeared under her arm, and studied Keith with sympathetic eyes. Keith goggled at them.

“Where have you been?” the teacher demanded. “I have had the Educatours office calling every few hours wondering if you had been found! When you hadn’t reported to the site for two days or been seen by any of the others, I came here. Mrs. Mackenzie told me that young Holl had been beside himself because you took it into your head to go wandering in the moonlight two days ago. Your irresponsibility has caused a great deal of inconvenience and worry for a lot of people. I’ve been concerned for you, too, but the contract you signed specified that you would behave with care because Educatours is responsible for your welfare while you are part of one of our groups!”

Keith tried to explain where he had been, with an occasional astounded glance back at the Elf Master, who was standing in the doorway, out of the line of fire. He still couldn’t believe the little teacher was there with him. Miss Anderson let him get out half a sentence, and then started her lecture off anew. Educatours couldn’t be responsible for such inconsideration. If he had been seriously hurt or killed, the company was liable for damages to Keith’s family.

He waited for her to run down, and tried to apologize when she paused for breath. “I got lost, Miss Anderson. I’m sorry. I don’t know this area at all.” He started to put down the bit of old stick in his hand. Holl reached out to take it from him, but Professor Parker beat him to it with a swift grab that surprised both of them.

“Miss Anderson!” the archaeologist yelped. “Look here!” With careful fingers, he brushed away the traces of mud caking the flat stick. A pattern of lines began to emerge. “Forgive me making a mess of your rug, Mrs. Mackenzie,” Parker said without looking up. “What a wonder! It’s a comb! Horn, with sawn bone teeth inset. Dear, dear, dear, look at it! This is a very important find. It’s contemporary to the Cairns, I’m certain of it, and in such fine shape. Yes, look at those markings. How fortunate it isn’t broken.”

Miss Anderson stopped her tirade, and looked down curiously at the object the professor was holding. “Keith, where did you find this?”

“In a … a streambed,” Keith said carefully, not wanting to explain how his adventure actually began. “I guess I forgot I was holding it.”

“He found the underground tunnel system on the shores west of here,” Holl explained, pointing out the location on his map for the two Big People. “He must have become turned around down there after he found it.”

“That was very dangerous,” Miss Anderson said sternly. She had been somewhat appeased by the find of the comb, but was still concerned for her company. “Even if you are an expert spelunker, you could have died down there.”

“I was fine, until one of the tunnels flooded behind me,” Keith said truthfully, hoping he appeared to be more of a hero than he looked. His stained and torn clothes looked even more pitiful in daylight than he had feared. His jaw was aching in the cool air, and his eyes were going nuts trying to keep out the blinding light of midday.

“Off you go to bed, then,” Miss Anderson ordered. “I will tell everyone that you are back. Everyone has missed you greatly. I hope we can expect you back on the site in a day or so? Going into caverns without a helmet, hmp!”

She exited magnificently. Parker followed her out, chuckling and cooing over the comb, now cradled protectively in a handkerchief.

Stripping off his sodden, torn clothes, Keith staggered through a hot shower and collapsed into his bed. The softness of the mattress and pillow came up to meet his shoulders and head. He scrunched his fingers into the clean sheets, and grinned with pure pleasure.

“No moss,” he said happily.

Holl sat on the edge of the other bed and watched his Big friend’s face. “Mrs. Mackenzie has bought the story that you went treasure hunting for the dig and lost yourself, my lad, and she’s making you tea and a hot meal. Now, what really happened to you?”

With the help of a pad of paper and a pencil, and a lot of humorous sallies at his expense by Holl, Keith managed to explain his problems while avoiding any references to the three conditions of the curse. He discovered he couldn’t actually mention the curse either, but Holl guessed the problem from the context.

“You’ve come to no real harm,” Holl announced at last, very amused. “What a thing for a lad like you to be unable to speak of three of the pleasures in life. But a typical Gaelic curse. Those …
bodach
have a sense of humor.”

“I don’t think that could have been a
bodach
. They’re supposed to be beneficent, and this one sure wasn’t,” Keith said emphatically. “Ooch.” He clutched his jaw.

“‘
Bodach
’ means not only ‘old man,’ but ‘spectre’ or ‘bugbear,’ if you’d read up on the Gaelic, Keith Doyle. In any case, it was something that you Big Folk can’t classify with ease. And why do you expect beneficence, surprising a millennia-old hermit entity with a flash camera in the middle of the night?” Holl was enormously relieved, but not above taking a little of his anxiety out on Keith to teach him a lesson. “He’s probably never been so taken aback in his long life. By the way, you owe me a few pounds sterling, too. Your pictures came out. I’ve got them right here.” He showed the two frames to the red-haired youth, whose eyes widened with excitement. They showed Keith’s quarry turned captor, standing up from a crouch, and then coming toward the camera with it’s skinny arms outstretched. Both were perfectly in focus. Keith was jubilant.

“Thanks, Holl! Those pictures are worth a mi—a mi—” Keith stammered. The word ‘million’ was stuck in the top of his mouth like peanut butter, and his tongue couldn’t dislodge it.

Holl grinned. “Yer welcome, widdy.” He got up to go.

“And Holl? It’s nice to see you back in one piece again.” Keith tugged the lobe of his own ear significantly and smiled. Holl returned his smile, and closed the door behind him.

***

C
HAPTER TWENTY

Diane and the Master looked up as Holl joined them in the sitting room. The fire was turned on, warming the room pleasantly. Holl spread out his chilled hands before it’s glow. Two of the cats got up to salute the knees of his trousers with their cheeks.

“He’s tucked in and resting,” Holl announced. “He won’t need anything but a quick trip to the dentist. All his fillings are gone, but there’s nothing wrong with him that a meal and a sleep can’t fix.” He explained the details of the
bodach’s
curse.

“So,” said the Master. “Ve must now study how best to dispose of the curse. I observe that it comprises the classic forms of three prohibitions.…”

“Wait!” Diane interrupted him, outraged. “How can you sit and analyze it so coldly when it’s Keith’s welfare we’re talking about?”

The Master eyed her over the tops of his spectacles. “Analysis vill help us to determine the structure, and perhaps suggest the means of ridding him of it. It appears to be no more than a geas, a prohibitive statement, vhich exacts a penalty for violations. In any case, this vun is not harmful. Fery Gilbertian, this
bodach
. The punishment seems to haf done no more than fit the crime.”

“Thank God,” Diane sighed, and then sat straight up. “Say, Holl, I never thought of him until now; where’s your friend Mr. Michaels? He didn’t come in with us.”

Holl looked surprised. “You’re right!” He ran to the window, and glanced up and down the road for the car. “He just went off. I never had a chance to give him my thanks for his help.”

“Where did he come from?” Diane pressed. Holl frowned thoughtfully at her.

“I … I don’t know. He came up to help me when I needed transportation. I never questioned where he came from. Should I have?”

“No, he seems to have been a nice man,” Diane said, hoping she wouldn’t have to eat her words later. “He seemed to know a lot about looking for missing persons.” It all seemed a little too convenient. Diane couldn’t get over wondering how Michaels had known what Keith looked like, without ever having met him. Was Keith in some kind of trouble? She wondered if Michaels wasn’t some sort of official, but she kept her misgivings from the Little Folk.

Holl turned to the Master, who was sitting complacently on Mrs. Mackenzie’s couch, drinking tea. “I’d like to thank you for coming to help me, sir,” he said politely.

Without a word, Diane got up from her armchair and went to the window to look out. With her back to them, she could pretend she wasn’t listening. Holl was grateful for her discretion. It wasn’t pleasant to be called on the carpet, and to suffer before witnesses only made the ordeal worse.

“You do understand that the process vith vhich I located Meester Doyle vas vun you yourself know?” the Master asked.

Holl studied a spot on the wall. “Yes. But I wasn’t sure I had enough energy or experience to overcome the local interference.”

“Are you certain that your concerns were not simply the product of letting your emotions run avay vith you? You spent two days running around physically, not to achieve the purpose vhich took, by my estimate, under two hours when properly performed.”

That stung. “No. I’ve thought about that. In time, I might have realized the truth of that, but by then Keith Doyle might have fallen over a cliff.” Holl tried to keep his voice from sounding defensive, but the matter did disturb him. He had foolishly run his feet off searching, when all one had to do was employ the Law of Contagion, and call like to like. He deserved to look a fool by comparison with his teacher. “It seems also that Keith Doyle did his own spell, to make light. He would probably have come out by himself in time, under his own power.”

The Master stared at him with half-lidded eyes. “It vould be the mark of an immature ego to try and achief the impossible all alone,” he said calmly, “instead of svallowing vun’s pride and admitting the situvation is too much for vun. I consider that you haf used good judgment in calling for aid.”

“Thank you, sir,” Holl said, gratified. He had thought he was behaving like a helpless babe, but he was being praised for it! The situation put him one more down to the Master, which galled him, but he was so grateful to have Keith Doyle back again in one piece that he didn’t care. “Would you like to see the photographs Keith Doyle took?” He displayed the small envelope he had picked up from the developer.

“No. It is his honor, as he took the risks to obtain them. I vill vait until he may offer,” the Master stated, and poured more tea.

Parry and riposte, Holl thought. Bested again. He studied his feet, feeling ten years old all over again.

“But thank you,” the Master said, his blue eyes glinting through his gold-rimmed spectacles.

Diane escaped from the sitting room, and went in to see Keith. She couldn’t pretend to be invisible any longer, and she wanted to make certain for herself that Keith was all right.

“Do you want visitors?” she asked, leaning halfway into the room.

“This feels like déjà vu,” Keith said. “I was just visiting Holl in the hospital about two weeks ago.”

“It was longer ago than that,” Diane corrected him. “You probably don’t realize how long you’ve been away.”

“I’ve missed you,” Keith said, looking up at her fondly. “How are you doing?”

Diane leaned over to give him a kiss. “There. Better. Other than suffering from oxygen deprivation and partial deafness from the flight, not to mention worrying half to death about you all the way here, I’m fine.”

Keith gave an apologetic and sympathetic grimace. “Well, time is having fun when you’re flying,” he quipped. “What’s it like traveling with the Master?”

“Not bad. You know he’s never been on a plane in his life, but he was so cool about the whole thing, you’d think he does it twice a day. Everybody in the village volunteered to come when they found out you were in trouble, but he said he would be the one to go. We had lots of time to talk, just sitting there,” Diane explained. “I like him. You know, he seems to think Holl has done something really great.”

“What, by attempting to find the old folks? He hasn’t found them yet. Unless you count my
bodach
,” Keith shuddered.

“Nope, I mean by making the
attempt
.”

“Whether or not he succeeds?”

“I think so,” Diane answered thoughtfully. “You know how they feel about going anywhere out of sight of the house, let alone halfway around the world. And then there’s the small matter of his having saved you.”

Keith looked amused. “That’s the way it’s been reported, huh?”

“That’s the way it
is
,” Diane snapped back impatiently.

He smiled ruefully. “I know. I can take the lumps, if it’ll help him look like a hero.”

Diane relented. “Whether Holl will feel the same way, I don’t know.”

“I doubt it myself.” Keith had told her what Holl had heard from the village going on between Maura and Gerol. “He doesn’t want to talk about it, but it’s been on his mind a lot. He went away to sort of achieve the adulthood quest, and someone steals his girl behind his back.”

Diane whistled through her teeth. “That’s something Holl is going to have to work out for himself. I think the Master feels sorry for him, but he’s not going to lift a finger to help him with his own daughter.”

Keith sat up to protest. “That’s not fair!—Now, wait, that’s probably the best thing. There I go, being knee-jerk protective again, and Holl’s twice my age. He’s a lot more sensible than I am.”

“Practically everybody is. What was it like, being underground?” Diane asked curiously.

He shivered, remembering the lion-headed apparition that charged him, the crowding of the damp stone walls, and the tunnel full of water where he tore his trousers. “Wet. Cramped. If Mrs. Mackenzie had been leaving a dry towel outside along with the bowl of milk every month, he’d be so grateful she’d probably be raising tropical fruit in her garden right now.”

“Holl’s got your pictures. I want to see your bogey man when you’re out of bed,” Diane said.

“Sure. Now, how did you get here? I mean, where …” The prohibition on talking about money hit him and turned the rest of his question into numb-tongued gibberish. Diane listened carefully for a moment, trying not to giggle, then held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m being mean. Holl told us what happened to you—all of it. Never mind, I get what you’re asking,” she assured him. “I think you paid for it. The Master said something about winning a lottery?”

On top of the contests they had entered in his name to send Holl with him? The IRS was going to love that. Keith groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. Idly, Diane turned over the sorry heap of clothes that Keith had been wearing in the underground tunnels. “All this stuff needs to be washed yesterday.” She picked up Keith’s wool jacket, which though filthy, was virtually unscathed by it’s ordeal. “Look at this. Is it made of iron or something? Your jeans are ruined, and this just needs cleaning. Are you really doing magic? Holl said you did a kind of spell, or something. I want to hear all about that. Is this part of it?”

“Oh!” Keith remembered. “It’s not magic, it’s Harris tweed. You know, local handcrafts. Did you get any of my postcards?”

“Yes, I did. So this is Harris tweed,” Diane said, interested. She examined the jacket speculatively, humming as she turned it over in her hands.

“Do you want this one?” Keith asked generously. “You can have it if you want. I was going to buy some fabric for your gift, maybe enough for a skirt?”

She nodded approval absently, holding the garment before her in the mirror, though careful not to let the muddy cloth touch her blouse. “I might borrow this once in a while. You were going to choose my gift?” Keith nodded earnestly. “You chose that jacket yourself, huh? No help from Holl?” Diane demanded.

“Yup.”

“Okay, I guess you have good taste. You can come with me and pay for my choice.”

“Fine,” Keith said. The curse limited him considerably in his responses. He hoped he didn’t sound too abrupt. Besides, his teeth hurt when he tried to talk.

“So what’s my limit?” Diane asked, careful not to mention money.

“The sky,” Keith gestured gallantly. “Anything for my rescuer.”

Diane shook a finger in his face and dropped the coat on the chair. “That’s Holl, and don’t you forget it.”

“I’m not. I never will,” Keith assured her seriously. “But right now, there’s nothing he needs that I can give him.”

“I’m going to go and see if someone can get you to the dentist,” Diane said, briskly gathering up the pile of clothes and rolling it together. “And then I am going to take a nap. I don’t think I’ve slept in two days now. And it’s all your fault.” Keith lowered his eyes meekly and tried to look abashed.

“Well now, laddie,” Mrs. Mackenzie said as she bustled into the room with a steaming tray. “Did you see your little man, then, out in the garden? After all this, I’d near forgotten why you were out there.”

“Um, not exactly,” Keith stammered. Diane grinned over the landlady’s shoulder as she settled the tray over Keith’s knees.

“Ah well, it was a braw try of yours. You’ve had an adventure, from all accounts. Have a sup of this, and then a long sleep. The best medicine in the world for wear and tear.”

“I’d better go,” Diane said. “Remember, except for now, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a minute. You can’t be trusted out by yourself. I mean it.”

“Hey,” Keith whispered as she started to slip out of the door. Diane looked back at him. He smiled up into her eyes. “Welcome to Scotland.”

Lacking other transportation, Keith had to wait until the evening coach trip into Stornoway to see the emergency dentist. His friends clustered around him, demanding to hear his adventures in full before they would let him go up to the small medical office.

“You won’t believe a word of it,” Keith warned them. “I mean, it’s full of mystical things and fairy folk. You know, what you’ve been razzing me about for three weeks!”

“Oh, get away,” Max said disbelievingly.

“We’ve been working our fingers off shifting peat, and you’ve had a soft adventure,” Martin chided him. “You must be chuffed, finding a rare artifact like that comb. The Professor was all over the place about it. Locating that must have been exciting.”

“Well …”

“Pay the bard, pay the bard,” Edwin shushed them all. “We’ll wait until you’ve seen the dentist. We’ll buy the drinks, and you can tell us all about it, eh?”

“That sounds fair,” Keith acknowledged, happy to have some windfalls descend from his mishap. The fewer times he had to mention money, the less of a fool he would look in the pub.

“I’d like to hear all about it myself,” said Holl, teasingly joining the clamor for Keith’s story. “Make it a good one, Uncle Keith. Full of ghosties and ghoulies.…”

“Later, later,” Keith promised.

Miss Anderson said nothing to him, but she was no longer looking as stormy as she had. Keith took that as a good sign. The Master had decided to stay behind in Callanish and get some sleep. The red-haired teacher hadn’t confronted him yet. Keith had some time to compose an apology and a speech of thanks before actually having to face the formidable Master. He was glad he only had to deal with Miss Anderson that night.

Mr. McGill, the emergency dentist, was amused by Keith’s predicament. In a soft Scottish burr, he told his assistant to mix up a large quantity of amalgam. “Yer fillings seem to hae evaporated. There’s not a sign that they were dug out, and the traces of tooth sealant are still there. What have ye been doing to yer teeth?”

Keith rearranged the suction hose in the corner of his mouth. “Would you believe the fairies took them?”

The dentist laughed. When the assistant returned with a small white bowl, he cleaned and refilled all of the rough holes, and smoothed them with a scraping tool. “There’s been no decay since they’ve gone; you’re lucky. I’m using porcelain amalgam here, to match with your enamel. No more temptation there for selkies, eh, son?”

“I hope not,” Keith agreed, giving him one of his best village idiot smiles, and unhooking the paper bib from around his neck. He tried his bite, grinding his molars together. It seemed to fit okay.