Read Oracles of Delphi Keep Online
Authors: Victoria Laurie
Just as his legs got clear, there came a great
snap!
from behind him and Ian whipped his head around to look. His breath caught in his throat as he saw an unnaturally massive snout shoot through the opening and miss his ankle by inches. He and Theo scooted away from the hole and sat petrified as the snout became a head, and—oh, what an awful thing to see! The massive head was as large as a lion’s but shaped like a wolf’s, with thick black fur and bright red eyes. Its snout was long and broad, and black lips peeled away in a snarl to reveal impossibly long fangs, heavy with drool.
Ian and Theo scuttled on their hands and feet, trying to move farther away from the beast, which seemed unable to get more than its head clear of the hole. After growling and snapping at them, it pulled its head back and began to dig at the opening with giant paws tipped with nails that were sharp and cruel.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Ian panted, staggering to
his feet, then grabbing the silver box from where it had landed nearby and pulling Theo up from her stunned position on the grass. “Run!” he gasped, and he tugged her along the hilly terrain, trying to get as much distance between them and the creature as possible.
Ian became aware of Theo’s ragged breathing while she tried to keep up with his much longer stride, but he was too concerned with getting her to safety to slow down. “Come on, Theo,” he said urgently. “We’ve got to reach the keep!”
And so the pair ran for their lives, stumbling over rocks, working their way back to the keep as fast as they could.
Only when the keep was in sight and he felt that Theo might be on the brink of collapse did Ian finally slow down. He settled for a brisk jog, allowing his ward to catch her breath, but he continued to look over his shoulder every few steps to make sure the beast wasn’t right behind, and to his increasing relief no sign of it emerged. In fact, the only proof that they’d seen the horrid creature came when they reached the main road leading to the keep and they heard that awful howl in the distance.
The noise prompted Ian to grab Theo’s hand again and run, and he had to admire her for making no protest even though he knew she had to be exhausted. Finally, the pair reached the safety of the outer walls of the keep and with the last remnants of their energy they stumbled through the large metal gates and up the short drive, staying to the right of the main building until they reached the front lawn, where they tumbled to the ground to lie panting and spent. It was a long time before either of them attempted to talk,
and Theo spoke first. “What was that horrible creature?” she asked him.
“I don’t know, but I do know I don’t ever want to see it again,” Ian said as he sat up and wiped his sweat-soaked brow.
“We’ve got to tell Madam Dimbleby and Madam Scargill,” Theo announced.
“No!” Ian snapped, and grabbed her arm. When she looked in shock at his firm grip, Ian immediately let go and softened a bit. “We’ll have to tell them we were in the tunnels,” he whispered, feeling dread at the prospect of having to confess that.
Ian’s thoughts drifted back to the previous summer, when one of the older tunnels near the cliff’s face had collapsed, the soft chalk finally giving way to erosion and time. Because the tunnel had crumbled during the night, no one had been injured, but news of it had reached the keep the following day and since then their headmistresses had expressly forbidden any of the children to explore the tunnels near the cliffs. Madam Scargill had given a particularly stern warning to Ian and Theo, as she knew that they were most likely to be caught underground.
And since Ian was already in trouble for staying up past lights-out to read one of the many adventure books he’d borrowed from the earl’s massive library at Castle Dover, he didn’t want to risk yet another evening without supper or chance what he really feared: feeling the bite of Madam Scargill’s switch.
“But, Ian!” Theo exclaimed. “What if it comes after us?”
Ian considered that for a long moment. “We’ll stick close to the keep for the next few days. Even if that beast is able to squeeze out of the hole, it would have to track us all the way back here. As long as we stay behind the walls and on keep grounds, I’m sure we’ll be safe enough.”
“Are you
mad
?” Theo said, her hands on her hips and her eyes very large as she looked scornfully at him. “What if it follows our scent here and comes after one of the other children?”
Ian frowned. She had a good point. “Fine,” he grumbled, then added quickly, “but let me do the talking, all right? You just stand there and nod.”
“If you plan on telling them that you saw the beast along the cliffs, you’re going to have to change your clothes,” Theo said, pointing to his tattered shirt and chalk-stained trousers. “One look at you and Madam Scargill will know you’re lying.”
When she pointed to him, Ian suddenly noticed a wicked-looking injury to Theo’s hand. He circled her wrist gently with his fingers. “Theo,” he whispered softly. “What have you done?”
She glanced down at the deep cut on the top of her hand, which was swollen and mean-looking. “Oh, right,” she said, pulling it out of his grip and wincing. “It must have happened when I smacked into the wall of the tunnel. It didn’t hurt until you mentioned it just now.”
Ian frowned, worried about the nasty gash. “We’ll need to get that tended to. Come on, then. Let’s sneak into the keep and get you cleaned up and a bandage put on your hand
before someone spots us. Then we can think up a good story to tell them about the beast.”
Just then a voice to Ian’s right said, “Lookit the two lazy gits, lying around all day while the rest of us work on our chores!”
Ian cringed. The voice belonged to the most hated boy at the orphanage, Searle Frost. He was a recent addition to Delphi, having been dropped off one afternoon by an elderly aunt who claimed not to be able to care for him any longer. It soon became apparent why. Searle was a difficult child and a bully through and through. He was also one of the few boys at the orphanage who were bigger than Ian.
“Theo,” Ian whispered. “Go on to the back of the keep and see if you can’t get in through the laundry room in the cellar.”
“But what about you?” she whispered back.
“I’ll be along as soon as I’ve dealt with Searle.”
“Ian …,” Theo moaned. “Don’t cause trouble. Just ignore him—
ow!”
Theo’s hand flew to the top of her head, where a rock had just bounced off.
In an instant Ian had jumped to his feet and was hurtling toward Searle. “How
dare
you hit a girl!” he roared.
Searle, who’d been laughing and pointing at Theo, quickly became serious and focused on Ian, charging toward him. He pulled up his sleeves, bracing himself as Ian barreled into him.
Ian and Searle collided with a great whump and Ian tumbled to the ground, pulling Searle with him. He rolled on top of the larger boy and got in a solid punch to his chin, but
a moment later the air left his lungs as Searle’s fist connected with his stomach. Ian lurched forward and tried to get his knee up into Searle’s belly, but he missed and sent it into Searle’s elbow instead, which, judging from the boy’s yelp, hurt fiercely.
Squirming around, Ian quickly wound his arm under Searle’s chin, attempting a headlock, but his adversary’s elbow found Ian’s rib cage and he grunted again in pain. He heard the shouting of other children who had come over to watch the fight, and somewhere, mixed into the frenzy of noise, he heard Theo shouting, “Stop it! Both of you,
stop!”
But Ian didn’t stop. His anger was fueled by fear from being chased by a giant beast as well as the building fury from being fed up with Searle. As the two tumbled around on the ground trying to gain the commanding position, Ian shoved his elbow as hard as he could into Searle’s stomach. By this time Ian had his face buried under Searle’s arm, but he heard a satisfying “Uhn!” as he made contact. A moment later his satisfaction evaporated when Searle’s fist connected with his cheek. He saw stars before he was lifted off the ground by his shirt collar, then dropped to the earth like a sack of potatoes.
Ian sat dumbly for a beat or two, his head still a bit dizzy when he blinked and saw the keep’s groundskeeper, Landis, with a choke hold around Searle. And then, from behind Landis, a chilling voice demanded,
“What
is going on here?”
Ian looked up to see Madam Scargill marching toward them, wearing a frosty look of anger.
“I caught these two having a bit of a row, ma’am,” said
Landis. “I think they was fighting over this.” With his free hand he held up the box Ian had found in the tunnel.
“That’s mine!” Ian said, jumping to his feet and attempting to snatch it out of Landis’s hands. But the groundskeeper held it high out of his reach. “Landis, that’s my box!”
“Is not!” Searle snarled from the crook of Landis’s elbow. “It’s mine and you stole it from me!”
Ian’s jaw dropped. He genuinely disliked Searle, but he’d never expected his nemesis to be so deceitful. “That’s a lie!” he roared, his hands balling into fists as he readied himself to go at it with Searle again.
Landis must have sensed Ian’s intent, because he shook his head in warning and said in a low, measured voice, “Now, now, Ian. Just calm yourself until we figure this all out.”
Theo came to Ian’s defense. “But he’s telling the truth!” she said. “Landis, that
is
Ian’s box. We found it just today, in fact.”
“Of course you did,” said Searle with a sneer. “You found it right where I left it, under my bed.”
“I’ll have that, Landis,” Madam Scargill said, and she stretched out her hand expectantly. Landis gave her the box and Ian’s fists remained balled as his face became red with anger that the treasure he’d risked his life for was quickly being taken away.
“Ma’am,” he said through gritted teeth, “that box belongs to
me.”
“No it doesn’t!” choked out Searle, still in the groundskeeper’s hold. “He stole it from me, he did!”
“Landis, if you would please release Searle …,” said Madam Scargill irritably.
Landis abruptly let go of Searle, who sank to his knees with his hands at his throat, as if he’d been choked to within an inch of his life.
Ian rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Meanwhile, Madam Scargill held the box up to inspect it before saying, “I shall determine who is the rightful owner of this box by asking the following question: Ian, how did you come to discover such an odd item as this?”
The question took Ian completely off guard. If he told her where he’d found it, she would surely never give it back to him, to teach him a lesson. If he didn’t come up with something, Searle would win the box. “I … I …,” he stammered, trying to think quickly.
“You see?” Searle jeered. “He can’t tell you where he got it because he pinched it from under my bed!”
“I found it out in the fields near the cliffs!” Ian yelled, his mind finally settling on a slight version of the truth. “It was buried under some scrub. That’s why it’s covered in dirt.” Theo, much to his relief, pumped her head up and down.
Madam Scargill, however, regarded the pair skeptically. She looked back at the box, her thin lips pulling down in a frown that clearly indicated she didn’t like to touch things that were dirty. Turning to Searle, she said, “Searle? Please tell me how this item ended up in your possession.”
To Ian’s fury, Searle’s face took on a mournful look and he cried, “My dear old aunt gave it to me the day she left me in your care, ma’am. She said it once belonged to my mother.”
“Liar!” Theo yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Searle. “Madam Scargill, Ian is telling the truth. He and I
were out along the cliffs this afternoon, and he happened on the box in the dirt.”
“They probably nicked it from under my bed and took it with them to bury and that’s how it got dirty,” said Searle, glaring at Ian and Theo. “Oh, ma’am,” he added in a convincing wail, “won’t you please return my dear, dead mother’s box to me?”
Madam Scargill looked from Ian and Theo to Searle, and then to Landis as if to ask his opinion. “I don’t know who it belonged to, ma’am,” he said. “I just found it beside the boys while they was fighting.”
“Very well,” Madam Scargill sniffed. “Until one of you admits that this box is not his, I shall hold on to it.”
Ian scowled, but he’d expected her to say something like that. Madam Scargill was always confiscating something. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Theo open her mouth to protest, and he quickly reached to squeeze her shoulder while he whispered, “It’s okay, Theo. I have a plan. Let it go for now.”
Theo closed her mouth, but he noticed she couldn’t resist sticking her tongue out at Searle.
“As for the two of you,” Madam Scargill added, pointing to Ian and Searle, “you shall both go without supper. Now off to your rooms, where you will reflect on your misbehavior.”
Ian groaned, but before he turned to go, he remembered the giant beast. “Ma’am, may I say something?”
“This conversation is over, Master Wigby You have lost possession of the box for now,” she said firmly.
“But, ma’am,” he tried to explain. “It’s not about that—”
“I said this discussion is
over!”
Madam Scargill snapped, and Ian knew he dared not say one more word.
With an irritated groan he marched past Madam Scargill, his chin down, and sneered in the direction of Searle, who was smiling gleefully back at him the moment Madam Scargill’s head was turned. Theo came alongside Ian and the two entered the keep. Searle was right behind them, cackling with glee at the trouble he’d caused them.
Fortunately, Searle’s dorm room was located in the wing opposite Ian’s, near a second set of stairs just off the large parlor and above the kitchen. Once they went through the main entrance, Searle turned left and Ian and Theo went straight ahead and upstairs. Ian glared over the railing at Searle’s departing form, but he felt thankful that at least he didn’t have to sleep in the same room as the nasty git.
“He’ll get his,” Theo whispered, and Ian could only hope so.
The pair crested the landing and walked only partway down the hall, to the first door on the right, which was where Ian’s bed was. He paused as he was about to enter and said to Theo, “You best clean and get some iodine on that hand. It’s a nasty cut.”