Oracles of Delphi Keep (41 page)

“Why not?” asked Carl.

Thatcher frowned as he listened. “Jaaved says that it’s dangerous for Europeans in the countryside right now. He says that there was some sort of incident with the Jichmach tribe and a group of Germans and that the clan is out for revenge. He says the Jichmach don’t care if the people they take revenge against are actually German; they’d be satisfied with anyone who looks close enough.”

“So we’re not going to Lixus?” Ian asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

But the professor was speaking and Thatcher was too caught up in what the old man was saying to answer Ian. Instead, the schoolmaster began to argue with the professor. “I say, Professor,” interrupted Thatcher. “The boy has just told us it isn’t safe! We must immediately come up with an alternate plan and abandon this quest to Lixus. I think we should book passage to Spain. Surely the money you’ve brought along could see the six of us safely across the Strait of Gibraltar.”

But the professor wasn’t having any of it. “Poppycock!” he said. “Of course we must proceed to Lixus! The greatest Oracle in the world demanded it, Thatcher! Do you really believe Laodamia would send us all this way for us to give up so easily?”

“But think of the children!” argued the schoolmaster. “How can you insist on putting them in danger?”

The professor eyed Ian, Carl, and Theo thoughtfully. “I believe that in the past few weeks they’ve seen far worse,” he replied. Again Ian had noticed the slight glint in the professor’s eyes as he’d mentioned journeying to Lixus. He wondered if the old man had been overcome with that same longing that had brought him here forty years ago in search of the Star.

But Thatcher wouldn’t let up. “It would be irresponsible,” he said. “Really, Professor, I must insist that we book passage to Spain immediately!”

The professor growled and turned back to the boy on the rocks below. He spoke to him and Ian again asked his
schoolmaster to interpret. “Jaaved says that the next boat for Spain leaves in a fortnight,” Thatcher explained, his face the picture of disappointment.

“You see?” sang the professor happily. “We can go to Lixus, search out our Star, and still make it back in time to board the boat to Spain!”

“No! If we can’t get across the strait, back to Europe, then we should stay in Larache, where it’s safe!” insisted Thatcher, looking to his brother for support, but Perry was still gazing off in a faraway haze.

The professor scratched his chin and gave Thatcher a patient look. “My good man,” he said. “If you believe we’d be safer spending a fortnight in that city, then you really are naive.”

“What do you mean?” Thatcher asked.

The professor turned back to Jaaved and spoke in French. The boy looked at Thatcher and nodded, saying something to him directly. “What did he say?” asked Theo.

Surprisingly, it was Perry who spoke up. “The lad agrees with the professor. The city is full of thieves, pickpockets, slave traders, and charlatans eager to take advantage of unsuspecting foreigners.”

“Well then, where
does
the lad suggest we go?” exclaimed Thatcher in a bit of a huff.

“We’re going to Lixus,” said the professor firmly as he got to his feet again. When Thatcher opened his mouth to protest, the professor cut him off by saying, “Let’s put it to a vote, Master Goodwyn, and allow everyone to choose for themselves.” Thatcher scowled but the professor was already asking for votes. “All in favor of staying here in
Larache until our boat to Spain arrives, raise your right hand.”

Thatcher shot his hand up into the air and kicked his brother’s leg when he didn’t immediately comply. “All right,” groused Perry, and raised his right hand too.

Ian immediately crossed his arms and Theo followed suit. The professor grinned at the pair and also folded his arms across his chest. All eyes then turned to Carl, who stood unsure on the rock, his gaze darting from his schoolmasters to the professor, then to Theo and Ian, and down to the city and the boy on the rocks. “A tie means we stay here,” said Thatcher smugly, and he gave a little nod to encourage Carl to raise his right hand.

Carl shuffled his feet and looked back at Ian, who shrugged and gave him a small smile. Finally, Carl tucked his sword into his belt and slowly crossed his arms over his chest, giving Ian a huge happy grin. “I say we go for it!” he said, and the professor gave a loud whoop and began hurrying to lower himself to the rock below.

“Come along, then, all of you,” he said. “No sense fannying around here when there’s good daylight ahead for us!”

As they followed Jaaved into the city, Ian couldn’t help ogling people almost as much as they seemed to be ogling him. But he noticed after a bit that many of the men were frowning and shaking their heads at Theo.

He moved to her right protectively, keeping between her and the frowning men, and made sure to scowl back when he saw their disapproving looks. “Why do they seem so angry with me?” she said after a while.

“Who?” asked Carl, tearing his eyes reluctantly away from a man with a small monkey perched on his shoulder.

“These people,” Theo said. “See?” she insisted as she caught two more men glaring openly at her and spitting into the dirt.

The professor looked back and said, “You’re not dressed appropriately.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” she asked, looking down at her white blouse, plaid skirt, and knee-high stockings.

“It’s your head,” said the professor as he tapped Jaaved on the shoulder and signaled him over to a small stall.

“My
head?”
said Theo as Ian and the others followed the professor.

“Yes,” said the professor, motioning to a woman on the other side of the stall before pointing to a white scarf folded on one of the shelves. “Your head is uncovered and here in Morocco that is unseemly.” The professor then laid a few pence on the counter for the woman, who snatched the coins up eagerly and gave him a small bow.

The professor bowed back, then handed the scarf to Theo. “Cover your head and you’ll be fine,” he instructed, but Theo just stared at the cloth blankly.

Sensing more faces frowning at Theo, Ian gently took it from her and wound it around her head and across her shoulders like he saw some of the other women wearing it. “There you go,” he said with an encouraging smile.

“Thanks,” she answered, but her frown told him she wasn’t at all pleased that she had to cover up.

“Come along, then,” said the professor, and they continued on their walk to the smaller vessels at the far end of the harbor. In one of the very last berths, Jaaved stopped in front of the large figure of a man lying prone in a hammock strung up under a small awning of thatch. The man was snoring loudly and Jaaved tapped him on the shoulder.

He flicked at Jaaved’s finger and snored even louder. Jaaved turned to the group and gave them all a sheepish grin, then he turned back to the man and tapped again. With a snort the man started and opened his eyes. When he realized that there were strangers standing expectantly nearby, he stood as quickly as his large girth would allow and spoke what Ian assumed were his apologies to their group.

The professor extended his hand and the two men began to converse. Ian looked behind him at Thatcher and said, “Would you mind translating for us?”

The schoolmaster’s lips were pursed tightly in disapproval but he complied. Keeping his voice low and quiet, he said, “The man’s name is Mohammad. He owns that berth and that ratty-looking sloop over there.” Ian’s eyes traveled down the pier to the one-masted sailboat that looked like it’d seen far better days. “The professor has asked to rent the vessel for a trip up the Loukkos River to Lixus for a few days,” Thatcher continued, “and Mohammad is saying that he cannot possibly spare his precious boat for that long. He is suggesting a trip around the harbor instead.”

Ian listened and turned to see the professor smile politely and reach discreetly into his pocket to pull out some pound notes. “The professor is telling Mohammad that he’s quite
certain he would rather travel up the Loukkos and he’d be very happy if Mohammad would reconsider.”

There was a pause in the conversation while Mohammad greedily eyed the money in the professor’s hand. And then he spoke again.

“He has reconsidered,” said Thatcher with a smirk. “And he is offering Jaaved to pilot us up the river.”

“Can Jaaved sail that thing?” Ian asked, looking skeptically from the rickety sloop to the slight boy.

“Apparently,” said Thatcher. “And Jaaved says his grandfather lives on the banks of the ancient city and would welcome us with a hot meal and a free tour of the ruins if we’d like to see them.”

“Maybe he’s the Seeker, then?” said Carl.

“Who?” asked Ian.

“That bloke’s grandfather,” said Carl.

“Can’t be,” said Theo. “In my vision I clearly saw a boy.”

“Well, then how about that Jaaved character?” whispered Carl. “Do you suppose he’s your Seeker?”

Theo’s brows knit together. “No,” she said, after considering him. “I mean, I didn’t have a really clear vision of the boy, but the most distinctive thing I do remember about him from my vision was the diamond mark on his right hand, and Jaaved’s right hand is free of any mark.”

Ian squinted at Jaaved’s hand. It was, as Theo said, free of any strange markings. When he saw that Jaaved was looking at him quizzically, he averted his eyes and looked back at the professor, who was shaking hands with Mohammad.

“Well, children,” said Thatcher, “it seems we have ourselves a vessel.”

Next the professor turned to Jaaved and asked him something in French.

When Jaaved nodded, Ian looked to his schoolmaster, who whispered, “He’s asked Jaaved if he can arrange to get us some supplies for the journey.”

Jaaved led the group to the very end of the harbor, where a rather steep set of stairs took them up to the top of a short cliff overlooking the harbor, and at the top of the stairs was a building. Jaaved pointed to the ragtag shop, its name written in some odd script, and said,
“Voila!”

The professor turned to Perry and Thatcher and said, “You two stay here while I take our young guide inside and have him help me select some supplies.” He disappeared indoors before they could even answer.

Thatcher and Perry sat down wearily under the shade of a palm tree while Ian, Carl, and Theo occupied themselves by watching the boats coming into port. Ian found that he couldn’t stop grinning as he gazed at the vessels and the people down on the dock. Looking off to his right, he could see the opening of the Loukkos River, where it emptied into the ocean. The river was wide and a deep rich blue.

Ian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the hot sun on his eyelids and cheeks and smelling the salty air until he caught the smallest whiff of something foul.

Opening his eyes, Ian looked about and sniffed the breeze. What had that smell been and why did it seem so familiar? But he couldn’t find it again, even though he was turning in a circle, sniffing the air. He heard Theo giggle and he looked over to see her laughing at him. “What on earth are you doing?” she asked.

Ian broke into a sheepish grin. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “I thought I smelled something is all.”

“You
smelled
something?” Carl asked. “I bet it was a camel,” he said brightly. “I bet they’re really nasty-smelling up close.”

Ian nodded and joined them back at the edge of the cliff. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re probably right. I likely got a whiff of one of them on the breeze.” But at the back of his mind, something nagged at him. The smell had been nasty, like Carl had suggested, but that he found it familiar troubled him.

His attention was stolen, however, by his schoolmasters. Thatcher, it seemed, had been patiently telling his brother about what had occurred at the professor’s house, Laodamia and her prophecy, and how all the events that had recently occurred had been within the translated scroll from the silver box.

Perry turned to him and said, “Poppycock!” and Thatcher’s face scrunched up in anger.

“How can you say it’s poppycock!” he demanded. “I tell you, the translation is clear!” He motioned to Ian. “You’ve got the professor’s notes, don’t you, lad?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, digging into his trouser pocket and pulling out the prophecy.

After he handed it to Thatcher, the schoolmaster read it to his twin.

“Rubbish!” announced Perry, waving his hand flippantly.

“You cannot call it rubbish!” shouted Thatcher.

Ian listened intently as Thatcher explained how it could all be possible, how there was obviously some sort of natural hole in the space-time continuum and that was how the
Portal could open up and dump them into another country. Perry was still convinced that he’d most likely gotten a thump on the head back in the tunnel and was right now having himself one jolly of a hallucination.

“You’re not hallucinating,” Thatcher insisted.

“If I were hallucinating, I would expect you to say that,” Perry replied.

Thatcher rolled his eyes at his brother. “We cannot all be having the same hallucination, Perry!”

“Of course not,” Perry said. “I’m the only one.”

“If
you’re
the only one, then how can I be here, experiencing the very same things you are?”

“Because
you
are a part of
my
hallucination!” snapped Perry.

Thatcher gave a terrific sigh and turned away from his brother toward Ian, who was trying to hide his smile when something seemed to waft right under his nose again, and he swore he’d just caught another whiff of that same nasty odor. “You all right, lad?” Thatcher asked, and Ian realized he had lifted his nose and was sniffing the air again intently.

Ian nodded. “Fine, sir,” he said quietly. “It’s just …”

“Just what, lad?” asked Thatcher.

Ian turned his head to look up and down the street before answering. “I think something’s not right.”

Thatcher pushed himself to his feet and came quickly over to Ian. “Really? What have you seen?”

“Nothing,” Ian admitted. “It’s just I keep smelling something foul on the air.”

“I thought we decided you were smelling camels,” Carl said.