The Curse of Deadman's Forest (11 page)

“The visitors are taking a siesta right now, and later tonight, after I have cooked them a nice hearty meal, they will surely wish to turn in immediately. I can also ensure that their sleep is sound enough that they will not overhear my securing the diary and delivering it to you. Where should I meet you?”

“I will have my lorry parked on the road behind those woods,” said the driver. Ian inched his nose above the sill to peek out at the woods set behind the back garden.

“Make sure you have the money,” Carmina reminded him curtly. “Now go before the widow wakes and sees you.”

A moment later they heard the closing of the back door, followed by the quick footfalls of the driver hurrying down the dirt path to the woods.

Ian’s heart was racing and he and Theo stared at each other with stunned expressions. “This is terrible!” Theo whispered.

Ian nodded dully, too surprised to speak for a long moment. He thought back to the woman from the train who’d been quick to turn away the moment he’d looked at her, and how later he’d seen her hand some bills to their taxi driver but hadn’t got into the taxicab. He was convinced that she was a spy for one of the sorcerers, but what her true identity was, he had no idea. He also had the thought again that she and the man with the bronze cuffs could be working together.

“We’ve got to alert the earl,” Ian finally said, getting up to move quickly to the door, but as he walked across the wood planks, they creaked loudly and he stopped, afraid Carmina might hear him and realize they were awake.

Theo seemed to be reading his mind, because she whispered, “We’ll have to wait.”

Ian turned back and tiptoed to the bed. “Yes,” he agreed.

Much later that evening, after supper, when Señora Castillo had finally retired to bed, Ian whispered to the earl that he had a most urgent matter to discuss with all of them. They made their way to the widow’s library, where Carl—who’d been told all about the treachery the moment he’d awakened from his afternoon nap—stood guard at the door, keeping a watchful eye out for Carmina.

“This is most distressing,” said the professor after Ian recounted what he and Theo had overheard. “Most distressing indeed!”

“Professor,” the earl asked, “has Señora Castillo given you her brother’s journal yet?”

The professor nodded. “Yes,” he said, pulling a singed leather-bound book from his blazer pocket. “She gave it to me just before dinner. But, my lord, I’ve only had a brief moment to look through it. Barnaby was a meticulous scribe, you see, and he made an exact replica of the last of the Oracle’s scroll. There’s a fair degree of smoke damage to the text. My eyes aren’t what they once were; deciphering his scribbles will be rather slow going, I’m afraid.”

“How long would it take you to translate the prophecy?” the earl pressed.

The professor wrinkled his nose and flipped carefully through several of the well-worn pages. “It won’t be an easy translation,” he admitted, adjusting his bifocals and squinting at the paper. “But I should think I’d make it through in a few days … a week at the longest.”

The earl sighed heavily. “I’m terribly worried that’s several days too long, Professor,” he said softly. “Now that we know someone is indeed spying on us and wants that journal, I think it best to keep our visit here as short as possible. How much can you decipher by tomorrow evening?”

The professor’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “I hardly think I could make it through a quarter of the text in that span, my lord.”

“And you’re certain Señora Castillo will not allow us to borrow the journal for a few weeks even if we promise to send it to her the moment we’ve finished with it?”

The professor shook his head ruefully. “Quite certain, my lord. She was insistent that I not leave this house with the journal. It records the last words and thoughts of her beloved brother and she’s terribly afraid of losing it or having it further damaged.”

“Pardon me,” said Ian as a thought occurred to him, “but, Professor Nutley, might it be more prudent to make a copy of the prophecy and decipher it back home in England?”

Both the earl and the professor looked at him in surprise before the earl said, “Brilliant idea, lad!”

The professor nodded agreeably. “Yes, of course! I could have this copied word for word in a day, and if I start on it
this evening, we might just be able to take our leave by sundown tomorrow.”

“Excellent,” said the earl with a satisfied smile. “Between now and then, professor, do not let that diary out of your sight.”

“Does anyone know why the journal is so important to someone other than ourselves?” Theo asked, her hand at the crystal about her neck.

The professor opened to the middle of the book and squinted at the writing. “I can only think that our enemies would find it worthy of stealing, my lord, because it is obviously important to us. If it does contain a copy of Laodamia’s last prophecy, well, then I should think it vital to our cause.”

The earl looked gravely at the professor. “Then I urge you to make great haste in copying it. I will go into the city at daybreak to arrange passage back to England, but we mustn’t tell Señora Castillo of our plans. If her cook truly is working as a spy, we cannot risk our hostess letting it slip that we plan to make our escape next evening.”

“Very well,” said the professor.

Just then, Carl turned away from the door and whispered urgently, “Carmina’s coming!”

The earl pointed Carl to a chair across from him and quickly removed several chess pieces to make it appear as if he and Carl were in the middle of a game. Ian took the hint and dashed over to snag a novel from the bookshelves before sitting down next to Theo on the sofa. He opened the book just as Carmina entered the library without knocking.

“Good evening,” she said with a thick Spanish accent
while carrying a tray loaded with steaming glasses of milk. “I have come to give you all a cap for the night.”

Ian realized she meant the word “nightcap,” and he eyed the tray of milk suspiciously. The earl smiled easily but made no move to take one of the glasses. “Thank you, Carmina, but I believe I shall have to pass on the milk, as it often upsets my sensitive stomach, and I don’t recommend that the children have anything more than water so close to their bedtime.”

Carmina’s stern lips pressed together. “But it will help them for sleep time,” she said.

The professor also smiled easily at her. “I’m afraid I too will pass on the milk, though it was most kind of you to pour us each a glass.”

Carmina looked truly frustrated, and her eyes moved to Ian, Theo, and Carl.

“No, thank you,” Theo said politely.

“No, thank you,” Ian repeated, forcing himself to smile.

“Oh, can’t I have some?” Carl whined before making a small yelping noise. Ian could have sworn he’d seen the earl’s foot come down right on Carl’s toes. “Um … but now that I think about it,” he amended, “maybe my father’s right and I’ve had enough milk for one day.”

Carmina seemed to linger in the doorway, as if she were suddenly suspicious of them all. “You are sure?” she asked one last time. “Milk will put you right to sleep.”

There was something quite eerie about the way she was trying to push a glass of milk on them, and Ian was certain she was up to something. The earl must have sensed it too,
because his smile widened and he said, “That is, again, most kind of you, Carmina, but I don’t believe any one of us will have difficulty sleeping tonight. And please, do not stay up late on our account. I can assure you we will be most content this evening. You may take your leave of us now.”

Ian had to marvel at the earl, because although his smile was wide and friendly, his eyes and tone left no room for further argument. Carmina’s lips then pressed together so tightly that they all but disappeared before she gave one curt nod and left the room.

Once she had gone, everyone held perfectly still for several moments before Ian got up quietly and tiptoed toward the door. He could see the cook walking slowly away, as if she was hoping to catch a bit of conversation. When she was finally out of earshot, Ian turned back to the group. “She’s gone.”

The earl let out a sigh of relief but cautioned the group. “We must be very careful for the next twenty-four hours. We don’t want to rouse any suspicions, lest we put the dear Señora Castillo in any sort of danger.”

“Do you think she might be in harm’s way, my lord?” the professor asked.

But it was Theo who answered him. “Yes, Professor, I believe we’re all in a bit of danger now.”

“We must warn her,” the professor declared, his face set deep with worry.

But the earl shook his head sadly. “We cannot risk it, my friend. If our delightful hostess believes our story, then she
will have no choice but to dismiss Carmina, and given the loss of the rest of her staff, that would surely put her in a terrible state, with no one left to look after her. How will she manage? And do not forget that Carmina isn’t working alone. If this taxi driver and his patron come round here after we’re gone, I believe the señora would do well to remain blissfully ignorant of our suspicions.”

The professor leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh. “Of course you’re right, my lord,” he said softly before getting wearily to his feet. “And in light of these most distressing circumstances, I shall now cease to dally down here, and find my way upstairs to begin copying the prophecy immediately.”

The others got up as well and everyone headed off to bed most somberly. Ian saw Theo to her room, which was right next to his and Carl’s. “Keep your door locked,” he advised her. He hated that she was forced to take a room of her own, without protection.

“Of course,” she told him. “And you be careful as well.”

He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly. “I can look after myself.”

Theo arched her eyebrow skeptically but she merely said her goodnights and shut the door. Ian waited until he heard the lock click, then headed back to his room, noting that the professor and the earl were whispering quietly in the hallway just outside the professor’s room.

Ian felt better knowing that the earl was looking out for them. His patron caught his eye just as he was about to turn
back to his room. “Sleep tight, lad,” he said softly. “We’ll be off by tomorrow evening.”

Ian nodded and joined Carl in their assigned bedchamber. His friend appeared distraught. “I don’t like this business one bit,” Carl said.

Ian yawned tiredly. “I know, mate,” he agreed.

“I think we should keep watch on the hallway,” Carl suggested.

Ian was surprised. The idea of posting a guard hadn’t occurred to him, but now that Carl mentioned it, it seemed like a good one. “Might be a long night for us,” he warned.

“I’m up for it,” Carl said, and Ian remembered the nap Carl had taken that afternoon, which Ian well knew did not guarantee Carl would manage to stay awake during his watch. His friend had a reputation for requiring more than his fair share of sleep.

“You sure?” Ian asked, trying to gauge his friend’s fatigue.

Carl pumped his head enthusiastically. “Of course!”

“Very well. If you see Carmina creeping about the hallway, looking for the journal, go out of the room and act like you’re heading to the loo. That’ll give her pause about sneaking around tonight, at least.”

“Which will give the professor long enough to copy the journal,” Carl said before eyeing Ian, who was swaying on his feet with fatigue. “Why don’t I take the first watch?” he suggested.

Ian smiled gratefully. “That’d be smashing, thanks.” Then he hurried into his nightshirt while Carl wrapped himself snugly in a blanket and took his pillow over to the
door, which he opened just a crack before sitting down on the cushion to peer out into the hallway.

After setting the sundial on the small side table under the window, Ian climbed wearily into bed and turned off the lamp, whispering to Carl, “Wake me in a few hours, and I’ll take the next watch till dawn.”

The last thing Ian saw before sleep claimed him was his friend peeking intently out the slight crack in the door.

Several hours later Ian awoke with a start. Something he couldn’t quite place had alerted him, and as he sat up in bed and squinted into the darkness, he heard two things that alarmed him. The first was the subtle snoring of Carl, fast asleep on the floor. The other was the creaking of floorboards just outside their room.

Quick as a flash, Ian dashed out of bed and over to Carl, who was curled up in a ball next to the door. Scowling, Ian leaned over his friend and peered through the crack just as a dark shape moved slowly past. It appeared someone was attempting to move quietly down the hallway.

Ian considered opening the door and confronting the person, but some eerie feeling deep in his bones told him to wait. So he settled for inching the door open enough to poke his head out, and squinted into the darkness.

Lit by the moonlight coming in the front window was the thin figure of Carmina, descending the staircase. And in her hand Ian could just make out a small leather book.

For one brief moment he was so stunned that he forgot himself and gasped. Carmina paused on the staircase and
began to turn around, but Ian quickly pulled his head back. He crouched, frozen, until after a few seconds, he could hear the soft creaking of floorboards again as the cook continued to make her way down the stairs.

Without thinking, Ian flew into action. He hurried over to his clothes and grabbed his trousers and shoes and hastily pulled them on. In his rush to get dressed, he must have kicked Carl, who woke with a start. “Ow!” the boy moaned, disconcerted and testy. “What’s happening?”

“You fell asleep!” Ian hissed. “Carmina has the journal! I’m going after her!” And with that he pulled open the door and tiptoed quickly down the stairs, pausing only briefly to figure out which way the cook had gone.

He heard a door creak open in the kitchen. Ian did not hesitate to move toward the noise, and he arrived just in time to see Carmina disappear through the back door.

Ian crept stealthily to the window over the sink and took a peek outside. The maid was heading to the left, down the pathway that cut through the garden. Ian waited until she was well away from the house before following her outside.