Quest for the Secret Keeper Page 2

  Ian’s mother had handed him over as a newborn to the gentle gardener before she’d disappeared behind the wall of the portal, taking her reason for abandoning him and her identity with her.

  Ian had heard the story secondhand from the Earl of Kent, who was his patriarch and the overseer of the large orphanage, Delphi Keep, where baby Ian had been taken in. Any further detail about that fateful encounter between Mr. Wallace and Ian’s mother had been taken with the gardener to his grave, and so ended any hope Ian had of ever finding his mother, and any inkling of where he’d come from.

  The knowledge left a well of bitterness within him that he found difficult to reconcile, and hence he often found himself here, standing over the gardener’s grave, stiff and angry at the hand fate had dealt him.

  But Carl’s support always helped temper his mood. With a sigh Ian said, “Is the last group ready to leave?”

  Carl nodded. “Thought you might like to come back to the keep and say your farewells.”

  Ian’s mood turned gloomier. Eight months previous, Germany had invaded Poland; and England, France, and the others in the European alliance had declared war on Germany and its allies. The battles in those eight months had been quite fierce, and both aerial and nautical invasion were constant threats, given the strength of the German armed forces. Children under the age of sixteen from all the port cities across England were being evacuated to safer, more rural areas to live with foster families or other relations, and most of the orphans of Delphi Keep were gradually being moved to farms and homes within Kent’s interior.

  The last six orphans, aside from Ian and his band of special friends, were being relocated to Dartford that very morning.

  Reluctantly he turned away from the grave site. “Let’s see them off, then,” he said.

  The young men hurried out of the graveyard and trotted along the road in the direction of the village proper.

  As they neared their home in Dover, the road grew more congested with traffic, clogged mostly by military lorries and marching soldiers.

  A few of the military vehicles had bright red crosses on them. “Looks like another shipment of wounded have come in,” Carl remarked.

  Ian eyed the lorries grimly. News from the front hadn’t been good. The allies were taking a heavy beating from German and Italian forces, and every day more and more troops were coming back with terrible injuries.

  As a port city, Dover had grown quite rapidly into a military outpost, and many of the larger buildings had already been converted to offices and quarters for the armed forces. The earl himself had offered the east wing of Castle Dover as lodgings for some of the higher-ranking officers, and Delphi Keep was being converted to a hospital now that most of the children had been sent into England’s interior.

  So much change was taking place all around him that Ian was having difficulty keeping up. “When we get back, mate, you might want to have a talk with Theo,” Carl said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Why?”

  “She’s worried about you.”

  Ian smiled. Theo was the closest person in the world to him, even closer than Carl. Theo, however, was Ian’s baby sister, even though he knew they weren’t related. She had come to the keep on a terribly stormy night when Ian was five and Theo was two, and Ian had been put in charge of naming her and looking after her. He’d taken that charge quite seriously, although the roles had often been reversed and Theo made sure to look after him.

  Theo was a very special young lady. She was twelve years old, and well on her way to being forty—or so Madam Dimbleby liked to jest. Extremely mature for her age, Theo was also gifted in a way that many adults had a difficult time accepting, until they’d been around her long enough to see with their own eyes what she could do.

  Ian’s little sister was an Oracle, gifted with the ability of sight. She knew things about people that she should not, and she often saw things that had yet to happen.

  So when Carl said that Theo was worried about him, Ian paid attention. “What’s she saying?” he asked.

  “She didn’t give me the details,” Carl said. “She simply said that she wanted to speak with you because she was terribly worried.”

  Ian thought on that for a moment. “Are you sure she wasn’t referring to Madam Dimbleby?”

  Theo had quietly told him and Carl that she’d had a most distressing vision about their headmistress. She felt strongly something terrible was going to happen to her. “I’ve seen a grave, Ian,” she’d whispered. “And I know it’s a grave for our headmistress!”

  “Are you certain it’s Madam Dimbleby?” he’d pressed. After all, Delphi Keep had two headmistresses: Madam Dimbleby and her cousin, Madam Scargill.

  Theo’s face had become pensive. “I believe so,” she’d said. “What I mean is that when I look at Madam Dimbleby, all I can sense is some terrible violence that I’m certain she’ll suffer!”

  So without telling the lovely older woman a thing about Theo’s grave prediction, the three of them had taken turns keeping an eye on Madam Dimbleby as she’d both orchestrated the relocation of Delphi Keep’s orphans and assisted with the many wounded soldiers now filling the space at the keep.

  The task of keeping a watchful eye on her was not an easy one, as Madam Dimbleby was a woman with energy to spare. Keeping track of her meant keeping close to her, which further meant making themselves available to the many tasks she charged them with as she bustled through her busy schedule.

  She’d thought they’d all been most helpful, however, and Ian admitted to himself she’d also been running them quite ragged.

  “I suppose once we say our farewells to the others, we can find Theo and relieve her of the duty of watching Madam Dimbleby,” he said to Carl.

  Carl sighed dramatically. “That woman will be the death of me.” But Ian saw that he wore a mischievous smile.

  It began to rain then and Ian and Carl quickened their pace. At one point they had to wait to cross the street until a large uncovered vehicle passed. Carl slapped Ian’s arm excitedly. “Look!” he said, pointing. “Germans!”

  Ian peered at the passing lorry and noted that it did contain a group of about a dozen men in German uniform, sitting with their hands bound and wearing miserable expressions.

  “I bet they were the ones captured from that German U-boat!”

  The day before, word had spread that a German U-boat, skulking its way through the channel, had had a severe mechanical malfunction, which had forced it to surface within several hundred feet of a British patrol ship.

  What had been most shocking of all, however, was that the German command aboard the ship had rigged the boat with explosives and sunk it rather than allowing the advanced submarine technology to fall into enemy hands. Most aboard had been drowned when the U-boat sank, but several men had been pulled out of the water and captured. Ian knew they would be brought to Dover for interrogation by the admiral in charge of these waters, although Ian doubted they’d give anything up.

  “It looks like they’re being taken to Castle Dover,” Ian remarked.

  Carl became even more excited. “Let’s try to get a closer look at them!”

  Ian was about to protest; after all, the year before, he’d had several very close and nearly fatal encounters with the enemy. But Carl had already started running after the lorry carrying the Germans. Ian had no choice but to chase after him.

  Given the heavy traffic along the road, Ian and Carl had no trouble keeping up with the prisoners all the way to the castle.

  As they drew closer, they could see that the lorry containing the Germans had pulled to a stop right next to a small bus, which several orphans from Delphi Keep were being loaded onto. Ian was relieved to see that Madam Dimbleby was assisting the children. If she was there, then Theo must be close by.

  Ian and Carl, quite out of breath by then, shuffled over to stand near Madam Dimbleby, who was a bit teary as she helped the children. “There you go, Jasper,” she said, guiding one young boy wit
h a slight limp up the steps of the bus. “There’s room in the back for you.”

  Carl’s chest was pumping hard, but he still managed to ask the headmistress if both he and Ian could go aboard to say their farewells.

  “Yes, yes,” said Madam Dimbleby. “But hurry along. They’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of them to Dartford.”

  Carl dashed onto the bus, but Ian held back. “Madam, is Theo about?” he asked.

  “She’s inside, Ian,” Madam Dimbleby said gently, but with a small shake of her head. “Theo’s been sticking to my apron strings so much recently that I felt we both needed a bit of a break from each other. I’ve sent her to help find some spare sheets for the soldiers at the keep. She’s upstairs right now rummaging through the earl’s extra linens.”

  Ian smiled, thanked his headmistress, and boarded the bus, which he noticed was stuffy with stale air. Several children were attempting to open the windows, but the bus was old and the windows wouldn’t give way easily. Ian hurried to the back to assist a girl of about seven, named Margaret, with her window. He worked the latches with one hand while tugging on the pane with the other. After a loud squeaky protest, the window gave way.

  As the cooler air rushed in, Ian overheard a soldier outside ordering the German prisoners to disembark from the lorry. He then overheard one of the Germans say, “What does the English pig want us to do?”

  “He is ordering us down, Commander,” another man said in reply.

  Ian looked with narrowed eyes at the Germans and toyed with the pouch about his neck, which held a very special stone of magical properties. The stone—part of a gem once known as the Star of Lixus—was made of pure opal, and it allowed the bearer to understand and speak any language ever spoken as if it were the bearer’s very own tongue.

  Ian’s eyes traveled to the British soldier unloading the Germans from the lorry. And Ian noticed that only when the soldier moved his gun threateningly did the Germans obey.

  “Do what he says, men,” said the German commander with a sneer. “We will have our opportunity soon enough.”

  “What are you staring at?” asked someone right behind Ian, causing him to jump.

  Ian turned to see the boy named Jasper holding a roll of extra clothing and blinking up at him with large brown eyes. “Nothing,” Ian assured him, and moved out of the way so that Jasper might take his seat next to Margaret. The pair were siblings and had come to the orphanage after losing both their parents to consumption.

  Carl, meanwhile, was jovially making his rounds, saying goodbye to all the occupants on the bus. Ian marveled at how easily Carl made friends and how so many of the children genuinely seemed to like him.

  As all the passengers got settled, Ian moved to lower a few more windows. Each time, his eyes returned to the German soldiers being herded off the lorry, and he noticed that several were whispering among themselves.

  At that moment, Admiral Ramsey—a man Ian had come to admire greatly—exited the front door of Castle Dover along with his personal assistant and a few other high-ranking soldiers. Seeing Madam Dimbleby, the admiral nodded and began to walk to her. Theo had suggested to Ian that the admiral was rather fond of their headmistress, and judging by the way Madam Dimbleby blushed every time the admiral was near, Ian tended to believe her.

  From the bus, Ian could see that the appearance of the admiral captured the German commander’s increasing attention. Rather boldly and loudly, the commander turned to one of the British soldiers guarding him and asked, “Do you speak German? Can you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  The soldier seemed to understand at least that much, because he shook his head. “No,” he said.

  “Do any of you soldiers speak German?” For emphasis the commander pointed to all the men guarding his group of prisoners.

  Again the British soldier shook his head. “We’ll have a translator here soon,” he said, not looking as if he especially cared if the commander understood him.

  But Ian could tell that the German commander did understand the soldier, and a twisted grin lit on his features. When the admiral had drawn a bit closer to their bus, he saw the German commander look round at his men. “When I give the order, as one we will move for their guns. Take down the admiral first, and shoot as many of the others as you can,” he told them.

  Ian’s heart dropped to his feet and he bolted for the front of the bus. “They’re going to shoot the admiral!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, lunging for the steps. “It’s a trap! It’s a trap!”

  As he emerged from the bus, several astonished faces stared in absolute shock at him—including that of Admiral Ramsey, who was now standing a few feet away next to Madam Dimbleby. “You speak German?” he gasped as Ian stopped dead in his tracks.

  In an instant, Ian realized that he was speaking the last language he had heard, and as his eyes darted to the German prisoners, he realized his mistake, as they too were looking at him with a bit of astonishment.

  Even before he had a chance to react and explain himself, however, a terrible cry rang out from inside the castle, and on the second floor Theo’s pale face appeared in a window and she screamed, “Iiiiaaaan! Nooooooooooooo!”

  Ian barely had the presence of mind to register what happened next. The German commander shouted, “Now!” and all together the prisoners rushed forward and overtook their British guards. A wrestling match ensued; the German prisoners attempted to secure the weapons from the overwrought soldiers, now fighting for their very lives.

  From around the castle, other British soldiers began dashing forward to assist their fallen comrades, and the children on the bus screamed in panic and fear.

  Out of the melee emerged the German commander, wielding a knife he’d managed to secure from one of the fallen soldiers. Wearing a crazed look in his eyes, he held the knife aloft and forced his way out of the tangled mess, heading straight for the admiral.

  Ian lunged at the admiral, tackling him to get him out of the way before the German commander could stab him. Because Ian had shoved the admiral, the German’s mark was off and the knife connected with the side of the bus. Ian still had a grip on the admiral’s military jacket, and as the German came at them again, Ian grabbed the older man and heaved him around, up the stairs of the bus and safely out of range of the knife.

  When he turned, he stared right into the commander’s eyes, which were slits of rage. Again he heard Theo scream his name, and the sound was so wrought with fear and anguish that he reflexively turned his head to her.

  Movement he saw out the corner of his eye caused him to snap back, and he realized the commander was now charging straight at him, the knife aloft. Ian closed his eyes, waiting for the steel blade to strike his chest, when he himself was shoved violently aside and a horrible scream pierced the chaotic sounds of shouting men and angry curses.

  Something heavy landed right on top of him, and he crashed to the ground. A shot rang out, and then another, and another, until finally, everything went quiet.

  Ian opened his eyes slowly, aware that the thing that had hit him was a person. His right arm felt wet and he looked at it. With a great deal of shock, he found it covered in blood.

  Then it seemed that there was a rush of people all around, and he heard someone panting heavily and whimpering in pain. Belatedly, he realized that his headmistress was sprawled on the ground with him, and as he was pulled out from underneath her, he saw that the knife that had been meant for him had instead been sunk deep into her chest.

  “No!” he cried, scrambling onto his knees and scooting over to cradle her head. “Oh, Madam! What’s happened to you?”

  Madam Dimbleby’s face was very, very pale, and her lips were turning blue. A gurgling sound came from her chest every time she attempted to breathe, and there was nothing but agony in her eyes as she stared straight ahead without focusing on anything.

  Shoving his way over to kneel beside Ian, Admiral Ramsey sucked in a breath when he took in Madam’s condition, then lifted his chi
n and shouted, “Medic!”

  Ian felt on the verge of panic; clearly the woman who had been like a mother to him was barely clinging to life. He scooted as close to her as he could, wriggling out of his coat to lay it gently under her head. “Oh, ma’am!” he whispered, feeling the agony of guilt. “Why, ma’am? Why did you do such a foolish thing?”

  Madam’s hand came up and gripped Ian’s arm weakly. “Ian!” she choked just as a soldier wearing a large red cross appeared from the gathering crowd to crouch down next to them. “Send for Gertrude!”

  Madam Dimbleby was referring to her cousin, Gertrude Scargill, the other headmistress at Delphi Keep. Ian’s head snapped in the direction of the old keep, at least a kilometer away, and he wondered with despair if he could make it back with Madam Scargill in time. He knew Madam Dimbleby’s injury was quite grave; if the bleeding wasn’t stopped very soon, she would likely die. Ian was torn between staying with her and doing as she bid, but one more look into her eyes convinced him he must succeed in this errand for her.

  He’d gotten no farther than a few hundred meters when he saw a figure emerge right next to him. Ian started a bit when he realized someone was matching him stride for stride, but he quickly realized it was Carl. “Ian!” Carl gasped as he came up alongside him. “Wait!”

  With great reluctance Ian slowed his pace and snapped, “I’ve got to fetch Madam Scargill!”

  Carl reached out and firmly took hold of Ian’s upper arm, yanking him to a rough halt. “Let me!” he said between pants. “I’m faster over distances than you! You’ve got to go for Eva! Theo says she and Jaaved went into the village to mail a letter.”

  With a jolt Ian realized that only Eva might be able to help Madam Dimbleby.

  Eva was one of the special orphans who had been allowed to stay behind at Delphi Keep. She had come through the portal from Poland on the eve of the war with Germany, and like Theo, she also had a very special gift—that of a healer.

  As a healer Eva was incredibly powerful, and she had in fact already saved several lives—Carl’s included. “Right!” Ian agreed, already turning away from the path to the keep. “You bring Madam Scargill and I’ll go for Eva!”