A Poisonous Journey (41 page)
I move quickly, all the time afraid any wrong move may send me tumbling, or worse. After some time, I reach another crossroads. A few minutes have gone by, and if I am moving in the right direction, the exit of the cave ought to be nearing soon. Unfortunately, it is night outside, and sunlight won’t be beckoning me forth. Still, I sense it is the correct path. Darius did not make many turns, and the tunnels I have chosen led only in a slight curve off the central way. I would have remembered any drastic bends, but cannot be certain. I only hope not to be heading too deeply into the wrong direction, farther and farther into the mountain. I push down my swelling sense of panic, building inside me. One way or another, I have to get away from Darius.
Walking on, the torch heavy in my damp hand, my arm is growing weary, and rough stones poke through the thin soles of my shoes. Every few moments I stop, holding my breath to listen for sounds of pursuit, but as yet have heard none. I wonder whether Darius has woken up, and, if so, what he will do.
Onward it goes. I must be reaching the mouth of the cave soon. The dust in the air is making my eyes sting and water. I cannot dally. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of my jacket, I push on. Rounding a slight bend, I feel a chill. No, not a chill, a breeze!
Air!
Fresh air is coming from somewhere ahead. My feet pull me forward faster, the lure of freedom a magnet my whole body cannot resist.
Air!
Fresh air is coming from somewhere ahead. My feet pull me forward faster, the lure of freedom a magnet my whole body cannot resist.
Yes, I see it!
I want to scream with relief. Vague outlines of a hole in the wall.
My escape.
Thank heavens, my escape! I almost fly the next few feet, so fast am I at that most welcome, perfect, beautiful portal. Sticking my head out first, I suck in a welcome lungful of fresh air. Casting a quick look around, I make certain Darius hasn’t come by some other route to intercept me. No one in sight. Quickly, with all measure of lady-like decorum abandoned, I scramble out into the open. Taking a moment to steady myself, I turn to the right side of the mountain and break into a run.
I want to scream with relief. Vague outlines of a hole in the wall.
My escape.
Thank heavens, my escape! I almost fly the next few feet, so fast am I at that most welcome, perfect, beautiful portal. Sticking my head out first, I suck in a welcome lungful of fresh air. Casting a quick look around, I make certain Darius hasn’t come by some other route to intercept me. No one in sight. Quickly, with all measure of lady-like decorum abandoned, I scramble out into the open. Taking a moment to steady myself, I turn to the right side of the mountain and break into a run.
The cool night wind bites my cheeks. It is a good pain, a sign of being alive and free. In moments, I reach the dirt road. The torchlight is growing dim, and I hope it will last until I see the village. The slight shimmer of the moon will be enough to guide me on last stretch of the way. It doesn’t take long. Like Hermes with his winged sandals, I fly over the dusty road, my feet barely touching the earth. Desperation and fear burn inside me, fueling me until I can finally collapse in safety.
My lungs are stinging as I discern the village gates in the distance. Without a motor or bicycle, Darius would be hard-pressed to catch me now, and if he did, I could scream and would likely be heard. My throat is dry from running as I stumble through the gates and into the village.
A hum of cheerful music still fills the air, and it smells as it did before, salty and delicious. Everything has remained as it was, while for me, everything has been turned upside down and quite roughly at that. Slowing to a walk, my pulse is still pumping rhythmically in my neck. I cast my eyes around.
Where are the others? Where is Dymas?
Yes, Dymas. I have to show him the cave so they can find Darius, not least to tell me that I haven’t killed him.
Where are the others? Where is Dymas?
Yes, Dymas. I have to show him the cave so they can find Darius, not least to tell me that I haven’t killed him.
With quick steps, while my legs feel like jelly after the frantic run, I rush towards the town square. At the sound of voices, I sigh with immense relief. People, I am amongst people again. Leaning momentarily against the high wall to my right, assailed by exhaustion, I force myself on. The music grows louder and the lights brighter, such a welcome assault on the senses. Finally in the square, I sweep my eyes around, searching for a familiar face.
Where are they?
The Delage was still parked by the road. They wouldn’t have left without me.
Where are they?
The Delage was still parked by the road. They wouldn’t have left without me.
I start to feel dizzy. There are so many people. So many faces and noises and smells. Dancing and laughing and drinking. Where are they?
Where are they?
Where are they?
Summoning the last of my energy, I shout, "Briony! Daniel! Jeffrey!" My voice is not as loud as I had hoped, instead it comes out raspy and ragged from the run. I call out again, people around me regarding me with puzzled expressions.
Please, please be here somewhere! All
I want now is to sit down somewhere warm and quiet and have a good long cry. Perhaps I will. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home, wherever that is. I want to be safe.
Please, please be here somewhere! All
I want now is to sit down somewhere warm and quiet and have a good long cry. Perhaps I will. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home, wherever that is. I want to be safe.
"Miss Carlisle?" I feel a hand on my shoulder and for an instant fear it is Darius, come to finish what he began. Twisting around, shaking off the hand, I recognize with tremendous relief the hulking figure of Dymas.
"Oh, thank God!" I collapse against the unsuspecting man. I cannot describe the relief at having escaped, and it ebbs out of me in choking sobs.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" Dymas takes a step back, his hands on my shoulders, eyes scanning me up and down.
"N-no," I sniffle, "Darius, h-he is mad!" I wipe at my eyes, a twinge of shame for having allowed myself this outburst in front of a near stranger.
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
Before I can answer I hear the most welcome voice of my counsin. "Evie! Oh, Evie, there you are. We’ve been looking all over for you!" I turn around and see Briony, Jeffrey, and Daniel approaching. Briony’s steps quicken when she sees my tearstained face. She knows I never cry in public and rarely in private. Besides, I must be filthy, covered in ancient dust.
"What happened?" Her voice is steady and she takes my hand, looking suspiciously at Dymas. "Did he hurt you?"
"What? No, no." I swallow a hiccupping sob. "It’s Darius."
"Come," Briony leads me to an empty bench next to the crumbling side of a town house. The others follow, their expressions ranging from shock to relief.
"Now, take a deep breath and tell us what happened." Briony sits down beside me, leaving no room for the men who position themselves awkwardly around us, blocking the light. Their presence is so comforting, and with a tremor in my voice, I manage to recount the events of my evening.
When I finish, the others are silent. Dymas is the first to find his voice again. He clears his throat before he speaks.
"Andros Calandra." He shakes his head. "His poor parents. They go around saying he has important work in Athens. This will be a terrible shock. Terrible."
"Oh Evie, what have you been through!" Briony places an arm around my shoulder.
Daniel nods. "We ought to go and find Darius. He has to be arrested before he can escape."
"Yes, of course. I will summon a few of my collegues. Hopefully, I will find some who haven’t been too liberal in sampling the wine tonight. Darius is not exactly a menacing figure of a man. A few of us should manage to frighten him into submission." Dymas’ voice is somber and resolute. "Miss Carlisle, you have been very lucky tonight. It was dangerous to follow him, though I believe none of us imagined him capable of violence." Dymas shakes his head again, still at odds with the truth, and makes his exit. I have told him exactly where to go, and with any luck they will be successful in locating him.
"I was a fool." I pull my jacket a little closer to me. Here, with the fires and people, it should be warmer, but I still feel the creeping cold of the cave deep in my bones.
"The important fact is that you got away." Jeffrey steps forward, patting my shoulder in a brotherly manner. "
"Come, let us take you home. Or do you want to see a doctor? I am sure, I can find Nikolas somewhere." Daniel looks around, scanning the crowd for Laria’s husband.
"No, no. I am all right, just tired and—"
"You don’t have to explain." He holds out a hand to pull me up. "The car isn’t far away. Yannick is waiting."
In a slow procession, made slower by my battered feet, we make our way down the alley to the Delage. I thank the heavens—whoever rules them—for Yannick is indeed leaning against the gleaming motor, smoking a cigarette. Upon noticing us, he quickly tosses it aside, crushing it with the toe of his shoe.
"Miss Carlisle!" Even in the dim light, I see his blue eyes widen in surprise at my appearance. "Are you all right?"
I must look ghastly, if this is everyone’s reaction. I put on a brave smile for him. Best not say too much yet. If Darius told the truth, Caspar’s murderer is still at large, whoever he or she may be, and revealing what I learned tonight may only cause further complications.
"I am very tired, Yannick." I catch him glancing at my ruined shoes, the heels caked in dirt. "Too much dancing," I offer as explanation.
Yannick opens the doors for us. Silently, we squeeze in. With weak effort, I think:
Should I not be at the police station, making a statement?
With the events of this evening still in motion, there is probably no one there anyway. All out celebrating or chasing down the mad museum curator. Jeffrey is sitting in the front beside Yannick, and I am cocooned between Briony and Daniel, safe and sound for now as we, at last, drive home.
Should I not be at the police station, making a statement?
With the events of this evening still in motion, there is probably no one there anyway. All out celebrating or chasing down the mad museum curator. Jeffrey is sitting in the front beside Yannick, and I am cocooned between Briony and Daniel, safe and sound for now as we, at last, drive home.
CHAPTER 34
We reach the villa in no time at all, or at least it seems that way to me. The misadventure of the evening has left me drained, and I may have dozed off for a while during our journey. The image of that withered body, the skeleton with its empty stare, claws its way back into my mind, forcing me to wrench my eyes open to escape the vivid memory.
When Yannick parks the motor and turns off the engine, the night suddenly turns terribly silent, the world outside our metal cage so large and confusing. I mustn’t brood now. Darius is not a well man. I must focus on all the kindness I have been shown, help I have been offered this evening. The world is terrible and terribly good; darkness and light, always shifting. There have been many times in my life where this simple truth has been so difficult to remember.
Getting out of the car, I am carefully assisted as though I am a fragile creature not to be trusted to hold herself upright. If this night has taught me anything, it is that I am not as weak as I may have believed myself to be. Gently escaping the helping hands, I climb out. The cool air whips at my hair and makes me feel cleaner again. I want all the dust and misery of that horrible cave to wash away, restoring me to how I was before. I know it cannot be. I will always remember the suffocating fear for my life, saddened and frightened by the dead figure of a man I never knew. It is as if invisible fragments have crept under my skin and will not leave, no matter how hard I scrub. Memories are like tattoos. They are etched into us, and we are never rid of them. We may cover them up, yet they remain, always threatening to reveal themselves and to pull us back again.
"Evie? Come," Briony beckons me forth, and I draw out of my trance to see them all staring curiously, creases on their foreheads, eyes narrowed. I worry them. I have happened upon two dead bodies in the span of ten days. Am I some sort of reaper?
No. No more stupid, silly thoughts!
We enter the house. It is silent and pleasantly warm. The stones of the building retain the day’s heat enough to provide comfort on a cool evening.
"I will draw you a bath." Briony says.
"Can I get you anything? Tea? Brandy?" Daniel looks wretched, or perhaps I am only projecting my own turmoil.
"No, a bath is enough. Then I will sleep." I hope. Will I sleep? Will those empty eyesockets haunt me in my dreams? Will I be doomed to running and running even in my unconscious hours?
"Sleep well then." I have the strong impression there is more he wants to say, but Briony bustles me up the stairs, and whatever is on his mind is left unspoken.
"You must wake me when Dymas calls. Tell me if he caught Darius. Promise me, Briony." We enter my room, and she walks into the bathroom to begin filling the tub.
"Of course. I am certain he will catch him. How long can Darius hope to hide in the cave? He must know it is over." She returns to my room and perches on my bed as I sit on the stool, unbuckling my shoes.
There are no words for the liberation of taking of painful shoes.
Men may never know it. It is quite incredible. I toss the offensive foot-traps to the side with relief, wiggling my tired, cramped toes before returning to the seriousness of the situation.
There are no words for the liberation of taking of painful shoes.
Men may never know it. It is quite incredible. I toss the offensive foot-traps to the side with relief, wiggling my tired, cramped toes before returning to the seriousness of the situation.
"You didn’t see him, Briony. He was mad. Confused, manic, I cannot explain it better. He was most certainly not thinking rationally. To my fortune, otherwise he surely would not have been so easily duped."
Briony shudders and wraps her arms around herself. "I cannot believe it. To think we were having a pleasant picnic with him a few days ago, and all the time—"
"It is terrible. You know what makes it worse?"
"What?"
"If he was honest in the cave, and I trust he was since he had not reason to lie anymore, he wasn’t responsible for Caspar’s death. Whoever killed him is still at large, living a normal life. We may well have seen him or her at the festival. Will we ever discover who is responsible?"
Briony shrugs. "I have to believe so."
"We will see."
"I am so sorry you have had such a horrid time, Evie." She bites her lower lip, a telltale sign tears will soon follow. Too tired to give much consolation tonight, I only shake my head and offer a weak smile.
"It is not your fault, as you know. I am glad I came. Darius did what he did so long ago, and Caspar would likely have met the same fate if I had been thousands of miles away. It is as it is and cannot be undone, I am not be broken by either event. These tragedies are just that, tragic, but we have to learn to live with the fact that they invaded our lives and are part of our history."
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