Return to the Shadows (10 page)

I stroked baby soft dark hair away from the
smooth skin of her forehead and for the tenth time that day, wished
like hell I didn’t have to take her on this journey with me. But
there was no choice. Leaving her behind was definitely out of the
question. She was not safe. For that matter, neither was I. I knew
that, had accepted it even, but somehow, it still didn’t make it
any easier. You see, survival was a way of life to Ashley. One that
I had hoped to change for her.

“What’s past is past,” I muttered with a
shake of my head, vowing not to dwell on things that I knew I
didn’t have a shot in hell of doing anything about. At least, not
right then. More importantly, there were other things, more
pressing matters, that required my immediate attention, things that
I actually had some control over, no matter how minuscule and
fragile that control may have been.

As usual, there was little else to do but
pick up the pieces and move on. I stretched and smothered a yawn,
all the while wishing I could lie down and get some rest. The
double bed looked both warm and inviting. I stood up and crossed to
the small sink that sat at the edge of our room and made a fresh
pot of coffee instead. We were set to leave that evening, and a
quick glance at the wall clock told me there was a little over an
hour left before I had to wake Ashley. We would take time to eat a
quick dinner somewhere, but after that we would have to be on our
way, I acknowledged with a sense of foreboding. Night would have
fallen by then and we had a long way to travel.

Despite the fact that I still remembered the
way to the Cave of Shadows, it was still long, hard travel over
increasingly rough terrain. Ashley was only six years old. I
couldn’t very well expect her to make the entire fifteen-mile
journey on foot. It was a sad fact, but she would have to be
carried most of the way.

Once we reached the cave…well, I was trying
not to think about that.

***

We left the hotel at eight o’clock on the
dot. I glanced around the lobby of the average, middle-of-the-line
type of place we had chosen as our resting and regrouping spot,
disheartened. I don’t know what I had been expecting to see. A
sign? A familiar face? Anything that would have eased my frazzled
nerves and served as some small form of reassurance that I was
doing the right thing, that I wasn’t on the verge of making a
terrible mistake.

There’s no going back, I reminded myself for
what had to be the tenth time that evening. Ashley was looking
well-rested and totally adorable in the new outfit we had chosen
and purchased upon our arrival in the country. She was decked out
in mini hiking boots, a pair of tan cargo pants, and a lightweight
coarse pale green canvas top. I was not sure if baby explorer would
ever become the new haute couture, but she was still quite the
sight to see in her new travel gear and snappy ponytail.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked as gently as
was possible.

“Yes,” she nodded, ever my brave little
soldier. “Where are we going?”

“I told you, love, we’re going on a very long
walk to a very special place.”

“I know. That’s what you said earlier. But
why are we waiting until it’s dark outside? I thought you always
said it wasn’t safe to take a walk in the dark. That we only take
walks in the daytime.” Her lower lip stuck out and it was obvious
she was trying not to pout.

I sighed and placed a hand on her tiny
shoulder, trying hard to think of something comforting to say. I
gave her what I hoped would be seen as a reassuring smile, hugging
her close as we walked out the door.

“That’s right, Ash, Mommy did say that. And
usually it is better to wait for the daylight to take a walk,
especially a long walk like the one we are about to take, but I
promise you we’re going to be perfectly safe. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good because I don’t want you to worry. I am
going to take care of everything. We are going to be fine. You’re
safe now and you always will be.” I led her firmly from the room,
not wanting to risk discussing our plans in the middle of the hotel
lobby, even deserted as it was at such a late hour. Although I had
not seen Jones, his men, or any other suspicious-looking people
lurking about, and even though I was reasonably certain we had not
been followed, I was still on edge and chose to err on the side of
caution. I kept a watchful eye on our surroundings as we moved
farther away from lights and civilization, each and every step
taking us deeper into the shadowy, sketchy, predatory world that
made up the wilderness at night.

We had walked a little over a mile when
Ashley’s steps began to slow. Her thin shoulders drooped and I
could tell that the poor thing was getting tired. I could only
imagine what she must have been feeling.

The heat was not as intense as it would have
been in the bright, sweltering light of day, but we weren’t
accustomed to the significantly warmer climate and had a long way
yet to go.

“Would you like to sit down for a minute?” I
asked, halting our travel.

“Yes. Can I have some water?”

“Of course.” I set my pack on the ground and
plunked her down on top of it, uncapped one of the bottles I had
packed for our journey, and handed it to her. It was not only hot,
but muggy and humid outside, and she drank nearly half of the
bottle in three enormous gulps.

“I’m sorry I drank so much.” She was
embarrassed.

“That’s okay. We have plenty of water. Trust
me when I say we’re in no danger of running out anytime soon.
Besides, we should get where we are going a lot faster than that,”
I assured.

“Where are we going?”

“Well,” I took a deep breath. “We are going
to a place called the Cave of Shadows.”

“It sounds scary.”

“Yes, perhaps it does,” I agreed. “The Cave
of Shadows is a very old place. Ancient, really. It is documented
to be over five hundred years old. Do you know how old that is,
Ashley?”

“Older than Grandma?” She was awed.

I couldn’t stop the sudden spurt of laughter
that escaped at her response. “Well, I don’t know about ‘older than
Grandma,’” I joked. “But to answer your question truthfully, yes.
Five hundred years old is definitely older than Grandma. There’s a
very interesting story about the Cave of Shadows. Would you like to
hear it?”

“Okay,” she nodded eagerly.

“Should I use the flashlight?” I switched the
hand-held device on and held it under my chin the way I had seen
her do with her friends when they told ghost stories before bed.
“Five hundred years ago, an ancient high priest had a vision. And
based on his vision, his dreams, really, the tribe’s elders forged
a very special key. To this day, how they did it remains a mystery.
But the fact is that the key was forged—created. They soon found
that it led to a very magical place.”

“The place from the man’s dreams?”

“That’s right.” I nodded approvingly. “You
catch on quick. Yes, the key led to the very place that the priest
had seen in his vision. It was a magical place, full of strange and
wonderful things. And although not all of them were good, there
were wonders in this land beyond what anyone could ever have
imagined.”

“So what happened to the priest?”

“No one knows. But at least one of them
returned from the strange land and passed through the Cave of
Shadows. And for five hundred hears, the story of the priest’s
vision remained just that, a story. A legend really.”

“A legend is an old story, right?”

“More or less,” I acknowledged, impressed
anew with her razor-sharp mind. “Anyway, the priest returned, and
soon after they decided it was wrong of them to make special keys
to special lands. So they buried the key deep in the earth.”

“Why was it wrong?” she asked with innocence
that only a child could possess.

“Well now, that’s a hard question without a
simple answer. Maybe it’s because they were afraid of change. Or
maybe some people have a natural tendency to fear the unknown.
Maybe it went against the religious code of the time. Heck, maybe
they thought it just wasn’t a normal thing to do and that it would
have scared people—and they would have probably been right in that
assumption. But whatever their reasoning, the outcome remained the
same. They buried the key, and for nearly five hundred years to the
day, it remained hidden. Until the day your uncle Mike found
it.”

“Did he find it at his job?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, he did find it at
his job. He was out on a site digging for his job. He was trying to
find ancient artifacts for the museum so that scientists could
study them and learn all they could from them, and so that people
like you and me could come to the museum and learn about them as
well. Artifacts from long ago people are very important pieces of
our history, and we should learn all that we can from the special
ones that are found.”

“Things that long ago people leave behind,”
she helpfully supplied.

“Right. Things that the ancient people left
behind. And that is when he found the key. Well, your uncle Mike,
being the history buff that he is, remembered the story of the
legend. He remembered hearing the story of the priest with the
visions who had forged the key. So he read and he studied and he
vowed to find the magical land. And do you know what? He did.”

“Did he go to it?”

“Yes, he did go to it. He passed through the
Cave of Shadows and into the other land.” I swallowed past the lump
in my throat. “He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, though,
and I became very worried. So I found his books and papers and I
figured out where he was going. I went there to try to find him,” I
explained.

“You went to the magical land?” Ashley was
awestruck.

“You bet. I did go to the magical land. And
the most wonderful thing ever happened while I was there. Do you
remember what that thing was?” I paused, peering through the
darkness, trying to catch a better glimpse of her face in order to
gauge her reaction. From what I would see, she looked confused. “I
found you, Ashley,” I said quietly. “You came from the magic place.
Do you remember that?”

“I really came from the magic place?”

“You most certainly did. And that is how I
know it’s magical.”

“I don’t like the magic land.” Ashley
hunkered down and whispered after a lengthy silence, drawing her
knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs.

“You remember it then?” I pressed on.

“A little.” The admission was followed by
more silence.

“I see. You know…it’s not something that you
and I ever talk about. But I would like to.”

“I didn’t know that the magic land is where I
came from.”

“You did come from there, sweetheart. In
fact, I’m pretty sure you were born there. You don’t remember
anything about those days?” I queried, studying her face in the dim
glow cast by the flashlight and a spattering of stars high above
our heads.

She merely shrugged in response. I kept
trying. “Do you remember anything at all about the magic
place?”

“No, just the bad men,” she confided in a
hushed tone.

“Like the bad men who came after us last
night?”

“Yes, I guess so. But these bad men were
different. They all wore the same clothes.”

“Uniforms.”

“They all had a funny drawing on the clothes.
Right here.” She pointed to her right shoulder. “It was dark yellow
and looked like a bunch of curly q’s and circles. I think.” She
frowned. “Well, maybe I can’t remember.”

The Mark of Kahn. The mark of evil. I
shivered in the thin night air. “Ashley, did the bad men ever hurt
you? The bad men in the magic place.”

“No, not me.”

“Your mom and dad, then?”

“I guess my old mom and dad. I don’t really
remember. I just remember the mean people.”

“You mean the men with the uniforms? The
guards?”

“No, the mean people were friends with the
bad people. They took me to them when I was little.

Well, I’m little now. But when I was really
little.”

I cocked my head to the side and regarded her
thoughtfully. It was the first time she had spoken of the “mean
people,” whoever they had been. The people who ran the orphanage? I
wondered. It was hard to say and doubtful I would ever find out for
sure one way or the other, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Ash, who were the mean people?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…was it a woman and a man? Or a group of
men?”

“A man and a lady. The bad men took me to
them so they could take care of me.”

“What happened?” I leaned forward on the
hard-packed ground, the flashlight forgotten as it hung limply from
my fingers, brushing against my leg and plunging us into deeper
shadow.

“They didn’t like me. They said I was bad,”
she whispered.

“Was that who hurt you?”

“Yes. I had to sleep downstairs if I was bad.
Or outside. I liked sleeping outside best because of my
friend.”

“Friend?” I sat up, alarmed. “Was there
another child with you?”

“No, a dog.”

“Oh.”

“I left the mean people and walked a long
time. But I just remember it was dark. Then I saw you. Now you’re
my mama.”

“Yes, I am.” I sniffed, raw emotion
threatening to take over. “And I’m going to take very good care of
you. Forever and always. You got that?”

“Okay, but why are we going to the magic
place with the bad men if we are trying to get away from bad
men?”

“Well…” I trailed off, struggling with the
question. “I guess all I can say is…we’re going there because it
can also be a safe place. There are some very important people
there. Some very good people who can keep us safe and help us get
rid of the bad men,” I explained.

“I’m still scared,” she admitted, not looking
reassured in the least by my explanation and logic.