Whenever-kobo (10 page)

“Catacombs?” Callum asked. “They extend from the crypt?”

“To the left of the oldest of our kings buried below is a passage.” King Mael didn’t elaborate further. He left us there in the church and it was as if my chance at going home went with him.

Fear and shock set in and my body shook. I sank to the floor and stared at the ground. Wax had dripped down from the candlesticks. I rolled my finger over the drippings, examining my fingerprint as if it held an answer to this mess.

Callum crouched down beside me. “Let’s find that tunnel and go up to the castle. We’ll figure out a way home by tomorrow night.”

“We don’t belong here. This is an insane mistake.” My voice came out low and steady. I pressed on the wax again.

“Your speech kicked off a bit more than you anticipated.”

He sounded like his cousin Sean. Annoyance jolted through me. “Really? Using you in a speech for a few points compares to this?” I waved my hand around and then brought it in front of him and peeled the wax from my finger. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t tossed me onto your plane.”

His fists clenched. “Sometimes we set things in motion we didn’t mean to, and my family won’t see your speech as innocent. They’ll see it as targeting us. They’ll see your coming with me as part of your destiny. To address the verbal wrong you did my family.”

“Whoa. What imagined wrong are you talking about?” I slowed down my words. “You don’t look like your family. I pointed it out.”

“I saved you.”

I ignored that. “Why aren’t you freaking out? I don’t care if your family told you time travel stories and gave you mixed martial arts training. King Mael took away the sword. The sword. The one that sends us home. You should be spazzing.” My voice rose. “
We traveled through time.
Or is this what you do in Ireland on the weekends? The secret to your wealth and whatnot?” Did wealthy people know the secrets that were kept from the rest of us?

“I don’t know why I’m adjusting better than you. Maybe it’s the same way we understand their dated language and they understand us. Maybe it’s a lifetime of training to handle things. No matter what the time, this is my country. Maybe it’s simply my destiny to be here.”

“We make our own destiny. We need that sword.”

“King Mael owes us as travelers just as we owe him. He’ll keep his word.”

“Sean’s also your family. He had no problem turning on you.” I wrapped my arms around my waist and I rose, steadying my feet. “And Lisette. He shot her. I saw it before we left.”

The heat left Callum’s eyes. “We’ll go back in time to save her. Time. That’s our advantage.” He went over to the wall and withdrew a torch that appeared to be made up of sticks, burlap, and tar. He used the largest altar candle to light it up. The burning meadow fragrance again filtered across the pulpit and light from the flame glowed against his square jaw. “We’ll return home tomorrow after the ceremony.” He glanced over me. “You okay? Any dizziness? Any pain?”

“No.” Even my scratches didn’t sting anymore. “Nothing hurts but my side and it’s getting better. You?”

“The same. Let’s go.”

Not seeing a choice because he had the blood and the King had the sword, I opted to follow him. I used the banister to make my way down the steps. This was his country. His freak family. His freak supernatural trick. Maybe it
was
his destiny. I could hang in his destiny one night. But one night only.

I followed Callum to the door and breathed in the fragrance of the forest and fresh air. The coldness hit me and I shivered hard at the biting wind. Callum’s arm dropped around my shoulders, and I stepped closer to his warmth.

Ten yards away, the nobles knelt amid Celtic crosses with the King’s soldiers standing above them. The golden light of the falling sun, the grays of the stones, and the greens of the grounds and patches of snow made a beautiful backdrop for the image of their thwarted ambitions.

I turned my focus to Callum. His hair just reached his jaw and he looked like the modern photos I’d seen of him: handsome, foreign, familiar. “Let’s go.”

Callum took me on a circuitous route behind the church. The path ended at a low stone wall. He handed me the torch so he could shift a thin rock from the entrance. I held the live flame out and away from us. Stone steps dropped down from the opening, leading below ground. “I’ve studied this place. But we don’t come here,” Callum said. “When Sean was young, one of my cousins disappeared from here. He didn’t lie about that. That’s when the old stories came to light. Stories of the travelers, and Da put the restrictions into place.”

He held the light into the dark hole and moved inside. “Watch your step.”

The steps were smaller than my feet, and I put a hand on Callum’s back to brace myself as he edged his way down. “Do you think your cousin….?”

“I never did before. Now, I don’t know. I thought there had been some kind of accident and they restricted the area for safety, not superstition.” His voice echoed as we came to the final step and entered the dark space below the church. “That’s private though. Not for the press or the Internet.”

“Oh? And I was going to call them as soon as we got up to the castle.” Irritation tainted my voice. “Do you think they have high-speed?”

Callum laughed and waved the light around the crypt. “Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” The flames cast dual light and shadow on the stone caskets, statues, and carvings. “This would be amazing in the daylight. Come along.”

“You should follow me. You’re so tall, you’re going to knock your head into something and bleed all over the limestone. I need your royal blood on a sword, not pooling around your feet in this crypt.”

Callum glanced back at me and held out his free hand. “This way.”

I twined my fingers through his and Callum ran his thumb over the back of my hand. An array of distracting tingles arced under my skin and I followed him through the darkness without further protest. The torch showed glimpses of arched ceilings and curious nooks, but we stayed in the center of the room and made our way further in. There was a quiet unlike any I’d ever heard. The sound of the wind had died. Only my breathing and our footfalls on the stone floor kept us from total silence.

We walked past casket after casket, each with an effigy on the top. Some of the stone images were clearly those of men. Some had worn smooth with time and were just rounded mounds, the same with the carvings. Words and dates appeared under the torchlight, but other tablets were illegible. The further in we went, the damper the air grew, and the lower the ceilings became. We kept moving until we reached the last casket, the burial place of the oldest king.

I traced my fingertip over the engraved stone, feeling more than seeing the letters and numbers. Cétchathach. 1013. The King held an ancient Celtic cross, and his features had faded away. It must be so weird to know that someone with your own last name was buried here in a date like 1013. That did not happen in America. “This must be it.”

Callum drew us to the left. “Here.” He released my hand and rapped his knuckles against a wooden half door. The thump echoed back a hollow sound and Callum pushed it open into an impossibly darker space. Callum went straight in and I followed him.

The burning from the torch and the smell of the earth filled my nostrils. I moved closer, unwilling to lose the light as our stone floor gave way to hard dirt. I wouldn’t have thought I could walk much further, having reached my limits hours ago, but I did. The passageway wound through the mountain. Callum kept a steady pace but paused anytime I fell back. A hundred yards up another wooden door blocked us.

Callum paused. “Here’s the point where we take King Mael’s hospitality. He will help us.”

I weighed hiding out in the cold versus using King Mael’s assistance. “Ireland
is
known for its hospitality.”

“It’s a great sin to betray your guest.” A smile flitted over the curve of his lips. “By all the rules I was taught, the King owes us, but we owe him too.” A frown creased his forehead and he smoothed his expression. “Don’t be too intriguing, or he may not let you go.” He put his shoulder to the wooden door and pushed, pulling me through behind him.

“Leaving is my decision. Not his.”

“He’s king.” He said the word with finality, imbuing it with a sense of absolute power that did not exist in my world. His tone made it seem as if King Mael had the power of a rock star, NFL quarterback, and the president rolled into one medieval package topped with a crown.

“He’s not my king.”

“He is now.”

The words gave me a jolt. “He’s not keeping me.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“
I
won’t let that happen, and he’s not keeping you either.”

Callum didn’t respond, and he continued into the room. The room was a cupboard that contained casks. “Wine cellar,” Callum said. From there we entered a great room, empty save for a large, crackling fireplace. Callum put the lit torch in one of the iron brackets mounted along the wall.

I held my hands to the flames, and let the warmth touch my freezing skin. “Mmm.” I moved closer and leaned forward, my eyelids closing.

Callum brushed my cheek with his index finger. I assumed he was wiping a smudge but my cheek tingled. He tucked my hair behind my ear, rubbed the ends a few seconds before letting the strand fall. I straightened, ending up closer to him, and he blinked.

“We should keep moving,” I said. “Or I’ll fall asleep right here.”

He stared at me a moment and then nodded and turned away. We went up a large staircase that hugged the left side of the wall. I braced my palm against it and Callum waved his right hand. “No balustrade. Nothing to block your sword arm.”

“Uh. That’s good. Where is everybody? I thought these castles teemed with servants and soldiers.”

“They’re likely outside or upstairs.” We reached the top and Callum eyed the walls. “It’s so weird. It’s the bones of my home. My future home.”

Servants passed us with nods. No one spoke except one boy who was younger than me, but older than my brothers. He scurried up to us. “King Mael sent word for me to show you to your rooms. I’ll have your meal brought up straight away.” His brown eyes shined with pleasure at the duty.

Again, I noted that his joy to serve did not have an equivalent to anything I’d experienced in my time, at least not in America. “Thanks.”

“I’m King Mael’s squire.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Hayley and this is Callum.”

The squire bowed deeply and walked us to a large wooden doorway. “This chamber is reserved for visiting ladies. Lady Hayley can stay here, and I’ll send someone to attend her. If you’ll come with me, Lord Callum, I’ll show you to the knight’s chambers. We’ve reserved an honored room for you.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but Callum’s staying here with me.” The words left my mouth without thought.

Callum’s eyes widened, and his expression grew alert.

The squire glanced between us with an open mouth. “I’ll see to your meal.” He scurried away.

“What do you mean?” Callum asked.

My hands clenched, and I felt a weird sense of hysteria at the thought of being separated from him. This was unlike me. Tanner had dumped me and I got angry and wanted to best him. It must be the bizarre circumstances. It must be that Callum was a part of home. I breathed out to calm down and pushed through the door. “I just meant we can eat together.”

“Oh.” Callum followed me into the candlelit room, and we took seats at the small table. He eyed me steadily. “Who was the guy you were staring at during the decathlon?”

Besides you?
“Tanner. My ex.”

“Hmm.”

“Who are you dating? Is there a website for royalty so you can pick from an approved list?”

“I date who I like. Just preferably Irish. Maybe European. Never American.”

“Should I take offense?”

“I fear it may be my loss.”

“Your parents do know where you were born, don’t they? Texas.”

“All the more reason.”

Whatever else he would have said died with the smell of the savory dinner being carried in by the squire. “Your supper, My Lord. My Lady.” He slid the wooden plate across the table. Two bread bowls rested on top.

How long had it been since we’d eaten? The aroma of soup made my stomach clench. “Thanks.”

The squire bowed his way out of the room.

My spoon hovered over the bowl as I got a good look at the brown goop inside. My appetite left. This didn’t look like any soup I’d ever eaten. I called myself ungrateful and still didn’t stick the spoon in.

Callum dug in. “It’s good. Try it.” For the first time, he looked like one of the guys from my school. Put food in front of them, and they ate it.

I stared hard at a lump in the soup and poked it. “What’s in it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course.”

“Call it pork.”

My spoon dropped to the wooden trencher with a thump. “Call it pork, or it is pork?”

Callum laughed and seemed almost startled by the sound. “It’s carrots, beef, and turnips.” He sunk the spoon in, going for it, and ate a large mouthful.

I hesitated a moment and took a small bite. It tasted like vegetable beef stew, fresh, good. I could eat this. “Okay.” I rolled my shoulders and tried to think of some medieval small talk. “Maybe you can show me some of your karate tricks.”

“You’re a girl in medieval Europe. Your best strategy is to hide.”

I refrained from flicking the soup at him. “There are female fighters in medieval times. Not a lot, grant you, but some were quite famous. What about Joan of Arc?”

He arched one dark eyebrow. “You want to fight?”

“No, but maybe I’ll have to.” I didn’t know how much I should trust him. Crazy Sean was his relative, after all. DNA ran deep.

“When danger comes, your place is to seek safety.” His words sounded dated and I wondered if a touch of medieval thinking had attached itself to him along with our ability to translate.

I snorted and looked at the window. The opening was concealed by a tapestry, no glass. A terrible fear crunched my heart at the thought of my parents never knowing what happened to me. My brothers were too little to understand. None of my own goals or plans would ever be fulfilled, not here, not in this age. I wanted to go home. I wanted both of us to get home. “We’ll get out right? You’ll try?”