Twist of the Blade (20 page)

Would she?
Wally thought. He thought of Major’s vague, exciting suggestion that he, too, might have special powers.
Would I, if I were in her place?

He didn’t know. But after what had happened to Flish, he was beginning to think Ariane and everyone around her would at least be
safer
if she didn’t have her powers.

The soldier and policeman were both watching them now, looking decidedly unfriendly. They’d obviously outstayed their welcome. “All right,” he repeated.

Major smiled. “This way,” he said. Wally followed him toward the street.

~~~

Ariane waited in the equipment shed for an hour before someone came to see her. She looked up, expecting the mysterious Dr. Beaudry – but it was only the English-speaking guard. “I have brought water,” he said, setting a large plastic bottle on a crate just inside the door. “Do you need to use the toilet?”

Well, she did, now that he mentioned it. And if there were enough water in that toilet...“Oui, s’il vous plaît.”

He nodded. “This way,” he said indicating she should follow him.

Her brief flicker of hope died when she entered the porta-potty and closed the door behind her. The only liquid she could sense was what had collected in the storage tank at the unit’s base, and she shuddered at the thought of trying to do anything with
that
. As soon as she emerged, she was taken back to the shed and locked up once more. The guard refused to answer any of the questions she asked him about how much longer she would have to wait for Dr. Beaudry.

She huddled there in the semi-darkness, taking a sip from the bottle of water periodically, as the afternoon wore away.
Wally’s in Lyon by now
, she thought.
He’ll be wondering where I am. What will he do?

What
could
he do? Without her to guide him, he didn’t have a clue where the second shard could be. He would have to check into their hotel and wait.

He could phone home
, she thought uneasily. She thought of Aunt Phyllis answering that call, hearing from Wally that he was in France, but Ariane hadn’t arrived...

Picturing Aunt Phyllis’s distress made her feel sick, but there was nothing she could do about it.
I screwed up
, she thought, not for the first time.

Finally, when the light streaming in through the narrow windows had taken on the distinctive blue tint of twilight, just when she’d started to worry they intended to leave her in the equipment shed all night, she heard a vehicle pull up outside, its lights flashing across the windows.

A car door slammed. Muffled voices grew louder, and then she heard someone fumbling with the padlock. She scrambled to her feet as the doors slid open.

Her English-speaking guard stood behind a much shorter (and balder), man, whom she had last seen emerging from the cave. “Dr. Beaudry, I presume?” she said.

His mouth twitched into an almost-smile, and she felt a flood of relief. He obviously wasn’t the monster her imagination had been building him up into over the past few hours.

And also, he spoke English.

“René Beaudry, oui. Director of Prehistoric Antiquities for Midi-Pyrénées, so appointed by the Ministry of Culture,” he said. His voice was soft and calm. “And you are...?”

She felt a moment’s panic. What name had she given the guards? “Ar...Arial. Arial Muirhead.” That was it.
Mrs. Muirhead
, she told herself.
Just think of
Macbeth.

“Canadian, I am told?”

“Yes.”

“But not
French
-Canadian, obviously?” Again, that flicker of a smile.

“No,” said Ariane. “I’m from Saskatchewan.”

“Well, Arial Muirhead from Sas-kat-chew-an,” he stumbled over the province’s name a little, “come out here, please. We must have a chat.” He stepped aside, and she exited the equipment shed with relief.

The sun had set and stars pricked the cloudless sky. The temperature had dropped substantially, and she’d left her jacket on the box on which she’d been sitting. She wrapped her arms round herself. Dr. Beaudry noticed and turned to the guard. “Donnez-lui votre manteau,” he said, and the guard nodded and took off his uniform jacket, handing it to Ariane. Gratefully she draped it over her shoulders. “My apologies for any discomfort you have suffered, Arial,” said Dr. Beaudry. He gave the guard a hard look. “The equipment shed is the only building in which you could be locked. I have told my men they should have put you in the trailer instead and simply waited outside the door for my return. It is not like you are a prisoner of war!”

“Um...it’s all right,” Ariane said. “I was just a little scared, wondering how much trouble I was in.”

“That is what we must determine,” said Dr. Beaudry. He studied her, though he couldn’t have seen her very well in the dim light. “So, Arial Muirhead. What are you doing here? You seem very young to be travelling Europe on your own. Where are your parents?”

“I don’t have any,” she said. Which was true enough. “And I’m not as young as I look. I’m...eighteen.” The farmer and his wife had believed that lie...hadn’t they?...but Dr. Beaudry’s left eyebrow raised skeptically, and she rushed on. “I’m doing that backpacking-across-Europe thing.”

“A girl of your age?” Dr. Beaudry’s left eyebrow descended and knitted with his right into a deep frown. “Très dangereux!”

“I can take care of myself,” Ariane said.

“Vraiment?” Dr. Beaudry looked toward the trail that led down to the tent and the cavern entrance. “And why, exactly, did you try to enter the cavern?”

Ariane shrugged. “I saw you come out. I thought it might be interesting.”

“Interesting enough to risk being captured by the guards?”

“There weren’t any guards when I entered,” she said truthfully.

“Ah. Oui. Very odd, that.” Dr. Beaudry glanced at the guard. “There seems to have been an unusual... surge...from the river. We are very fortunate it did not flood the cavern.”

“What’s so special about the cavern?” Ariane said.

“You do not know?” Dr. Beaudry’s eyes narrowed. “You really only entered it for a...what’s the English expression...a lark?”

“I was bored. I thought it might be fun.”

Dr. Beaudry spread his hands. “That cavern contains some of the most amazing cave paintings ever found anywhere in the world...amazing not only for their size and complexity, but because of their age: the oldest are at least 35,000 years old. Maybe more.”

Ariane blinked. Rex Major and the Lady of the Lake had been around a thousand years ago, and that seemed unimaginably ancient. But 35,000...! “How did they survive so long?”

“Pure chance,” said Dr. Beaudry. “At some time the cliff face collapsed and sealed off what was once the main entrance. Much, much later, another earthquake opened a new way in, the way you entered. The interior has been untouched for millennia, except for small animals and birds, whose bones litter the floor. Also, the cavern is very dry...unusually so.”

Even though part of her was screaming at her to get away, find Wally, and grab the shard, Ariane was genuinely interested in the cave paintings...but the comment about the lack of water in the cavern captured her attention in an entirely different way. “But I thought caverns almost always have water in them. Aren’t they formed by water?”

“Oui,” said Dr. Beaudry. “And so was this one. But the water has receded. There is very little in the cavern now.”

“No pools? No underground rivers?”
Uh-oh....

“In the main cavern, there is a very shallow pool,” Dr. Beaudry said, “which appears to have once been much larger. The water drips into it from the ceiling, very slowly. Much, much deeper in the cavern, we have found a more sizable pool, which may be fed by an underground river.”

“Is it big enough to swim in?”

Dr. Beaudry frowned. “What an odd question,” he said. “And I think I have answered enough of them. I must decide what to do with you.”

“Please let me go,” Ariane pleaded. “I’m sorry I sneaked into the cavern. I didn’t know it was so special.”

“You knew it was guarded and you were told by the guards not to enter it,” Dr. Beaudry said. “There are heavy fines for trespassing in a nationally protected site of antiquities. I should turn you over to the gendarmerie.”

Ariane started to beg him not to do that, but then realized that the gendarmerie would at least have running water in their bathroom. “If you must.”

Dr. Beaudry smiled. “But I will not. I do not believe you understood the gravity of your offense. Having been locked up all afternoon, however, perhaps you do now.”

“I do,” Ariane said.

“Then you are free to go,” said Dr. Beaudry. He looked up at the darkening sky. “I will drive you to the village.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ariane said. “Merci beaucoup.”

“It is not far,” said Dr. Beaudry. He held out his hand. “I think Philippe would very much like his coat back before we go.”

Ariane slipped it off her shoulders and handed it to the guard. “Merci, Philippe,” she said.

“De rien,” Phillipe replied. He held out her own dusty jacket and her backpack, which he had retrieved from the storage shed. “Bonne soirée,” he added, and headed back down the path, presumably to spend the night in the tent.

Dr. Beaudry led Ariane to his vehicle, a brand-new Renault SUV. He opened the passenger door for her, waited while she climbed in, then closed the door, went around the front and got in behind the wheel. She relaxed into the black leather seat and suddenly found her eyelids heavy. What time was it back in Saskatchewan?

“There is a small hotel in Cellier de l’Abbaye,” said Dr. Beaudry. “Have you any money?”

“Yes,” Ariane said.

“Then I will take you there.” He gave her a smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes!” She hadn’t realized it until he asked, but she was ravenous.

“I did not eat my lunch today. You may have it. In the glove compartment.”

Ariane popped open the glove compartment and took out a plastic container. She peeled it open to find bread, meat, cheese and fat green olives, and tore into everything with far-from-ladylike zeal. Dr. Beaudry eyed her out of the corner of his eye. “You are
sure
you have money for the hotel?”

“Yes,” Ariane said, between mouthfuls. “Honestly.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Beaudry didn’t sound convinced.

The unpaved road, little more than a rutted track, twisted back and forth around limestone outcroppings and through stretches of forest. But after fifteen minutes it joined a paved road that a few minutes later brought them to a village, all narrow winding streets and gangly stone buildings. Dr. Beaudry stopped in front of a rather grand structure whose facade was unmistakably that of a church, with Gothic arches and a stone cross above the main entrance. “Auberge de l’Abbaye,” Ariane read on the low, stone-framed sign in front. “Abbey Inn?”

“The Abbey that gave the village its name,” Dr. Beaudry said. “Now a hotel. Rather expensive, I’m afraid, but the
Ardèche region is a major tourist destination. Fortunately, it is past high season and there will be vacancies.”

Ariane nodded. She opened the door and got out of the SUV, reaching back inside for her backpack. “I’m sorry for trying to sneak into your cavern,” she said. “Thank you for not reporting me to the police.”

“You are welcome, Arial.” A smile flickered across Dr. Beaudry’s face, then vanished. “But if I see you there a second time, I will not be so lenient!”

“I understand,” Ariane said. She closed the door and watched as he drove away.

A doorman emerged into the courtyard through the tall iron-bound doors. “Mademoiselle?” he said. “Puis-je vous aider?” When Ariane hesitated, he switched to English. “You are checking in?”

“I...” Ariane thought how wonderful it would be to sleep in a nice comfortable hotel room, to get up in the morning and enjoy a leisurely breakfast, to maybe take a walk around the village...she was in France, after all!

But she stiffened her resolve and her spine, and instead said to the doorman, “No, I’m afraid not. But...if I may use your washroom?” He looked confused. “La...toilette?”

His face cleared. “Mais oui,” he said. “Suivez-moi.”

He led her into the lobby.

Unlike its facade, the lobby of the Auberge de l’Abbaye retained nothing of its ecclesiastical heritage, unless the ancient abbot or abbess had taken a highly unconventional approach to the vow of poverty. In light of all the marble, crystal and polished brass on display, Ariane suspected her small store of euros would barely have bought her a single night. It was all so grand she was almost surprised to be allowed to use the lobby washroom, but there was, after all no one else around and the doorman seemed a decent-enough fellow. Or maybe he was just bored.

Well
, Ariane thought,
his evening is about to become a lot less boring...because the girl he’s showing into the bathroom isn’t coming out again.

Dr. Beaudry had said there was a large pool deep inside the cavern. She thought it must be the body of water she’d previously sensed, the one she’d been afraid to materialize in for fear it was completely enclosed in rock. Since he knew of it, it must both be open to the air and offer access to the rest of the cavern. That would be her route in.