Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (9 page)

Erin jumped to her feet and tore after them. She knew the mortifer would be headed for the dreamer, and she had to reach him. But who was this man? What was he? What was he doing here?

She ran over the jagged rocky floor through the maze of caverns, trying to keep him in sight. They raced on and on until Erin no longer had any sense of how far they had gone, or in what direction the entrance lay. In nearly complete darkness, her night-eyes could still make out the wraithlike shape of the man running in front of her. He favored his right side, limping slightly—probably wounded from the mortifer’s blow. Gradually he slowed, then stopped. Erin stopped behind him.

“Shhhh…” he breathed.

She froze.

They crept forward again without a sound, and then Erin could hear it: a low moan came from up ahead. They were close now. The man reached back and touched Erin’s arm with his gloved hand.

They crept nearer, and the moaning grew louder. At last, around the next corner, they found the terrified dreamer.

A small chamber, lit by the red flame of a candle on the floor, opened off the passageway. Frost covered the walls, which glowed red like blood from the flame, and red icicles hung from above the door. Shadows grew and faded as the flame flickered. The stench gagged Erin, and she covered her mouth. The dreamer, maybe fifty years old, was naked and chained to the wall with his arms overhead. The mortifer loomed over him with his knife, tracing long lines across the dreamer’s chest with its pointed blade. Blood oozed from the wounds and trickled down his body, dripping to the floor. Erin’s heart beat hard in her throat, and her stomach lurched with every moan the dreamer made. He tried to shrink against the wall, but the shadow laughed deeply in its throat and began to slice his skin again.

Suddenly it stopped and stood up tall, nearly filling the chamber. Its gleaming red eyes turned toward them, and it swung its knife up to attack.

Erin clenched her teeth and reached into her boot. She pulled out her own knife and let it fly. It hit the shadow squarely in the chest and split it open, its hollow cry filling the cavern as it exploded into black mist. The dreamer screamed, and the strange man rushed to him. Erin’s knife fell to the floor. The man touched the shackles, and they fell away from the dreamer’s arms and legs, while he crumpled to the ground, trembling and sobbing.

Erin dropped to her knees beside him. “It’s gone now—they are gone.”

The stranger said, “Over there—a cloak.” A brown cloak hung on a nearby peg. Erin grabbed it and wrapped it around the dreamer’s shoulders; he sat up and pulled it tight around himself, still shaking.

“Where did they go? Why are they doing this to me?” he asked, looking up at the man.

“They won’t hurt you again tonight, but we need to hurry,” said the stranger. “We must leave while we have the chance.”

The man shrank back again. “Aren’t we safe here now?”

“No, we have to go,” the stranger said. “They may return. We’ll stay with you until you’re safe.”

Erin put her hand on the dreamer’s shoulder. “What is your name?”

“Bagley. My name is Bagley.”

“Give me your hand,” she said.

“Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.” Bagley looked up at the strange man. “I remember you.”

“Yes, I’ve been here with you before. Now come, we need to go. We’ll shine a light through all the chambers and tunnels so you can see which way to go.”

But Bagley shrank back against the wall. “No, I couldn’t. I can’t. I’m so afraid.”

Erin sat beside him and touched his face with both of her hands, like a mother soothing a frightened child. “Then just a little way. Come, I will hold your hand. We can go slowly, and I’ll stay with you. Just a few steps.”

He looked into her face. Erin took his hands into both of hers, and she felt her warmth flow into him. Bagley’s face relaxed. They stood, and Erin picked up the candle and coaxed him down the hallway in the dark, shining the candle’s light into every room they passed, while the strange man limped behind them through the cavern’s maze.

The tunnels were vast and silent, and Erin encouraged him to choose their direction each time they came to a crossroads. He shivered and moaned, and Erin paused several times to soothe him. At long last, she heard a low hiss from up ahead. They came to an opening in the rock wall, and beyond, the wind blew across a field of tall grass in the starlight.

Bagley stopped and looked all around, breathing deeply. His form faded away, and Erin relaxed and sank to the ground.

The tall man stood beside her and said, “You have a healing touch.”

She looked up at his stern face, and he slowly disappeared. “Wait,” she called after him, but he was gone.
Who was he?
When he had tossed her against the wall, she had been sure he was her enemy. But he had fought the mortifers.
For his own purpose, perhaps?
She lay back on the soft grass and closed her eyes, thankful she had been able to help the tortured dreamer. That was the important thing.

Chapter 12

Erin slid into the booth beside the window, and Gary sat beside her. Gwen, Matthew, and Jacob took the opposite seat. Around them more ferry passengers found places to sit: families with diaper bags, college students with backpacks, and other people of all ages, many coming to ride bikes along the winding, scenic roads of Orcas Island.

Gary rested his arm over Erin’s shoulders as they looked out the window. With the ride more than an hour long, Matt and Jacob decided to explore, and Gwen asked if she could go with them.

“Don’t make me take her. It IS my birthday,” Matt said.

“Just for fifteen minutes, then bring her back to us,” Erin said.

“Oh, okay.”

The kids left, and Gary and Erin watched as the ferry pulled away from the Anacortes dock and blew its whistle. He leaned over and kissed the back of her neck. “That was a great breakfast.”

“Thanks.” She looked at his face, right next to hers. Gazing past her out the window, his eyes were pale blue in the bright light. He glanced at her and grinned, showing his perfect white teeth and deep dimples. His smile almost felt like another kiss. She wondered how she had ended up on a ferry with this attractive man, a man she hadn’t even remembered a couple weeks ago.

They sat back and watched the islands go by as the ferry plowed through the water. The sunshine glittered on the dark surface of the Sound, and steep rocky shores led to grassy hills and then to the pine and fir trees of the island forests.

Gary said, “I’ve lived in Seattle for ten years—been all over the world, but never here. It’s beautiful.”

Erin smiled. “Yes, one of the best places on earth.”

Gwen bounced into the booth and announced, “There’s a restaurant here, and they have cinnamon rolls. Can I get one? And Matt brought me back because I have to go to the bathroom.”

Erin laughed. “Well, then, let’s go find it.”

They found the restroom and went to the café for a cinnamon roll. The ferry was pulling into Lopez Island, the first stop, so they strolled to the forward deck to watch. A little road wound up the hillside from the dock into the trees, and a few buildings lined the road. Erin pointed out the seals playing on the beach, and Gwen laughed at them and threw pieces of her roll to the swooping seagulls.

As the ferry pulled away and they turned to go back inside, Erin noticed a man lounging on the bench behind her. He was watching her, but he looked away when she caught his glance. She studied him; he was tall and lean, his legs stretched out straight in front of him, ankles crossed. He wore a black leather jacket, and his short, dark hair was combed back. His face was a little weathered and he had a couple days’ growth of beard, but his dark gray eyes were bright as he gazed over the water. He seemed familiar.

He looked back at her with a questioning expression in his eyes. She realized she’d been staring at him and turned away. Redness rose in her cheeks, and she took Gwen’s hand, pushed open the door, and went back inside. She picked up some coffee at the snack bar for herself and Gary before they went back to their booth.

Matt and Jacob got back just as Erin and Gwen sat down. The captain announced over the intercom that it was time for passengers to return to their vehicles, so they gathered their things and headed back to the stairs. Gwen needed to use the restroom again, so Erin rushed to guide her there.

They raced down the aisle, rounded a corner, and Erin slammed into the same tall man she’d seen earlier. Her cardboard coffee cup smashed into his shirt, gushed coffee down his front, and she lost her balance. He grabbed her to keep her from falling, then stepped back in surprise. He looked down at his white shirt and jeans, soaked with her coffee.

Erin stood staring at him and his clothes. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me see if I can clean it up—are you all right?” She pulled some tissues from her bag and started to dab at the coffee on his shirt.

He pushed her hand away. “No, don’t, that won’t help.”

She looked at his face. “I’m sorry. Are … are you all right?”

His frown softened into a small smile. “Yeah, just wet. Are you okay?” He took one of her tissues and swiped at his pants. “I guess neither of us were watching where we were going.” He turned to Gwen. “Are you all right, young lady?”

“I’m fine. You’re the ones who crashed,” she said.

He grinned.

“Gwen, we’ve got to go. There’s the restroom—go ahead—I’ll wait here.”

Gwen ran into the nearby restroom, and Erin turned to the man. The left corner of his mouth was lifted into a smile.

“I’ve got to get down to my car, so I’ll just say I hope we meet under better circumstances next time.” He turned around and ran down the nearby stairs to the car deck. She watched his back until he passed through the door below. Shaking her head, she picked up her crushed cup from the floor and looked at the puddle of coffee.

As soon as Gwen came out of the restroom they dashed down the stairs to the car. Gwen said, “Mommy crashed into a man and spilled her coffee on him.”

Gary laughed and said, “Was it still hot?”

“No, just warm.”

“Good thing.”

Erin groaned as they got into the car.

They drove off the ferry and wound up the hill, past the few shops near the dock, and on through a small forest of fir trees. Bright sunshine warmed the air. They wound their way over the island and drove through the pleasant waterfront village of Eastsound, heading to the other side of the island and the state park. They continued past the lake and picnic area, and started the long, winding climb to the top of Mt. Constitution. As the car struggled up the steep mountainside, Jacob and Matthew’s eyes grew wider.

“I forgot how far it is to the top,” Matt said.

They drove higher and higher. Gwen stretched her arm out the window and brushed her fingertips across the leaves of the trees; there were no shoulders on the narrow road. They crossed a one-lane bridge and kept climbing.

“How high is this mountain?” asked Gary.

Erin grinned. “About twenty-four hundred feet. It’s the highest point in all the San Juan Islands.”

“The view from the top must be amazing,” he said.

She nodded. “There’s a tower up there that we can climb, and we’ll be able to see for miles.”

They finally arrived at the top, and Gwen, Matt, and Jacob ran down the path to the lookout tower with Erin and Gary strolling after them. Trees shaded the parking lot, and as they came out of the woods into the clearing, the brilliant sunshine was blinding. Erin’s eyes soon became accustomed to it, and she looked around at the view below.

The expanse of Puget Sound stretched out to join with the sky on the hazy horizon, and islands dotted the water with green. She looked east to see Mount Baker, and south to Mount Rainier, both mountains still snowy white. Two ferries in the distance were plowing through the water.

Gary said, “I had no idea. This is incredible.”

The children had already climbed the stone steps to the top of the tower, so Erin and Gary followed them up the winding stairs. From the top they looked out in every direction.

“This tower was built in the 1930s, modeled after lookout towers from the 1300s,” Erin told him.

“It does look medieval,” he said.

Erin pointed out the mountains. “Sometimes you can even see Mt. St. Helens from up here.”

They walked back down the stairs and looked into some of the small locked-off rooms they passed.

“Doesn’t it make you think of a medieval prison cell?” Erin asked.

Gary laughed. “And torture.”

“I think I’ve dreamed about towers like this.”

When they reached the bottom, Erin gathered the children together again, and they made their way back to the car. Gary reached for Erin’s hand. “I’ve dreamed of towers like that, too.”

“Is that good or bad?”

He shrugged. “Neither, I guess. Just curious.” He looked back at the tower behind them.

“Let’s go find a picnic spot,” said Erin. “It’s high time for lunch.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Jacob. “I’m starved.”

They piled into the car and wound their way back down the hill.

Matt said, “We should ride down this hill. It’d be awesome! We could probably go fifty miles an hour.”

“We could go faster than that,” said Gary. “This is some hill.”

Erin glanced at Gary. “I don’t think so, guys—this is just too steep and long.”

They passed a group of bicyclists riding down the hill.

“Look—they’re doing it,” said Jacob.

Gwen said, “I’m not riding down this hill.”

“No one said you had to,” said Matt.

When they reached the highway, they turned right and drove to the picnic area—a large, flat, grassy spot beside the lake, with picnic tables, a concession stand, and a swimming area. They found a table near the lake under the shelter of a large maple tree and carried their picnic gear from the car. Erin spread a tablecloth on the table, then covered it with paper plates and the food. The cake was placed in the middle.

Gary said, “Wow, this is some picnic.”

Erin surveyed the table with her hands on her hips. “We like to do things right.”