Authors: Gabrielle Lord

December (16 page)

‘I didn’t. Not at first. But I started following the tracks on the road—the rain had washed the top layer off—but the road Sligo had taken only forked off to two places.’

I remembered the Y-intersection I’d spotted as I struggled with Zombie Two in the back of the car.

‘I wound up at Roland’s Tower first, searching for you there. Once I’d exhausted that possibility, I backtracked and headed towards the oubliette. I was standing there, thinking it was a dead end, when I heard a cry and realised I was standing on top of you. The rest is history.’

I let my head fall back into the car seat, still struggling to believe I’d been saved. By my uncle.

As we turned back into Carrick, I asked Rafe if he’d stop the car near the river just before the row of houses started.

Rafe waited in the car, while I staggered out and down to the skiffs on the riverbank. It took me a little while to find the right Carrick cot that I’d thrown my bag into. I was shivering with cold when I pulled back a canvas cover and saw with great relief that my backpack was still safely stowed there. Soggy, but safe.

I was just about to haul it onto my back when a shot rang out. The sound sent a shockwave through my body.

My eyes darted up to the car.

I stumbled back up the hill to my uncle, as fast as my legs would take me.

The driver’s door was open.

I hurried around to the driver’s side and fell to my knees in horror.

Rafe’s body was lying half out of the car. His head had fallen to the cobblestones, his neck was twisted and his arms were hanging lifelessly from his body.

‘Rafe!’ I screamed, grabbing at him. ‘Rafe!’ I screamed again, but he wouldn’t respond.

I opened his coat, scared at what I would find.

I was dizzy. Everything was spinning.

All I could see was a big red blur.

He’d been shot in the chest.

Thudding feet approached me, and I shook my head, trying to focus.

‘What’s happened?’ a voice cried.

‘I heard a gunshot,’ cried another.

‘Out of the way,’ said another, as I was
suddenly
pushed back by the small pyjama-clad crowd that had gathered.

Then I heard the two words I was dreading.

‘He’s dead.’

31 DECEMBER

1 day to go …

‘Cal, you’re OK!’ cried Winter, as I opened my eyes. She was looking down at me—I was lying in a sleeping-bag inside a tent.

‘Where am I?’ I asked.

‘It’s OK, you’re safe. You’ve been unconscious for hours—since the Travellers smuggled you back from the accident.’

Winter said the last two words so softly, they were almost a whisper.

Everything flooded back to me. Rafe had been shot.

I couldn’t speak. I was numb.

‘I’m so sorry, Cal.’

I shook my head and fought back tears.

‘We wanted to go with him,’ cried Winter. ‘We wanted to help him find you, but he wouldn’t let us—said it was too dangerous. I can’t believe it. We only just saw him yesterday. He only just got here!’

A woman with hair even wilder than Winter’s handed me a hot drink in a chipped mug, and gently touched my shoulder.

Winter smiled at her, gratefully.

Boges sat down beside me. ‘What happened?’

‘He saved me,’ I said, finally finding my voice. ‘Sligo had thrown me in an oubliette—a deep dungeon. I was minutes from death, praying for the Ormond Angel to come and save me, and then Rafe appeared. It was a miracle. He drove us away—we were headed here—but I’d thrown my backpack into one of the cots by the river when Zombie Two was chasing me, so I asked him to pull over so I could get it. Then I heard a gunshot, ran back to the car and found him lying there … bleeding.’ I was dizzy again at the thought of him lying there so helplessly. ‘Locals started running over. I don’t know what happened after that. I must have blacked out.’

‘You were practically frozen, Cal. You were in shock. You’d lost a lot of blood, too. We’re lucky to have you back so soon,’ said Winter.

There was a pause while we listened to the quiet gypsy camp around us. A fire crackled nearby and I noticed a couple of scruffy kids
looking
our way, peering out from behind tent cloths.

‘What about Mrs Fitzgerald?’ I asked.

‘Mrs Fitz was fine,’ Boges said. ‘We figured we
couldn’t stick around. Not with the Garda asking questions. Winter stole—’

‘Borrowed,’ she corrected him.

‘
Borrowed
one of the Travellers’ horses, and when we came here to return it, they welcomed us in and offered us a place to sleep. Ashling and Quinn said we could stay as long as we wanted. They said they’re always more than happy to help out good folk on the run from the Garda.’

I was hearing some of what Boges and Winter were saying, but Rafe’s face wouldn’t leave my mind. I buried my head in my hands.

‘What are we doing here?’ I asked my friends. ‘People are dying! For what good reason? Why? For the sake of the Ormond Singularity? I don’t even know if I can trust my own mother, so who am I doing this for? Why does it even matter any more?’

‘You have to keep going, Cal,’ insisted Winter.

‘Why should I?’

‘For the rest of your family. For Tom and Rafe. For your great-uncle. For your great-aunt.’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘For all the people who’ve helped you along the way—Jennifer Smith, Lachlan, Melba Snipe, Repro, Ryan Spencer, Nelson Sharkey … For us,’ she added, grabbing Boges’s hand. ‘Me and Boges. We’ve both been here with you for almost all of this insane journey.
We believe in you. We want you to see it through to the end. If you quit now, everything will have been for nothing.’

‘You know she’s right,’ said Boges. ‘Today’s the last day, dude. You can’t give up now. You have to keep it together for just a little bit longer.’

My body was aching. Rafe’s murder was
consuming
my thoughts, and the pressure of having only hours left was sending me into a sweat. But they were right. I had barely one more day to get through. A matter of hours to find the answers.

Everything Dad had left me was pointing to Inisrue Marsh. Was this where I’d find the ruin he’d photographed? Would there be an
inscription
around the walls, like we’d seen in the faded sketch?

For a moment I thought I could hear my dad’s voice again, telling me to keep going. I had to find the Ormond Singularity. I
had
to.

‘The map in the cupboard pointed to Inisrue Marsh,’ said Boges. ‘Winter and I have directions. We’re going there whether you want to or not, and we’re going to find out why it was marked. Now see if you feel strong enough to get up.’

‘OK,’ I said as I began to shakily stand. ‘Did you just say you have directions?’

‘Sure do, thanks to Ashling.’

‘Ashling?’

‘The woman who brought you here,’ explained Boges. ‘She had a book, listing all of Black Tom Butler’s land holdings in Inisrue in the sixteenth century. The bad news is that Inisrue is a swamp, but the good news is that it is home to the ruins of
three
of Black Tom’s buildings—Slievenamon Castle, Cragkill Keep and Ormond Tower. One of them
has
to be the one your dad took the photos of. One of them
has
to hold the secret.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I said, feeling my strength returning.

‘So do I,’ admitted Boges. ‘Winter made a copy of their location, so we don’t get lost.’

‘The buildings were originally on an island in the middle of the river,’ Winter added, ‘but that
was hundreds of years ago. They’re still there, but now the island has turned into an
unpredictable
swampland. We’ll have to be really careful.’

‘At least we don’t have to worry about
Rathbone
any more,’ I said. ‘Thanks to Sligo.’

‘What?’ asked Winter, suspiciously. ‘He killed him?’ she guessed.

I nodded. ‘He said the bogs have already proven to be a great place for dumping a body …’

My hands were sore, red and swollen from the failed attempts to climb the deadly spike, so Boges helped me slowly shuffle into warmer clothes. I was getting worried. We’d come all this way, I’d survived almost a year, despite the dangers of the Ormond Singularity. One of these ruins
had
to be the place.

I could feel Boges and Winter looking
expectantly
at me. Whether the ruins were rubble or not, we needed to search them.

‘So we have three ruins to search,’ said Winter, as she shoved bits and pieces back into her bag. ‘We have about ten hours left. Before midnight. Before the Ormond Singularity runs out.’

‘Even if we
do
find whatever the Ormond
Singularity
is before midnight,’ I said, ‘how do we
prove it? There’ll be no-one there to witness it, except us.’

‘Relax, dude,’ said Boges. ‘I’ll film it on my mobile.’

I was moving awkwardly, in pain, as I gathered my things. I had been counting on everything falling magically into place over here, but I was still unsure of the basics. How was I going to clear my name?

I didn’t see
Lives of the Saints
on the floor until I skidded on it, twisting my ankle, and
falling
hard.

I yelped in pain. ‘Useless book!’ I shouted, picking it up and throwing it at the wall of the tent. It made a slapping sound on the
tarpaulin-like
fabric before hitting the ground.

‘Take it easy,’ said Boges. He picked it up from the floor. ‘This is a valuable old book, man.
Was
a valuable old book,’ he corrected.

The cracked leather on the spine of the book had come apart, and the front cover was left hanging by a few threads.

I looked closer. Where the binding had come away from the book’s spine I could now see a narrow strip of vellum that had been wrapped around under it. Some kind of reinforcement for the stitching?

I snatched it from Boges and peered even
closer. The piece of vellum was familiar. It had been sewn into the underside of the cover, but was now loose because of the torn stitching.

Carefully I pulled it out.

‘Unbelievable,’ I breathed, mesmerised,
smoothing
it out.

‘What is it?’ Winter asked, coming over to see.

Slowly, I held up the piece of vellum.

Winter blinked, amazed. ‘It’s the missing part of the Ormond Riddle! The last two lines!’

‘Dude! Let’s have a look!’ said Boges, leaning over her shoulder, staring at the strip that I was holding up.