Trespass: A Tale of Mystery and Suspense Across Time (The Darkeningstone Book 1) by Mikey Campling Page A
Authors: Mikey Campling
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said. “Let’s start again.” I took a breath. “My name’s Jake—what shall I call you?”
She looked me in the eye. “OK,” she said. “I’m Cally—short for Callisto.”
“Like the moon?”
“I’m afraid so.” She shrugged. “New Age parents.”
“No,” I said. “It’s a nice name.”
“Whatever,” she said. But I could tell she was pleased.
“And you’re here with your dad?”
“Er, no.”
“But you said…”
“Sorry—I just made that up. Just in case…you know.”
I nodded wisely. I didn’t blame her. I could’ve been anybody. And now she’d owned up to her white lie; it might mean she thought I was OK. “So who’s this team?”
“Professor Leyland—he’s an archaeologist—a couple of his PhD students, and there’s four of us volunteers helping out. Looks good on the college application form.”
“And where are they now?” I asked.
“They’re up there,” she said and nodded upwards. “I’d call them on my phone, but there’s no signal down here; it’s a real pain.” The slope above us was more gentle and dotted with trees. Somewhere up there I knew there was another high fence and beyond that, a windswept football field. For a second, I pictured a man in a white coat playing football. Cally saw my blank expression and added, “They’ve set up a base camp on the top, where it’s level. The prof’s up there now—he’s in charge of the dig.”
“Dig?” I said. I looked around. There was no sign of any digging going on.
“We call it a dig,” she said. “But we’ve only just got started, and we’re not allowed to actually dig anything up here—not yet anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh there’s some problem with the paperwork and the permission and,” she pulled a face and made some air quotes, “the druids .”
I stifled a laugh and copied her air quotes. “Druids? Around here?”
“You’d better believe it,” she said. “A whole gaggle of them. And the funny thing is, they’re the ones who aren’t allowed in here. This is private property, and we’re the ones who’ve got permission from the owner.”
“Hmm,” I said. I thought of the fence and the warning signs. Should I tell her I was trespassing?
“Anyway,” she said. “You haven’t even seen the best bit yet.”
She leaned over the stone and rubbed the dirt from one corner. Then she leaned closer, spat on the surface and rubbed it again. “Look,” she said.
It was a good opportunity to stand closer to her, and I took it. I leaned forward and for a moment I could smell the shampoo in her hair. And then I forced myself to concentrate on the stone. And gasped.
I was expecting to see a smooth stone surface, perhaps like a piece of marble. Instead, I was looking deep inside it. It was the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen. The entire platform was carved from some sort of dark crystal. It was almost black but translucent, like black ice. The sunlight entered into it and danced inside. I knew, without doubt, that this black stone was unique. And I knew that whatever it took, I had to find out more. I turned toward Cally. She looked me in the eye, studying my reaction. Neither of us spoke. This was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. In that instant, everything changed. I was now involved with this beautiful, mystifying black stone. What I did not know was that this moment, and its consequences, would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Chapter 15
3,500 BC
BURLIC STOOD AT THE EDGE of the pit floor, alone and desolate. I should’ve rushed in, he thought, used the darkness. I should’ve surprised Waeccan while he slept, held a knife to his throat, made it quick.
But he had hesitated. His mind had reeled with a lifetime of dark tales—tales whispered as the fire died down to dull embers and the shadows grew deeper and flickered into life. In the village the Shades were kept at bay; the symbol carved over every the door, the dried herbs hanging in every hut
She looked me in the eye. “OK,” she said. “I’m Cally—short for Callisto.”
“Like the moon?”
“I’m afraid so.” She shrugged. “New Age parents.”
“No,” I said. “It’s a nice name.”
“Whatever,” she said. But I could tell she was pleased.
“And you’re here with your dad?”
“Er, no.”
“But you said…”
“Sorry—I just made that up. Just in case…you know.”
I nodded wisely. I didn’t blame her. I could’ve been anybody. And now she’d owned up to her white lie; it might mean she thought I was OK. “So who’s this team?”
“Professor Leyland—he’s an archaeologist—a couple of his PhD students, and there’s four of us volunteers helping out. Looks good on the college application form.”
“And where are they now?” I asked.
“They’re up there,” she said and nodded upwards. “I’d call them on my phone, but there’s no signal down here; it’s a real pain.” The slope above us was more gentle and dotted with trees. Somewhere up there I knew there was another high fence and beyond that, a windswept football field. For a second, I pictured a man in a white coat playing football. Cally saw my blank expression and added, “They’ve set up a base camp on the top, where it’s level. The prof’s up there now—he’s in charge of the dig.”
“Dig?” I said. I looked around. There was no sign of any digging going on.
“We call it a dig,” she said. “But we’ve only just got started, and we’re not allowed to actually dig anything up here—not yet anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh there’s some problem with the paperwork and the permission and,” she pulled a face and made some air quotes, “the druids .”
I stifled a laugh and copied her air quotes. “Druids? Around here?”
“You’d better believe it,” she said. “A whole gaggle of them. And the funny thing is, they’re the ones who aren’t allowed in here. This is private property, and we’re the ones who’ve got permission from the owner.”
“Hmm,” I said. I thought of the fence and the warning signs. Should I tell her I was trespassing?
“Anyway,” she said. “You haven’t even seen the best bit yet.”
She leaned over the stone and rubbed the dirt from one corner. Then she leaned closer, spat on the surface and rubbed it again. “Look,” she said.
It was a good opportunity to stand closer to her, and I took it. I leaned forward and for a moment I could smell the shampoo in her hair. And then I forced myself to concentrate on the stone. And gasped.
I was expecting to see a smooth stone surface, perhaps like a piece of marble. Instead, I was looking deep inside it. It was the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen. The entire platform was carved from some sort of dark crystal. It was almost black but translucent, like black ice. The sunlight entered into it and danced inside. I knew, without doubt, that this black stone was unique. And I knew that whatever it took, I had to find out more. I turned toward Cally. She looked me in the eye, studying my reaction. Neither of us spoke. This was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. In that instant, everything changed. I was now involved with this beautiful, mystifying black stone. What I did not know was that this moment, and its consequences, would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Chapter 15
3,500 BC
BURLIC STOOD AT THE EDGE of the pit floor, alone and desolate. I should’ve rushed in, he thought, used the darkness. I should’ve surprised Waeccan while he slept, held a knife to his throat, made it quick.
But he had hesitated. His mind had reeled with a lifetime of dark tales—tales whispered as the fire died down to dull embers and the shadows grew deeper and flickered into life. In the village the Shades were kept at bay; the symbol carved over every the door, the dried herbs hanging in every hut
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