Corvan scrambled into the castle to find Kate sitting in the dirt. The thick body of a large garter snake was stretched out toward her. A long stick from the ruined fort lay next to its crushed head. Relief flowed over Corvan as he knelt beside her.
“Are you okay?”
“You know I hate snakes,” Kate said, shaking her head.
Corvan grabbed the dead snake by the tail and carried it over to the edge of the castle rocks. It was a real beauty, one of the largest he’d ever seen. He tossed its long body into the field down below. A coyote or owl would soon make a meal of it.
Turning back, he found Kate already on her feet and brushing the dust off her jeans.
“I thought the lizard was attacking you,” Corvan said, instantly wishing he hadn’t mentioned it again.
Kate nodded. “I came here to prove that the lizard was just in your imagination, but …” She pointed to where his pile of rocks had been. Kate had moved them to one side, and the dark hole through which the lizard had disappeared gaped at him.
Corvan tugged the hammer from his back pocket and held it out. “Did you see it?” he asked without taking his eyes off the spot.
“No. You said the lizard only comes out at night.”
“I don’t know for sure.” Corvan muttered as he was edging closer. “Did the snake come out of the hole?”
“No,” Kate replied, pointing at the rock. “The snake was on the other side. I was following the lines, so I could see the rest.”
“The rest of what?”
“The door. See how flat the stone is in front? That lone hole is just a gap between the rocks that are holding two slabs apart. It’s like the two sides of an elevator door, except its flat on the ground.”
Corvan crouched by the large rock with the hammer in hand. Where Kate had scraped away the dirt, he could make out two parallel lines about 6 inches apart. Between them were the bumpy outlines of rocks under the mud. The two lines vanished under the large rock.
“It’s likely just a big crack the rain has washed stuff into,” Corvan said while glancing up at Kate.
Kate pointed with a grubby hand. “You need to look on the other side.”
Corvan crawled around the large rock and found the lines continued a short distance before each bent out at precisely ninety degrees.
Corvan traced the lines with a finger. “This must be something the first people carved,” he said. “Like the rock paintings in the caves by the river. My father says this hill was a sacred place to them.”
Kate knelt beside him. “You could be right. I had just found some strange carved symbols when that snake slithered out.” She brushed a pile of dirt away from the base of the boulder. “I think we need to move this big rock to see the rest. I hope there’s no more snakes under it.”
Kate moved back as Corvan inspected the cleared area. The marks cut deeply into the stone weren’t strange at all, they were like the glowing marks on the hammer and carved into his chest. If Kate was right and this was a door, the hammer might open up a cave under Castle Rock. He stood up to push with all his might against the boulder. Kate joined him, and it rocked slightly.
“We need a pry bar,” Corvan said. “My father has some long pipes in the cellar.”
Retreating down the rock, Kate spoke over her shoulder. “I saw some tracks when I was moving the dirt.”
Corvan caught up to her. “Three toes with claws?”
Kate nodded. “Are they from your lizard?”
“Yes. Those are the tracks I saw this summer.”
“And it’s three feet tall?” Kate asked.
“Maybe not quite that high, but it’s almost up to your waist when it’s next to you.”
Kate stopped in the field at the bottom of the water channel and looked up at the rock. “I don’t want to see it that close.” She looked closely at his face. “What happened after … after it talked to you?”
“I told it to go away and held the hammer up in front of me. It’s really scared of the hammer. It won’t even touch it without cloth wrapped around its paws, so I think we’re safe if we have the hammer with us.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
As they were approaching the house, Corvan heard gravel crunching in the driveway out front and the slam of the truck door. “Sounds like my parents are home. Do you think we should show my father the cracks and carving in the rock?”
“It might be best. He knows a lot about the history of this place,” Kate said.
Corvan stopped and touched Kate’s shoulder. “For now, maybe we should keep the hammer a secret. Just between us.”
Kate nodded silently.
They met Corvan’s mother at the corner of the house. She was walking slowly with her head down. Once she saw them, she wiped tears from her eyes.
“What’s wrong, mom? Where’s dad?” Corvan asked.
“Let’s go inside the house,” she replied. “I need to sit a minute.”
They followed her in, and mother sat at the kitchen table. “Kate, can you get me a cup of cold water.”
Kate filled a glass and joined them at the table.
Corvan’s mother lifted the cup but didn’t take a drink.
“We got a call from Fred Simpson this morning. He arranged for your dad to start a job up north at the Langdon mine, but he had to go right away, so I took him into the Fenwood bus station.” She stared into her cup for a moment. “It’s a long way from here. We won’t see him for a least a month, but we need the money if we’re going to make it through the winter.”
Corvan frowned. “Why can’t he keep working here at the Red Creek mine?”
“At the meeting, the owners told the miners they are shutting that mine down for a while. They breached an underground river, and the lower shafts are filling up with water. The owners are telling the men the ground is too unstable around here and they have lost too much money. They might close the Red Creek mine for good.”
Kate slid her chair away from the table and quietly made her way toward the door.
“You don’t have to leave, dear,” Corvan’s mother said. “Fred gave us a fresh chicken for supper. You’re welcome to join us.”
“That would be great,” Kate said with a nod. “Thanks.”
Corvan’s mother stood. “I’ll get it ready. You two go ahead and enjoy the outdoors while we still have nice weather.”
Kate left quickly. Corvan rose slowly to his feet, and his mother gave him a hug.
“Don’t worry, my only one,” she said, pulling away and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Things will work out. We’ll miss your father, but we’re fortunate that he found work so quickly.” With a gentle push, she directed him toward the back door. “Supper will be done in about an hour. I’ll ring the bell when it’s ready.”
Kate sat on the porch steps looking up at the Castle Rock. Corvan jumped past her. “Wait here a minute. I’ll grab a pipe.” He headed around the house to the steep ramp that ran down to their cellar. It would take a pretty strong pipe to move the heavy rock, but there was bound to be something on the rack in his dad’s shop. At times, his dad would back his truck down the ramp and unload heavier pieces of metal.
Descending the stone ramp, he pushed one of the cellar doors open. A shaft of light pierced the dusty air and fell on the pipe racks against the far wall. He took a step inside, then remembered his dad saying he was not to go into the workshop until after his birthday. But if he went straight ahead to the far wall and grabbed a pipe without looking around, surely his dad wouldn’t mind. He wouldn’t even turn on the light. Besides, they wouldn’t be celebrating his birthday for a long time with his dad gone.
Walking between the slender columns and arches that supported the cellar ceiling, he was reminded again of a small cathedral he had seen in a travel magazine. When his grandfather had built their home, he had cut the stone blocks for the walls of the house from below it. He even cut the workbench from the bedrock, complete with storage spaces and tool racks. Corvan went straight ahead and lifted a long, heavy pipe from the rack. Gripping it with both hands, he intentionally turned away from the workbench to avoid seeing his father’s work.
Instead, he saw a door.
Ever since he could remember, the north wall of the cellar had been completely covered with a set of high wooden shelves. Now, the center section had been pulled aside to reveal a metal door. It was at least four feet wide and reached almost to the ceiling. Was this something new or had it always been behind the shelves? Three sturdy metal bolts locked it from this side. What could his father be locking in … or out?
As he stepped forward to check it out, the end of his pipe banged on the door. He jumped back. From the sound of it, the door hid a large room. He could hear it echo a long way inside.
“Did you find one?” Kate’s voice floated down from above.
Corvan gave the door one last glance and climbed up the ramp. Dropping the pipe into the grass, he ran back and eased the cellar door closed. “Don’t let my mother know I was in there.”
“Why not?”
“My dad said I was supposed to stay out of there until after my birthday.”
She frowned. “Then you shouldn’t have gone in.”
“I forgot.”
Kate shook her head. “You’re very good at making up excuses.”
Corvan grunted and picked up the pipe. She was right, but why did the truth hit so hard the last few days?
By the time they reached the top of the hill, the evening shadows from the rocks were halfway across. The last wedge of sunlight was highlighting the dark hole next to the central boulder. It would probably be a good idea to block it up, but he was anxious to see what was under the boulder. Slipping the pipe under it, he used a small rock to create a fulcrum and then leaned on the end of pipe.
The rock began to tip back. Kate stepped in beside him to add her weight. The rock slowly lifted, then suddenly rolled back and dumped them onto the ground. Kate scrambled to where the rock had been sitting and swept away the dirt.
“If this is a door, then this must be the keyhole.”
Corvan crawled up beside her and stared in amazement. The shallow hole had two circles around it just like the keyhole in his grandfather’s oak chest.
Kate picked up a rock and tapped on the symbols. A dull knock sounded from inside. “It’s hollow down there.”
Kate knocked again, and Corvan clearly heard the rustling of scales on rock in the silence that followed.
A shadow flitted across the hole below them.