The whispers, p.17
The Whispers, page 17
“Without looking at a clock, whit time dee ye think it is?” he asked in reply.
“It’s got to be close to dinner time by now.”
“Wrong. It’s not even three o’clock yet,” he told her. “I checked every clock in the castle. They aw agree. But it feels like they’re aw wrong. And I canna rely on the television, since something’s wrong with the reception.”
“Whit about yer phone?”
“Same time as the clocks. But if it’s some sort of local interference, it makes sense that the phones wad also be susceptible. The same goes for the computers. The television should be the one reliable reference, but it isnae.”
“Show me.”
Moving softly, so as not to awaken Gealaí, they went to the television and examined the onscreen guide. The display was shifting erratically. As Caisleán attempted to dial in specific channels, resolution failed to occur. He turned the set back off and returned the remote control to its place.
“I guarantee there won’t be anyone to whom we can report a problem like this on the Saturday afore Samhain,” he sorrowfully surmised before turning his attention to their sleeping daughter and asking, “Hou is she?”
“Her fever’s gone down some since this morning, but she’s still pretty sick,” she replied. But sensing that his question had been prompted by an underlying agenda, she asked, “Why?”
“I’m wondering if maybe we let ourselves get tricked into staying here over Samhain,” he answered. “But it wad be most unwise for us to try to take her anywhere in her condition. I think it’s too late to run. We’re gonna hae to tough it out.”
He had no more than finished speaking when there was suddenly the sound of a crash from a nearby room—specifically, the library. They gazed at each other uncertainly for a second before dashing in the direction from which the sound had come. Eagna followed closely behind while Caisleán led the charge. He came very close to tripping over the cat in the process. Cosaint had responded much quicker than his human counterparts. From her vantage point at the rear of the procession, Eagna was amazed at the way the cat had so quickly extricated itself from Gealaí’s embrace without waking her.
Upon entering the library, it was immediately apparent that the noise had come from the display that held the barometer. It had somehow fallen from its wall mount and then shattered when it hit the floor. They were not able to determine how the support had failed, although this didn’t surprise either of the inspectors.
“I guess someone didna appreciate it warning us about the weather,” Eagna concluded as she disappointedly regarded the damaged instrument.
“Looks like,” Caisleán guardedly agreed.
“But whit are we to dee about the problem we were discussing?”
“We hae plenty of movies on disc,” he easily answered. “And I dinna think either of the kids will take exception to us insisting on picking out the movies for the rest of the weekend, not after Gealaí’s nightmare.”
“I just hope it wis really nothing more than a bad dream.”
Perhaps it was the abrupt absence of Cosaint, but Gealaí was stirring by the time they returned to the great hall. And Chéad, having finished his phone call, came back downstairs shortly thereafter. Caisleán and Eagna took the opportunity to announce that they’d pick the movie selections for the rest of the weekend. This declaration received a mixed reception until Caisleán named the first movie in the lineup. He knew their preferences well enough to choose something suitable for the occasion and hopefully safe as well. By the time the movie was over, Eagna had dinner ready.
After dinner they watched another movie. This kept the children from discovering the lack of access to local programming. Once it was finished, Gealaí said she wanted to move back to her own bed. She was no longer comfortable with sleeping on the sectional. She knew it was possible that Cosaint would stop sleeping with her, but it was an unavoidable sacrifice.
Caisleán moved Gealaí and her bedclothes back upstairs. Eagna and Chéad took care of clearing away the dinner dishes. She’d just started the dishwasher when her husband informed her that Gealaí had been tucked in and was requesting a bedtime story from her. Noticing that Cosaint had stayed on the sectional, she scooped him up on her way to her daughter’s bedroom. It seemed that the two of them had gradually gotten used to her occasionally carrying him around.
He remained in Gealaí’s room, curled up between the two, as Eagna told her a bedtime story. In fact, he stayed on Gealaí’s bed until she finally drifted off to sleep. And then, without waking her, he left her bed and used the hidden hallway that ran behind the lavy to reach Chéad’s room. He was warmly welcomed as he arrived.
Somewhere after midnight Gealaí was rudely roused to wakefulness by a sound like a thunderclap. It didn’t actually knock her out of her bed; her reflexes did that. The raucous report had come from somewhere incredibly close at hand. Although she wasn’t hurt by the fall, she was left in a state of complete confusion. Something had happened to the various sources of dim illumination that were strategically scattered all around her room. None of the nightlights were working, and the display on her digital clock was dark. She was dreadfully disoriented by the absolute blackness in which she was unexplainably enveloped. It reminded her of her dream.
She was, however, aware of the direction to her bed. By following the trail of bedclothes, she knew she’d eventually reach her nightstand. It held the nearest light source that she could hope to activate, but she was soon disappointed to discover that its lamp also wasn’t working. While engaged in this endeavor, she chanced to come in contact with her cell phone. But before she could actually appropriate it, she was knocked from her feet by the reverberations of another impossibly close atmospheric detonation. It didn’t even sound as if it had come from overhead. It seemed to originate just on the other side of the wall. And it shook the bedroom in a way that seemed altogether dismissive of the stone blocks of which it was actually composed.
With her second attempt, she managed to grab her cell phone. And it obediently lit up as she activated it, but its display indicated there was no service. Nonetheless, she now had a makeshift flashlight. Using it, she stumbled to the doorway. She nearly ran right into Chéad, who’d been on his way to her room. He very protectively escorted her out onto the lofted landing, which ran in front of their bedrooms and the lavy that lay between them, but this offered no real respite from the tempest that was raging all around their supposedly stalwart castle. And as they staggered before the onslaught, it seemed as if it was actually increasing.
Cosaint had been cowering in the corner of the landing that was next to Chéad’s room. He joined them as they headed toward the stairway, but he looked more timid than either of the siblings had ever seen him before. And for all his good intentions, Chéad had no idea where they should go.
He wanted to make certain his parents realized what was happening, even if it seemed impossible for anyone to do otherwise. But it seemed to him that it would be exceedingly unwise to lead anyone upstairs. Stymied by uncertainty, he was still standing there with Gealaí when Caisleán and Eagna came rushing down the stairway. The family spent several stunned seconds huddled immobile on the landing as another series of deafening reverberations rattled their doughty dwelling. Then Caisleán suggested a course of action.
“We need to reach a room without windows,” he rasped. “The lavy on the first floor wad seem to be the safest.”
Since they were already huddled on its landing, it seemed a foregone conclusion that the second floor was no place to be. From their position it was possible to see across the upper reaches of the great hall. The entire enclosure was acting like an echo chamber. Every peal of the thunderous reverberations bounced endlessly around its redirecting surfaces. There’d obviously be no solace within its embattled environs, even though the first floor was the recommended place to seek shelter from a powerful storm.
Caisleán also knew better than to mention the basement, in spite of it being the lowest location in the keep. And this aversion was reinforced as he started to lead the troop downstairs. As they reached the landing that lay between the first and second floors, they found themselves confronted by other worrisome aspects of their compromised situation. The flashes of light, which were erupting through the windows, weren’t just white. Colors were inexplicably present within some of the blinding bursts. And another inconsistency quickly came into view.
There was far too much light on the lower level, and it was obviously coming up from the basement. But it wasn’t at all like the kind of light that someone might’ve accidentally left on. It was red, crimson red. And it was accompanied by visible waves of heat. They had to struggle not to swoon as they descended the final flight of stairs and stumbled down the hallway that led to the lavy and the library beyond.
Since their cell phones were the only sources of illumination within the lavy, there was very little organization to their entry. They were, however, able to fit within its confines. Although it was really designed for single occupancy, its precincts were spacious. While trying to dismiss the concentration-shattering cacophony that was raging all around them, their family was finally able to take stock of their beleaguered circumstances.
“I dinna hae any bars on ma cell phone,” Eagna reluctantly admitted. “Dis anyone else hae service?”
“I canna even get ma apps to wirk,” Gealaí replied in a worried tone. “I wis trying to see the radar. Why are the lights out?”
“The storm must hae knocked down wires,” Eagna theorized. “I paid our leccy bill.”
“Maybe somebody should try to get to the telly and see if there’s any word about this storm,” Chéad suggested.
In the irregular illumination, he didn’t see the stealthy glance his parents exchanged before Eagna answered, “With the power out, there won’t be anything on the telly.”
She deliberately didn’t mention that reception had been dicey all day, although she and Caisleán both now saw how the storm’s arrival put that abnormality into perspective.
“Sorry,” Chéad sheepishly said. “I didna think about that.”
One of the slides from the master suite ran behind the lavy’s wall and emptied into one side of an enclosure that surrounded the window on that side of the library. The presence of the slide had prevented Caisleán from connecting the hidden hallway on that side of the great hall to the library. As a result he had opted to extend the garden tub’s enclosure all the way to the outside wall. It terminated in a triangular shape with its point on top. The supports for the slide defined the triangle’s boundary on the side that was closest to the library. And since the outside wall was part of the tub’s enclosure, he had chosen not to place a window there. But the solid rock of which that wall was composed suddenly seemed altogether insufficient for the purpose of holding back the inclement elements. The unbelievably violent airbursts were increasing in both potency and proximity.
“That disna sound like any thunder I’ve ever heard afore,” Caisleán decided to admit aloud. “And last I knew, lightning didna come in different colors. Whit’s really happening?”
“I think we’re perhaps reliving whitever it wis that actually turned the dykes of the auld fort to glass,” Eagna suggested. “Maybe it’s hou Samhain really started. It might be the anniversary of the original event.”
“Are we gonna be trapped in here aw night?” Chéad anxiously asked, wincing as another detonation erupted just on the other side of the wall.
“I hae to go,” Gealaí suddenly interjected, cutting off any attempt to answer her brother’s question.
“Whit?” Eagna asked.
“I hae to go,” the lass repeated more insistently. This time, however, she frantically indicated the nearby cludgie.
“Scared it right out of you, did it?” Chéad teasingly asked.
Ignoring her son’s ill-mannered suggestion, Eagna said, “If awbody will get into the enclosure, we can draw the shower curtain. That’ll hae to dee. I’m sorry we canna provide ye with more privacy.”
Gealaí didn’t look altogether satisfied with the solution, but she knew there weren’t any other options. She wasn’t going to insist that everybody abandon the one place of safety. And as it turned out, everyone ultimately ended up replicating her example. This resulted in numerous trips behind the shower curtain.
“I’m sure glad I decided to go with the garden tub,” Caisleán jokingly observed. “Otherwise we’d hae never fit three people at a time in here.”
“I’m just glad the plumbing problems were only a fabrication,” Eagna agreed.
The onslaught went on for hours. Chéad began to be concerned for Cosaint, who was cut off from his facilities. But Caisleán assured him that any accident would be considered acceptable. He would not even require Chéad to clean it up, although he did suggest that Cosaint be put into the tub if he looked like he was about to perform any type of elimination. This suggestion amused Gealaí, but her brother took no exception to her glee. It was obvious to everyone that her fever was spiking again. And nobody knew whether a medical evacuation was even possible at this point.
There was very little to do to pass the time. Inevitably their discourse turned to the subject of the ceaseless detonations and everyone’s attempt to describe their sound. The deafening volume and the seismic vibrations they induced in the stone structure were unquestionably evocative of thunderclaps, but the sounds themselves were not. Nothing about them suggested the peal of thunder. Their sound didn’t roll. It pulsed. The noise sizzled out as if some kind of massive fireball was involved. It was hard to imagine lightning as the source. Every detonation had a distinct endpoint. The reverberations didn’t echo on endlessly, as thunder would sometimes do. And there was no vantage point from which they felt it would be safe to observe what was really happening outside. But the danger seemed to be exclusively exterior to the castle—until it wasn’t.
Their debate about the inconsistencies of the storm’s sonic signature was suddenly interrupted. Everyone reflexively turned with apparent panic toward the niche at the end of the tub’s enclosure. By the languishing light of their cell phones, they silently searched each other’s eyes. But they had unquestionably each heard the very same thing. Something huge had just descended the slide and was now ostensibly in the library, just around the corner from their makeshift sanctuary. Without a word Caisleán rushed to the lavy door and locked it. He then stayed next to it. It looked like he was hoping to repel any potential intruder, but he wasn’t armed. And there was nothing at hand to use as a weapon.
Something unmistakably moved through the hallway that ran from the library, past the lavy, and emptied out into the great hall. It paused right in front of the locked door. His family could see how Caisleán tensed, but no attempt to enter the lavy was ever made. From the way the entity lingered before the doorway, it seemed to somehow understand that the room was both occupied and locked. For some unknown reason, it seemingly chose not to test the resilience of the interposing barrier.
Although everyone in the lavy had thought the storm’s crescendo couldn’t possibly increase, it suddenly did precisely that, and the would-be intruder seemed to react to the attack’s uptick. Everyone heard it as it fled before the amplified fury of the firestorm. Everyone tracked the footfalls of its lumbering passage as it charged down the stairway and into the cellar. Anguished cries echoed from the basement. The being apparently hadn’t been alone. It sounded as if it and its fellows were bellowing in their death throes. And then all sounds suddenly ceased. It was disquietingly quiet.
Even though it hadn’t produced any results at the time, the lavy’s light switch had been left on. Its light fixture abruptly lit up. At the same time, all the service bars reappeared on the cell phone displays. Cosaint sauntered to the door as if he expected Caisleán to open it. It was, however, several minutes before Caisleán eventually decided to trust the silence enough to test its authenticity.
Motioning for everyone to stay where they were, he vigilantly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Cosaint casually sidled around him. Caisleán paused, watching the cat and listening intently. But nothing could be heard anywhere within the castle. Upon realizing that the human had failed to follow him, Cosaint reversed course, rubbing against the wall in an effort to elicit affection. Caisleán correctly discerned that this kind of conduct precluded the cat’s awareness of any danger. Stooping down, he petted Cosaint and then carefully followed him into the kitchen.
Working his way back to the lavy, he completed his circuit of the main floor. Having received his reassurance, Eagna led the siblings forth. While she was doing this, he went down to the basement. She ushered the kids into the great hall and sat with them on the sectional. Although she was uncertain of what would happen, she turned on the television. The picture was perfect. There wasn’t even a suggestion of anything being wrong with the reception. However, despite scanning all the channels, she could find nothing except regular programming. None of the stations were displaying any severe weather warnings.
She had just completed this procedure when Caisleán came back up from the cellar and said, “Every single one of the wine bottles down there has burst. I can only assume it was caused by extreme heat, although the temperature now feels normal. I’m afraid it’s going to take quite a while for me to clean up the mess. I think I need to peek outside and see if there is any other damage.”
By unspoken agreement everyone rose and followed him to the front door. Once more he motioned for everybody to stay back while he looked outside. They apprehensively watched as he stepped out, looking first up and then all around. He then left their field of view in order to complete his inspection. Eagna was on the verge of going out after him when he finally reappeared. Despite the fact that it was still the wee hours of the morning, the lights of the antechamber were enough to reveal the mortification that was written on his face.
“There isnae a cloud in the sky in any direction,” he nervously rasped.
