Sibert indicated the calm, silvery sea with the last portion of his bread and ham. ‘The tide.’
Romain looked out to where he was pointing. The new shoreline was already deep in shingle and the waves washing to and fro made a soft, hypnotic sound. There were at present some ten or twenty paces of exposed foreshore, littered with slabs of stone, pieces of tile, fragments of planking, beams and bolts of wood. It was not that long since the sea had swallowed its latest meal and the remnants were still being spat out. Beyond the foreshore a vague, circular shape was slowly appearing and suddenly Romain understood.
‘You mean — you’re saying it’s there?’ he asked in a whisper. ‘Under the sea?’
‘Under the sea now, yes,’ Sibert agreed, calmly helping himself to more bread and a chunk of cheese. ‘When the tide has gone out, it ought to be exposed. At least,’ he added cheerfully, ‘it might.’ He chewed reflectively for a while. ‘Otherwise, it’ll all depend on how long Lassair can hold her breath.’
They waited. The sun reached its zenith and began the long, slow descent into the west. Slowly, steadily, the sea fell back and the outline of the timber circle became clearer. At last Romain could contain himself no longer; he felt as if his blood was fizzing and frothing in his veins and he was light-headed and slightly nauseous.
He stood up, his head spinning. ‘We’re going down there,’ he said decisively, fighting the vertigo. ‘Come on.’
Giving his companions no time to protest, he led them away. The cliff was less than a man’s height here, the ground soft and crumbly. There was a place nearby where a stream must once have cut its way down through the newly exposed soil, and they paused to inspect its now bone-dry course. It would be easier to go that way than trying to drop straight down the cliff. Low it might be, but all the same an awkward fall could have broken an ankle. Romain went first, turning to hold out a hand to the girl, but with a faint shake of her head she declined his help and scrambled down on her own, jumping the last few feet and landing neatly like a cat. Sibert followed, sliding on his backside and setting off a small avalanche of earth and pebbles.
The cliff, Romain reflected anxiously, was indeed deeply unstable. .
They struck out across the spoil from the cliff and presently it gave way to shingle. Romain, his eyes fixed on the strange circle of ancient timbers straight ahead of him, worn by time to stark fragments, hardly noticed when he reached the first of the little pools left behind by the retreating tide. Soon his boots were soaked and he felt the sharp sting as salt water found the raw skin under his burst blister.
Now he was intent on the peculiar upturned tree stump that, with a vague sense of menace, squatted in the middle of the timber circle. Its roots were spread wide, held up to the summer sky like arms reaching out in supplication. A sudden huge shiver ran through him, all the way from his head to his toes. It had nothing to do with the chill of the water now surging around his ankles; it was fear, pure and simple. We should not be here, he thought. It is a forbidden place and there is danger lurking.
It seemed to him as he splashed through the shallow waves that all at once the bright sun faded. Looking up in alarm, expecting to see a black storm cloud coming up against the wind, he was amazed to see that the sky was still clear, undisturbed blue.
But he was in shadow; he knew it.
Another shiver ran through him. Get away, a voice seemed to whisper inside his head. Go, while you still can.
He stopped dead.
Sibert came up behind him, panting. ‘What is it?’ he demanded. ‘We should hurry — we’ve left it too late and I think the tide’s turning.’
Romain looked up. Was Sibert right? He did not know. But the sea seemed to be pushing hard against his legs. Then his mission and its vital importance broke through the enchantment and he said roughly, ‘Come, then.’
He waded inside the timber circle.
Sibert was right beside him. The girl, hampered by having to hold up her long skirts, was still several paces behind.
Romain made himself wait in silence. Sibert stood quite still, looking around him. He was sensing the place, Romain thought. He would not necessarily know straight away where to tell the girl to start looking. He would probably have to poke around and find the most likely area within the circle. And what of her? Romain shot a surreptitious glance at the girl, whose face was white and set. How close did she have to be to an object before she could pick up its presence?
So many questions, he thought in frustration. And all he could do was wait for the other two to act. Impotent, he clenched his hands into fists.
Sibert was walking around the circle, stopping by each ruined timber post to push his hands down under the rapidly deepening water. Romain watched him, aching to order him to hurry up. Then Sibert went to the upturned stump. Now he knelt down in the water, leaning forward and supporting himself on one hand while with the other he explored the gnarled and sodden surface of the tree that had died in another age of the world.
His frown of concentration was suddenly replaced by a different expression.
‘What is it?’ Romain cried, hurrying to crouch beside him, sending up a wash that drenched Sibert to the waist. With a curse, Sibert straightened up, scowling at Romain.
‘You’ve soaked me!’ he complained.
‘What did you find?’ Romain shouted. ‘Have you got it?’
But Sibert shook his head. ‘No. I had something, though, or I thought I had. There was — I don’t know how to describe it. I was feeling down the tree trunk and I found a line that felt as if it was too straight to be natural. I was trying to see if it could be the outline of a recess of some sort when you came over and now’ — he was once more feeling about beneath the water — ‘now I’ve lost it.’ He sent Romain an accusatory glare.
Romain wasted no time on apology or recrimination. Spinning round, he called to the girl. She was standing outside the timber circle and she had her back to him. He thought for a moment that she was moving away, but that couldn’t have been right. ‘Come here and see if you can detect anything,’ he called urgently. ‘Over here, on this side of the stump. Sibert thinks there may be a hidden opening and-’
She turned round and he saw her face.
It was deadly pale, and the grey-green eyes that had turned to silver in the light off the water were wide with fear. ‘We cannot stay here,’ she said, her voice an anguished whisper as if it were vital that nobody overheard. ‘There is death here and we are in its shadow.’
He heard her words, which so faithfully echoed what he had sensed only moments before, in a kind of numb horror.
Death. Shadow.
But the thing I have come to find is almost within my grasp!
‘We must go on looking!’ he shouted. He lunged towards her, intent on grabbing her and forcing her inside the circle. She saw what he was going to do and, turning, splashed back towards the shore, skirts trailing in the water. Romain went to go after her but then a sudden very cold wind blasted out of the east and with it the speed of the incoming tide picked up alarmingly.
Sibert was at his side, and he had a firm grip on Romain’s sleeve. ‘I don’t want to drown even if you do!’ he yelled. ‘It’s madness to stay out here — we’ll be out of our depth very soon and there’s already a vicious current pulling at our legs. Hurry!’
Still Romain pulled against him, drawn to that unearthly stump and whatever it held inside itself as if it had cast a monstrous, invisible net over him and was slowly drawing him in.
Another powerful wave hit him in the back of the legs and he would have fallen but for Sibert holding him up. Salt water splashed up into his face and went up his nose and into his open, gasping mouth. Coughing, choking on the harsh brine, at last he allowed Sibert to drag him away.