“So, you are telling me that a sheath from the Hall hoard is out there somewhere?” he asked Bernard.
“Aye, saw it with my own eyes on a cell phone picture,” Bernard whispered.
“That means that my new best friend here has, in fact, not declared all his loot to us after all!” the man shouted gravely into the room from where the screams had come. “Could it be that he and you, Silver, have a separate deal on the side?” the man thundered at the pleading men in his company.
Bernard cringed for the victims’ sakes, almost feeling sorry for them as he listened to Major Rian wreak hell upon them on the other side of the phone line. The major took a moment and spoke directly to Bernard once more. “Get the sheath at all costs, Somerset! Or you will be the next ornament in my billiards room.”
“I will, sir,” Bernard promised. “Tomorrow I will meet the famous Dr. Nina Gould. If she does not bring the scabbard, the great Wrichtishousis will become Edinburgh’s Taj Mahal.”
15
Meet the Callany’s
Nina drove as fast as she could while the anxious boy directed her to his home. Dr. Le Roux had explicitly advised against the boy leaving, but Nina explained the situation at home which would give rise to more problems.
“More problems than having had a deadly charge ravage him?” the doctor had gasped.
Nina ran the dialogue back in her head as she drove. Understanding the doctor’s concern entirely, she still had to defend the child’s appeal to be home before his grandfather arrived from work. Eventually, Dr. Le Roux had to allow Brian to leave, but she strongly reiterated her disagreement with the decision. Nina had taken full responsibility and signed a release form indemnifying Dr. Le Roux, although the doctor thought it was ludicrous.
“Hurry, Miss Nina,” Brian urged. “It is almost 5 p.m.” Tightly he clutched the big leather sheath against his chest, still looking lightheaded from his injury. Nina could not believe that she actually played into this, but for some reason she knew that she should do what Brian needed her to do — to trust him.
“This is totally unlike me to allow this, I will have you know, young man,” she moaned.
“I know, Miss,” he replied, sounding wise beyond his years. “But I am not dead, see? As long as I am not dead, I have no excuse.” The child’s voice sounded morose and lost, evoking a deep sense of maternal protectiveness from the normally juvenile-challenged historian. Still, should anyone ask Nina to explain her actions, she was convinced that she would have no idea how to justify them.
“Here Miss Nina,” Brian suddenly pointed to the humble three-bedroom house with the almost garden full of mongrel plants and un-weeded gravel. The only thing pretty was the wooden screen with the thick ivy cover that parted the side driveway from the front of the yard. Brian smiled for the first time, and it cheered Nina to see his sweet face beaming.
“What?” she smiled.
“Grandpa’s car is not in the drive, Miss!” he sang. “If we hurry up I can get inside and put his scabbard back before he even knows it is gone.”
“That is fantastic, but have you thought of what your poor mother and grandmother are going to think the moment they see you in a hospital gown and shoe soles melted? You know, Brian, there are more important things than that sheath.”
“No, Miss. You don’t know grandpa when he gets angry,” Brian said seriously, shaking his head and stretching his eyes.
“You would rather be dead than to be caught having taken this thing?” she gasped, flipping her finger under the edge of the scabbard with disdain. The flick of her hand shoved the sheath, and as it moved, one of the threads lit up. With no sunshine, there could be no glare. Nina looked twice, in time only to see the sheen gradually fade. Ethereal in nature, the glow had emitted a strange energy, Nina thought, giving credence to her fasciation with the artifact.
‘Am I seeing things?’ she wondered. ‘Could it be a residual from the electric charge from the lightning bolt still lingering in that strange thread?’
Brian practically leapt from the car before she stopped completely.
“Wait! Wait!” Nina cried. “I have to go in with you to explain to your family.”
“No time, Miss Nina. They cannot see me with the sheath either, remember? I have to return it quickly, before they see!” he protested.
Nina sank to her haunches and clasped her hands around Brian’s upper arms. “Now you listen to me. I do not know why you are so terrified of your own family, laddie, but I am not taking this shit anymore. Look, I am an adult from your school,” she reminded him in a low, slow tone while her brown, hellfire eyes darted between his. “Your family will take my word and accept my excuses that I helped you when you were injured after school. They will not kill you for taking a goddamn sheath,” Nina raised her voice into an impatient growl, “because they will be too happy that their little boy is alive!”
The front door creaked open as a clap of thunder started Nina and Brian, both already high-strung from a very trying afternoon. Through the door poked a head. Nina looked up at the scowling middle-aged lady and cleared her throat. The woman’s face sank into despair and her mouth opened to say something, but Nina quickly rose to her feet and engaged her.
“Mrs. Callany?” she asked briskly, before continuing. “I am Dr. Nina Gould, from the school? Please do not fret. Brian is okay.”
“Jesus Christ, Beany!” the woman exclaimed, ignoring Nina and her opening speech. “What happened to you? Are you feeling alright, Beany?” She moved as fast as she could to collect the boy, but her frail, thin frame was infirm and shaky.
“Let me help you,” Nina offered. She held the woman’s arm for support. “Brian is fine. We have been to the hospital and he was examined by a doctor.”
“What happened?” the concerned grandmother wailed, finally paying attention to the pretty stranger who brought her grandson home. “This looks like he was on fire!”
Brian unlatched from his grandmother’s hand and without a word, he shot into the house to replace the scabbard. Nina helped Mrs. Sue Callany into the house, electing to explain all of it on the way in. As she recounted the whole debacle to Brian’s grandmother, the boy’s mother joined them from the small room the ladies used as a craft room for their needlework. Pamela was a very good-looking young woman, but not too smart.
“What?” Pam exclaimed hysterically. “Lightning? Where is he?”
“No, he is fine, Pam,” Sue consoled. “I saw him run into the bathroom just now, love. He is fine. He is fine.”
“How can he be fine after being struck by lightning?” Pam ranted, looking at Nina with a bewildered frown. She stopped at the mouth of the corridor and saw that the bathroom door was shut. “Beany? Beany, are you alright, baby?”
“Aye mom!” came the boy’s cry from the other side of the door, accompanied by a ruckus of flushing and taps opening. What his mother did not know was that, through the bathroom floor, there was an access hole to the crawlspace beneath the house. She was relieved to hear his voice and it calmed her for the moment.
“Well, hurry up so we can have a look at you!” she ordered. The tall, slender Pam rushed down the corridor to speak to Nina at the table where she sat with Sue. “Sorry, but who are you again?”
Sue looked impressed. “This is Dr. Gould, Pam.”
“Nina,” Nina corrected with a smile. “I am a part-time advisor to Miss April at Gracewill for the week. History Week, they call it.”
“She was the one that took Beany to hospital, love,” Sue interjected.