Sweet Boundless (29 page)

The next scene showed Rose, and Carina’s heart leaped. She was painted nearly white, with dark hair and red skirts. The picture seemed more symbolic than real, the two of them standing beside a simple depiction of a cabin with a starlit sky above. The stars formed the shape of the wolf.

The last picture showed the ochre man raising a newborn child above his head . . . in exultation? Or offering? The wolf beside him had its head thrown back, mouth open to the sky.

Wind came through the opening above her, and Carina staggered back, her legs suddenly spongy. Her candle sputtered and went out. She cried out, then clamped a hand to her mouth. Something moved in the darkness. A bat, perhaps, startled by her cry. Its presence was not a comfort.

With the dim filtered light from the opening above, the darkness was not complete, but close enough that even when straining she could not make out the walls of the chamber or even more than a few inches from her eyes. “Alex.” Her voice came as no more than a strangled whisper, and the sound of it scared her more than the silence.

Signore!
“Signore!” She shouted it this time. “Gesù Cristo!” She fumbled in her pocket for the matches Alex had given her to carry. Her fingers shook as she struck, then struck once again before it caught. She held it unsteadily to the candlewick and breathed her relief when the light enlarged and once again warmed the chamber.

Her pants were soiled by the guano on the floor, but she sat a moment longer, letting the strength return to her legs. Why had she come? Why did she want to see once again these horrifying images? The wind moaned, and standing swiftly, she felt a wave of dizziness and panicked at the thought of fainting there.

She staggered to the entrance and looked swiftly back over her shoulder. The chamber was still. Candle held high, she made her way back into the main cave. Her candlelight shrank to a mere firefly glow in the immense opening.

Alex was not there. Now she understood his warning. Without it she would have gone in search of him. She might not have even considered the danger of wandering off, searching one tunnel after another. Neither did she want to stay alone in this echo chamber with the painted one at her back.

She found the side tunnel Alex had marked with the string earlier. With one hand she felt the string pulled tightly along the wall and entered. She held the candle in her left hand, and felt her way along the string with her right. She would not let go of the string for one minute. That way she couldn’t make a wrong turn.

It seemed that wouldn’t be a problem. After only ten paces the tunnel shrank down until she was stooping, then seemed to disappear altogether. The string, though, kept on, and she dropped to her knees before a small opening above the floor. Here the walls and floor were damp.

Surely Alex hadn’t crawled through there! But the string continued through the hole. He must have. Well, that didn’t mean she would. But what was the alternative? To turn back to the empty chamber? She shuddered, then looked at the hole again. If Alex Makepeace could fit through, she could.

But not with her candle lit. The very thought of extinguishing it made her tremble. What if she couldn’t get it lit again? She closed her eyes and stilled her breath. Maybe she should call to him. But then she remembered how disturbed the bats had been the last time something startled them. She didn’t want bats filling this small tunnel with no room even to cringe.

Resolved, she blew out the candle and crouched down to the small space. Flat on her stomach, she pulled herself inside. Immediately she felt trapped and terrified. How long would it last? It was hard to feel the twine and keep pulling herself, so she reached up after every pull to make sure it was there. As though it could go anywhere else.

Soon she was able to crawl on her knees, then once again to stoop. She stopped and relit her candle. In its light, she saw that the floor was rising. The whole tunnel climbed upward. “Alex?” It was a soft inquiry, not enough to disturb anything lurking there. Nor did it bring an answer.

Carina sighed, wondering whether to go on or turn back. But turning back meant crawling again, and she wasn’t ready to do that again so soon. She followed the string a few paces upward and came to a very steep rise. The surface was uneven, and she climbed like a goat, using any jut or indentation for a foothold, while clasping her candle and using her one free hand to pull herself up.

She reached, and something gripped her wrist. Screaming, she dropped her candle and nearly fell backward. A flood of bats washed over her, and she fended them off with one hand while the other was held fast by whatever had caught her. Again her heart rushed and beat wildly inside her.

The grip on her wrist tightened, and she realized it was Alex Makepeace who had a hold of her. With one jerk, he pulled her up and held her steady.

“You scared me to death!”

“I’m sorry, Carina.” He caught her shoulders.

She could see his face in the dim light of his candle, which he must have set on the floor to catch hold of her. If she hadn’t been so intent on the climb, she might have noticed the extra glow from above and his motion to reach for her. As it was, she was thankful not to have lost control of her bodily functions. “Don’t you know better than to grab someone in the dark!”

“I didn’t want to speak and disturb the bats. I guess it might have been better if I had.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Indeed.” Carina pressed a hand to her galloping heart.

“Did you think Tommy-knockers had your arm?”

“Tommy-knockers?”

“Ghosts of men buried alive in the mines.”

Carina shuddered. “Don’t tell me any more.”

He looked down the way she’d climbed. “How’d you get through that tunnel?”

“I’m smaller than you, Alex. And I didn’t want to be alone.”

Alex released her. “Those pictures would be enough to spook a body. I shouldn’t have left you. I hope you don’t intend to go in there again.”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen it all now. But what is this? What have you found?”

“A crystal cave.” Alex stooped and raised the candle. Its light danced all around them on the sharp-pointed facets of the small aperture. It was like being inside a geode. The rounded space glittered with soft hues on the circular ceiling scarcely a foot over their heads and eight feet around.

Carina stared at its beauty, awed. There was no sense of evil here, only wonder. She reached out and touched one crystal as long as her finger and twice as broad. Alex was silent as she walked slowly around the chamber.

“Is this the end of the tunnel?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see another way out. Be kind of hard to miss it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

He nodded. “A true wonder of nature.”

Carina returned to him. “I’m glad I followed you.”

“And I know better than to waste my breath next time.”

“I followed the string. I wasn’t wandering.”

He didn’t scold as Quillan might, just took his knife and cut the end of the twine, then nailed it into the wall with a thin spike and small-headed hammer. “There. Now we can find it again.”

“Alex . . .” She looked again around the sparkling chamber. “Do you think we should?”

“Should?”

“Find it again.”

He narrowed one eye. “Why not?”

“It seems . . . like a secret.”

Alex stroked the crystals over his head, then dropped his hand. “We’ll leave it for now. Come on.” Before starting for the opening, he reached down and picked up a thin rosy-hued crystal shaped like the spire on a church. “Here.” He gave it to her, and Carina tucked it into her pocket.

Alex helped her down the steep drop, where she retrieved her candle. The wax was broken, and he replaced it with a fresh one. “There.”

She took the holder. “I’m glad it was you holding my wrist and not some Tommy-knocker.”

He laughed. “You nearly split my ears with that scream in all that crystal.”

“You deserved it.”

“You’re a hard woman, Carina.”

Was she? Was that why Quillan didn’t come home? She didn’t speak while they climbed out, then wrapped her muffler about her mouth once outside. The cold seemed fiercer on the ride down, and by the time they reached Crystal at dusk, the snow was coming in earnest. Carina fended the flakes from her eyes as she dismounted outside her door.

Alex took the reins of both horses. “Good night, Carina.”

“Good night.” She watched him lead the animals into the storm. Then she went inside. Mae must have kept the fire stoked, for the room was warm and inviting. Carina lit the lamp and studied the crystal in its light. Had Wolf found the crystal cave? Or had he only immersed himself in the teardrop chamber?

She closed her eyes and pictured his last painting. The pale wolf had been man-sized, howling its grief and fear to the world. Had the ochre man offered his child, whose cries he couldn’t bear, to the eagle whose shadow wingtips had brushed his forehead? And who was the eagle to Wolf?

SIXTEEN

So many questions. Will I ever know the answers?

—Carina

“WHO IS IT?” CARINA turned at the tap on her door.

“Mae.”

Carina hurried over and opened the door that connected her hall to Mae’s kitchen. She felt a twinge of guilt as Mae swept into the room, breath labored as always. “What is it, Mae? Are you all right?”

“Me? I’m all right. But I could ask you the same.”

Carina studied her face, searching out her intent. “I’m fine, Mae.”

“Do you mind telling me where you were all day and why you simply disappeared? Or do I have to look any farther than Alexander Makepeace?”

Carina was horrified. “What are you saying?”

Mae raised a plump hand. “I’m not saying I understand Quillan or condone his absence. But he’s your husband, Carina, and unless you want the tongues to wag, you’d better consider well before you sneak off with Mr. Makepeace again.”

“I didn’t sneak off with him.”

Mae made it sound dirty. What they had done was above reproach. Yes, they had been alone together, but in no way compromising or . . . But how could Mae know that? How had it looked?

“I know what it is to be lonely, Carina. Why do you think I fill my house up with people who need me, or at least my cooking and cleaning?”

“I’m not lonely. I have you and Èmie.” Though now that Èmie was married things would change.

Mae shook her head. “I’m not blind, Carina. And what I’ve seen, others have seen. Don’t you think Quillan’s had enough marks against him?”

Confused, Carina pushed the hair back from her cheek. “What do you mean?”

“He’s had to fight for every ounce of respect he’s won. How will it be if he learns his wife is . . .”

“Is what?” Fire filled her veins.

“Taking up with another man.”

Carina’s breath came out in a burst. “Is that what you think?” It hurt more than she’d known to have Mae doubt her. And it was so unfair. “What about Quillan? Where is he, and with whom? Do you doubt his faithfulness? Or is it only me you blame? What have I done but wait and be willing?” She threw up her hands and stalked across the room, shaking now with unspent anger toward Mae, toward Quillan, toward herself for the pleasure she did take in Alex Makepeace’s company.

“I’m not saying it’s so. Just telling you how it looks.”

Carina spun. “How it looks? How does it look when my husband won’t spend one night with me? When he sleeps on the floor or in his wagon? When he eats at the hotel instead of my table? When he leaves for months with no word, no thought for me, no—” She burst into angry tears.

Mae’s hand was warm on the side of her head. “There, there. I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried to understand. I thought by knowing Rose, by knowing Wolf . . .”

“What are you talking about?”

Carina raised her tear-streaked face to Mae’s. “I had Rose’s diary. Father Charboneau gave it to me. I felt her love for Quillan and loved him better for it. And now the cave . . .”

“Carina, you’re not making sense.”

“Alex Makepeace and I found a cave under the Rose Legacy.”

Mae stepped back. “The Rose Legacy. Wolf’s mine?”

Carina nodded.

“You went back there? After falling in the shaft?” Mae said.

“I’ve been back dozens of times. I . . . I visit the grave.”

Mae paled. “Landsakes, Carina.”

Carina sniffed, swiping at the tears beneath her nose. “Mr. Makepeace and I went down the shaft to the cave. There’s another chamber that’s painted. It’s Wolf’s story.”

Mae sank to the bed. “Are you telling me Wolf went down into the cave and painted the walls?”

Carina nodded. “That’s what he must have been doing when Rose thought he was searching for gold hour after hour. He was painting his life. It’s all there. Some of it horrifying, some just sad. Some I don’t understand, but . . . but that’s where I was with Alex Makepeace.”

Carina realized she’d broken her own injunction for secrecy, but she had to. She couldn’t bear for Mae to think badly of her. She reached into her pocket and brought out the crystal. “There is also a crystal cave, no bigger than this room, with crystals like this growing from the walls and ceiling. It’s beautiful.”

Mae fingered the crystal Carina laid in her palm, then held it up to the light. She sighed. “I’m sorry I doubted you. It’s just you’re so young, and it’s hard to be alone.”

Carina sensed Mae’s own loneliness as she had when they first met. One year of happiness with her husband was all Mae had known. But, Carina thought bitterly, it was more than she had with Quillan. “Mr. Makepeace is my husband’s partner . . . and my friend.”

Mae nodded slowly. “Unfortunately, folks judge by appearances.”

Carina dropped her hands to her sides. “Then I am judged already. What kind of woman cannot keep her husband home?” She walked to the window. “Half a year ago Crystal would have had me hung. Beck’s woman, they called me. What do I care now what they think they see?”

Mae stood, holding the crystal out to Carina.

Carina shook her head. “Keep it.” When Mae went silently through the door, Carina stood a long while at the window, looking out into the night.