Chapter Nineteen
"Bring him over here," Professor Cardell said.
Henry and Steve pulled Todd across the clearing to where Cardell was standing, and pushed him down on his knees.
The professor gripped Todd's chin and made him look up. He held the effigy of himself that Todd had taken off the tree. "You stole this from the Offering Tree." Todd blinked at the sinister little doll. "People who defile the tree are punished." Cardell glanced at the tree, uncertainty on his face. "But the rules probably don't apply to you."
The professor went to the branch where the corn effigies dangled like hung men. Someone shone a flashlight on the spot while he reattached his doll. As Todd watched, he realized his vision was hardly blurred. The effect of the drug must be wearing off quickly.
After he'd finished, Cardell returned to him. He pointed at the branch where the linked Todd and Marigold effigies had been. "John tells me you had the handfasted dolls, but they weren't in your pockets. What did you do with them?"
A light beam shone in Todd's eyes, and he averted his face.
"Just tell him, lad." Grandpa's voice came from somewhere close by.
"Don't know," Todd mumbled. He replayed what had happened after he and Grandpa had argued. He'd definitely left the shop with the dolls in his hand. He could have dropped them in the road outside Shaun's shop when he stopped to write the note, but then Grandpa would have found them. He must have left them in Edna's shed with his bags. Not that he intended to tell the stupid professor just so he could hang them back on the tree.
"Well, never mind. It's not the end of the world." Cardell beckoned someone. Marigold stepped forward, wearing her brown robes with the shiny belt at her waist. She handed another pair of linked Marigold and Todd corn dolls to the professor.
"You're a lucky young man." Cardell said to him. "Marigold is still willing to be handfasted to you."
Emotions twisted hot and cold in Todd's gut.
No way
.
When the professor went to the tree to hang the dolls, Marigold gave Todd an apologetic look, tears gleaming in her eyes. Angry, he turned away from her. She probably hadn't been given any choice, but he still felt betrayed.
From the shadows, robed figures stepped forward and gathered around Todd and Marigold. She kneeled at his side and took his hand. He tried to break her grip, but she hung on. Still weak from the drug, he gave up fighting and let her hold his hand while the group chanted about destined mates, fertility, and eternal love. Todd thought he might barf.
After the chanting finished, he was pulled to his feet. His legs felt steadier now. Once the faithful started moving again, he might be able to escape into the trees. He'd have to make sure his sense of direction was working first, otherwise, he'd simply crash around in the undergrowth until they recaptured him.
The professor must have guessed he'd try something. Before they set off again, Henry tied Todd's hands. Two other men took over holding Todd, while Steve walked in front of him and Henry behind. Todd supposed he should be flattered that Professor Cardell thought he needed four men to keep him from escaping.
They walked for about ten minutes, the group strung out along the path, beams of light bobbing through the trees in front and off to the sides. By now, Todd was steady on his feet. He stayed alert, but he didn't get a chance to make a run for it. He bit back a sigh of frustration when they entered the Silverwell Ring clearing.
Todd's two escorts led him towards the megalith with the Wild Lord's face carved on it. He caught sight of the charcoal drawing of the fox before they pushed his back against it. The fox would be level with his heart, while the Wild Lord's face was right behind his head. The thought spooked him. He struggled, but strong hands held him while a man Todd recognized as the owner of the post office unwound lengths of rope. They secured him to the standing stone around his chest and ankles. The rope looked handmade, a weave of willow and ivy. Todd was peering down, estimating its strength, when a hand pushed his head back and a length of rope pulled tight against his throat, biting into his windpipe.
Grandpa appeared at his side, his arm shooting out to pull the rope off Todd's neck. "There's no need for that."
The men tying Todd paused. Professor Cardell joined Grandpa. "He needs to keep his head still, John. If he doesn't move, then the rope around his neck won't hurt."
Grandpa sighed and turned away. Todd clenched his fists in frustration. Grandpa cared about him but was too weak to stand up to Cardell. The rope pulled against his throat again, this time not as tightly, but now he couldn't turn his head or look down.
The men backed off and the professor stepped in front of him. He lifted a set of antlers and settled them on Todd's head. The stiff, rough feel of dried animal skin scraped his ears while a musty smell filled his nose. He tried to shake them off, but all he did was jerk the rope against his windpipe, and make himself cough.
Professor Cardell backed up, examining his handiwork.
"You're crazy," Todd spluttered between coughs.
"In a few minutes, you'll discover what this is all about. Then you won't think I'm crazy, young man."
Smoke started to swirl around the dimly lit clearing, and the pungent fragrance of the drugging plant stung the back of Todd's nose.
"The fire's burning well," Ruby Turpin said to the professor, with a glance in Todd's direction. She hesitated a moment before turning away, and he thought he saw doubt in her eyes.
"Take your places," Cardell ordered, raising his voice above the hum of conversation. The robed figures formed a circle around the standing stones of Silverwell Ring. At a sign from Professor Cardell, the faithful started walking in a slow procession, their voices rising in a rhythmic chant. Todd listened for the words, but he couldn't make them out.
Smoke drifted around his head, and he closed his eyes against the sting. What were they planning to do with him? He took some comfort from the fact that Cardell had said he would have his next meal with Grandpa tomorrow. That meant they weren't going to sacrifice him to the Wild Lord.
The rise and fall of the voices flowed over Todd, the rhythm beating in his blood like an elemental force. Even without his radar working, he sensed power behind the chant.
Suddenly the chanting stopped. Todd opened his eyes, woozy from the smoke. The faithful formed a semicircle two or three deep in front of him, their faces hidden in shadow.
"You will perform the next part of the ritual, John," Professor Cardell said.
"Why me?" Grandpa walked out from the group to meet Cardell in front of Todd. "You were the one who killed the Cochran boys. You should do it."
"It's your fault the Wild Lord deserted us," the professor replied. "If you'd put the well-being of Lords Wood first instead of selling Hendra Farm to the highest bidder, we wouldn't have had a problem with the Cochrans. I only solved the problem
you
created. You're liable for our fall from grace with the Wild Lord. Not me."
Grandpa's jaw hardened, his face taut and fierce. For a second Todd thought he would defy Professor Cardell. He willed him to. But Grandpa's shoulders slumped and he heaved a resigned breath. "All right."
Cardell pulled something from inside his robes. The firelight glinted off a blade and every muscle in Todd's body locked tight. Instinctively he jerked at his bindings, but they held firm. "Let me go," he shouted.
"Shh," Grandpa said. "Just relax. It'll soon be over."
Relax! Was he out of his mind?
Grandpa took the hilt of the blade awkwardly as though he'd never held a knife before.
Professor Cardell disappeared into the shadows, but Todd hardly noticed, his gaze fixed on the lethal weapon in his grandpa's hand. "Don't do it, Grandpa," Todd pleaded.
"Shh, lad." Grandpa went down on his knees at Todd's feet. Todd tried to follow him with his gaze but the rope around his neck cut into his throat.
Todd slammed his head back against the rock, welcoming the jolt of pain through his skull. He needed to stay alert, not let the smoke dull his senses. "What are you going to do?" he whispered urgently.
In answer, Grandpa started to chant, his voice a deep monotone. Todd tensed, wondering which part of his body the knife would bite into.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Grandpa stopped chanting and rose to his feet. Todd's breath whooshed out in relief. "What were you chanting?"
Grandpa stole a glance over his shoulder, then leaned in and whispered, "I'm calling the Wild Lord to return to us. We haven't seen him since the day William killed the Cochrans."
"That's the day Dad disappeared," Todd whispered back.
Tears shone in Grandpa's eyes. "The Wild Lord was angry with us for committing murder in his name. We think he took Richard back as punishment."
"You can't believe Dad really came from the Wild Lord?"
Grandpa stared at Todd, his expression deadly serious. "Don't ever doubt it, Todd."
Before Todd could say more, Grandpa placed the blade flat across his palms, closed his eyes, and started chanting again. Todd bit back a frustrated breath and struggled within his bindings. The blade in Grandpa's hands could cut him free in a few seconds if only the old man would defy Cardell and use it.
After a few more minutes, Grandpa fell silent, his eyes closed. He tilted his face up to the velvety-black sky and closed his hands around the knife. Dark liquid welled between Grandpa's fingers and dripped to the ground.
The metallic tang of blood reached Todd's nose. "Stop, Grandpa. Stop." The older man released his grip on the blade, letting it fall at his feet. His palms shone dark and wet. For a few seconds, he just stared at them, then he pressed his hands against Todd's cheeks.
Paralyzed with shock, Todd froze. Then horror filled him, and he tried to twist his head away, but the rope around his throat held him tight. Grandpa resumed his chanting and the faithful joined in, the chant rising to a crescendo.
Grandpa removed his hands and silence hummed in Todd's ears. He closed his eyes, swallowing back the sting in his throat from the smell of blood and the sticky wetness on his face.
When he recovered, he saw his grandpa had stepped back to the others, and the semicircle of faithful had split in the middle, leaving Todd staring into the darkness on the other side of the clearing. The silence deepened. The night seemed to hold its breath. Todd tried to angle his head and lift his shoulder to wipe his cheek on the robes, but he couldn't get anywhere close without cutting off the circulation in his neck.
Something moved in the murk beneath the trees on the far side of the clearing. At first, he thought he'd imagined it. Then he noticed all the faithful had their heads turned that way.
A massive red deer stag emerged from the tree cover. It paused after entering the clearing, muscles quivering in readiness to flee. Todd stilled, hardly daring to breathe, as the stag came closer. When the robed worshipers fell to their knees, the stag threw up its head, showing the whites of its eyes. Once the faithful stopped moving, the stag relaxed the tense set of its head and came closer to Todd. Six feet away, it lowered its head, pawed the ground, and bucked the lethal points of its antlers at him.
Todd had watched stags spar over hinds and territory, seen them arch their muscular necks to charge each other, heard the clash of antlers echo through the forest. His instincts screamed at him to back off, find cover. All he could do was hold still, praying he didn't get a rack of lethal tines stabbed in his chest.
The faithful watched, their faces rapt in wonder at the sight of the stag. Was this what they were trying to do, attract a red deer stag? Did they think the deer was the Wild Lord?
The stag took another step towards Todd, then another. He came so close that Todd could smell his hot, grassy breath. The stag stretched out its neck and sniffed the blood on Todd's face. Todd closed his eyes, tried to sink back into the rock. The stag snorted, raised its head, and bellowed the deep, primeval cry of the alpha male proclaiming superiority.
Eyes tightly shut, Todd turned his head from the blast of air and sound. Half deafened by the noise, his pulse throbbed in his ears. Silence returned. After a breath to give him strength, Todd opened his eyes again.
His father stood in front of him, looking exactly as he had five years ago before he disappeared. He was even wearing the same brown corduroy trousers and worn jacket with a blue Royal Society for the Protection of Birds pin on his lapel.