“Over there!” Caitlin cried, surveying their surroundings.
Caleb looked to where she was pointing.
Just ahead, down some stone steps leading from the castle, was a small parking lot with enough space for four or five vehicles. Amongst them was a motorcycle.
They ran for the bike. It hadn’t been locked up or secured in any way.
It took several attempts before he was able to kick the motor into life, but all at once the engine roared and spewed out fumes. By then, people from inside the crumbling church had begun filing out.
“Quick,” Caitlin cried, jumping on the back behind Caleb. “They’re coming.”
But before Caleb had a chance to accelerate away, the sound of police sirens began wailing out from nearby.
He took off, swerving to avoid the people darting from the castle. Streaming out of Boldt Castle after them came the police who had arrived by helicopter. Hurtling down the dark, winding pathway toward them came several police cars, their lights flashing furiously.
“Now what?” Caitlin cried.
Caleb looked over at her. He revved the motorcycle’s engine.
“Now you hold tight,” he said.
Caitlin just had time to loop her arms around his waist before the bike sped away.
The bike bumped along the road. Caitlin was exhausted. She rested her head against Caleb’s back, comforted by the steady thumping of his heartbeat, and gazed up at the black night. But she knew she couldn’t rest. Scarlet needed her help and there was no way she could pause for even a moment while she was in danger.
“Any ideas?” Caleb cried over his shoulder, battling to get his voice heard above the wind and the police sirens that tailed them. “Directions?”
Caitlin could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm and composed but he was just as drained as she was.
“I can’t sense her,” Caitlin shouted back. “Not right now.”
Caleb said nothing, but Caitlin saw his hands tensed against the handlebars hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
The bike flew onwards, gradually increasing the distance between them and the police cars.
The road was a narrow country lane. It began to wind up a hill. Soon there was a steep drop on one side and a cliff face on the other. Feeling queasy, Caitlin ducked down behind Caleb’s back for protection. The wind danced through her hair.
Just then, she felt something vibrating in her pocket. Surely it couldn’t be her cell phone. But when Caitlin reached inside her pocket she discovered that her cell phone had, indeed, survived the ocean plunge. She hadn’t had reception before but now suddenly it had sprung to life, flashing up to her that she had a voicemail.
Caitlin dialed her voicemail and listened to Aidan’s hurried voice on the other end.
“Caitlin,” he said. “Where are you? You need to call me back now.”
The message ended. That was it. She went to hit redial – but lost service.
“Damn!” she cried.
“What is it?” Caleb called over his shoulder.
“We need to pull over,” Caitlin replied, realizing as she glanced down at her handset that the battery was on one percent.
“I can’t pull over,” Caleb replied. “The police are on our tail. We have to get far away from this place first.”
Just then, Caitlin noticed a cave cut into the cliff side.
“In there!” she cried.
Caleb sprung to attention, twisting the bike’s handlebars with expert precision so that it swerved and skidded into the cave, kicking up dirt before drawing to a halt.
As soon as they’d stopped, Caleb turned to face his wife. “Can you can sense Scarlet?”
“No,” Caitlin replied. “My phone came back. I need to call Aidan.”
Just then, the police cars that had been on their tail went screaming past the small cave where Caitlin and Caleb were hidden.
Caitlin grabbed her cell phone and punched in Aidan’s number, praying that the battery would hold out. He answered on the third ring.
“You took your time,” he said.
“I’ve been a bit busy,” Caitlin replied, thinking of the plane ride and ocean plunge. “So what was it you needed to tell me?”
Caitlin listened to the sound of Aidan’s voice on the other end of the phone as he shuffled around and rifled through books and papers. She felt her frustration grow.
“Can you please hurry up?” Caitlin barked. “I don’t have much battery.”
“Ah, yes,” he said at last.
“What?” Caitlin demanded. “Tell me!”
“Tell me the chant again. Tell me the chant that is the cure.”
Caitlin fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the notes she’d made when studying the book. But they were soggy and the ink had run. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize the page as she had read it. The words began to appear in her mind.
“I am the sea, the sky and sand,
I am the pollen on the wind.
I am the horizon, the heath, the heather on the hill.
I am ice,
I am nothing,
I am extinct.”
____Caitlin opened her eyes and the words disappeared from her mind. There was a long moment where Aidan was silent.
Caitlin wanted to scream at him to hurry up.
“Caitlin!” he said at last. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it!”
“Tell me,” Caitlin replied hurriedly, feeling her heart race.
“We’ve been such fools! It’s not a chant at all.”
Caitlin frowned.
“What do you mean? How can it not be a chant? I don’t understand.”
“I mean that the chant isn’t the cure,” Aidan replied, fumbling over his words in his excitement. “The chant is a clue to the cure!”
Caitlin could feel her heart thumping with anticipation.
“So what’s the clue then?” she asked.
“Caitlin! Think about it. It’s a riddle. Directions. It’s telling you to go somewhere.”
Caitlin felt the blood drain from her face as she ran through the words in her mind.
“I am the sea, the sky and sand,” she repeated under her breath. Then, suddenly, it came to her. “No. You don’t mean – ”
“Yes,” Aidan replied. “S. P. H. I. N. X.”___
“The vampire city,” Caitlin whispered under her breath.
Of course. Before Scarlet had disappeared into harm’s way, Caitlin had been trying to find the cure, to find a way to turn her daughter back from a vampire into a human. She thought the words on the page needed to be read to Scarlet to cure her, that what she had found was the cure. But no. What she had found were instructions that would lead her to the cure. Caitlin had let her innate anguish as a mother override the sensible, logical scholar she needed to be right now, the one who would work out that the riddle was not a cure – but a map.
“Thank you, Aidan,” she said hurriedly.
Her