Mythology Abroad by Jody Lynn Nye

Author:Jody Lynn Nye [Nye, Jody Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2015-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Holl left the farm by the road and trotted downhill until he found a break in the fence that would let him in under the bottom of the garden. Stones and chunks of peat lay tumbled in a heap against a sheer face at the top of the field. Evidently, one of the hidden air bubbles in the uneven gneiss had given way in the same explosion that had exposed the Leodhas Cairns. It had crumbled away the edge of the bluff on which Mrs. Mackenzie’s garden rested, leaving a dangerous patch that could cause any unwary walker to tumble over. Easy to see why she thought Keith had simply fallen.

No footsteps, no signs were here at all to suggest that anyone had been here in the past week, let alone the last hour, but that also could be a trick of camouflage played by the bodach. Holl started poking through the tumbled rocks, hoping to find the way into the earth. The shifting mass was too heavy for him to deal with on his own. He didn’t feel any natural openings in the stone wall behind it.

He stood up, unsatisfied. For all appearances, the bodach must have opened up the ground and gone straight through it with Keith Doyle in tow. That smacked of true experience, familiarity with the terrain, and great power. Holl’s heart sank. He didn’t have enough of what Keith called “oomph” to open the way for himself, even if he knew where to start. Once he had rested and calmed down, he might be able to trace where Keith had gone by listening for him, and try to figure out what to do from there. Holl felt very small and alone. The situation was too much for him to handle by himself; that he knew.

Resigned, he left the field and made his way down to the telephone booth at the bottom of the hill. He would have to call home. It griped at his very sense of independence, but there he was. There was no good reason to put off the inevitable, humbling as it would be. He had plenty of change in his pocket. He calculated it was no more than mid-evening at home. He didn’t want to alarm the other Folk unduly, even if it was an emergency. The only person who could be hurt by a delay was Keith Doyle. It wouldn’t serve the Big Person at all for Holl to be proud and stiff-necked. He owed Keith that, at least.

His heart was beating like a bronze gong in his chest as he dialed the international number, and waited for the distant phone to ring. It didn’t bode well for his hope of future responsibilities to have to cry for help, but he knew he was too much a stranger in the outside world.

One of the children answered the ringing. Holl cleared his throat.

“Good evening, Borget. It’s Holl.” He spoke in the Folks’ own language in case there was anyone near to overhear him.

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