The Bone Wars by Erin S. Evan

Author:Erin S. Evan
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Inkshares
Published: 2022-08-08T20:21:48+00:00

The Worst Idea Ever

Oliphant

It was very late when we reached the outskirts of Southampton. The road we were traveling on was dark and murky, wet with rain and mud. An owl swooped gracefully through the high beams of our SUV without bothering to give us a passing glance.

I pulled up to our destination: the Pilgrim Inn. It was a large Tudor-style pub adorned with a brown thatched roof as rumpled as a hedgehog. Soft firelight flickered through the cut-glass windows. As I turned off the ignition, I caught a glimpse of a large group of late-night revelers enjoying a pint at tables in the back.

“Here?” I remarked. “Surely, Sarah, you could have chosen a venue that doesn’t have sixteenth-century plumbing.”

“I tried,” Sarah replied. “Apparently three cruise ships are leaving from Southampton harbor tomorrow, so everything is booked up. This was the only place available.”

“This is so cool,” Molly chirped from the backseat. She unbuckled her seat belt and practically tore down her door as she got out. “I’ve always wanted to see a real English pub. Maybe order a pint.”

“Well, now you’ve seen a real one,” Farnsworth said as he tossed her backpack toward her. “But you’re still too young. The drinking age here is eighteen.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Farnsworth, I won’t. I’ll also be sure to not run with scissors, either. Where do we check in? Are we staying above the bar?”

“I’ll find out,” Sarah said, charging ahead. They entered the building and walked up to a small counter. Behind it, a grizzled but friendly-looking man greeted her. Farther down the hallway, the Pilgrim Inn opened up into a large room sectioned with tables and large pillars decorated with pictures, wall sconces, and dartboards. In the far back was the main bar, a lot of noise, and happy patrons. Over the fireplace hung a flea-bitten but fearsome-looking wild boar’s head with enormous yellow tusks.

“Okay, that will have to do,” Sarah said, her voice high and wavering.

“What’s wrong, Sarah?” Farnsworth reached for her elbow, but she shook him off.

“The rooms are in another building,” she said, reaching for the keys the innkeeper held out. Then, without a backward glance, she turned around and walked toward the front door.

We walked a short distance across a grassy courtyard toward another building. It was built in a similar style to the main pub, except this one was made of red brick. We entered the reception area, a small but clean room. Opposite the entrance was a large brown desk covered in papers. Behind the desk sat an older woman with gray hair. Sarah greeted her, and showed her our keys.

She smiled and pointed toward the stairs next to her desk. “Head up, down the hallway.”

Farnsworth tipped his hat as we walked up the stairs, Molly’s backpack bounced as she took two steps at a time. Oh youth. I’ve missed you.

When we got to the second level, Sarah slowly walked down the hallway, reading numbers on the doors aloud, finally stopping at the last two rooms.

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