Children of the Stones by Jeremy Burnham

Author:Jeremy Burnham [Jeremy Burnham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 1977-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

MARGARET poured the coffee into the earthenware mug that she had begun to think of as “Adam’s” and took it across to where he was leaning over the display containing the model of the modern village.

“Fifty-three stones remaining . . .fifty-three leylines plotted for the Circle . . .” He burned his fingers on the hot mug and placed it quickly on the glass of the case. “Invisible power cables . . .”

She spooned brown sugar into her own coffee. “Don’t tell me you are coming to believe in it all . . .? I thought you scientists needed proof?”

Adam made a noncommittal noise. “There are more things in heaven and earth than are philosophized about in my dreams . . .”

She looked at the back of his head as he sipped at his drink, the way the black hair curled over his collar. He needed a hair-cut. She smiled.

“Fifty-three. Is it a significant number?”

“Five and three were both supposed to be sacred numbers.” Margaret’s voice trailed away. Adam looked up, expectantly.

“Something?”

Margaret shrugged; it was a crazy coincidence. She hesitated but Adam was waiting. “Before you and Matthew came, the village had fifty-three inhabitants . . .”

The doorway darkened and Lyle leaned against the wall outside, beaming with pleasure. “You’ll never believe it, my dear,” he said, “but I finally remembered your Parker’s ‘Milbury.’ ”

Margaret took the slim green volume gratefully, “We’ve been talking of you . . . Adam’s been trying to get hold of you.”

The doctor turned the beam on Adam. “Nothing professional, I hope?”

Margaret moved to the coffee, started to polish a new mug for the doctor.

Adam realized that by questioning Lyle about his whereabouts last night, he would sound like a detective, at best. At worst, foolish. But what was the alternative? To introduce the subject of Matthew’s clairvoyant experiences, it would be necessary first to establish Lyle’s actual movements.

The moment was embarrassing and one not to be relished. Head-first was the only way . . .

“Doctor . . . what happened to you last night?”

Lyle’s good-natured grin faded for a moment. He seemed genuinely puzzled. “You know what happened to me . . .”

Impasse. Adam hung on. “So you saw your old patient . . . thirty-odd miles away?”

Lyle frowned. “Yes.”

“No problems on the way?” This was ridiculous . . . Adam could feel his color rising under Lyle’s amused regard. “Your car didn’t break down?”

“Any reason why it should?”

Adam hesitated. “Forgive me, it’s just that . . . Matthew had this absurd idea. He thought he could feel what was happening to you, you see . . .”

Lyle stopped smiling. This was professional, then . . . “Feel?”

Adam produced the doctor’s gloves. “Through these. You left them behind.”

Although delighted to see his gloves again, Lyle still seemed nonplussed.

Margaret handed him a mug of coffee. “Psychometry,” she said.

The doctor was at home immediately, this was something that he could understand. And with interest, too. “So Matt’s a budding psychometrist, is he?”

Adam could finish now, “He was convinced you were stopped at the edge of the Circle by something barring your way.

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