The Castle on Deadman's Island by Curtis Parkinson

Author:Curtis Parkinson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Castles, Social Issues, Detective and Mystery Stories, Medieval, Mystery & Detective, Juvenile Fiction, Mystery Stories, History, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Fiction, Historical, Royalty, Architecture, Inheritance and Succession, Adolescence, Missing Persons, General, Mystery and Detective Stories
ISBN: 9781770490772
Publisher: Tundra
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-TWO

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Neil saw that he’d emerged by the cliffs at the back of the island. To his left, the cliffs tapered down to the shore of the cove, where he and Graham and Daniel had landed earlier. Was it just last night? It seemed a lifetime ago.

He swam parallel to the shore until he reached the cove. Climbing out, he stood on the smooth slab of granite, ignoring the chilly, predawn breeze, and relished being alive. I’ll always remember this moment, he thought, feeling as if he’d emerged from the water a brand-new person – like the snakes in the attic that had sloughed off their old skin.

He would have liked to rest, but there wasn’t time – he had to free Graham and find out what had happened to Daniel. He set out in the dark, barely noticing the rocks and roots that bruised his bare feet.

When Neil stepped inside the back door of the castle, the same eerie silence as before greeted him. Again he had the impression that someone or something was there. The feeling was even stronger this time, and he had to remind himself that they had searched all through the castle the night before and found nothing. Nothing alive, that is …

Still the feeling persisted. He took a few steps and peered into the gloom of the kitchen. Suddenly there was a noise, like that of a chair scraping across the floor. His skin prickled, but he stood his ground. “Daniel?”

Again the scraping sound. It was followed by a muffled voice. “Oom haar.”

“Is that you, Daniel?” Now he could see a dark shape, short and bulky, making jerky movements. As he edged closer, the shape became a figure on a chair. Then the figure became Daniel himself, bound to the chair and gagged.

“Daniel! It is you.”

“Tak oof ta gaaa,” Daniel said.

“Hang on, I’ll find a knife and cut you loose,” Neil said.

Daniel waggled his head vigorously. “Oonta ta gaaa firr.”

“Untie the gag first? Oh, sure.” Neil felt for the knot behind Daniel’s head. He worked at it until it gave way and the gag, a dishcloth, fell off.

“Man, that thing hurt!” Daniel said. “Now the ropes.”

Yanking open drawers until he found a sharp knife, Neil cut the ropes. Daniel stretched. “What a relief,” he said, rubbing his wrists. “I was worried sick about you guys down there. How did you get out, anyway?” He took in Neil’s wet underpants and T-shirt. “You swam?”

“It was the only way out,” Neil said. “But Graham’s still there.”

Daniel leaped up, staggered, and almost fell, his joints stiff from being bound to the chair. “Poor Graham must be going batty. We gotta get him out of there.” Walking stiff-legged, like Frankenstein, he hurried, as best he could, out of the kitchen, muttering, “Down there all alone, dark and all, thinking he’ll die there and cursing me.”

Neil hurried after him. “But what happened to you, Daniel? Who tied you up? And where are they now?” He looked around apprehensively.

“Tell you later” was all Daniel would say, “after we get Graham out.

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