Page 96 of A Rogue in Moonlight
“Hurry, this way,”Fiona said frantically, leading the children ahead of her. “Quickly!” She glanced over her shoulder as she pushed them into the narrow crevice she had spotted in the back wall of the cave. The golden star of light from the lantern Hugh had set aside was still visible, and she could hear the men arguing.
Rushing the children along, helping them pick their way through a slim channel in the rock that led onward, she was glad to see that the narrow corridor angled upward, just as she had hoped from a quick glance behind the kegs. The rock walls were damp stone, the uneven floor of the snaking, narrow passageway so wet in places that she stepped ankle-deep in water twice and had to make sure the children did not stumble. She could hear water trickling, then rushing, somewhere up ahead, though she could not yet tell what that might mean.
“Walk carefully,” she whispered to the three young ones. “Let me go ahead now. We will all hold hands—there,” she said, when they had formed a chain.
A little further on, she felt fresh air and increasing moisture. Seeing a glaze of bluish light on the dark, glossy stone walls, she felt sure there must be an opening ahead if they just kept going. The passage seemed a bit of a maze, sloping up, then down, up again, cantered right and then left. She prayed the exit, when they found it, would be large enough, for there could be small crevices and fissures throughout the rock that might not allow even a child to pass through.
When she had knelt with the children in the iron-barred cavelet, she noticed the sound of water, felt a drift of moist air, and saw that the ground slanted upward. Caves like these could be honeycombed with cells and passages, with water trickling here and there and openings to the air naturally occurring. The water seepage might come from the loch overhead, yet there was a good chance that itmight indicate a larger opening in the earth, with a passage to freedom. It was worth exploring. If the passage proved worthless, she would bring the children back to the storage cave.
But she hoped past hope to get the children far away from here, no longer bargaining chips for Eldin. As for Dougal, Patrick, and Hugh, she prayed they would take control of the situation and stay safe. She knew they would all want the children removed from danger.
As they edged along, she heard a deep rumbling growl and felt the rock floor tremble beneath her feet. Pausing, reaching out to touch the bairns’ shoulders and stop them, she waited. The tremors grew stronger. Lucy cried out, and Jamie and Annabel looked up at her, wide-eyed and frightened.
Something had caused a rockfall—she was sure of that, but unsure what had caused it so suddenly. Dear God, she thought, had someone fired a gun after all? Her heart leapt to her throat. As much as she wanted to go back and make sure Dougal and the others were unharmed, she could not risk the children’s safety.
They could not go back now. They had to go forward. She prayed her instincts about the cave formation were correct.
After a few more twists and turns, Annabel pointed ahead. “There is light ahead, Miss MacCarran!”
“I see,” she said. “Good! Keep going, my dearies!”
They were walking sideways now, the passage that narrow as they edged along with their backs to the wall, their feet constantly wet. Looking ahead, she saw a pale-blue light filtering over the walls. The surrounding rock was darker now, mottled and glossy. She paused, running her fingers over it. Granite deposits, mingled with quartz and shale and other igneous sorts. Fascinating, she thought.
“Miss MacCarran! This way!” Jamie called. “I can feel some fresh air. I think we can all get through!”
The channel he indicated was very narrow, but they turned sideways, sliding and pushing their way, passing through step by step untilit opened wider and the going was easier. The highlights on the rock glistened and grew brighter, and now Fiona noticed other glittering elements threading and weaving through the dark stone.
Veins of gold, she realized, here and there, and there again. Catching her breath as she studied the wavering lines cutting through the stone, she said nothing, smiling to herself as she urged her charges on.
The watery trickle grew stronger, dripping down the walls, puddling on the floor. “The loch will crash down on us!” Jamie cried.
The girls whimpered, but Fiona shook her head. “He is only joking, lassies.”
Jamie thrust back his shoulders. “I will go first and protect you!”
She smiled, seeing increasing courage in the wee lad who had let Lucy best him more often than not. He was enjoying the adventure.
“I think we are past the loch in this section,” Fiona told them. “The passage through the rock continues upward, see. We are at the level of the loch or above it now. Climb with me, dears, and go carefully.”
“We are walking through a stream,” Lucy said. “My feet are wet.”
“Mine too. You will be fine,” Jamie said. “I will take care of you. And then I will come back and mine all this gold—it is gold, is it not, Miss Fiona?”
So he had seen. She nodded. “I think so. The stream rushes right through where the ore is located. The water might even carry the flavor of gold.” And that would bring gold to the laird, and bless his whisky, and bless the glen as well, she thought.
“Gold would make excellent whisky,” Lucy said. “We must tell Uncle Dougal.”
“We will.” Fiona said, sending up a little prayer that they would see him very soon indeed. Then she paused again, realizing that they were very close to an exit now.
“Look!” Lucy said, pointing. “A pool of water!”
“And a hole in the roof of the cave!” Annabel cried, as Jamie ran ahead, and Fiona reached out to slow and caution him.
Ahead on the upward slope, she saw the gleam of water, the surface of a shining pool that whirled at its center, bubbling riotously enough to propel upward to the rock ceiling above it, where a hole of rock and earth—and grass and flowers and sky, she saw now—allowed the water to surge upward.
“A well!” Fiona said. “A natural well with a fountain—the water comes up from an underground source.”
“Water does not flow upward,” Annabel said pragmatically.
