Free The Skin Map by Stephen R. Lawhead Page B

we shall, sir! Never fear,” replied Sir Henry. “And once we have found her, the young lady will be returned to her place of origin—of that you may be sure.”
    This made Kit feel better. “Then shouldn’t we start looking right away?”
    “Indeed, sir. I stand ready to offer my fullest assistance.”
    “As always,” said Cosimo, “your generosity runs far ahead of our request. We are most grateful.”
    The nobleman waved aside the compliment. “Tosh, sir! Think nothing of it.”
    “I was hoping you might have some idea about where we should start our search,” Cosimo continued.
    “Of course. Tell me, exactly where did the young woman go missing?”
    “On Stane Way,” answered Cosimo.
    Sir Henry pursed his lips for a moment, then took a sip of port. After a moment’s reflection, he sighed and said, “Yes, well, it would have to be there, I suppose.”
    “Is that bad?” asked Kit.
    “Let us say that it will multiply the difficulty of our task inestimably.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Stane Way is a particularly old and active intersection,” began Cosimo.
    “More circus than intersection!” offered Sir Henry. “There are at least five major crossings along that line—if not more. Your friend has presumably parted company with you at one of them. But consider the Stane ley as a corridor with doors opening to other rooms, do you see? Each of those other rooms has doors, and there is no telling where the doors from those other rooms might lead. In any case, I warn you,” he said sternly, his beard quivering at its point, “it will be dangerous. There are forces that wish us ill—”
    “Like those men?” wondered Kit.
    “We met Burley Men outside Sefton,” explained Cosimo.
    “Ah!” confirmed Sir Henry. “So the enemy are nosing around again.”
    “They know about my piece of the map.”
    “Do they now!” exclaimed Sir Henry. “This changes everything.”
    The nobleman grew reflective. Kit and Cosimo exchanged an uneasy glance. Sir Henry nodded to himself, then said, “I feel I must warn you both, Burley and his brutes are not the only danger we will face. There are others. Also,” he cautioned, “you must accept that it may not be a swift search. Such an undertaking will require a great deal of patience.”
    Kit considered this. “Is there no way to speed up the search? Thing is, Wilhelmina’s not a very strong person. She is barely able to cope with normal life—something like this could kill her. I feel terrible about getting her involved, and if anything happens to her, it’ll be my fault.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she’s going to survive on her own.”
    “Be that as it may, we dare not rush headlong into a rescue,” replied Sir Henry. “ Alea iacta est .”
    “Sir?” wondered Kit.
    “The die has been cast.”
    “No kidding,” said Kit.

PART TWO

The Macau Tattau

CHAPTER 7

In Which Wilhelmina Lands on Her Feet
    S tinging rain and a savage blast of wind left Wilhelmina standing in a muddy puddle gasping for breath. Wet to the skin, she smeared the water from her eyes with the back of her hand and looked around—instantly closing her eyes again: an instinctive reaction, the rational mind’s desperate attempt to maintain coherence in the face of a displacement so severe as to shatter reality to smithereens.
    London had vanished.
    In place of the lively, thrusting metropolitan conurbation was an empty rural wilderness of damp brown fields under low autumnal skies. In that briefest of glimpses, she had seen enough to know that whatever had happened to her threatened not only her perception of herself in the world, but sanity itself. In the grip of such a devastating shock, she did what anyone would do: she opened her mouth and screamed.
    She put her head back and wailed, opening her soul to the sky, broadcasting her terror to the four winds. She screamed and kept on screaming until black spots danced before her eyes, and then she screamed again—loud,