Free Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3) by Mikey Campling Page B

time, when the old man with the painted face had waved a circle of dark stone in front of my face. Then I looked Cally in the eye and said, “And that was when I saw you for the second time.”
    She gave me a sharp look, but I pressed on. “You were alone. Somewhere dark. And you looked at me.”
    Cally shook her head. “I don’t…”
    “You looked at me,” I insisted. “I’m sure you could see me. You called my name. I heard you.”
    She looked away , and for a moment, I thought she was going to stand up and head for the door.
    “You did see me,” I said. “It’s no use trying to hide it.”
    She looked at me, studying my face. “Yes, I saw you. It was a long time ago, in Exeter.” She took a sip of wine. “I’ve always tried to kid myself that it wasn’t real—just something I imagined. But now…”
    “Oh, it was real,” I said. “I wish it wasn’t, but there’s no use trying to pretend it didn’t happen. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
    She leaned forward. “And there’s something I haven’t told you, something I haven’t told anybody.”
    “What?”
    “When I saw you, I was in the Exeter passages—they’re tunnels underground. And there was a black stone down there, and when I saw you, you were on it, or rather, you were floating above it. And here’s the thing.” She paused and lowered her voice before she went on. “The black stone down there, it was exactly the same size and shape as the one at Scaderstone. Exactly the same.”
    We stared at each other in silence. And in that moment, Cally’s phone began to ring.

Chapter 12

    1919
    TREVOR STOOD AND STARED into the gloom beneath the trees surrounding Scaderstone Rock. Stupid! he thought. I can’t see a bloody thing! He’d known it would be completely dark by the time he got here, but he hadn’t accounted for the lack of street lights and the dense shadows beneath the trees. Idiot!
    But he shouldn’t let the darkness stop him. It was still early and there was nothing to be afraid of. If he chose his path carefully, if he watched where he was going, he should be all right for a few minutes. He just wanted to get a feel for the place, that was all.
    He walked forward, picking his way through the damp undergrowth. A briar snagged his trousers and pierced the material, prickling his thigh. He tutted under his breath and stepped back, but the thorns had thoroughly snagged the fabric and he couldn’t get free. “For god’s sake,” he muttered. He took hold of the briar and carefully peeled it away from his trousers, smoothing down the fabric with his fingers. It felt like a few threads had been pulled out and he cursed under his breath. He should never have come here in his best suit. Now he’d have to meet Grigson and Matthews in his only other decent pair of trousers, and they didn’t match his good jacket. He’d look stupid.
    He sighed in frustration. It was almost as if someone was trying to tell him to go home—his common sense probably. He should listen.
    But he was here now, so he might as well press on. He checked the luminous hands on his watch. He’d give it ten minutes, but no more.
    Trevor moved on, walking farther into the murky shadows beneath the straggly trees and wading through the sodden undergrowth. Something crunched underfoot with the brittle, grating sound of splintering glass. Trevor hesitated. Someone had been in here: a drunk probably, or a filthy tramp. Well that would have to stop. He’d suggest the place be fenced off immediately. Barbed wire would do for a start, but then a more permanent solution would be needed to keep people out. He made a mental note. Matthews would like the idea of a solid fence, eight feet high. People like Matthews were always keen to hold onto their possessions. And that goes for his precious daughter too , Trevor thought, bitterly.
    He pictured his beloved Iris and the memory of her smile cheered him on. She was the real reason he was here. He had to push himself. He had to