A NUMBERS GAME, Chapter 8
The motorcycle had barely come to a halt when Lara hit the kickstand.
In the distance a familiar hill jutted from the surrounding countryside. Trees obscured most of its surface, its eastern flank characterized by a near-vertical escarpment gouged by an ancient landslide.
They'd driven past earlier that morning, but Lara's vague familiarity with the area seemed to stem from further back in her memory. But like outstretched fingers trying to grasp something just beyond their reach, the details of her previous visit were proving to be frustratingly elusive.
Lara wondered if she'd been here at some point in her childhood; she'd travelled to Scotland on several occasions, so it was at least possible.
And yet...
The Englishwoman was frustrated: she could normally recall even the faintest minutia with near-perfect clarity. She considered it her one true gift.
But not this time.
Lara removed her helmet and shook her ponytail loose as she waited for her companion to slide off - but the blonde's arms remained resolutely clamped around her waist.
"I can't get off until you let go," voiced the brunette.
The American didn't move. "Why are we stopping?"
"I'll tell you, once you get off."
With inexplicable reluctance, Elsie finally released her grip on the archaeologist and disembarked.
"Okay," said the blonde after removing her helmet. "Spill it. Why'd we stop? We can't be outta gas, can we?"
As Lara swung her leg clear of the seat, she noted an odd pitch to her companion's tone: not irritation, precisely, but -
"Well?"
The brunette cocked her head, noting as Elsie's left foot tapped the ground impatiently.
Why is she so anxious?
There was no reason for her friend's agitation; indeed, she'd been her happy-go-lucky self all day - at least until now.
Lara whipped out her phone and thumbed the screen.
"According to this there's a megalithic site up there," remarked the archaeologist, pointing the device in the direction of the hill. "A stone circle, no estimated date of origin, so it's probably never been excavated. I thought it might strike your fancy."
The American didn't so much as glance in the direction of the hill, instead maintaining her gaze resolutely fixed on the brunette.
"Not really, no."
Lara did a double take as she hung her helmet from the motorcycle's handlebar.
"I'm sorry?"
Elsie shifted.
"It's too far," said the blonde. "And it's fenced off, so -"
"That's Common Land," interrupted the brunette, frowning. "We won't be trespassing. And we've travelled considerably further afoot these past two days...why is this suddenly a problem?"
Elsie twisted her toe into the ground. "Nothing, it...it's just a bunch of old rocks, is all."
Lara was incredulous. "Old rocks? Elsie, I've seen your library, I counted three books on Stonehenge alone!"
"Yeah, well, you've seen one stone circle, you've seen 'em all," retorted the American. "Can we get going, please?"
The Englishwoman threw her arms out in exasperation.
"I don't understand you, yesterday I practically had to peel you off a dolmen! I was beginning to think we were going to have to sleep under there!"
Lara had become familiar with her companion's body language over the past two years - the blonde was visibly squirming.
"I...I just -"
"What's wrong?"
Elsie's gaze shifted from the motorcycle to the pastures behind the brunette, then down the gravel road from whence they'd come. Anywhere but at the archaeologist.
"Nothing, it's just -"
"Look at me."
The blonde swung her helmet lightly against her hip but kept her gaze averted. Lara arched an eyebrow.
"What's gotten into you?"
Elsie's shoulders sagged. For a fleeting moment, Lara thought she might actually get an honest answer.
Sighing, the American dropped her helmet and drew up to her companion. Idly fingering the magatama at the base of the archaeologist's throat, her voice took on a decidedly muted tone.
"We have just two days left. I'd much rather spend them with you, especially now that we can...you know..."
Lara's lips parted slightly. Though there was no hint of a lie in the blonde's words, the Englishwoman couldn't shake the feeling her companion was carefully steering her away from the truth - whatever it was.
Lara chewed her lip; chestnut and flaxen fringes intermingled.
"Tell me what's going on," rasped the brunette, the blonde's proximity threatening to impede her quest for veracity.
Elsie leaned in.
"Just go with me on this," whispered the blonde as her lips brushed the Englishwoman's.
Lara could feel her companion's hand cradle the back of her skull as their mouths formed a perfect seal. The brunette glanced at the distant hill out of the corner of her eye.
I'm trying...
~ oOo ~
The blonde's faint breathing fluttered against the crook of her neck; it was a pleasant sensation that the brunette was reluctant to interrupt.
But what choice was there?
Lara kept her voice to a whisper. "Elsie…?"
The blonde stirred, nuzzling her jaw.
"Hmmmm…?"
Shit…
"Sorry," breathed the brunette, running her fingers through her companion's flaxen mane. "Go back to sleep."
She would have to wait a little longer.
"T'swrong," murmured the blonde as she slid up on the pillow, the pleasantly light breaths now feathering Lara's left cheek.
"Nothing," replied the archaeologist. "Just...couldn't sleep, is all."
Elsie stifled a yawn and slowly stretched out under the blankets before settling back against the brunette.
"Try and get some shuteye, ya?" cooed the blonde softly into the archaeologist's ear. "Gotta build up your strength for tomor—"
"Why'd you take my ticket stubs?"
Elsie's breathing hiccupped. Not that Lara could blame her, really – the accusation had burst out of her without warning, with more forcefulness than she'd intended. But she was tiring of being kept in the dark.
"I...I don't know what you -"
"And you say I'm a terrible fibber," shot back the brunette. "Why'd you lie about Heathrow?"
The blonde stiffened.
Lara waited impatiently for a response.
"Elsie -"
"Don't," whispered the American. "Please."
Lara pushed herself up on her elbow and glared at her companion.
"A day of my life has inexplicably vanished and you want me to just…carry on as though nothing happened?"
Elsie slowly drew up to face the archaeologist, her expression sombre.
"That's what I'm asking, yeah."
The brunette gaped at her friend in disbelief.
"Are you off your trolley?"
The blonde's gaze faltered. Lara's took no satisfaction from her companion's wretched countenance – but she was determined to fill the gaping hole in her memory.
"You know what happened," stated Lara. It was not posed as a question.
After several long moments of gazing into the bedsheets, the American gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Sensing a brief advantage, Lara pressed on. "Then tell me."
"I can't," whispered the blonde, shaking her head.
The Englishwoman huffed. "Bloody Hell, Elsie! After all we've been through, we're going to start keeping secrets from each other?"
The blonde visibly flinched; Lara had to force herself not to reach out to her friend.
Elsie tugged distractedly at the corner of her pillow, unwilling to make eye contact with the archaeologist.
"Do you trust me, Lara?"
The blonde's voice was weak, tentative.
Lara's shoulders dipped. Despite everything, there could only be one answer.
"Oh, Elsie...of course I do," sighed the archaeologist. "But you've made it so difficult these last few days. You lied about the airport, you rummaged through my bag...how am I supposed to react to that?"
The small bedroom was filled with an awkward silence as the American continued to fidget with her pillow.
"So that's it, then?" asked the Englishwoman.
Elsie shook her head at the bedsheets.
"I won't lose you," she whispered. "I'd rather let the world burn."
Lara blinked, her breath momentarily catching in her throat. "Elsie...are you saying you're somehow protecting me?"
The blonde's head shot up, grey eyes wide.
"I - I didn't say that…"
"Didn't you?"
A nervous swallow. "N-no!"
"What, then?"
Elsie bit her bottom lip.
Lara huffed. "Oh, for God's sake -"
The blonde shuffled close and pressed her palm to Lara's cheek.
"I'm asking you to trust me," pleaded the American, her glistening eyes reflecting the moonlight striking the wall. "Just...let it go. Please?"
The brunette frowned. Acquiescing to her friend's request would go against every fibre of her being - her life was devoted to uncovering truths, after all. It was all the more frustrating that the answers she sought lay directly before her.
She couldn't simply walk away - it would cast a shadow over her relationship with the blonde.
But she would have to find the answers on her own.
So she gave the one response her friend would accept.
She drew in a deep breath.
"Fine."
~ oOo ~
Lara removed her helmet and set it atop the motorcycle's seat. In the distance, the ash-grey horizon betrayed the first glimmers of predawn light.
The archaeologist swore under her breath; she'd come much later than she'd intended - dawn was less than an hour away. But it couldn't be helped.
Every time she'd tried to extract herself from her friend's clutches she'd ended up waking the blonde, forcing her to repeatedly postpone her departure. It was early morning before she'd finally managed to slip out of bed without stirring her companion.
And she was already running out of time; she knew there was little chance of getting back before Elsie woke - and she'd left no note.
Lara sighed; it was a bridge that would need crossing - if not outright repair.
In the meantime…
Leaving her motorcycle at the side of the road, Lara pivoted smoothly over the dry stone wall, her boots planting down into spongy peat on the opposite side. The familiar hill loomed in the distance, the distinct shape of its near-vertical eastern façade confirming she'd returned to the scene of Elsie's inexplicable discomfiture.
Perhaps now, at least, she might find some answers.
As she set off, the Englishwoman mused about what she might find atop the hill. And more importantly, the reasons behind Elsie's apparent duplicity.
In the near darkness, the Englishwoman stumbled once or twice as her feet would periodically sink into the peat. She cursed herself for not bringing a glow stick. To say nothing of her climbing axe.
She fingered the pocketknife in her pocket, not that it provided much in the way of reassurance; without the heft of the more familiar weapon in her palm, she felt decidedly unprotected.
As she reached the base of the hill, she paused a moment to scan for any obvious trails leading into the trees - a tall order, given the lack of light.
Impossible, as it turned out. Well, then…I guess there's nothing for it...
Plunging into the woods, she began the slow trek up the slope, the ancient, gnarled trunks evidence the trees here had never been subject to coppicing.
In the poor light it was virtually impossible to avoid snags from the thick tangle of branches; by the time the ground began to level out near the top Lara was certain she'd torn her shirt in several places, if the burning scratches on her arms and shoulders were an accurate barometer.
More disturbingly, there was no way to move silently. Lara swore under her breath; if there was anyone up here, they'd easily detect her approach amid the constant rustling and cracking of branches. She may as well have been carrying a portable radio and playing Rihanna's latest hits.
The thick tangle of limbs finally began to thin out. Coming to the edge of an apparent clearing, a shadowy figure suddenly loomed before her, barely discernible against the coal dust horizon.
She froze.
Strangely, it gave no reaction to her presence. It seemed impossible she could've approached this close without being detected.
She ran her hand along her thigh, her finger tracing the outline of her pocketknife.
The figure remained resolutely immobile.
Lara edged closer, wincing at the rustle of her clothing.
Several more figures came into view, each one as still and as silent as the first.
Oh, bloody Hell...
Stones.
It was a stone circle.
Lara let out a breath, her heartbeat slowing slightly.
She approached the nearest monolith. It was a good two feet taller than her; the eight other stones forming the ancient circle varying in height and shape, some tilting precariously through millennia of neglect.
Beyond the circle no trees obscured the murky horizon - the escarpment was likely just behind, reasoned the brunette.
Disappointingly, she was alone.
Moving slowly among the stones, the archaeologist searched for any sign of human activity. There was no detritus of tourists, no remnants of campfires.
Nor, she lamented, any answers. She kicked the ground in frustration.
"Shit..."
A buzz in her pocket startled the brunette. She retrieved her phone and thumbed the screen.
"Oh, shit...shit..."
A text message from Elsie:
WTF? WHERE R U?
Her phone began vibrating.
Lara chewed her lip and turned off the device before returning it to her pocket.
There will be hell to pay...was it worth it, Croft?
A flutter of wings shot by the brunette's head, causing her to duck in reaction. Had she intruded on a nearby nest?
She straightened up and turned in the direction of a slowly bobbing branch behind her.
"Sorry," she said softly.
As her eyes adjusted, she frowned at the tiny form perched above her. She was no ornithologist, but…something was off.
The wings were slowly oscillating, brief glimmers of iridescence reflecting the faint tendrils of light from the horizon.
Lara drew in a disbelieving breath.
She took a tentative step forward to confirm what her eyes were trying to convince her brain: there, perched atop a branch not two yards from her, was a tiny humanoid a little over a hand's span in height, clad in what appeared to be moss-covered leaves and brandishing oversized dragonfly wings.
Impossible!
The archaeologist blinked. It had no effect.
These are myth, given life by superstition...aren't they?
And yet, she was fairly certain she was not hallucinating.
Moreover, she'd seen this creature's particular face before. In Lily's reading room.
Lara had given up trying to make sense of it. She'd tucked the memory away in her mental drawer of the unexplainable.
Only this time the tiny figure made no attempt to disguise itself as a statuette; it was clearly moving, breathing...and gazing down at her with an expression that mirrored the Englishwoman's own disbelief.
Lara realized it was slowly shaking its head at her.
"The Cottingley stories have nothing on you, do they," breathed the brunette in wonder.
The faerie pointed in the direction of the road.
Lara blinked.
"Um..."
The figure shot off the branch and came to hover directly before her, thrusting a tiny arm southward.
"You...want me to leave?"
The faerie's face contorted in frustration as it pointed both arms in renewed emphasis.
The brunette cocked her head. "South, yes...can't you speak?"
The creature suddenly shot out of sight. Lara spun around in an attempt to track it, to no avail.
There followed a surprisingly vigorous tug on her ponytail which caused the brunette to stumble briefly in surprise. Planting her feet, Lara shook her head violently until her ponytail swung loose.
"Bugger off!"
The faerie fluttered back into view, her hands clasped together in supplication.
"I'm not leaving without answers," declared the brunette resolutely.
The creature shook its head. Lara crossed her arms.
"Well then, we're at an impasse."
The faerie was becoming increasingly agitated. The archaeologist briefly flirted with the notion of leaving, such was the creature's growing consternation at her continued presence. But she quickly dismissed the thought - her answers lay here, somewhere.
But how to find them?
One possibility came to mind.
Turning on her heel, the brunette walked over to one of the precariously leaning stones. She placed her palm against its weathered surface and turned to face the faerie.
"It would be most unfortunate if something were to cause this to topple over," bluffed the archaeologist.
The faerie let out a sharp chirp of alarm and waved her hands frantically.
Lara dropped her arm to her side.
"Well, then..."
The tiny creature's shoulders drooped in defeat.
It fluttered closer until it hovered before the brunette, its wing beats sending ripples through Lara's fringe. Gazing at the Englishwoman with obvious reluctance, it leaned in and pressed a tiny palm against Lara's brow.
The effect was immediate: the brunette's sight dissolved into murky fog as she experienced a moment of severe disorientation, gasping as her feet seemed to float from the ground before re-establishing contact moments later. Sounds, smells and sights slowly coalesced into discernible patterns.
Only now there was light; evening, judging from the merging of pink and violet overhead.
She was moving through a thick tangle of trees.
She was climbing the same hill.
But unlike her previous trek the daylight enabled her to avoid the worst of the snags.
A soft rustling behind her. Lara tried to turn her head and look, but quickly discovered she had no control over her body.
A memory.
So...that was you, then, was it..?
"Hold up a second."
The voice had come from behind.
Elsie.
The brunette duly came to a halt and turned to see the familiar form of the American.
"What is it?"
The blonde held up a finger. "Listen."
The Englishwoman stilled. Straining to filter out the mix of faint birdsong and wind-driven rustle of branches, she could just make faint voices in the distance.
Singing.
Slow, melodious humming. Vaguely reminiscent of a women's choir, thought the brunette. But here?
She frowned at the blonde, who smiled back at her excitedly.
"Let's check it out!"
Lara could only shrug in reply.
The impossibility of influencing past events suddenly weighed on her: could Elsie's deception have been justified?
If so, then she was embarking on a dangerous road.
Tickling the dragon's tail…
They resumed their slow trek up the hill, being mindful of interposing branches so as not to give away their approach.
The voices slowly grew louder as they reached level ground, until Lara could just make out faint movement through the trees. She made for a thick patch of shrubs that would afford some concealment. Crouching down, she peered through the undergrowth.
Her jaw literally dropped at the spectacle before her.
Within the stone circle danced a group of women: nine in all, Lara counted, clad in cloaks of strangely shimmering colours that alternated from earthy browns to leafy greens to sky blue and sunset gold as they moved in slow, graceful circles amidst the ancient monoliths, their ethereal voices merging in flawless harmony to produce song which threatened to beguile the archaeologist. The brunette was so entranced that she was only dimly aware as Elsie crouched down next to her.
Neither women spoke, transfixed into silence by the mysterious ceremony being played out amidst the weathered stones. Further adding to the spectacle were dozens of tiny balls of iridescent lights seemingly dancing of their own accord in concert with the otherworldly melody.
Lara was transfixed. Just what was she witnessing?
The women's movements were impossibly graceful, almost seeming to float off the ground, though the shimmering cloaks made it impossible to be certain.
This was no village troupe, she realized. The women varied wildly in age, but all were spectacularly beautiful, and seemed to glow with an inner light.
They weren't human.
But who are they…?
A hand on her shoulder.
"Let's get out of here," whispered Elsie into her ear, her voice apprehensive. "We shouldn't be seeing this..."
Lara didn't move. Elsie's grip on her shoulder tightened.
"Lara, come on!"
Lara blinked, forcing herself to look away from the spectacle – which she only accomplished with difficulty.
"We shouldn't be here," hissed the American, grey eyes wide. "If they see us -"
The tone in Elsie's voice was such that Lara feared panicking her friend if they remained much longer.
"All right," agreed the brunette as she fished her phone out of her pocket. "Just a few more seconds..."
The archaeologist pushed the device into a gap in the greenery, but before she could start recording Elsie snatched the device from her hand.
"Are you insane?"
"Bloody Hell, Elsie -"
The blonde slowly craned her neck towards the stones.
"Oh, fuck..."
The hairs on the back of the brunette's neck prickled. The singing had stopped.
A wave of disorientation suddenly struck the Englishwoman, her surroundings quickly plunging into near darkness.
Elsie was gone.
The only sound was a rapid flutter of tiny wings, growing fainter – and her own rapid breathing.
"Wait!" called out the archaeologist. "Why'd you stop?"
Lara flinched as a ghostly voice suddenly echoed in her ear. The brunette reacted instinctively, throwing herself into a roll and coming up on one knee, pocketknife extended defensively.
But she could see no one.
She stayed in the crouched position and waited, eyes darting nervously – she hadn't imagined it.
The voice spoke again, seemingly conjured from the very air around her.
"You were given a second chance, Lara Croft. Your life is now forfeit."