Chapter Eight
A light breeze ruffled his hair when Remus appeared on a hilltop overlooking the settlement of Owl's Hill. Taking a deep breath of the salt-laden air, he glanced out toward the sparkling blue ocean beyond the waving trees. What a beautiful place Severus had chosen for his new home. If indeed he was here and Remus hadn't merely misread the signs.
No. Remus shook his head firmly. Severus was here; he had to be. All the clues pointed this way. If he wasn't here, then there was no place else to look, and he wasn't ready to face that possibility. He would find Severus somehow. He had to. Whether Severus would be happy about being found was something else again, of course, but ever since he'd found those clues at Spinner's End, he'd had the feeling that Severus wouldn't be too upset if he found him. He'd just have to wait until they were actually face to face again to be sure.
Turning away from the ocean view, he headed down into the village past tidy cottages and lush gardens until he reached the first of the shops. A quick glance at the signs that lined the main street showed him what he sought. What better place to find the address of a newcomer than at the village post office?
With a hopeful smile, Remus pulled open the door and stepped into a cool, dim room where the air was alive with the soft rustlings of dozens of owls. Everything from the largest owls fit for overseas travel to the tiny, minute owls often used for local messages sat on row after row of comfortable perches, filling the post office with life. Many of the birds had their faces tucked under their wings as they napped between jobs, while others turned to eye him with interest as he approached the counter.
No human stood ready to answer his questions, but Remus spotted a silver bell sitting on the countertop. As he reached out to use it, a curtain was pushed aside and an old man with wild white hair and spectacles perched halfway down his long thin nose, came into the storefront from a room at the back.
When he saw Remus, the man shuffled forward with a smile. "I thought I heard someone come in. What can I do for you, sir? Need to send a post?"
"No. Actually I was looking for some information. I've just arrived on your lovely island, and I don't know my way around. I'm looking for a friend of mine who recently moved here. His name is Prince."
"The apothecary?" The postmaster glanced at Remus enquiringly over his spectacles.
Encouraged, Remus nodded and the old man continued. "Yes, indeed. Mr. Prince lives in the blue cottage with the peeling paint at the top of the hill at the north end of town. When you see him, you might mention that he really should put some fresh paint on that place. The climate here is tough on houses if you don't keep ahead of it." The man nodded to himself.
"The address is Larkspur Lane. Not a larkspur within 1000 miles of the place, of course, but people will bring their names with them from wherever they started. Virtually the whole island is in-comers from somewhere. Prince is just one of the latest, though he's certainly welcome. He took over the apothecary shop from old Rufus Shandy. Old Rufe wanted to retire so it was an amiable switch over and people were more than ready for it, too." He winked conspiratorially. "Old Rufe really needed to retire, if you know what I mean."
Remus smiled. "My friend is an excellent apothecary. Mr. Shandy can enjoy his retirement without a care. He's left his clientele in good hands."
The postmaster laughed. "Oh, I doubt if Old Rufe has lost any sleep over the possibility that his former clients aren't being properly served. He never cared that much when he was the one serving 'em. Still, from what I've heard everyone is right pleased at the change. So far, your friend's a big improvement. Yes, indeed."
"Can you tell me where I can find the shop?" asked Remus, reasoning that at this time of day, Severus would be far more likely to be at work than at home.
"Oh, sure." The old man rested an elbow on the counter and pointed down the street with his free hand. "Head on down into town until you come to Ratchet Row. Turn left there and the apothecary is straight down at the end of the lane. Prince had a big green sign put up a couple of weeks ago. You can't miss it."
"Thanks." Remus nodded agreeably to the old man and left the post office. Turning left, he headed down the hill toward Severus' shop. With luck he'd be talking to Severus in just a few minutes. He found it hard to keep a happy smile of anticipation off his face. He was so close now.
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Consciousness returned to Severus as he dangled upside down, facing the broad back of Mortimer Greene. He turned his face to one side to keep his broken nose from banging painfully against his captor's ribcage and squinted at the passing green and blue world in hopes of figuring out where he was being taken. But it was no good. Between the constant motion, the blood dripping into his eyes, and the disadvantage of hanging upside down, not to mention that he didn't know the island all that well yet, he wasn't able to be sure about anything other than that he was no longer in the town itself.
Hardly surprising. No self-respecting kidnapper and would be executioner would parade his newly acquired victim through the center of town unless the town was also in his hands. Since it was far more likely that these two were working alone than that they had a whole town full of confederates, he was quite prepared to find himself in one of the lonelier parts of the island. Not that he wouldn't really have enjoyed being wrong, of course.
Without warning Severus was heaved off Greene's shoulder and unceremoniously dropped. He expected to land in the foot high grass that surrounded where his captors stood, but instead, he fell through it and down several feet into a dark, rocky hole, landing painfully on a flat stony ledge to the accompaniment of jeering laughter.
With a groan, he opened his eyes and looked up through the opening in the darkness to see the two former Death Eaters peering down at him, silhouetted against the bright sky. The two men climbed down into the hole they'd tossed him into and joined him on the ledge. Then Greene shoved him onto his side, giving him another brutal blow to the ribs just because he could. Severus absorbed the blow without protest, knowing that nothing he said would help his situation in the slightest, and he didn't want to give his tormentors the satisfaction of knowing how much they'd hurt him.
As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he began to get a better sense of his surroundings. They were at the highest point in a long sloping cave. The ledge on which he lay broadened out and fell steeply away down toward a seafront entrance dozens of yards away and below, that opened onto a narrow stretch of very wet sand. As Severus watched, waves slithered across the sandy opening and broke on some jagged rocks strewn near the cave mouth. The rough stone walls beside him and above his head glistened with moisture and were encrusted with barnacles and detritus tossed up by the ocean. At high tide the entire place was apparently under water, somehow he didn't find that observation very comforting.
About halfway down the slope toward the sea entrance, a slender spire of rock extended from the roof of the cave to the floor, reminding Severus of a stick that you might wedge into the mouth of a savage creature in hopes of keeping it from biting off your hand if you were so foolish as to reach inside. All in all, it was a grim place and well isolated from the more populated sections of the island. As he looked around, Severus had a sudden sharp feeling that fate had only been toying with him by allowing him these past few months of luxurious freedom before serving him up to the dark destiny he'd always feared would be his.
A low voice muttered a spell and Severus suddenly felt his clothing vanish, though he remained tightly bound. Rough hands shoved him back down onto his face and he heard the ominous sound of a knife being pulled from its sheath. The cold metal was laid delicately against his throat for a brief moment, moving up and down with his rapidly pounding pulse.
Ackland's voice whispered harshly in his ear as the point of the knife dug ever so slightly into the flesh between his throat and his shoulder. "Welcome to Clyto's Cave. Somehow I doubt your stay will be a pleasant one." The naked blade caressed Severus' flesh lightly. "It's tempting to just slit your throat and leave your bloody body here for the fish to nibble on, but that'd be far too quick an end for you."
Severus winced as Ackland abruptly rolled him over and, with two quick strokes, carved a long, shallow T into his chest, laughing as fresh blood seeped out to stain his pale skin a lurid red. "T for traitor. So when they find you, if they find you, they won't doubt what you were."
Then Greene grabbed him roughly, dragged his body down the slope across the sharp rocky floor, and slammed him against that central column of rock he'd noticed when he first looked around. Instantly new ropes shot from Ackland's wand to bind Severus' aching, bleeding body to the rock, and then both men stood staring down at him with eager, nasty grins.
"Did you know that pirates used to use this cave to execute their prisoners, Snape?" said Greene with a smirk. "Oh, yeah. I used to love hearing the stories when I was a kid. They'd tie them to this rock, just like you're tied now and wait for the tide to come in and cover them over." He turned and pointed toward the sea entrance to the cave which had significantly more water in it than it had the last time Severus glanced that way.
"The water's going to creep up across the rocks and cover your feet and legs, then suddenly it'll be up around your waist, then your chest…then, before you know it, you'll be stretching your scrawny neck out as far as it can be stretched just to try and keep that humongous nose of yours above water, but it's a lost cause. The sea wins this contest every single time."
Both men chuckled gleefully, but Severus just glared at them from his seat on the rocky floor. If Greene had been hearing stories about this cave and this island, as a child, then most likely he'd spent quite a bit of time here over the years, which explained a lot. At least he hadn't lost his ability to cover his tracks. He wasn't followed to the island; he just had the abominably bad luck to select a hiding place where an enemy was already in residence. Fate definitely had a perverse sense of humor where he was concerned; there was no doubt about it.
"Well," Greene looked at his partner and grinned. "What should we do while we're waiting for the tide to rise and do our work for us, huh?"
Ackland stared down at Snape and smiled. "I'm glad you asked. I think we can find something to do to pass the time. We wouldn't want old Severus here to get bored now, would we?"
Both Death Eaters laughed nastily and Severus shivered at the sound as it echoed in the dim cavern. Then he silently watched the silvery, restless movement of the incoming tide, as Ackland raised his wand and pointed it at his captive's head.