It was almost noon when Amy began to stir and finally awoke. "Mama?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Yes, darling, I'm here," Catherine soothed, sitting up to make room for Vincent as he eased down next to them on the bed.
"Good morning, Amy," he said warmly. "How are you feeling today?"
Amy scanned the room with huge eyes, the way she lifted her brows very much reminiscent of Vincent. "He's not here?" she asked timidly.
"Who, honey?" Catherine prompted with a quick side-glance at Vincent.
"The man," Amy replied gingerly.
"The man who took you away from the nursery?" Vincent asked.
But she just shook her head vigorously.
"Then how did you get out of your bed?" he inquired.
"I climbed," she said simply.
Catherine cast her a stern look. " You know that you're not supposed
to do that."
Amy hung her head guiltily, and instantly Vincent reached out to
tousle the russet curls reassuringly.
"She called me," the girl defended herself, and when she noted the puzzled look Vincent and Catherine exchanged, she added, "The Fairy."
"Was that who she said she was?" Catherine asked carefully.
Again Amy shook her head. "She didn't talk. Just made me come."
"How would she do that?" Catherine coaxed gently, by now thoroughly mystified as to what could possibly have happened in the nursery almost a week ago.
The child only shrugged.
"Where did the Fairy take you?" Vincent resumed the interrogation.
"To the man," came the reply.
Catherine exchanged another look with Vincent, and she could see
her own dread and concern reflected in his troubled eyes.
"What did the man do?" Vincent finally asked.
Amy shrugged again. "He watched me."
"And then?" Catherine prompted carefully.
"Then I slept, and the Fairy took me back." With a smug grin in Vincent's direction she added, "Vincent scared her. And then she was gone."
Catherine could feel Vincent's anger roil beneath his tightly controlled composure. "Well, how about some breakfast?" she offered brightly, stroking Amy's head.
"Cocoa?" Amy asked hopefully.
"Cocoa," Catherine confirmed with a smile.
"Let's go," Amy enthused, but Vincent's large hands caught her when she was just about to jump off the bed.
"Not so fast, young lady," Catherine laughed and took the child from Vincent's arm. "Let's get you dressed first." A fleeting look at Vincent's face told her of the turmoil he was in, but he was quick to re-establish his guarded expression.
"Won't you come with us?" she asked as he retreated a few steps and busied himself by replacing a few candle stumps on his writing table.
"No," he declined reservedly, and her heart sank even further as he added, "I have some thinking to do."
Once outside the chamber, Catherine pressed a kiss on Amy's cheek, asking, "Do you think it would be all right if I asked Mary to take you to breakfast? I'm afraid Vincent is going to need my help."
"Okay," Amy said simply, bouncing up and down on Catherine's arms impatiently.
As soon as the child had been surrendered into Mary's expert care, Catherine hurried to get back to Vincent. She stopped just outside his chamber when emotion charged voices reached her from inside.
"There is nothing you could possibly achieve by that," Father entreated. "He didn't harm the child after all. In fact, he took good care of her for the time she was with him."
Vincent gave a scornful laugh. "Like he took good care of me when I was little," he retorted, his voice tense with pent-up anger. "And besides, we do not know, yet, what kind of harm he may have done to the child. Maybe she just can't remember. Maybe he just put some kind of...spell on her."
"But he did release her in the end," Father reasoned.
"Then, what do you think we should do?" Vincent countered, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Are we supposed to fold our hands in our laps and wait and wonder whether Paracelsus deigns to leave us in peace? Paracelsus is unpredictable and dangerous. We cannot take such a risk. This has to stop once and for all."
"And you are going to stop it. Aren't you?" Father gave back with exasperation.
Vincent's voice dropped to a low murmur when he responded, "How can I do anything less than at least try?"
"Vincent, this is insane!" Father exclaimed. And then both men turned toward the entrance when Catherine took a few hesitant step into the room.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I didn't want to interrupt your discussion either."
"You mean our argument," Father amended with a rueful smile.
Catherine's gaze wandered from Father to Vincent who stood there motionless with downcast eyes, his face hidden behind the curtain of his hair.
"I'm sorry, Catherine," he said tonelessly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"You intend to seek out Paracelsus anyway," she stated the obvious.
With an impatient gesture of his hand, Vincent turned to leave the room. "Please understand that I will not discuss this further," he tossed out, his jaw set in determination as he passed her on his way out.
Catherine looked after him in utter bewilderment, and when she finally turned toward Father, she could see that he wasn't feeling any better.
"Do you think his encounter with Paracelsus changed him?" she asked, walking over to the tunnel patriarch who stood there with hanging shoulders, leaning heavily on his cane.
"You must know, Catherine, that -- even though you may never have seen Vincent acting that way -- this is not an unusual behavior for him. When all comes down to protecting his world, and those that he loves, there is this stubborn quality about him, this relentless determination. Please know that he will do everything within his power to keep us all safe."
"But at what cost?" she exclaimed desperately.
Father's shoulders slumped even more, and his only response was a hopeless sigh.
*
Father had left, and Catherine was sitting alone in Vincent's chamber, brooding. She knew by now that it wouldn't do any good to ask him to take her with him, but the thought that he would be exposed to Paracelsus' whims once more, almost killed her. She had no doubts whatsoever that the Alchemist would evade any direct confrontation, that he would use the most vulnerable spots in Vincent's character and ruthlessly turn them against him. She had to be there with him when that happened. Why couldn't he just allow her to help him, for a change?
Images of Vincent, and what he had been like the night after his first return from Paracelsus, drifted through her mind. How he had needed her without even knowing that she was there. How she had held him, supported him, loved him. A familiar resolve grew within her, and as she pushed herself from the chair, she suddenly knew everything about that stubborn quality, that relentless determination Father had mentioned to her.
*
"You can do it, Catherine," Jamie said, holding out one hand through a narrow opening in the rock. "I know this crevice is very small, but if I fit through you will, too."
Catherine clenched her teeth and, exhaling firmly, tried again. But she finally had to take off her quilted jacket, and even her heavy sweater, lest she get stuck in that damn hole.
"I guess a diet would be in order," she gasped when she emerged on the other side.
"You're not serious," Jamie laughed, helping her don her clothes again and shoulder her backpack.
"Have you ever been down to where Paracelsus lives?" Catherine inquired as they retrieved their lanterns and walked on companionably.
"No," Jamie responded with a shudder, "and I don't have the slightest inclination to."
"How come you know the way down there so well?"
"We know that way so well in order to avoid it," the girl explained solemnly.
"I see. And after what we've just been through, and I mean that literally," Catherine joked with a glance in the direction of the crevice, "I also understand why Vincent wouldn't use this path."
They both laughed, imagining Vincent trying to squeeze through there.
"You know, it was actually Vincent who showed me the path through
the crevice," Jamie told her.
"He said that he had discovered it when he was still a child."
"And small enough to fit through," Catherine added, and they laughed again.
"It's a fabulous shortcut," Jamie said enthusiastically. "It saves us almost a half day's journey. Otherwise you could forget the hope to ever catch up with Vincent."
"How can you be so sure that he will set up his camp where you told me he would?" Catherine asked anxiously.
"Because it's where we store some firewood. And because there's water there to cook and to wash. And for some other reasons. But don't be so fidgety. We catch him. You'll see."
"Thank you, Jamie. I really appreciate your help. I owe you."
"Think nothing of it," Jamie said without stopping or turning around. "Men have to be shown that they are better off with our help, far better than they care to admit."
I just wish Vincent could see it that way, Catherine thought with a wry smile.
*
After a brisk walk of about ten hours Vincent reached the bank of the underground river that served as a campsite for those who would come this deep on their explorations of the mysterious world of the tunnels and caverns far below the light of day. From here one could travel along the river to the sea, a laborious journey but a rewarding one. Descending the last few steps to the smooth, even floor of the bank, Vincent recalled with a fond smile how he and his brother Devin had gone on that journey once -- without Father's blessing, of course -- but it had been worth even the lecture that had followed on their return. Oh, the sense of freedom when the tunnel had opened into the endless scope of the sea and the sky, and the joy at the sailing clouds and the soaring seabirds....
Finding himself getting lost in dreams of yesterday, of sunlight and flying, Vincent stooped to put down his lantern. He shrugged out of his backpack and busied himself with setting up his camp for the night. Actually, he was not really tired yet, but it was late, since he had only set out on his journey in the early afternoon hours, not in the morning which would have been more favorable.
When the fire was built, Vincent extinguished the lantern and unwrapped a flat pallet that would serve as his bed. Preparing a simple but nourishing meal, his thoughts wandered back to his and Devin's trip to the sea. They had camped right here many times, because this was the starting point for other journeys as well. A little farther down the corridor ahead of him, several other tunnels branched off, one of which led to a system of crystal caverns, a breathtaking sight for everyone who cared to take the hardships of that trip upon themselves. And then there was the path that he would have to take. It led down a number of twisted staircases and shafts that could only be descended by means of ropes or ladders. It was the only path he knew that would take him to Paracelsus. He had never actually been there before, but he had explored the vicinity once. That had been many years ago, when he had first heard of another group of people living Below. It had not only been curiosity that drove him, back then. It was also his deeply ingrained sense of being responsible for the safety of his world. He'd simply found it unbearable to know that there was something unknown and unpredictable close by that might pose a threat to his home. All he had been able to accomplish, though, was gathering information to complete the maps. He had not encountered anyone. But then, he hadn't ventured directly into the hub of that community either.
It was a dark path that was lying ahead of him, and he shuddered at the thought of walking through barely known territory with no possibility of evading dangers or threats. If he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that it was almost like walking into a trap. For the first time, he truly allowed himself to understand Father's objections to this endeavor and he felt a deep empathy toward the old man. But this was not the moment for doubts and uncertainties. He had to do something! He had to see it through.
After finishing his meal and cleaning and putting away the dishes, he acquired a cross-legged position, palms resting on his knees, and started to empty his mind. It was vital that he maintain a clear head and a certain balance of his emotional state. It was a bit difficult, though, to conjure the image of the calm surface of a pond with the sound of the running river nearby, but finally the perfect picture of a full moon swam upon the undisturbed mirror of the water before his inner eye.
Vincent sat there, inwardly listening, for a long time. But suddenly something stirred within the silence, sending ripples across the water and alerting him instantly. He cocked his head, trying to make out any sounds in the darkness beyond the dim glow of the dying embers. But aside from the running river there was nothing. And yet...
Catherine! Instantly he got to his feet, tiny needles pricking his legs, since he had remained in one and the same position for so long. He could sense her close by. But how could that be?
The realization that she had come after him was quickly followed by annoyance. How could she do that to him? How could she be so stubborn? And how had she managed to catch up with him in the first place? She must have come along the only shortcut he knew, the one he hadn't been able to use since he was a child. His mind raced, displaying his options before him. There was still enough time to clear the area and disappear before she found him. That would certainly discourage her and she, and whoever was helping her, would have to give up and walk back.
But at the same time he knew that he would do no such thing. Dropping to the ground again, he sighed resignedly and reached for a stick to stoke the embers of the fireplace. Light and warmth was what she would need after her long walk, for, although it was a shortcut, she would have been on her feet for hours. He sighed again. This was not going to be easy. Not at all.
*
"There," Jamie said triumphantly, pointing her finger at something Catherine could not yet see. During the last two hours she had fallen behind on their hike, and Jamie had tried not to make it too obvious that she'd had to slow down a couple of times in order for Catherine to catch up with her again. Under different circumstances Catherine would have found this rather embarrassing, but now she was simply too tired to mind at all. Although she jogged regularly to stay in shape, she was in no way prepared for the physical exertion of an underground hike.
Pulling herself up to the ledge Jamie was sitting on, Catherine peered through the opening in the stony wall.
And there he was, the back of his head and broad shoulders silhouetted
sharply against the flickering light of the fire. Her heart skipped a beat
at the sight she had so desperately craved.
"Thank you, Jamie," she breathed hoarsely. "Thank you so much."
"I told you we would find him," the young woman whispered back. And with a somewhat uncertain glance toward the imposing figure down there she added, "I guess I'd better leave the two of you alone now. If I hurry, I can be back before morning."
Catherine was fleetingly aware of Jamie's doubts as to whether Vincent would be as grateful for her help as she was, but she only murmured, "That's all right. I can manage on my own from here."
With a nod Jamie retreated into the cave and was out of sight in an instant, and Catherine couldn't help but marvel at the girl's perseverance.
Slowly, wearily, Catherine gathered her remaining strength about her and pushed herself to her feet. With one last wistful look at the peaceful scene by the fire, she cast away her sudden doubt about the wisdom of her actions. It was too late anyway. Gingerly she stumbled down the rocky slope toward Vincent.