Sarah Morgan Summer Collection

‘He hasn’t been swept into the sea. Don’t even think about it.’ Kyla spoke briskly but her stride quickened. ‘Fraser isn’t stupid. And, anyway, we were down there earlier. If he’d been hanging around, we would have seen him.’

‘Unless he went to a different beach.’

The both stopped and searched with their eyes and shouted, but their cries were snatched away by the rising wind.

‘Why would he go to school for the morning and then leave? It doesn’t make sense.’ Kyla reached up to stop her hair blowing into her face, a frown in her eyes as she stared at the ocean. ‘If you’re going to play truant, why turn up at all? Why do half a day at school?’

‘You think that’s significant?’

‘I don’t know. It might be. I’m going to call Ann Carne again, but I’ll do it from the house. It’s too wild on this beach to hear properly. And, Ethan …’ She put a hand on his arm and her blue eyes were worried. ‘I think you might be right. Perhaps we’d better put in a call to the coastguard. Just put them on alert.’

He followed her to the house and made the call, and when he’d finished she was standing next to him, an urgent look on her face.

‘I’ve spoken to Ann Carne.’

‘And?’

‘The last lesson of the morning was history. They were doing something on the Celts and Vikings.’

He looked at her blankly, failing to follow her train of thought. ‘Why is that significant?’

‘Because the bloodiest battle of this island’s history was fought between the Celts and the Vikings.’

‘And Fraser loves history. It’s his favourite subject.’ He looked at her, suddenly understanding. ‘Where was this battle fought?’

‘The castle.’

He gave a grim smile and reached for his keys. ‘Let’s go.’

Kyla huddled the coat around her and peered at the sky as Ethan pressed his foot to the accelerator. ‘There’s a wild storm coming. Let’s hope we find him before it hits. We could walk from here but it’s probably quicker to take the car.’

‘He might not be anywhere near the castle. We might be completely wrong. Can we park near the ruins? How close can I get?’

‘Pull in further up the road—that’s right. This is good. We have to walk from here.’ She undid her seat belt and was out of the car before he’d even switched off the engine. ‘The kids do come and play up here sometimes. During the day there are guides, waiting to tell horror stories of the dungeons.’

‘Just the sort of thing to appeal to a twelve-year-old with a vivid imagination.’

‘Precisely.’

‘But wouldn’t there have been guides today? If he came up here this afternoon then surely someone would have seen him?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s only open from ten until two. My guess is he actually waited for them to leave so that he could explore.’

‘I haven’t even had a chance to look round the ruins yet.’

‘They’re brilliant. Remind me to bring you here under less stressful circumstances.’ She broke into a run, thinking about Fraser. What would have been in his head? Where would he have gone?

She clambered over the crumbling stone wall that led into the main part of the castle. ‘Fraser? Fraser!’ The wind took her voice and carried it away and she looked at Ethan with frustration. ‘Even if he is here, he’s never going to hear us above the weather.’

‘Then we just have to search.’

She looked at him helplessly. ‘The place is a warren and it’s getting dark.’ She suddenly realised that she’d given no thought to the approach of night, and when Ethan pressed a torch into her hand she almost sobbed with relief. ‘Thank goodness one of us was thinking.’

‘You were thinking, Kyla,’ he said roughly, switching on his own torch and sending a powerful beam over the surrounding landscape. ‘It was your thinking that got us up here. Now we just need to search. If he’s here then he should see the light.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve been thinking, Ethan.’ Kyla looked round her, focussed her eyes on the dark, crumbling ruins of the castle. ‘Fraser wouldn’t want his Mum to worry. He wouldn’t be hiding on purpose.’

‘He played truant.’

‘But for the afternoon.’ Kyla bit her lip. ‘I bet he was planning to home before the end of school so his mother wouldn’t even know he was missing. Don’t you remember that day on the beach when he came to get me? He didn’t want his mum to know. He really cares about her. He thinks about her.’

‘You’re suggesting that he’s injured.’

‘Yes.’ Kyla nodded slowly and forced herself to take a deep breath. ‘Yes, that’s what I think has happened. So he might not see the torchlight, Ethan.’

Ethan’s mouth hardened and he gave a nod. ‘So we need to look carefully.’

‘For goodness’ sake, be careful walking along the ramparts. There’s a sheer drop on the far side. There is a fence but the wind is fierce.’ And she desperately hoped that Fraser hadn’t gone in that direction.

Zipping up her coat to give her protection against the rising wind, Kyla moved through the ruins methodically, making the most of her local knowledge to search.

But she saw nothing. Found nothing. And by the time she met up with Ethan again, she was finding it hard not to panic.

‘Nothing. No sign of anyone. It was a stupid idea. He obviously isn’t here.’

‘Well, he’s not home either because I just called Nick Hillier to check. I didn’t want to worry Aisla, so I called him direct.’ The wind howled angrily at them and Ethan caught her arm and drew her behind the comparative shelter of a wall. ‘Earlier on, you said something about the guides telling stories about the dungeons.’

‘Yes, but you can’t go into the dungeons any more because they aren’t safe. They’ve been closed off to the public for years and—’ She broke off and shook her head in horror. ‘No. No, he wouldn’t have done that.’

Ethan closed his hands over the top of her arms and gave her a gentle shake. ‘Where’s the entrance? Where?’

‘You go into the keep and there’s a tunnel, but it’s blocked off. At the end of the tunnel there’s a door, but that’s kept locked. There’s no way he could—’

‘And how do you know about the door, Kyla MacNeil?’ He tightened his grip and then released her and started to run towards the keep.

‘Because I did the same thing at his age,’ Kyla whispered, as she followed him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE tunnel was dark and smelt dank and musty.

‘At least we can hear ourselves think in here,’ Ethan murmured, as he flashed the torch downwards to illuminate their feet. ‘I’m beginning to see what you mean about Glenmore and storms.’ His feet made a splashing noise and he shone the torch down. ‘It’s very wet.’

‘The rain pours in here. The whole dungeon floods in the winter. Ouch.’ She’d lost her footing and clutched at his arm, feeling his muscles bunch under her fingers as he took her weight and steadied her.

‘Go slowly. It’s treacherous underfoot.’

‘Let’s try shouting.’ She stopped dead. ‘Fraser? Fraser!’