Stephen Lawhead - The Skin Map

“I see,” replied Cosimo doubtfully.

“You disagree, sir?”

“Not entirely.” Cosimo shook his head. “No.”

Sir Henry took a sip from his silver cup and waved his hand as if swatting a fly. “Tosh! You and I both know we cannot allow any outside interference. The rumour has spread, and it is beginning to attract interest. We must eliminate any serious inquiry before someone stumbles upon the truth.”

“My chief concern is that they might see through your sham experiment,” said Cosimo, swirling the sweet liquid in his cup.

“One or two might,” conceded Sir Henry, “given the chance. The rest would not recognise a genuine scientific principle if it jumped up and bit them on the bum. I shall, of course, choose my participant observers from amongst the latter.”

Kit listened to this exchange, and it occurred to him that Sir Henry moved easily from his antique English into Cosimo’s and Kit’s modern version. From this, he surmised that the two had enjoyed a long acquaintance. However that might be, in one thing he was confirmed: Sir Henry, for all his lofty airs, was a levelheaded, trustworthy, and honourable man. How very civilised, Kit decided.

It should be like this always. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to stay here and be a part of whatever it was the two grand gentlemen were cooking up between them. He was thinking how this might be accomplished when he heard his name mentioned.

“… and Kit here can help,” said Cosimo. Both men turned to him and seemed to expect some sort of reply.

“I-uh,” ventured Kit, “would be happy to assist in any way I can, of course.” He was not at all certain what he had agreed to just then, but felt it was the right thing to do.

“Splendid!” said Sir Henry. “More Oporto?” he said, proffering the decanter.

“I don’t mind if I do,” said Kit, smiling the muzzy smile of the mildly intoxicated.

While Kit nursed his drink, the other two talked about the impending experiment and how to sabotage it. Eventually, they agreed on a plan and Cosimo said, “There is just one small thing that’s come up, and I’d welcome your advice, Sir Henry.”

“Of course, dear fellow. Anything. How can I be of service?”

“We seem to have lost someone on our way here,” said Cosimo. “A young lady friend of Kit’s has gone missing. It appears she followed Kit and failed to complete the crossing.”

“That is most unfortunate, I daresay.” The lord scientist clucked his tongue with disapproval. “What the devil was she playing at, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Sorry,” said Kit, speaking up. “It was all my fault. I was showing her about the leys and, well…” He gave a shrug of helpless ignorance. “I guess something went wrong.”

“So it would seem.” Sir Henry gave a questioning glance to Cosimo. “One would have thought you might have taken the proper precautions.”

“He has received no training from me,” replied Cosimo. “It seems he has picked up the knack on his own.”

This information caused Sir Henry’s eyebrows to rise sharply. “Ah-ha!” he said. “Our young chap is a prodigy? A natural?”

“I believe he is.”

“Runs in the family, I suppose.” Sir Henry turned an appraising gaze to Kit. “So much potential. I, for one, would not like to see it wasted.”

“He will be schooled, never fear,” said Cosimo with conviction.

“What about the young lady in question?”

“I know nothing about her whatsoever,” Cosimo said, turning to Kit.

“Please believe me when I say I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong,” said Kit in his own defence. “I only meant to show her what had happened to me and, well, it happened again. In any case, all I know is that we were together in the alley and then we weren’t. She’s my girlfriend-”

At Sir Henry’s puzzled expression, Cosimo interjected, “He means sweetheart.”

“Ah!” said Sir Henry. “Pray continue.”

“Wilhelmina’s gone, and I feel responsible,” concluded Kit. “I said I’d take care of her, but I lost her instead. We have to rescue her.”

“Find her we shall, sir! Never fear,” replied Sir Henry. “And once we have found her, the young lady will be returned to her place of origin-of that you may be sure.”

This made Kit feel better. “Then shouldn’t we start looking right away?”

“Indeed, sir. I stand ready to offer my fullest assistance.”

“As always,” said Cosimo, “your generosity runs far ahead of our request. We are most grateful.”

The nobleman waved aside the compliment. “Tosh, sir! Think nothing of it.”

“I was hoping you might have some idea about where we should start our search,” Cosimo continued.

“Of course. Tell me, exactly where did the young woman go missing?”

“On Stane Way,” answered Cosimo.

Sir Henry pursed his lips for a moment, then took a sip of port. After a moment’s reflection, he sighed and said, “Yes, well, it would have to be there, I suppose.”

“Is that bad?” asked Kit.

“Let us say that it will multiply the difficulty of our task inestimably.”

“Why is that?”

“Stane Way is a particularly old and active intersection,” began Cosimo.

“More circus than intersection!” offered Sir Henry. “There are at least five major crossings along that line-if not more. Your friend has presumably parted company with you at one of them. But consider the Stane ley as a corridor with doors opening to other rooms, do you see? Each of those other rooms has doors, and there is no telling where the doors from those other rooms might lead. In any case, I warn you,” he said sternly, his beard quivering at its point, “it will be dangerous. There are forces that wish us ill-”

“Like those men?” wondered Kit.

“We met Burley Men outside Sefton,” explained Cosimo.

“Ah!” confirmed Sir Henry. “So the enemy are nosing around again.”

“They know about my piece of the map.”

“Do they now!” exclaimed Sir Henry. “This changes everything.”

The nobleman grew reflective. Kit and Cosimo exchanged an uneasy glance. Sir Henry nodded to himself, then said, “I feel I must warn you both, Burley and his brutes are not the only danger we will face. There are others. Also,” he cautioned, “you must accept that it may not be a swift search. Such an undertaking will require a great deal of patience.”

Kit considered this. “Is there no way to speed up the search? Thing is, Wilhelmina’s not a very strong person. She is barely able to cope with normal life-something like this could kill her. I feel terrible about getting her involved, and if anything happens to her, it’ll be my fault.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she’s going to survive on her own.”

“Be that as it may, we dare not rush headlong into a rescue,” replied Sir Henry. “Alea iacta est.”

“Sir?” wondered Kit.

“The die has been cast.”

“No kidding,” said Kit.

Stinging rain and a savage blast of wind left Wilhelmina standing in a muddy puddle gasping for breath. Wet to the skin, she smeared the water from her eyes with the back of her hand and looked around-instantly closing her eyes again: an instinctive reaction, the rational mind’s desperate attempt to maintain coherence in the face of a displacement so severe as to shatter reality to smithereens.

London had vanished.

In place of the lively, thrusting metropolitan conurbation was an empty rural wilderness of damp brown fields under low autumnal skies. In that briefest of glimpses, she had seen enough to know that whatever had happened to her threatened not only her perception of herself in the world, but sanity itself. In the grip of such a devastating shock, she did what anyone would do: she opened her mouth and screamed.