I shrieked. I didn’t know rain could fall so hard and fast. Montgomery and Edward ran for the compound. I picked up my skirts and ran behind them, slipping in the quickly forming mud. A second before I crossed the threshold, I startled. Above the entrance, two sets of eyes watched. I blinked away the rain. Two figures were carved in the stone: the Lamb of God and the Lion of Judah. Their eternal eyes, chipped and streaked with lichen, seemed to rumble with the rolls of thunder. I tore away from their spellbinding gaze and hurried through the wooden doors.
Thirteen
THE INTERIOR OF THE compound was rimmed with a covered portico that gave us shelter from the rain. I hunched into myself like a drenched cat that had been thrown into the gutter. My white dress was covered in mud and sludge and sand. My skin itched for the feel of warm, dry clothing.
Montgomery set down the rabbit hutch and leaned into the heavy wooden doors to ease them closed, sealing out the jungle.
The compound was bigger than it looked from the exterior. Stone walls surrounded a dirt courtyard rapidly filling with mud puddles. A vegetable garden and chicken yard had been built on slightly higher ground. Next to the garden, a pump stood over a sunken pool of water, whose surface trembled in the rain.
A handful of buildings clustered around the courtyard. I wondered which one Father had disappeared into. Next to the wooden gate was the largest edifice, with windows on the first and second stories shaded by wide-slatted shutters. Wispy smoke rose from a tin chimney. A weathered old barn with wide eaves sat across from the big stone building. The little boy reached out from the barn’s half door to catch raindrops in his open palm. There were a few smaller buildings, probably no larger than a room each. Directly across from me hunkered a squat building with tin walls, painted blood red. No windows. Something about it lodged a dull pain in my side, as if a fractured rib now pierced my right lung.
“What’s that building?”
Montgomery didn’t even glance up. “The laboratory.”
I wiped the rain from my face. That low, red building made me uneasy, but the rest of the compound was in good working order. This was clearly someone’s home, not the wild den of some madman. The portico had been freshly swept and the garden was well-tended, despite the mud puddles. My skirt grazed against the interior wall and came off with a coating of chalky dust from fresh whitewash.
Beside me, Edward leaned against the wall, taking long breaths. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. Part of me felt oddly protective of him. But he was a survivor. He’d been through worse than this and come through it.
“You’ll be all right,” I said.
“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” he whispered, giving me a penetrating look. “I’m not sure you should have come here, Juliet. There’s something strange about this island. About your father.”
I folded my arms, not wanting to hear more. I didn’t altogether disagree with him, but I wasn’t ready to admit that aloud. The rain lightened, and the little boy darted across the courtyard into one of the small apartments. The sound of a hammer started up again.
Montgomery ran a hand through his soaked hair. He was quieter than usual, as if worried I might be disappointed by their simple home.
A slamming door made us both jump.
Father stepped onto the portico from the large building, rubbing his hands. “I’ve put the kettle on,” he said, his eyes traveling over my dirty dress to Montgomery’s muddy boots to Edward’s seawater-soaked clothes. He frowned. “Good Lord. You’re all disgusting. Good thing we’ve no neighbors. The tea can wait. Montgomery, be so good as to show Juliet to her room while I have a bath prepared.”
Father frowned at Edward. “Prince, I’m afraid there’s only the one spare room. Perhaps we can make a place for you in the storage shed. Hitherto, it has been used to store feed for the horses.”
“I’m sure it will do fine,” Edward said, but his knuckles clenched white as bone behind his back.
Father stared at the muddy rim of my skirt. “I need to look over the shipment while there’s still some daylight. That should give you a few hours to make yourself presentable, Juliet, and then we can talk civilly.” He waved Edward toward the main building. “Come inside, Prince. It will take a few minutes to ready your room, and I’ve a question or two for you if you’re to stay here.”
I threw Edward a nervous look, but his face was calm. For a boy used to a privileged life, he was surprisingly brave. I wondered what he’d told himself to get through those long, desperate days on the dinghy. Then I remembered the photograph, with that tingle of curiosity, and wondered again what he was running from.
“This way,” Montgomery said. I tore my eyes from Edward and followed Montgomery through the portico. His boots left muddy prints on the stone floor as he led me toward one of the apartments. A few scrawny chickens huddled in the top of the open henhouse to stay dry. As we passed the garden, Montgomery darted into the rain to gather a few pea pods. He handed one to me.
The sweet, earthy taste was paradise after weeks of dried meat and tinny canned vegetables. I pointed to the chickens. “I wouldn’t mind one of those for supper.”
“They’re only for eggs,” he said. “We don’t eat meat here.”
“That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Not fish nor flesh. That’s the rule.”
“Another of Father’s commandments?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice.