Braeland

Chapter 1. Digging a Hole

FOR MY DAUGHTER, ANNA

The circle on the ground was about 24 feet in diameter and perfectly round.  It was light grey and not a single blade of grass, not even a weed, was growing there.  It was as if a spaceship had touched down and scorched the ground.  It was exactly like the way Peter left it exactly a year ago, after Jon threw the Braeland medallion at those two menacing hunters from Greenwold, and an explosion occurred.  

Parsnips, Peter's pet and best friend, also surveyed this place, his head poking out of Peter's pocket.  Peter was about to step into the circle when the mouse shook its head and waved its paw.

"You're saying it's dangerous, after all this time?" Peter asked.

Parsnips nodded his head.  This made Peter pause.  He still felt some responsibility for the damage caused by the jibblies and for Jon's injury.  He was the bridge from one world to the other.  And now that was over.  The medallion had been destroyed along with the two hunters and all that remained was one link of the chain that held up the medallion and the sheath that had once held this treasure of Braeland.  His sister Prudence wore the link on a slender chain.  Peter held the sheath in his hand. 

He felt an impulse to turn away and return to his father's cottage.  But all he would find there would be sadness.  Oh, his father might offer to go on a walk with him but they would both be silent.  Prudence refused to leave her bedroom – in fact, she rarely got out of bed ever since something terrible happened to the family in the winter.  

The horrible thing was that Mrs. Lucy Jamieson had died in February from cancer.  One day she was well and the next very sick.  Everything was done to try to cure her, including a trip to Rochester where the best specialists of the Mayo Clinic examined her.  But her end came quickly and she did not suffer much from pain or at least that is what the family was told.  Jim Jamieson was doing his best to comfort his children.  He thought that a few weeks at the cottage would make everyone feel more normal.  They all – especially Prudence – had been spending too much time visiting Lucy's grave. 

Peter had toyed with asking his sister to visit the place where so much had happened a year ago but, in thinking further, he knew everything about it would be negative for her. In her depression, she had drifted away from Jon, her boyfriend, and he would be going to another city to go to university within a month.  Their grandfather Martin, who had been their closest companion on the adventure, had to return to his university job in England after spending a couple of months with the family following Lucy's death.  Life, especially for Prudence, seemed lost and hopeless.

Peter was too taken by his quest of the previous year to turn and walk away.  He took the mouse out of his pocket and set him down on the edge of the circle.  "Sorry old chum but I can't stop myself," he explained.  Parsnips put his down head and covered it with his paws as if he was weeping.  

"Here, I'll leave you the sheath to keep you company and you can climb inside it if you're afraid.  I'm just going to take a quick look," Peter continued.  The ground was smooth and he noticed that he was leaving no footprints behind him as he walked.  It was like a golf green, only grey.  He circled around in smaller and smaller circles.  No dust, no variety, nothing to pick up.  He noticed one strange thing.  There was a wind blowing before he stepped in the circle and, even now, he could see and hear it rustling the leaves of the trees nearby.  But, there was no breath of wind inside the circle.  He stepped outside the circle and it was breezy again.  

When he went back a second time he walked in a line directly from one side of the circle to the other and then he leaned down to try and scrape away some earth in a spot near the edge. A garden spade would not be able to get down below the surface and even a pick-axe would have a hard time of it. He looked over at Parsnips.  The mouse was standing upright beside the sheath with his paws wriggling.  "Oh I guess you're right little fellow.  There's nothing useful to find here and definitely nothing to be afraid of," Peter said.

He returned to pick up Parsnips and put him back in his pocket.  He picked up the sheath and just to show the mouse there was nothing to fear, he walked back into the circle for the third time.  Now something did happen because the sheath became heavy.  He took the mouse outside the ring and repeated what he had done before, walked in a circle.  The sheath weighed him down.  As he did smaller circles it got heavier and so he went right to the center of the circle where it was heaviest of all.  

Now, what to do?  His earlier effort at scratching down into the ground was useless.  The ground at the center was equally as hard.  He scratched and kicked at what he judged to be the very central point without making a dent.  But as he moved around, going a little way off the center he found a soft spot. He got on his hands and knees and began to dig out dust.  He noticed that Parsnips had come into the circle to watch him.  The hole was about 6 inches around.  His fingernails were getting torn but he could not stop now.  Down about a foot, the tunnel curved towards the center of the circle.  His shoulder ached from all the work clawing and dragging out the dust.  The mouse continued to watch with an expression that looked like sad resignation.  The sun was going down while he worked and worked, with only inches more before he would have to give up because his hand could not reach any further, and he would have to bring some other kind of tool to keep this up.  

It was then that he felt something metallic.