Chapter One

The island drifted into view through a veil of fog. The boat rumbled to the dock and settled as a tiny town appeared, adorned with horses, pubs, and cottages too musty to be quaint. My eyes followed the foot trails that lead into the mountain's cliffs and forested regions, and my feet itched to be exploring. The sailor that had given me the ride over to Cairnholm turned at the wheel and smiled at me. "Welcome to Cairnholm, Miss Thorne."

"Thank you," I replied politely, stepping off the boat with my suitcase in hand. The salty ocean breeze rose chill-bumps on my arms, and I second-guessed my decision to wear a short-sleeved button-down and a skirt. It didn't seem very practical now, at this tiny island so close to the ocean. But it would have to do for now. I stepped past gatherings of workers, lugging carts back and forth or taking a minute to sit. At the end of the dock, a pub sat perpendicular to the ocean, allowing an easy view of its sign: The Meddled Minstrel. This is the place, I thought, and stepped inside.

A collection of people- mostly men and wenches- were within the pub, having a beer or a warm meal, taking a break from work for supper. I scanned them all- none seemed like the proper woman that sent me a letter. My Aunt Imogene had requested my presence for only a short week before my arranged marriage took place, whisking me away to Ireland. I barely knew my aunt- she had moved to this distant island fifteen years ago, when I was only a tiny baby.

"Lost?"

The voice was polite, and I looked over to see the bartender looking at me. I shook my head, pulling my letter out of my skirt pocket. "This is the place, I just don't see the woman I'm supposed to meet up with."

He frowned slightly and looked around the bar. "Who is she? I know everyone on the island."

He seemed proud of this and I took a seat at the barstool closest to me. "Imogene Hazel. Do you know her?"

"Yes," he said with a triumphant smile. "Tall woman, narrow frame, always wearing a white hat- a bit like a dandelion. Why, she was in town not ten minutes ago, walked by with a bag of vegetables. She should be in here any minute now. Would you like a drink to pass the time?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you- alcohol isn't exactly my favorite type of beverage."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself; if you need anything, I'll not be far off."

He returned to bar-tending and I heard a soft mew from my bag. I nudged it and whispered, "Keep it down, Hutch." A faint hiss sounded in response and I sighed. Just then, the door swung open to the tink of a bell and a gust of freezing ocean wind sweeping over the bar. I looked up to see her- tall, narrow, a gray dress and white hat, just like a dandelion, as the bartender had said. Her eyes scanned the bar and stopped on me. I smiled politely and she crossed the pub to me.

"Well, hello, Iris. Welcome to Cairnholm." She pulled me into a quick hug, and as she pulled away she took me by the forearm and led me out of the pub. "Come with me- we'll get you into something warmer. Why, you're shivering!" Once outside, Aunt Imogene immediately hopped onto a carriage that was waiting, taking me with her. I sat down, breathless, and dropped my bag into the floorboard. To the driver, Aunt Imogene said quickly, "To my house." She turned to me and I took in her features- small gray eyes, broad cheeks, thin lips, crows-feet bordering her eyes. "Now then, Iris, you're lovely. But why is your hair only to your shoulders?"

I curled a finger in my hair self-consciously. "I had some of it spilled in honey… Well, technically, it was poured in my hair, but either way that's in the past. I'm just waiting for it to grow back out again."

Sympathy fell into her gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that. But anyway, how's this fiancé of yours?"

I shrugged slightly, my eyes falling to study the clasp of my suitcase. "I'd imagine he's a bit of a drinker- most Irishmen are. He owns a large estate of land, occupied by tenant farmers, and he's got dark hair and a thick accent. In truth, I've only met him a few times- it's my mother's idea, it's all very traditional."

Aunt Imogene smiled. "Well, perhaps that's the way it should be- he's clearly rich, hardworking, cultured, and generous. Are you excited to be marrying such a man?"

Again, I shrugged, but this time I was looking at the unique little town around me- fishermen, sheepherders, miners, bartenders, even a historian it seemed, pouring over notes and glancing back at a book. When I replied, it was offhand. "I feel a bit too young for marriage."

"You don't look too young."

I only shrugged.

We reached her house a short while later. It was a tiny cottage like most places here, and she pointed down the hall to the door at the end- my room- and instructed that I put away my things while she started on dinner. I walked down the hall listening to her declarations of all the fun things I'd do here during my stay. I dropped off my bag in the room and looked at it- a tiny cot with a blanket and pillow, only just big enough for me with my height being what it was, a dresser, wooden planks for flooring, plaster walls, and a small window viewing the foot-trail I'd spotted earlier- the one that went into the woods. I unpacked, placing my clothing in the drawers.

The time had come to open my suitcase. Hutch crawled out slowly and looked around, his brown tabby fur almost blending into the wooden planks. His green-yellow eyes, reminding me every time of a dragon's, scanned the world around him. One ear twitched and he sat down, curling his tail around his front paws as he looked at me.

"It's not much, but it's nice enough."

I scowled. "You should be thankful for her hospitality at all- most of my relatives won't accept my having a cat."

Hutch lifted his shoulders a bit and lowered them again. "Only because they can't hear me talk. They just hear meows."

"It isn't my fault they aren't peculiar," I muttered, laying back on the cot. It was stiff as a board, and the blanket seemed too thin to hold in any heat. I suppressed a groan- it would be a long stay. Hutch hopped onto the bed and began kneading the blanket, and then plopped down. He looked at me and blinked, his whiskers twitching.

"This is disappointing," he meowed. "I am trying to be grateful, but how could anything sleep on this? Even a human would have trouble enjoying it."

I sat up. "It's just too bad."

I heard a knock on the door and Aunt Imogene entered. Seeing Hutch, she offered a smile. "So long as he doesn't do his business on my floor, I'll feed him and he can stay here."

Hutch scoffed. "As if I could bring myself to be so undignified!"

"What a cute meow he has! Aw," Aunt Imogene commented, one hand on her chest. Hutch flattened his ears on his indignantly and hopped off the cot, ducking under it before I could stop him.

"S-sorry, he's just… A bit shy. He's not used to new people, and he'll need a while to adjust," I said in an apologetic tone. Aunt Imogene waved it off.

"Don't worry about it; come eat. I'm sure when I feed him, he'll warm up to me a bit."

The next morning I awoke earlier than my aunt, accustomed to being up at this hour while Cairnholm had different times than my home. I stretched and sat up, my back sore from the cot. I stood in the warm sleep-robe Aunt Imogene had loaned me the night before and twirled a bit, unaccustomed to such long dresses. Hutch crawled out from under the bed and stretched his forepaws, his jaw opening wide. He smacked his lips a bit and blinked up at me, offering a sleepy good morning.

"Good morning, Hutch. Come on- let's go walking," I said and he, grumbling, complied as he began his morning bath. I opened the drawers of the dresser and found a long-sleeve button-down, blue in color, with a longer skirt. I put them on with stockings and my shoes, and combed my fingers through my short hair. I looked out my window- the trail would be the first place I visited.

In very little time at all, Hutch and I had left and were heading out in the chilly, muggy weather. A few workers waved and I waved back, continuing on my way until I was well into the woods. I passed a shack filled with the baa of sheep, and passed by fields, trees, and cliffs, until I came to a crossing. A trail cut through the path.

One side of the trail led further into the forest on a downward slope toward the beach. The other side of it was more wooded. Should I try one of them? I wondered, and pondered the possibilities of either one. The one leading to the beach could lead to a treasure cove, or a mermaid- but thinking realistically, it likely just led to the beach and stopped. The other one carried more mystery, and more danger- a murderer out in the woods? A hermit's shack? A group of wild children, like in the story of Peter Pan? Perhaps a Wonderland sat down that trail. I looked at the trail I was following- it likely led to more farmland.

The decision was made.

I turned to my left and began to follow the trail deeper into the woods. Just as I started on it, however, rain began to fall, pitter-pattering on the forest leaves.

"Oh, rotten luck," Hutch commented and I sighed in agreement. But I wasn't turning back now. I continued down the path, my shoes worn from walking so much- as all of my shoes became- and my eyes still lit with adventure. Hutch had been enjoying himself, trotting back and forth on the path, ears perking at every sound of an animal. Now, though, he was only trying to avoid mud and puddles that were forming in the increasingly-fast-falling rain. We reached a swamp, littered with tussocks of grass poking out of the murky water.

"What do you think, Hutch? Should we brave it?"

The cat looked up at me with nervous yet unshaking eyes. "We've come this far- we might as well."

I stepped onto the first tussock of grass. There were enough to get through the swamp to the other side without getting your feet wet- I'd be alright. I stepped onto the next one and Hutch hopped onto the one I'd just been on, and just then two things happened simultaneously: a sudden crack of thunder turned into a rumble overhead, and my eyes fell on a distant box-shaped something across the swamp. It was maybe three hundred meters away, and as the rain began pelting down onto the swamp, dampening my hair and freezing me further, I decided to head toward it.

A gust of wind whipped through and I shouted to Hutch, "You see that?"

He followed my gaze and yowled over the wind, "Shall we head toward it?"

I nodded at him and he began bouncing from tussock to tussock as the thunder rumbled again and the sky darkened with the storm. I danced through the grassy patches, my feet occasionally slipping into the swamp and resulting in soaked feet and soaked hands as I scrambled for a tree limb to hold onto. The rain was falling faster than ever and I realized with a jolt of fear that the swamp was rising, covering the tussocks of grass, and Hutch was too far away for me to grab with ease.

"Hutch, move faster, the swamp is flooding!" I screamed over the wind. The storm had come on fast- and I was frightened. Would I ever be found if we died here? I shook the thoughts away and focused. I won't die today, I decided firmly, and began sprinting through the tussocks, ignoring the squelch of mud when I missed one. The wind pushed me and I nearly fell several times, but I finally reached the bank. The box-shaped thing, I now realized, was a tomb, leading down into the ground- a cairn. Hutch sat just inside it, shivering and soaked, his fur sticking out everywhere. His ears were flat and his eyes were wide. "Next time, we turn back when it starts to drizzle."

I stepped into the cairn with a small smile. "Ah, now where's your sense of adventure? Staying home is no fun."

He turned his wide eyes on me and shook his head. After a moment of silence, he said, "Iris, what is this that we're in? I can't recall learning the word for it."

I sat with my back against the edge of it. A tiny tunnel led down further- I'd have to crawl to get through it. I looked out at the flooding swamp and another gust of wind dashed through. "It's a cairn, Hutch. By definition, a cairn is a prehistoric burial mound made of stones. This goes deeper down, but I'm scared to go further, because if it floods, we'll be trapped."

Hutch's eyes darted from the stormy swamp to the lightless, dank tunnel. Howling wind hit him and his eyes focused in on the tunnel, his diamond-shaped pupils widening. "Anything's better than this wind."

With that he darted off and I lunged for him, but missed. "Hutch!"

"Not going back!" His voice echoed from further down the tunnel and with I clenched my jaw, following after him quickly. Perhaps if I was fast enough… But the cat had the advantage here. He could sprint, I could only crawl. With a sigh, I crawled after him, grimacing as I put my hands in the dirt. I crawled along, blindly heading into the darkness as the storm roared outside.

After what seemed like forever, I reached the bottom and Hutch was sniffing around. "Iris, I don't think this is just any random cairn."

"What do you mean?"

Hutch scuffed a bit in the darkness. "There's markings on the walls. After only a moment of sitting down here, it smelled different- there was more warmth. And listen- I can't hear the rain."

I paused and listened. "Hutch, we- we have to go back up."

Hutch mewed his agreement and we started back up the tunnel, this time with Hutch behind me. In short time, we reached the top- somehow it seemed to take less time going back up. At the top, it was definitely different: sunny warmth flooded into the cairn entrance.

"I was right- sometimes I really hate being right," the tabby at my feet meowed.