Mark of Mars

  MARK OF MARS

  BY

  JULIET ANDERSON

  This ebook is a work of fiction. Whilst references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters and incidents within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons. Any similarity is co-incidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  “Terrific. It looks like we’re joining the set of a horror film,” Jenna groaned, leaning back over the side of the small ferry boat to deposit the remains of her breakfast overboard. Who in their right minds crossed the North Sea in a tiny ferry boat in the middle of winter? Amelia passed her a wet-wipe. “It does look kind of creepy.” The thought of ghosts filled her with delight.

  Jenna glanced up at the imposing grey building dominating the headland in front of them. Its base was hidden by swirls of mist, its spires rising high into the sky giving it the most chilling of looks. Bad move. She felt bile rising from her stomach and retched. Next time she would pay for a helicopter to get to this godforsaken island. Huge black waves crashed across the bow of the tiny, rusty ferry as the Captain sailed quite unperturbed towards the island.

  “The place does look kind of Gothic, but I think the worst it has is loads of dusty books and artefacts,” Luke chuckled. The two girls did look so comical, with Jenna clinging to the side of the boat as though her life depended on it and Amelia’s long black hair blowing around wildly in the wind making her look like she was possessed.

  Jenna had been so excited about joining the McVale Institute but after this ferry trip from hell, she really hoped it was worth it. McVale was the leading institute in the world for ancient history, it outclassed elite establishments like Oxford and Cambridge. You didn’t apply to McVale like regular Universities, they invited you. And no-one in their right mind would turn down such fantastic opportunity. Now all she had to do was survive the crossing.

  The small ferry was still bobbing wildly as it pulled up to the small jetty. A couple of men dressed head to toe in bright yellow oilskins worked their magic to secure the boat and help the three passengers off.

  “Land at last,” Jenna moaned gratefully as she lugged her heavy suitcase to the waiting jeep.

  It took the jeep just a few minutes to climb the steep hill and pull into the courtyard of the McVale Institute. The rain lashed against the windows, obscuring any views of the house and the island. Hoods went back up as the students jumped out with their luggage and ran to the main entrance.

  The stone entrance hall was huge, with a high vaulted ceiling and sweeping central staircase. It looked like they had stepped into a museum; statues, artefacts and paintings filled the place. Jenna and her fellow students were quite awestruck.

  She spun around trying to take everything in, ignoring the puddle of water she was leaving on the floor. There was just so much to focus on her eyes could not stay still. “Is that painting a ….?” she pointed to the beautiful waterscape in front of her.

  “A Monet? It sure is,” answered Luke. “They have a collection here to rival any museum in the world.”

  “Something tells me you’ve been quite thorough with your research on this place,” Amelia gave him an enquiring look.

  Luke pulled a face. “Sorry, is it so obvious I’m nerd through and through?”

  Jenna laughed. “We’re all nerds, Luke. That’s why we’re here.”

  “This place must be an insurance nightmare,” Amelia murmured, her gaze still running over the collection.

  “Didn’t you notice the guns the guys on the dock were carrying? This place is heavily guarded.” Luke informed her.

  “And I just thought they were pleased to see me,” sighed Amelia dramatically.

  Jenna ran her hand over a statue of the Three Graces, one of her favourites; it surprised her it was in such pristine condition considering, if it were an original, it was a couple of thousand years old. The entrance hall had the wonderful smell of an old, musty museum, along with the inadequate heating system of an ancient house in the middle of the North Sea. She shivered and pulled her coat tight around her.

  A middle-aged woman appeared from one of the many doors making all three students jump. Her dark hair was scraped back into the severest of buns, her black suit was the very epitome of elegance. She looked nothing short of intimidating.

  “On behalf of the faculty, I would like to welcome you to the McVale Institute. My name is Miss Davidson, and I am in charge of student care.” Her broad Scottish accent echoed around the hall.

  “If you would like to follow me, I will take you to your rooms where you will have a brief spell to unpack before a tour of the facility and an introductory session with your tutor.” Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she headed towards the sweeping staircase at the end of the entrance hall.

  Jenna, Amelia and Luke obediently followed Miss Davidson up the stairs. Several flights of stairs. “Let me guess,” Amelia hissed, “first years get the attic?” as she struggled to drag her suitcase up the many flights.

  “Better than the basement. Bad things always happen in basements.” Jenna could not take her eyes off the paintings and tapestries that lined the walls, all of which she guessed were originals.

  Mrs Davidson stopped before another flight of stairs. “Mr Greenberg, could you remain here for a moment whilst I show the ladies to their rooms.” Jenna and Amelia climbed up a winding staircase which opened up into a wonderful turret, the centre of which was filled with soft chairs and sofas. "The two rooms on the right are taken. Your two rooms are on the left. I will leave you to settle in and will meet you back on the landing below in precisely thirty minutes.”

  “Something tells me it’s best to stay on the right side of that lady,” Amelia whispered as Miss Davidson disappeared from view.

  “She scares me,” Jenna responded. “Now let’s see what the rooms are like.” She threw open one of the doors and her jaw dropped to the ground. “Bloody hell, are you sure we’re in the right wing?”

  The bedroom looked like something out of a medieval film. Four poster bed, tapestries hanging from the walls, thick rich materials draping over the heavy stonework.

  “This sure beats any student accommodation I’ve seen before,” breathed Amelia. She opened the other door and the room was almost identical.

  “Any preference?”

  “Nope, both have a sea view.” And central heating, Jenna thought gratefully.

  Jenna flung open her suitcase and hurried to put her clothes away in the huge mahogany wardrobe. Her en-suite was the most wonderful old fashioned bathroom with black and white tiles and a fabulous stand-alone bath. She really had landed on her feet here. Her books quickly filled the shelf and her favourite silver photo frame was placed by the bed. She looked at the picture and was filled with instant sadness. Would she ever stop missing her parent
s? As a former classics student, her mother would have been so thrilled at her getting a place at this elite Institute. She picked the frame back up and hugged it; it didn’t alleviate her pain, nothing could. Even sea-sickness.

  “All done?” Amelia bounded into the room, attempting to contain her wind-swept, black hair in a scrunchie.

  “Yeah, not too much to unpack.”

  Amelia looked at the photo Jenna was still holding. “Missing home?”

  Jenna gave a small smile. “I don’t have one.” She put the photo back on the night stand. “My parents died in an accident four years ago. I’ve been living with Cruella DeVil’s older sister since then.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Amelia looked horrified. “That’s awful.”

  “Yep. But things can only look up,” Jenna gave a deep sigh. “Now let’s go find Scary Davidson.”

  Jenna and Amelia met Luke back on the landing just a few seconds before Miss Davidson materialised, or so it seemed.

  “I trust everyone is satisfied with their rooms?” Her question did not warrant a response.

  The small group were led back downstairs to the main entrance hall. “This is the East Wing.” She turned to her right and took them into a beautiful small hall. Its wood panelling was very ornate, a huge fireplace dominated the far wall and the room was lit by three very gothic chandeliers. “This is the main dining room. If your studies preclude you from attending any of the meal times, then cook will be able to send a tray to your room.”

  “Good, as there’s not much chance of getting Domino’s to deliver here,” Luke muttered, making the girls laugh.

  They continued on. The next room they came to almost took Jenna’s breath away. “The library. There is no need to sign books out as they do not leave the building.” Jenna had never seen such a collection of ancient texts, scrolls and writings all under one roof. The library was made up of several interconnecting rooms, with each period of history having its own room. She hastily cast her eye down the list – Greek, Roman, Mayan, Incan, Egyptian, Norse.

  Before she had time to look at any of them, Miss Davidson ushered the group down into the basement. “We have a small gymnasium and pool down here. Due to the ferocious tides, we do not recommend swimming in the sea. Next to this room is the laundry room which you can use whenever you need and beyond that is the weapons training room.”

  “Weapons training?” Luke thought he had misheard.

  “Yes, we have a selection of weapons from different periods of history. Students are given the opportunity to practice with them, if they so wish.”

  “Do you have any fencing swords?” Jenna piped up. It had been one of her favourite activities at school.

  “Yes, we have epées, foils and sabres, along with full sets of fencing whites.”

  “What’s your preference?” Luke asked Jenna.

  “Epée. Do I detect a challenge coming up?” she teased.

  “Most definitely.” Luke’s brown eyes twinkling mischievously.

  “Are there any further questions before l take you to meet your tutor?” Miss Davidson asked.

  All three shook their heads. Miss Davidson was far too terrifying. They followed her back to the main hall. “All classes take place in the West Wing. You will be starting with Ancient Rome.”

  The statues caught Jenna’s eye as she passed by. There was something so tactile about them, she loved how silky smooth the marble felt to her touch. Luke dragged her away before she got too distracted. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to touch the museum exhibits?” he sighed.

  Jenna poked her tongue out at him in response.

  The entrance to the west wing was through a very heavy oak door, which creaked as it opened. The hall inside was dark and dimly lit by uplighters that resembled burning torches. They shuffled along the corridor behind Miss Davidson until they came to a door simply marked ‘Roman studies’.

  “This is your classroom,” she announced opening the door. Jenna, Amelia and Luke filed in. “Professor Daniels will be with you in a moment.” Then she was gone.

  All three of them looked around the room in amazement. It seemed more like a living room than a classroom. There were sofas instead of chairs and the walls were lined with beautiful frescoes.

  They all jumped when the door swung open behind them. “Good morning, students. My name is Professor Daniels and I will be tutoring you in all areas of Ancient Rome.” The Professor seemed to be in his mid-forties and looked to be of Italian origin, modern of course. He indicated to the three to take a seat on the sofas.

  “I imagine you all have plenty of questions, I know I did when I first arrived here. You need to remember that the McVale Institute is not like any other. Of that, I can guarantee you,” he smiled knowingly as he took a seat.

  “Don’t you have classrooms?” Luke asked.

  “No, we prefer a more personal approach.” Professor Daniels looked up at the opening of the classroom door. “Ah, here’s cook with a welcome cup of coffee.”

  After passing round the cups, Professor Daniels continued. “Now I guess you’re wondering what the secret of our phenomenal success is and you will find out soon. But before I explain our methods, I need to give you a brief history lesson about McVale itself.

  “Scottish scientist Andrew McVale discovered this ancient ruin on Arula and the secret it holds back in 1946. He raised the finance to buy the tiny island and then set about building the Institute to protect and explore it. As you know, we only take a few students each year and each student has to meet very specific criteria, the most crucial of which is to be able to conceal the secret McVale holds.

  “What Andrew McVale found is going to change your lives forever. You will undoubtedly think I have lost my mind until you experience it for yourself.” He paused and took a deep breath. “It is rumoured that millennia ago travellers from another realm lived here for a while before moving on to another world. What they left behind was their method of travel, an ancient gateway that takes travellers through time. McVale harnessed their technology and set up a series of time tunnels, which let us go back and live history, so to speak.”

  Professor Daniels looked up from his coffee and was met with glazed looks. It was to be expected, he saw it with every intake of students. Half wonder, half disbelief.

  “By now I think you’re probably wondering how fast you can get off this island, but I would ask you to bear with me a short while. The best way for students to understand, is to see for themselves. So what I propose is a quick trip through the gateway to ancient Rome and if you still feel like taking the next boat back to the mainland, then I will personally man the ferry.”

  After what seemed like an age, Luke was the first to speak. “Are you seriously suggesting a trip back through time to Rome’s glory days?”

  “Humour me,” the Professor responded. “Now if you’d like to follow me, we need to make a quick stop via the wardrobe room. We can’t appear in ancient times dressed like this.”

  Jenna looked quizzically at the Professor. Mad as he sounded, she had the uneasy feeling he was not altogether joking. At any rate, she’d play along for a while to see what he was up to.

  “Fine, lead the way.” She jumped to her feet. “As long as it doesn’t involve any boats.”

  “No boats,” the Professor grinned.

  Amelia looked as her as if she was completely nuts. “What have we got to lose?” Jenna whispered. “Besides, I’m damned if I’m getting back on the puke-inducing ferry.”

  Amelia and Luke stood up and fell in behind her. They followed Professor Daniels down a series of winding corridors until they came to a door marked simply enough “Dressing Room.” The Professor knocked and entered. Sitting behind a small desk was a dark-haired girl who could only be a few years older than Jenna.

  “Morning Professor, new student induction?”

  “Yes, I thought a quick visit to Rome 100AD would do the trick.” He turned back to the students. “Sarah here is a third year student and s
pecialises in ancient costumes.”

  “Temple outfits?” Sarah queried.

  “Yes.”

  Sarah cast her eyes over both Jenna and Amelia. “Dress size 8 and 10?” They both nodded. She then looked at Luke “Height 5ft10?” He also nodded in response. Sarah disappeared through a door behind her and reappeared a few minutes later carrying a bundle of garments. “Temple handmaiden dresses for the ladies, temple priest for the gentleman.” She handed over the items. “The changing room is just to your right, rooms 8, 9 and 14 have been allocated to you. Please remove all, and I do mean ALL of your twenty-first century clothing, including jewellery.”

  Jenna headed first to the changing rooms. It was obviously an elaborate hoax they played on new students, so she would be a good sport and play along. She opened the louvered door to room 8 and stepped in. It was definitely unlike any other changing room she had been in. It had a large comfortable chair with a beautiful dressing table containing all manner of make-up and accessories. In the corner was a small wardrobe in which she could hang her clothes. She re-emerged a few minutes later, clothed head to toe as a temple handmaiden, the long white robe seemed to fit her perfectly. She was particularly surprised to see that the Professor has also changed into a temple priest costume.