by Lana Melyan
For how long?
Nate had filled him and Brian in on our plan to leave River Stones to get the map, but he hadn’t said where and how.
Only until tomorrow, if we’re successful.
Please, be careful with whatever you’re doing. Hope to see you soon.
I took off my jacket, dropped it on the chair, and lay down. Resting my head on the soft pillow, I closed my eyes and let myself slip into slumber.
I was standing in the dark woods next to the Family Tree when suddenly I was enclosed in a circle of fire. The spirits of my ancestors appeared behind it, their blurry faces alarmed. They were shouting, trying to tell me something. I could barely hear them, but I made out two words: They and hurry.
“Nicky.”
I heard Nate’s muffled voice. My eyes flew open and I sat up. Nate was staring at me, holding me by my arms.
“Oh, God,” I gasped.
“What? Nicky, what is it?”
I knew it was bad. I didn’t know why at first, but then I remembered.
“I had this dream before. And a few days after, the Order attacked the coven.”
“What was it? What did you see?”
“My ancestors. They were warning me. They . . . Nate, the Order is up to something. The spirits . . . they said hurry.”
Nate went to the sink and brought me a glass of water.
“We’re doing everything we can.” He started pacing. “The most important thing is the mausoleum. Chuck said they are trying to find it. Maybe after we put together the map, we should check on the location before going after their witches to improve the sword.”
“I don’t understand. Even if they find the mausoleum, they won’t be able to get in, they know that. So what’s the point?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Nate stopped. “If they’re looking for it, it means they have a plan. It’s obvious they were working on the problem all those years. What if they found another way to get Kenneth out?”
There was a knock on the door. Nate opened it, letting in Connie and Logan.
“The food is here,” said Connie as she and Logan set the boxes on the table. “What’s going on?” She pulled her eyebrows together as she looked at me.
I told them about the dream.
“Maybe it’s not about the tomb?” Logan glanced at Nate. “Maybe they’re looking for you, to get the books.”
“To do what?” asked Connie.
“To open the gates,” replied Nate. “Everything they need to know is in those books, but that’s the thing. None of them is powerful enough to perform that kind of magic. They need Kenneth.”
“I still don’t understand how it is possible to find the tomb without a map.” Connie shrugged. “It could be anywhere.”
“That tomb has been there for nearly a hundred and fifty years. After all the magic that had been performed to hide that place, and the magic used on Kenneth’s body, make it a hot spot. It emanates great magical energy,” explained Nate. “The Order knew where the body was hidden the first time, and they know it wouldn’t be taken too far from the previous place. They had enough time to check two or three states for the spot, with the help of magic, of course. And if they did find it, the question is, how were they planning to get in?”
“Nicky, are you sure it wasn’t just a dream?” asked Logan.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I nodded, the rage and horror surging through me in equal measure from the thought of what might happen. “We need to improve the sword as soon as possible.”
4
We arrived at the Allegheny Cemetery around midnight. Even though Nate chose a spot to get in close to Joseph’s grave, it took us about half an hour to walk there.
A thin layer of snow covered the ground and the top of the three-foot-tall, wide stone. It had two names on it: Joseph and Elisabeth Callahan.
“Great,” grunted Connie. “Now how do we know on which side to dig?”
“I know.” Nate gazed at her. “I was at the funeral. Both of them, actually.”
“Well,” she chortled. “I keep forgetting you’re ancient.”
“Says the girl who’s dating a hundred-year-old vampire.”
“You’re a hundred years old?” She threw a comically astonished glance at Logan. “God, what was I thinking?”
Smiling, I shook my head, then knelt down on the side of the grave.
“Come on. Let’s warm it up a little.” Nate and Connie joined me. The moment I pressed my hands to the ground, I felt it. The humming. “Yeah.” I looked at Nate. “You’re right. If we can feel the energy from this small capsule buried several feet under the ground, I can only imagine how powerful the energy is emanating from that tomb.”
Since Callahan and Cain were buried here, Connie and I wandered around looking for familiar names on the gravestones while Nate and Logan dug the grave. We found one that had a small stone with the name Oliver Callahan on it, but no dates.
“Nate, did we have an Oliver Callahan in our bloodline?” I asked when we returned.
“It was Joseph’s grandson. The kid was only four. Fell from the tree in their backyard.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah. His death was the reason Joseph’s son moved to New Orleans. His wife was devastated, and none of them could look at that backyard even after they cut down the tree.”
A couple of hours later, when the shovel hit the casket, Connie and I stared down into the grave. I handed my lamp to Nate.
“This is creepy,” said Connie, holding the second lamp above the hole.
It was, but my eyes still refused to look away. Logan got out of the hole, and Nate pulled open the lid. At the dark bottom of the casket, I saw the outlines of a skeleton. My stomach squeezed, and I felt a bit nauseous.
“Is it there?”
“Yeah. Found it.” Nate reached out and handed me the capsule.
I unscrewed the top. I made sure that the parchment was intact, then put the lid back and stuffed the capsule into my bag.
Filling up the grave took less time, and it was still dark and quiet when we stopped in front of the old crypt with the name Cain on it. I ran my eyes over the rusty bars of its doors. Plants stuck out from between the stone walls.
Nate pushed the door open, and the two of us walked inside first. He raised his hand and slightly turned his two fingers. About a dozen candles lit up on two windowsills covered in melted wax and two stands, one on each side of the wall in front of us. There were two nameplates above each other on one side and two on the other. I stopped, my eyes on the one with the name Josephine Cain.
Nate pulled a big hammer out of his bag and dropped the bag to the floor.
“Is this your father?” I looked at the nameplate beneath Josephine’s that said Edward Cain.
“Yeah,” Nate sighed. “And those are my grandparents.” He nodded to the left side.
Holding the hammer with both hands, he stepped closer to the wall.
“I’m sorry you have to do this,” I said quietly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes. “You better go outside. The shards . . . it’s not safe.”
I did as he said. Logan went inside, and Connie and I stood watching them through the open doors.
Nate took a deep breath, swung the hammer, and sent the first blow.
We gathered around the table as soon as we returned to the motel. I pulled all four pieces of parchment out of the capsules. Since they were all blank, I didn’t know how to place them, which sides to attach to each other, so I just put them down one after another.
The moment the last piece of parchment lay on the table, a golden lining appeared on the rims of all four of them, and they began rotating. When they stopped spinning, they clung together and merged, becoming one whole piece of parchment.
Which was still blank.
We stared at each other.
“Now what?” Connie’s eyes darted from me to Nate.
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Nate shrugged. “I don’t—”
The parchment shimmered, just like the bark on the Family Tree. A moment later, we saw its yellowish-brown surface turn green, indicating woods.
“Smoky Mountains,” we said in chorus, staring at the two golden words next to a small cross in between the trees.
“And here are the coordinates.” Nate pointed his finger at the numbers at the bottom of the parchment.
“The mausoleum is invisible.” Logan rubbed his chin. “Are the coordinates enough to find that place?”
“Yes. As I said, it’s a hot spot; we’ll sense the magical energy.”
A sudden thought crossed my mind. “Nate, give me your knife.”
Nate jerked the jackknife out of his pocket, opened the blade, and handed it over. Connie winced as I ran the blade across my palm. The blood dripped on the map. Holding my breath, I stared at the parchment while Nate grabbed my hand to heal it. A second later the map shimmered again, this time leaving behind a short text written in gold.
I’m glad you discovered my message.
The coordinates alone aren’t enough. Keep the map with you the whole time. The closer you get to the tomb, the more detailed the map will become.
The tomb is in a mausoleum which has two entrances. To get inside through its front door you’ll have to remove the veil. But to get in incognito, there’s another way. Its door is outside the veil, and the passage behind it has been dug through the ground.
If you’re a true Callahan, you’ll know how to open both doors. You don’t need to do anything to get out. This spell works one way, just like the one on the vault.
Be careful with Kenneth’s body, and be watchful. He’s only suffocated, and all spells can be broken.
Good luck.
Joseph Callahan.
A wave of anxiety ran through me, and my hand shook. I was the first Callahan to receive this message. The sense of responsibility suddenly magnified, and the weight of Callahan magic felt even heavier.
“All spells can be broken,” muttered Nate. “That’s an interesting warning.”
“Yeah. That sounds ominous.” I nodded.
“And what does he mean by if you’re a true Callahan? All Cain coven heads knew the tomb was sealed with Callahan blood.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, avoiding his eyes, but I could feel his stare on me.
“Hmm, that’s . . . well, as long as you know what he’s talking about. . . .” He sounded discouraged.
I knew how he felt. All these years he was sure that he knew how to open the mausoleum. He believed that the Callahan blood was the only way to break the spell. And now he discovered he’d been lied to his whole life. Of course, he felt betrayed.
“Nate, it’s not a big deal. I’m not going to open any of those doors without you. I would never do that, you know it.”
“Yeah.” He frowned.
“Joseph was the last one to enter the mausoleum, and he—”
“Don’t.” He raised his hand, stopping me. “You know what to do, and that’s good enough for me. I just wonder why Joseph would . . .” He shook his head. “It’s not important now.”
“So what’s the plan?” asked Logan.
“Nicky and I were thinking we would check out the location on our way to New Orleans. Just in case, to make sure that everything is in its place.” He rolled up the parchment and put it in one of the capsules. “We have a long ride ahead of us, so we better get some rest.”
“I’ll go freshen up.”
Logan and Connie left, and Nate headed to the bathroom the moment they closed the door behind them.
The first rays of sunlight snuck in through the window, and I shut the curtains before sinking, frustrated, onto the bed. I had a few minutes to make a decision: to tell or not to tell Nate the truth. The answer was easy. I would tell him how to open the door in a second if I was sure it wouldn’t lead to other questions. And if I answered all of them, it might put Nate in a stupor, and we didn’t have time for that.
“Nate, I don’t want to have secrets from you,” I said, staring at the ceiling when we were finally in bed.
“Nicky, I’ve already told you once, you should do what your father, well, and the rest of the Callahan, expected you to do. Stop worrying.”
“It’s not because of Dad, and it’s not a big secret. It’s just if I tell you that, I have to tell you the rest. And I don’t think this is the best time for it.” I sat up. I wanted to see his face. “You know how much I trust you.” I leaned over him, and his black eyes looked into mine. “But this isn’t about me, and this isn’t about trust, this is—”
He pulled me closer to his chest and pressed his lips against mine.
“Stop it.” He kissed me again. “You’re right, I’m disappointed. And I’m angry. But it has nothing to do with you. I spent my whole life fighting this war, and I’m angry with all of them for not trusting me, for leaving me in the dark.”
“But because I . . . it makes me just like them.”
“Don’t ever think that again. None of this is your fault. You didn’t choose any of this. You’re not responsible for the mess we created, for the mess we all left behind for you to sort out.”
My fingers glided up his cheekbones and sank into his hair.
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips.
He turned me on my back. “And just like that, my anger is gone. That’s all I need to know.” He took my hand and pressed it to his hammering heart. “Do you feel this? It’s about to jump out every time I hear you say it, every time you touch me, every morning when I wake up and see you lying next to me.” His warm hand moved down my body, and his lips brushed against mine. “I love you.”
5
We took off from Pittsburgh after lunchtime, and six hours later, we stopped at another motel to spend the night.
“We still have a couple of hours drive ahead of us to reach the mountains,” said Nate. “To make it in and out of the woods during the sunlight, we need to take off early. So turn your alarms on.”
“For?” Connie spread her hands.
“Six. That should be early enough.”
I hadn’t planned on hiking, and I didn’t have a backpack. So when we hit the road the next morning, I asked Nate to stop at a gas station. I bought a backpack and stuffed in it my messenger bag. We also bought some snacks and a couple extra bottles of water.
The fog along the Smoky Mountains gap slowed us down a little, but it cleared up as soon as we got a bit higher. We drove as close to the coordinates on the map as the road allowed us, and then parked the car next to a small wooden bridge and continued on foot.
For about half an hour, we walked down a narrow path, then we turned off the track. We hiked for another half an hour, stumbling on the stones and roots.
“Let’s have a break,” said Nate as Connie stumbled again.
We dropped off our backpacks and settled on the ground.
“We got lucky with the weather.” I unzipped my jacket and leaned against a tree.
“I wish it was summer,” said Connie, sipping some water. “It would be much prettier here.”
“Look at the bright side,” said Nate. He pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack and handed it to me. “No tourists.”
I rummaged in my bag and fished out the capsule.
“Let’s see,” I said, getting out the scroll.
Logan and Connie drew closer.
“Oh my God,” I gasped as I unrolled the parchment. “Look.” I pointed at the golden circle where the cross was supposed to be. “And this.” I put my finger next to a red dot.
The four of us stared at the map.
“This red dot––it’s you, Nicky,” said Nate.
“Holy moly.” Connie shook her head. “What kind of magic is that? How did he do this?”
“It’s still all about the blood,” said Nate. “You’re connected to each spell they’ve used. This is the first time the Callahan system actually makes s
ense.”
“You always knew it had a meaning.” I beamed at him. “You just hated to see me cut myself.” I planted a kiss on his cheek.
Nate cracked a smile.
“What’s this?” Logan pointed at another small circle that appeared not far from the big one.
“That must be the second entrance.” I touched the circle with the tip of my finger, and it shimmered with a short word. Cave.
Connie and I gasped again.
“So the second door is in a cave,” said Nate.
Excited, I touched the big circle to see if it would work again. It did. The word Tomb appeared on the spot.
“It’s better than Google Maps,” chuckled Logan.
“We’re not too far,” said Nate. “About twenty/thirty minutes away.”
Encouraged, we cut our break short.
The walking was easier now, since we didn’t climb up but went deeper into the woods on the same level. Nearly half an hour later, we came out to a big open space.
“I think it’s here,” said Nate.
I pulled out the map.
“Guys, look,” I gasped again, and the three of them stared at the parchment.
The spot where before was the circle with the word Tomb on it was now much bigger, and it showed the same clearing in front of us. On its edge was a stone building, like a crypt, only bigger, with wooden doors.
“Oh my God,” Connie shrieked. “That’s this same place.”
“Yeah,” I beamed. “And here’s the mausoleum.” I poked my finger into the crypt on the map.
“Where?” Nate narrowed his eyes.
“Here,” I pointed again, my eyes darting from one to another.
Connie and Logan looked back at me, their eyebrows raised.
“We can’t see it, Nicky,” said Nate.
“You can’t?”
“It’s probably like your family crest. Joseph must’ve used the same spell on this map.”
“Okay.” I nodded, then pointed my finger at the edge of the clearing. “It’s right there. Like a crypt. Only it’s bigger.”
“Really?” Connie’s searching look moved all over the place.