by Sara Clancy
“Mina?” Ava called.
She could only groan in response.
“Stephen!” Ava yelled. “Mina fell!”
Footsteps thundered closer, the vibrations echoing through the floorboards.
“I’m all right.”
Pain sliced through her as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She grabbed her stomach, gasping breathlessly.
On all fours, Ava peered down over the rim of the drop-off. “Are you sure? That looked like it hurt.”
“I’m sure.”
“Sure enough that I should still worry? Or sure enough that I can start calling you an idiot?”
Mina braced her forearms on her knees. “Is there a third option?”
“What happened?” Stephen asked as he appeared along with a few of the other guests.
The pain was starting to ebb away, leaving her to feel the full force of her embarrassment.
“Did you see something?” someone asked with eager anticipation.
Debating if she should be honest or not, Mina tipped her face up, fake smile in place. With a sudden snap, the ground dropped out from under her. Her stomach lurched, cool air whipped at her skin, and the light around her rapidly faded. Dust exploded around her as her back struck a forgiving surface. It bowed under her weight with a flapping hiss. The first breath she managed to choke down was thick with grime. Dust coated her throat, making her choke and sputter. She curled into a tight ball while the landing pad deflated around her. In a short time, the hard floor settled against her hip, and she became aware of the voices calling to her.
“I’m all right!” The reassurance was past Mina’s lips before she thought to check.
Bloody nose. Growing bruises. Nothing’s broken. The good luck almost made her laugh. Sitting up, she checked her surroundings. The complete darkness of the room was disturbed only by the clear square of light seeping through the trap door. Too high to climb out, Mina thought as she studied it. How far did I fall?
“You look so tiny,” Ava called down. “How did you survive that?”
Mina shrugged. “An inflatable landing pad, I think. I can’t really see it, but it seems to work like the ones the fire departments use, only older.”
“A what?” Impressed against the light, Mina watched her friend turn on Stephen. “Is this a prank?”
“What? No!”
“Why the hell would you have a functional landing pad down there?” Ava demanded.
“Opera stages are all rigged with trap doors. It’s how they do their practical effects—”
“She fell from an orchestra pit!”
Mina groped through the shadows until she was able to find her backpack. It wasn’t hard to find her pull-up LED lantern amongst the items of her ghost hunting kit. It was large and sturdy and took up way too much space, but the glow it emitted more than made up for the inconvenience. Unlike a flashlight, the beam wasn’t restricted to a narrow radius. Sterile light flooded the room, shining off of abandoned musical instruments and chasing the shadows up the wall. It was almost clinical, and she felt the tension in her chest ease just a little. Everything’s easier with some clinical detachment. She slowly turned, prepared for another lunging ghost. Nothing came for her.
“Why did you want me here?” Mina whispered.
The argument was still raging above her, so it took a few tries for her to regain their attention.
“How do I get out?”
Stephen was too far away for her to make out his facial features, but Mina noticed the way he squirmed. Ava shoved him.
“Bernadette was notoriously hard to work for,” he began, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “She went through several contractors. In the end, she was the only one who knew the full layout and she didn’t think to write it all down.”
“Are you saying that you don’t know how to get her out?” Ava snarled on Mina’s behalf.
“I have ideas,” Stephen protested. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! Thousands of cleaners, tours, and performers have crossed the same floor she has without a problem! How were we to know it was there?”
Mina held the lantern aloft with one hand and drew her bag tight to her chest. Her ears rang with the memory of Basheba’s laughter. That’s not an accident, the phantom Basheba Bell mocked. The dead wanted you down here. Alive. Are you going to sit here and wait to see why? Mina was instantly on the move, struggling to get off of the remains of the deflated plastic. Lifting the lantern high above her head, she twisted around slowly, scanning the room in detail.
“Stephen?” she called.
When no response came, she glanced up to find the tour guide still arguing with Ava.
“Stephen!”
Her voice echoed over the wall. He jumped and looked down at her.
“I’m here.”
“You said there were hidden doors.”
“That’s right, we’ll get you out. Don’t worry.”
“There’re musical instruments down here,” Mina said. “Big, brass ones that look pretty heavy. So, this room has to be connected to a hallway by a hidden door.”
“Right,” Stephen called down.
Mina swept an arm out. “So, do you know which wall has the hidden door?”
“Yeah,” Stephen chirped, delighted to have a plan of action. “Let me think. Um, the right. No, my right. There’s a corridor that allowed the orchestra to avoid the crowds. It leads directly from the back entrance to up here. Get on that and you can’t get lost.”
“Right,” Mina nodded and scanned the exposed brick of the aged wall. “Are there any particular things I should be looking for?”
Stephen hesitated. “There’re instruments down there. That means the room might have been common knowledge at some point. Not one of the hidden ones!”
“Okay,” Mina pressed.
“Oh, right. Look for an octopus. Or a pearl embedded in the brickwork. Or dogs. She was a big fan of dogs.”
“Of course she was,” Mina muttered bitterly.
“What?” Ava asked. “Do you have any reception? Maybe I can call you?”
“I’m going to check the wall. Don’t call me yet, I need my hands.”
Mina hurried to her right, leaving behind the low murmur of the conversation. The light of her lantern danced across the wall as she wove her way through the discarded instruments. Shadows clustered around her legs until she felt like she was wading through dark water. After a few minutes of searching, she discovered a small etching of a running hound tucked away in the far corner. She had to put her body weight against it to work the stone back into the wall. A sharp clack made her scurry back. Her spine struck a tuba, toppling it over into a dozen other instruments to create a deafening crash.
“Mina?” Ava and Stephen called as one.
Choking on the airborne dust, Mina looked up to find that half of the wall had peeled back.
“I found the door! I’m heading out!”
“Willimina!” Ava yelled. “If you haven’t found your way in five minutes, you call me, okay?”
“And if I don’t have reception, I’ll blare some music so you guys can find me.”
“See, I set it up, you knock it down. That’s why we work as friends,” Ava said.
Mina agreed again to the five-minute deadline and slipped out into the hidden hallway that ran alongside the room. The air was dank and dark, tainted with the stench of mildew and dirt. Even the illumination from her lantern seemed weaker as she assessed her situation.
Both directions looked the same—a gaping hole that ended a few feet beyond the stark white glow of her lantern. This hallway is huge. It was wide enough that she could spread her arms out and not touch the walls, but just small enough that her claustrophobia could kick in. Still, she took a calming breath and turned to the right.
The exposed bricks were dry and barren. Shadows gathered in the mortar, creating a steady pattern that, for the briefest of seconds, would twist into something else. A human silhouette. A screaming face. While
the illusions always vanished when she turned to look at them straight on, the sense of not being alone lingered. The weight of eyes upon her made her walk faster.
The rhythmic melody of her footsteps faltered. A second pair of footfalls rushed up behind her. Mina spun, thrusting her lantern high in the air. Her movements were the only thing to stir the silence. She stared into the darkness lurking behind the light.
At first, it was the barest of illusions. But, as she watched, it seemed to thicken and multiply until it looked like a billion ebony insects were writhing before her. A noise started as a whisper, growing louder, closer. Bees. Fear crushed her like a vice. They’re bees!
The light swung wildly as her hands began to shake, casting waves of light over the walls. The glow never touched the mass of twitching darkness as it swept closer.
Mina spun around and fled. Sprinting down the hallway didn’t put any distance between her and the black swarm. The steady drone of bees drowned out her thundering footsteps and frantic breaths. Her heart ricocheted around her chest while a cold lump of dread formed in her throat.
Light glistened against the metal of a ladder embedded in the wall. She bolted past it only to skid to a stop when a dead-end emerged from the dim light. Unable to slow in time, she twisted her body so her shoulders absorbed the impact. The pain stunned her for a moment. Slumped against the wall, she looked up to see bees breaking from the shadows to fill the air.
Up. It was the only way left for her. Hurrying back to the ladder, she clutched the handle of the lantern between her teeth, and clambered up the ancient rails. Rust flaked off at her touch. Each bar rattled within the loose confines of the weathered stone. There wasn’t room left in her head to worry about falling, though. All of her focus was on escaping the living phobia pursuing her.
Higher and higher she climbed, unable to determine how far she was going. Existence was confined to the radius of the lantern’s glow. Rails emerged from the abyss only to disappear into it again; an endless loop that left her feeling trapped in time and space. Bees swarmed around her. Driving their needles into her flesh and seeking her eyes. Biting down hard on the plastic handle, Mina forced herself to ignore the pain and kept moving.
Before she could separate the trap door from the shadows, she had already smacked against it. Pain sparked in her neck and coursed down the length of her spine. She pounded at the wood, her vision blurring for a moment as the bees pierced her flesh. Their venom burned like acid. With one last, desperate swing of her arm, the trapdoor flew open. She scrambled through the gap and raked at her skin. Every swipe left her hands full of the writhing insects. Screaming around the lantern handle, she kicked wildly. The trapdoor slammed shut and everything stopped, the bees gone.
Gasping for air, she slumped against the wall, hot tears burning her cheeks. It’s too soon, her thoughts whimpered. Katrina’s Harvest starts tomorrow. She shouldn’t be able to do this now.
As she sobbed and trembled, she saw something move across the corner of her eyes. Twin rings of radiating crimson watched her. A deep, monstrous growl vibrated through the air. Every muscle in her body locked tight as she carefully skirted her eyes to the side. Another pair of glowing eyes joined the first. Then another. The canine growling took on a sharper edge, rolling around random snaps and snarls. The darkness peeled back to expose pure white fangs. Mina’s heart thudded hard against her ribs and she burst up.
She bounced off of the walls as she tried to get her footing back. The demonic hounds ran her down, effortlessly closing the distance as she bolted through the curving hallway.
There was no hope of outpacing them. She needed to find a place they couldn’t follow.
Locking her eyes onto an oncoming door, she pushed herself to go faster, reaching out with grasping hands. A solid weight hammered against her back and brought her down. The lantern scattered over the floor to knock against the still-closed door. She desperately reached toward it as she flung the other back to bat away the phantom hounds.
A sharp whistle changed everything. The three dogs became one steady pressure upon her back. Flickering firelight filled the hallway and the door now stood open before her. Her fingertips brushed against the weathered suede of old hiking boots. Choking on her rapid shallow breaths, she craned her neck up to meet Basheba’s pale eyes.
“Buck,” Basheba spoke clearly as her fine brow twisted up in confusion. “Release.”
Instantly, her giant Rottweiler slipped from Mina’s back, playfully yelping as he circled for a pat. Mina scrambled back to sit on her shins. With panicked, jerking twitches, she surveyed the area. Both ends of the hallway curved out of sight, dark but still. The flickering of Basheba’s torch and her own rapid breathing was all that stirred the silence. When she turned back, Buck had moved to sit beside the blonde. The combination of his humongous size and Basheba’s small stature meant that he could nuzzle his master’s shoulder with a bit of a stretch.
“What are you doing here?” Basheba asked.
“A ghost tour,” Mina whispered on reflex. As her fear faded, she turned to the blonde with a sharp gaze. “What are you doing here?”
“Tradition.” Basheba said the word swiftly as she closed the door behind her.
Mina caught a glimpse of something black staining Basheba’s hands. Before she could ask about it, Buck had begun to lick her fingertips clean.
“Because your ancestor built this place?” Mina ventured.
Basheba tilted her head, allowing her blonde hair to sweep over one slender shoulder.
“The tour guide,” she said as if she had solved a puzzle. “They’ve got to stop spreading rumors.”
“There’s no relation between you and Bernadette Allaway?”
“Oh, no, I’m her direct blood descendant,” Basheba said. After a tense pause, she rolled one hand lazily in the air. “My parents always said we were rovers. Wanderers, nomads, vagabonds. Call us what you will.”
“Are you quoting Metallica?”
Her surprised bark of laughter rolled down the empty hallways. “I’m gonna admit it, I didn’t think you’d get the reference.”
Is she trying to distract me? Mina’s frazzled mind almost pushed the notion aside. Basheba was brutally direct. And she’s never nervous. Mina had personally witnessed the blonde head off to fight murderous cult members with a smirk on her lips. Mina found her gaze pulled back to the door Basheba barred with her body.
“Anyway,” Basheba remarked, her sudden shrug making the fire flicker. “It’s still true, though. We never exactly had a brick and mortar home. Well, not one that wasn’t infested with demons. This is the closest we had.”
“Apart from your home in Alaska,” Mina corrected.
Basheba’s eyes somehow remained soft even as her gaze sharpened. “Yeah, well, after that whole thing with my uncle, child murderers, and brutal death, mom wasn’t too keen on the place anymore. She preferred it here.”
A ghost riddle maze built by a witch. Mina hid the thought behind what she hoped would pass as a curious smile.
“Shouldn’t you be at the barbeque by now?” Basheba cut in. “Or with your family? Or whatever it is that you Cranes do someplace other than here?”
Mina frowned. The barbeque was a yearly tradition. The only act of defiance that the four families would allow. Her father had only ever allowed her to attend one—when she was selected for the Harvest.
“That doesn’t start for another day,” Mina said.
“No, it’s already in full swing.”
Mina shook her head in confusion. “Dad left on the same day every year when the boxes were given.”
“Haven’t you checked the website?” Basheba cut in. “It’s just our two families sticking to the old timeline. The Winthrops and the Sewalls already have theirs.”
Ice formed in Mina’s stomach. “What?”
“Don’t worry. It wasn’t our boys,” Basheba replied with a noncommittal wave of her hand.
“It’s too soon.”
Basheba chuckled. “Yeah, Katrina’s in a snit.”
“I guess we did nothing,” Mina said, her shoulders slumping.
“Oh, we did something. Just not what we were intending.”
Mina considered that for a moment before a question bubbled from the back of her mind and blurted out of her mouth.
“What’s the tradition?”
The furrow of her brow served as Basheba’s ‘huh.’
“You said that you come here as a tradition,” Mina pressed. “I’m just curious. What’s the tradition?”
“Just a visit,” Basheba dismissed swiftly. “We always came here before the Harvest. I’m running a little late this year.”
“And you just wander around the stage tunnel?”
“Stage tunnel?” Basheba chuckled. “Oh, you are so lost. We’re in the attic.”
Mina glanced around the dimly lit hallway. There seemed to be a dozen narrow passages working their way through walls and between storage rooms. It seemed purposefully designed to be annoyingly inconvenient. Like a carnival funhouse. Yeah, Basheba’s ancestor definitely designed this place.
“Why are you in the attic?”
“Who’s going to stop me?” Basheba shot back.
Despite Mina’s lingering fears, both of what lurked behind her and what stood before her, she was overwhelmed with relief that she could just tell the truth. Still keeping only to the important points, Mina caught Basheba up on everything. As she spoke the last of it, she met Basheba’s gaze again to find barely suppressed fury.
“The dogs belong here,” she said. “Everything else. That’s Katrina.”
“It’s too soon.”
Basheba bared her teeth, snarling under her breath, “How dare that bitch set foot here.”
Noticing the change in demeanor, Buck growled, the low rumble making Basheba blindly reach out to pat him.
“Something’s changed,” Basheba whispered thoughtfully.
“Oh!” Mina’s spine straightened before she groaned.
“What?”