by R. T. Lowe
They hurried by the first building, the spires and chimneys tilting lazily across the sagging bird grimed roofs and sub-roofs, the windows staring down at them, black and forlorn, as if they were the unwilling guardians of the building’s secrets. As Inverness loomed up, the ivy crawling over it reaching up to the windows on the third floor, Felix felt a chill on his skin. Odd, he thought, reflecting on why the sight of the building would give him goosebumps when he could comfortably navigate its darkened halls in the dead of night.
Sophia jumped off the walkway and darted through the threadbare grass for the front doors, bounding up the steps. Felix expected her to turn back as soon as she realized the doors were chained and padlocked. Instead, she planted her shoulder against the aged wood and pushed, and as the massive doors faded into the dimness of the vestibule, she called pleasantly over her shoulder, “You coming?”
Felix stayed on the path, surprised, staring up at Sophia as she disappeared inside. He’d hid out in Inverness after the battle with the Numbered Ones at the rock quarry and the front entry had been barred—or had it? Did he even look? He’d cut a path straight for the side door on the west end of the building and let himself in with the key Bill had given him. Weird, he thought, wondering what might have happened to the lock and whether the school could have removed it during winter break. Maybe. But why would they do that?
“Felix!” Sophia called down to him, her voice sounding distant as the echoes of his name escaped out through the open doors. “You coming? You’ve gotta see this!”
He took his time climbing up the steps and found Sophia in the lobby, spinning in a circle with her head thrown back, laughing. “Isn’t this place incredible!” she shouted excitedly, steadying herself against the banister, dizzy from all her spinning.
“It’s amazing!” Felix exclaimed, reminding himself to act like he’d never been here before. He gazed at the marble entry hall and the magnificent staircase leading to the upper floors, putting on a face to appear impressed. The light inside was gray and fading fast as dusk descended on the oldest building on campus. “Are we going up?” he asked.
Sophia was gone, already heading down the hall, apparently too excited to tell Felix where she was off to. “It’s down here,” she said, not stopping, passing along doors on either side.
Felix hurried after her, feet echoing hollowly on creaking floor boards, relieved they weren’t taking the stairs. If they ended up in the old library on the fourth floor, she would encounter a very strange sight. As his abilities had improved last semester, so too did the intensity of his training, and now the classical mill work and ornate Victorian chandeliers looked upon a cavernous room littered with an array of reading tables, doors and an assortment of other objects all torched, twisted and wrecked beyond repair. He couldn’t predict her reaction, but she would almost certainly have questions, and he didn’t need her intruding on his practice room. Bill, he was sure, would be apoplectic if she stumbled upon it.
Sophia had pulled up two doors down from the side entrance. “Come on!” She motioned for him to follow, disappearing into the room.
Felix poked his head in, cautiously, searching for her. The space was empty and he saw her at once, her shining eyes watching him from the far corner at a doorway that led to another hall.
“This way,” she said softly and he crossed the room, staying on her heels until she stopped abruptly and he bumped into her. “Check it out,” she said, moving aside.
Felix heard himself whisper, “Wow!” as he stared down at a staircase. Worn white down the middle from foot traffic, the wooden steps dropped at a perilously steep angle, disappearing into total darkness.
Sophia took her phone from her back pocket. “We’ll need our flashlights.” She touched the screen and her light came on, nodding at him to do the same. Then, side by side, using their phones to light their way, they began their twisting descent, winding round and round as if they were retreating down the steps of a castle spire.
“Creepy, right?” Sophia whispered, sounding breathless and excited.
Felix grunted in agreement. The serpentine stairs seemed to stretch to infinity, corkscrewing down, no end in sight. The plaster walls eventually gave way to stone, and a rich earthy scent filled the air, reminding him of the tunnels under St. Rose. Finally, they reached the bottom.
“We’ve gotta be fifty feet down, right?” Sophia said, the light from her screen casting a strange preternatural glow over her features.
“Maybe more.” The huge empty space looked nothing like the cluttered, equipment filled lower level of the mining facility in Ashfield Forest. The memory sent an icy shiver whispering over his scalp. Four days ago. He’d ventured into the woods with Bill to locate and destroy Lofton’s monsters last Sunday. Just four days ago. How was that possible? It felt like months had passed.
“Isn’t it cool?” Sophia said softly.
“We’re definitely way the hell down here,” Felix observed, feeling the weight of the earth’s crust pressing down on him. He turned to ask Sophia “what next?” but she was off again, skipping away toward the far side of the room. When he caught up to her, she had stopped in front of a wall made of mortar and large river stones, her flashlight focused on an oblong shaped stone that jutted out several inches beyond the end.
“See this?” she said, running her bare hand over it. “If you push it in, the floor opens up. Pull it toward you, and it closes.”
Felix looked down uncertainly at the floor under their feet. “Where?”
“There.” She nodded over to their left. “Ready?”
Felix had a funny feeling and it made him hesitate. It wasn’t anything bad, just a sense of… something, of being here before, maybe. His brow was slick with sweat and he felt like his body was running hot, though he figured it was probably just warmer down here than up above. Shrugging off the sensation to déjà vu and the change in temperature, he told her, “Go for it.”
Sophia gave it a push and stepped back, standing beside Felix, brushing up against him. He could feel the firmness of her muscles in her shoulders and arms. There was definitely an athlete under that jacket and he wondered why he’d never seen her at the gym. Nothing happened. Then there was a click from somewhere—inside a wall? beneath the floor?—and gears whirled into motion, stone grinding on stone. A large rectangular section of the floor shifted, shaking the room, spilling out a yawning column of light as it drew back and receded, finally vanishing under the wall. Stairs appeared before them. Dust stirred on the cobwebbed ceiling, sparkling in the bright white light, eddying down like tiny insects seeking sanctuary from the spiders lurking in the recesses of their silken patchwork city.
Felix pointed at the gaping hole in the floor, shaking his head. “You and your friend actually went down there? I’m impressed.” He was certain most kids would take one look and imagine a dark underworld or the gateway to hell and hightail it back to the spiral staircase. Then again, most kids wouldn’t even be down here.
“I know!” she replied gleefully, laughing, and slipped her phone into her pocket. “I’m awesome, right? What can I say? I love creepy stuff and this is the creepiest place ever. Let’s go!” She started off.
Felix stayed put. Something was still gnawing at him. He’d been considering the possibility Sophia knew about Woodrow’s Room, though it seemed unlikely. If she did, was she expecting reciprocity? ‘I show you and you show me?’ He would have to disappoint her because that would never happen. Woodrow’s was his favorite place when he needed solitude—better than St. Rose and the old library—even better than his dorm room at the end of last summer during two-a-days when only the football team was on campus.
She stopped and turned around. When she saw him standing there, a brief look of surprise fell over her features, then she pouted her lips in disappointment, and for a second, Felix thought she was going to break out in tears. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Felix answered quickly, mentally shaking off his jitters. He coul
dn’t turn around after coming this far so he might as well get it over with—and he had to hurry because he was running out of time. He was everyone’s ride back to campus. If he showed up after the hospital had discharged Caitlin he’d feel terrible and Allison would probably begin to worry and think something was wrong. He sighed inwardly and took a step. Sophia smiled at him and they started off again, feet scuffling on stone stairs that went straight down, one flight, the lights bright and hot and encased in the odd metal casings just like the ones in the tunnels on the other side of campus.
When they hopped off the final step, Sophia held up her hands then proceeded to bow, one arm in front, the other behind, proudly introducing the room to Felix. It was small (though not as compact as the ones leading to room 444 at Astoria Hall), encased in concrete, and plastic cables and pipes ran along the ceiling in the same direction. Otherwise, the space was completely barren. He meandered a bit, taking it all in, making note that there were bulbs on the ceiling and on the walls.
“So what do you think?” Sophia asked, stepping over to a wall and tracing her fingers along the ridges left by a trowel. She turned to Felix, radiating energy. “What do you suppose they did here?” She twirled in a circle and laughed loudly. “You think the founders practiced witchcraft? They say they had their hearts cut out in a secret room under St. Rose. But what if…what if they’re wrong about that. The Founder’s Photo was out in front of Inverness, right? So maybe this is where it all happened.” Her eyes were glistening. “Can you imagine? Maybe this is the room where the devil worshipers found those three witches and gutted them.” She spread out her arms, looking all around, and said darkly, “Maybe this is where Agatha, Constance and Lucinda met their Maker.”
“Maybe,” Felix said, watching her closely. Something was off. Sophia was practically trembling with ecstasy, like the room was giving her a contact high. “It’s really cool. Maybe we should, um, head back. I need to be somewhere at five.” He rotated his wrist to check his watch.
“One more thing!” Sophia said suddenly. “I need your opinion. This can’t be the only secret room on campus. This particular chamber and the stairs leading here must’ve been put in when Inverness went up. The lighting and electrical wiring is obviously much more recent, so the school had to be aware it was here when it built the underground network during World War Two. Which means, I think, this must connect to everything else. And if the rock up there”—she raised a finger to the ceiling—“opened up the staircase, there must be something down here that’ll open up a doorway to the tunnels. Don’t you think?”
“Seems plausible,” Felix said carefully.
“But I went over everything.” Sophia pushed out her lower lip, frowning theatrically. “There’s nothing here. Except for…those.” She lifted her eyes to the bulb on the wall beside her. “You think they could be levers? I tried yanking on them but I couldn’t get much leverage. Maybe, well, since you’re tall, maybe you could give it a try?” She gave him a sad look, eyes pleading. “Please.”
“All right,” Felix sighed after a moment’s pause, wondering with regret how he’d ended up here. It felt like he hadn’t made a conscious decision, as if his eyes were directed up at the night stars and his feet had carried him of their own volition.
She perked up immediately and shuffled aside, nodding eagerly for Felix to take her place.
He shot her a quick sideways glance, wishing he was outside breathing in the cold air. Something about Sophia reminded him of his meeting with the Order. That night, he’d felt uneasy and…what? What was it? He stepped in front of the light, squinting at the brightly burning bulb just above his head. From the tunnels beneath Astoria, he’d accessed room 444’s closet by tugging on a fixture exactly like this one—Sophia was more right than she realized. Mistrusted, Felix recalled. The Order hadn’t trusted him. Is that what he was feeling now? Why wouldn’t Sophia trust him? He raised a hand, then hesitated, a voice in his head telling him to stop, that he shouldn’t show her how to do it. You’re making a mistake. His fingers grew warm from the bulb’s heat. Why shouldn’t I show her? he asked himself. When was the last time his instincts had been right? What was the harm in—?
A sharp stinging pain flared above his collar and he glimpsed the movement of a shadow on the floor beside him. Slapping a hand to his neck, he spun around. Sophia loomed before him, backpedaling slowly, holding a syringe in her hand, plunger pressed down. “What did you do to me?” he tried to say, and the words slurred together. His tongue felt swollen and clumsy. The world seemed to tilt, the chamber whirling around him. Why would she do that? he wondered drunkenly, staring at the empty syringe, his mind foggy, his thoughts scattering like a school of fish at the approach of a hungry predator. She seems so nice. So innocent. He felt his legs buckle. The floor rushed up and he thudded down painlessly, his body stiff and numb. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to focus a thought, any thought, but the words themselves eluded him. Sophia approached cautiously and straddled him, her body eclipsing the ceiling lights as she put her hands to her thighs and leaned forward at the waist, bringing her face close to his. His eyes blurred. She smiled and her features seemed to stretch like a rubber mask, distorting and twisting into something hideous and terrifying. Her face pulled apart at the center, replicating itself, and mirroring images stared down at him, both laughing, both grotesque. Then they bled into each other and a single moon-shaped face swam before him, cackling with wild delight. Graying at the edges, his vision fluttered, rippling like waves across a reflecting pool, then the water dragged him under and the light retreated into the heavens, a distant beacon beyond his reach, until it too faded, and he was lost to the depths.
***
Sophia stood over him, admiring the results of her supreme cleverness. The hubris of these demons never ceased to amaze her. She’d realized long ago their strength was their weakness. Because they had ‘powers’ they felt invincible, and that made them careless. Especially the boys, she thought happily as she drew a curved blade, watching the light dance on the polished steel. The boys were always so eager to play the role of the chivalrous knight. It was almost too easy. Smile at them, flirt a little. Make them feel strong and brave. She gazed down at his chest and imagined what a wonderfully strong heart he must have in that big body of his. The demon’s heart—her prize—would soon be hers. The thought of it made her happier than she’d ever felt in her life.
She cocked an ear, thinking she may have heard something, a clicking sound, faint yet steady. She waited, listening. It grew louder, gradually, traveling down the stairs and rolling through the chamber, echoing off the walls, the distinct sound of footsteps. Sophia padded silently to the wall beside the stairs and pressed her back to the concrete, holding the blade out front in her fist, prepared to spill blood.
“He better be alive!” a girl’s voice called down. “If you’ve killed him, Sophia, I will personally bury you down here.”
Sophia relaxed and lowered her blade, recognizing the voice. “He’s alive!” she shouted and returned to Felix, on his back, eyes closed, unconscious for at least the next six hours. “What’s it to you?”
The clicking grew louder, abrasive in the closeness of the room, then there was silence and a shadow fell over Felix. “Put that away,” she ordered.
Sophia looked up at the girl, tall and blonde, carrying herself with a swagger, her cool blue eyes surveying the room with an air of entitlement. She stepped toward Felix, her black boots ringing on the concrete, and stared down at him. “Here,” she said and tossed Sophia a shoulder bag.
“What’s this?” Sophia put her knife away and started working the zipper.
The girl’s eyes went to the syringe in Sophia’s hand. “That’s not going to last. He heals quickly. Set your watch. Stick him every ten minutes. Got it? There’s a dozen tranquilizers in there. Believe me—you don’t want him waking up.” She glanced down, spending a moment to tap out a text on her phone before slipping it into the pocket of her leather j
acket. “We have plans for him,” she said cryptically.
“What’s this about, Harper?” Sophia demanded, her face flushed. “He’s mine! I get to kill him.”
“Please,” Harper replied with a sardonic smile. “This was my plan.” She brushed aside a long tendril of hair from her forehead. “No one’s going to kill him—not yet anyway.” She fixed her gaze on Felix. “You’re looking at the only person in the world who can kill Lofton Ashfield.”
“Him?” Sophia said, eyes going wide, staring down at Felix with newfound appreciation. “He’s the…Belus?”
Harper nodded. “He’s our salvation. So until Lofton’s dead, we’ll be leaving Felix’s heart exactly where it is.”
Uncertainty flashed across Sophia’s face. “So what do we do with him? Do we just let him go? Will he kill Lofton all on his—?”
“Calm down!” Harper interrupted. “He may be the Belus, but it seems fate is playing a little joke on us. Felix, you see, has a bit of an indecisive streak, and I’m afraid he may not embrace the fact he’s meant to destroy Lofton. The Order pitched itself to Felix the other day and he was…underwhelmed. Can’t blame him really—some Fortresses are total riffraff, and if we wanted them dead, they wouldn’t last the day. But Lofton, you probably noticed if you’re watching the news, already has the world by the balls. So if Felix does the unthinkable and joins him, the Order is fucked. And so are we. So what I’m proposing is we give fate a little nudge in the right direction.”
“How?”
“He needs to believe Lofton has taken the thing he cherishes most,” Harper told her.
“That would be…?” Sophia prompted, giving her an impatient look.
“His little hometown buddy, of course.” Harper sounded like she was describing a cherished but dimwitted pet.
“Enough with the riddles, Harper!” Sophia demanded, not interested in playing games. “What are you thinking?”