Ghosts were still there, standing, conversing, drifting between small groups. She saw the skulls, nestled into the light fixtures and along the top molding. Their eyeless sockets turned to watch her as she progressed through the room. For a moment she thought perhaps they’d lost their wings, but one dropped from the ceiling and stretched out as it flew through the room toward her, angling up at the last moment to take a new perch on a chandelier. She realized they all still had their wings; they were neatly tucked at their sides, waiting to be used.
She moved through the hall, taking care to go around the gatherings of ghosts. They paid her no mind, not interrupting their discussions to observe her. They’re whole now, she observed, remembering how parts of them had appeared eaten by the skulls when she and Rachel had entered the hall days ago. No chewed off limbs or flesh now. It’s as though they’ve regenerated.
At the end of the hall she found the stairway that led to the basement. She descended, remembering how she and Rachel had walked down the staircase; she also thought of Gloria’s story as a child, following Scray into the basement on a pretense.
Both of us tricked, she thought. Not this time, if I can help it.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she moved over the open-earth floor toward the spot where she had encountered Scray. He wasn’t there.
She turned to look around the room. There were small flashes of white hidden in the recesses of the walls; she stepped toward one, examining it.
It shifted, and as it moved, she determined its outline: a skull, tucked into the wall itself, only the surface of its face partially exposed.
She examined one to its right, and saw the same outline. The skulls were hiding in the walls, as though they were sleeping. She stepped back from the wall quietly, not wanting to wake them.
Scray! she whispered. I know you’re here. Show yourself!
She heard the rustling of feathers all around her as several of the skulls came to life, extracting themselves from the walls and stretching their wings. One flew at her, its jaw rapidly opening and closing, the teeth clashing together with a clicking sound. She raised her hands in a defensive stance, sure that the skull would land on her. Instead it went around her and landed on the ground, ceasing its clattering.
They’re awake now, she thought. No sense whispering.
Scray! she called.
She expected the skulls to all come alive, flying at her to restrain her as they had done before, but instead they kept to a quiet rustle.
In the ground ahead of her she saw an image form, under the earth. It rose until it was lying on the surface of the dirt floor.
You, it said. You smell solitary.
Right, Eliza replied. I didn’t bring any meat.
He rose from the ground, his face quickly alternating between the features Scray had in real life, and the skull that now represented what he had become. Giant black wings extended from his sides, almost filling the room, and he batted them once, raising dirt from the floor.
Eliza felt the wind from his movement, and held a hand up to her face to shield her eyes from the debris in the air.
I’m hungry, Scray said, walking toward her. I feel like chicken dinner. I told you if you returned without food, you’d be the meal.
Eliza stepped back from him. He was horrifying; in the dark of the basement, the figure moving toward her was the stuff of her worst, most bizarre nightmares, but she tried to ignore how he looked and press on with her purpose.
Back off! she said with as much conviction and courage as she could muster. It’s not the new moon yet. Dinner comes in a few days.
He stopped walking. She watched his face, trying to make sense of his features. It was difficult to do, as the image shifted to a skull rapidly, creating the effect of blending the two.
Why are you here? he asked, his lips moving, but not quite in sync with the words she heard.
I want to know what this is all about, Eliza replied. If I’m going to pick up Gloria’s role, I want to know what I’m doing, and why.
You’re going to bring us meat, so we can eat, Scray replied. That’s all there is to it.
I understand that part, Eliza said. Who made the gateways? It certainly wasn’t you.
A partner of mine, Scray replied. That’s all you need to know.
No, I need to know how and why they were made, Eliza said. I’m concerned they won’t work correctly for me. They don’t feel right.
Bring some meat through them, and we’ll see, Scray replied, a slight smile appearing on his face.
He’s enjoying this conversation, she thought. Probably doesn’t get much in the way of conversation these days.
No, I need them tweaked a little, Eliza said. They make me ill. They make me feel so sick, I think I’d rather not use them at all.
Oh, you’ll use them, Scray replied. You have no idea what sick is.
Why the gateways? She asked. Why all the rigmarole?
You already know why. The first one preserves and transforms the meat, and the second one finishes the transformation.
You didn’t build them, did you?
He smiled and turned from her. No.
It was a shaman, Eliza said. Who?
What does that matter?
I want to understand how they were built.
I don’t need you to understand how they were built, Scray replied, turning back to her. I only need you to use them as they were designed.
I’m telling you, they worked for Gloria, but I don’t think they’re going to work for me.
Well, Scray replied, you give them a shot with the new moon, and we’ll see about that. I want you to bring a whole body this first time, not pieces like Gloria used to bring. We’ve been famished for years now, and I intend to stage a huge feast upstairs, so all my followers can get their fill after so long fasting. A whole body, and pick someone fat and juicy.
I doubt the meat will transform, Eliza said. I’m telling you, there are issues with the gateways.
There’s nothing that can be done about that, Scray replied, becoming annoyed. They were built years ago by someone long gone.
By who?
I told you, a partner of mine.
His name? she asked.
Irrelevant.
Well, I suggest you make arrangements with a new shaman if you want dinner, Eliza said, because the existing ones aren’t going to work. I’m sure of it.
And I’m sure you’re full of shit, Scray replied. They were built by one of the most renown shamen in the country. He built them painstakingly, custom-designed to meet our needs.
I’m telling you, they’re not going to work! Eliza said, raising her voice. If you want dinner at the new moon, you need to get them fixed!
She turned and moved to the stairwell.
A whole body, my dear, Scray called after her. Not pieces. An entire body.
She reached the top of the stairs and moved into the hall, then passed through the walls of the structure, bypassing the entry hallway. Granger and Robert were waiting next to her as she dropped from the River.
“Are you OK?” Robert asked.
“Fine,” Eliza replied. “As I suspected, he’s not going to rip up his meal ticket.”
“Did you learn anything?” Granger asked.
“Not much,” Eliza replied. “He sleeps in the ground. He wasn’t forthcoming with anything we didn’t already know about the gateways. When I realized he wasn’t going to share any information, I decided to try a bluff.”
“A bluff?” Robert asked.
“Yeah, I told him the gateways weren’t going to work,” Eliza replied. “He claimed otherwise, but I’m hoping it will eat at him.”
“Sounds like a long shot,” Granger replied.
“No,” Eliza said, feeling something move inside her chest. “I think it might have worked. Something’s happening.”
“What?” Robert asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said, trying to examine the feelings inside her. The tug was t
here, but there was also a sense of something shifting. “I think he’s moving. I think I rattled him. He’s leaving the basement! Keep watching over me, alright? I’m going back in.”
“Back in?” Granger asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I want to see what he’s doing,” Eliza replied.
“Don’t get caught,” Robert said.
“I’ll try not to,” Eliza said, closing her eyes.
She fell once again into the River, leaving her body. Through the windows of the hall she could see Scray, now at ground level, moving through the large main room of the hall.
She entered the building from the side, following Scray from a distance. He was moving around the ghosts in the hall, walking directly toward the entrance hallway. He was moving with a purpose.
Hanging back as far as she dared, she hurried across the floor until she arrived at a wall, and stuck her head through just in time to see Scray passing through a closed door at the end of the long entryway hall.
She moved to follow him, approaching the doorway, when she heard the rustling of feathers above her. She looked up and saw skulls perched atop the door, staring down at her. As she reached for the door handle, they extended their wings, preparing to drop.
No way, she thought. They’re not going to let me through.
She backed out of the hallway and through the walls of the hall, stopping as she entered the evening air, turning to see Granger and Robert. Moving quickly around the side of the building, she rose through the air and attempted to enter the building at the spot where she imagined Scray had gone; she was stopped at the edge of the structure, unable to move farther.
She dropped from the River, feeling the sensation of her body return.
“He went through a door,” Eliza said. “I think my claims that the gateways weren’t working upset him, and he went to talk to someone.”
“Who?” Robert asked.
“The shaman?” Granger asked.
“John said he was long gone,” Eliza replied. “So did Scray. Gloria said there was someone else here. She called him the tall man.”
“The one who convinced her to kill Peter as a way to poison Scray?” Granger asked.
“Yes,” Eliza said. “I wonder if that’s who Scray is talking to now. Behind that door.”
“Do you want to go back inside and see?” Robert asked. “Try another way in?”
“Other ways in were blocked,” Eliza replied, “and the door is guarded. If I had made one more step toward it, the skulls would have been on me. I need a way to get past them and see what’s beyond that door.”
“If only we knew someone who was good at that kind of thing,” Granger said.
Eliza took his hint. Aceveda. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Eliza asked.
“She’s where I’d go,” Granger replied.
“Tonight?” Robert asked. “Right now?”
“She told me she never opens the door after dusk,” Eliza said, then quickly raised her hands over her mouth. “Whoops. Did I just say that? Sorry. Please don’t mention to her that I said that. She’d be so pissed.”
“Said what?” Granger replied. “We’ll make a trip into Chicago first thing tomorrow morning. What for, we don’t know, do we, son?”
“Nope, no idea,” Robert replied smiling, and they turned to walk back to the car parked at the red brick store.
Chapter Twelve
Eliza felt something knock her back, and she found herself pinwheeling her arms in an attempt to stay standing.
She looked down at the sidewalk; nothing there. I didn’t trip, she thought. What’s stopping me?
She tried another step forward, and found that her knee hit into something hard; something invisible above the sidewalk in front of her.
It’s her legend shelf! Eliza thought. It’s not letting me though!
She turned to walk back to the car. She knew Aceveda kept a top-level legend shelf in operation, protecting her property from any number of people and threats from the River, but it had never before stopped her from approaching Aceveda’s house.
It thinks I’m a threat, she thought as she walked. It detected the thing inside me.
Robert and Granger were parked several houses down from Aceveda’s; Eliza knew it would not do for them to park right in front of the house and bring any kind of attention to the place. Aceveda never desired attention.
Robert was rolling down his window as she approached. “What?” he asked.
“I need one of you to come with me,” she said.
“Go with you?” Robert asked. “I thought this was strictly a you-and-her thing.”
“It is, but I can’t get near her house,” Eliza replied. “Her legend shelf is blocking me.”
“Oh,” Robert replied, opening his door. “What do you want me to do?”
“Go up to the house and tell Alistair that I’m here to see her, and can’t get through.”
“Alistair?” Robert asked as he followed her back down the sidewalk.
“He’s the butler.”
Eliza walked to the point where she’d been stopped before, and Robert paused. “You really can’t go beyond this point?”
She raised an arm. It stopped as her wrist was caught against something invisible, bending her hand down.
“Wow,” he replied. “OK, I’ll be back.” Robert took a hesitant step forward, and when his leg passed through the invisible barrier without obstacle, he continued on, turning back briefly to shoot her a smile.
She smiled back, and waited while he went up to the house. He returned after a few minutes with a note, and handed it to her.
She took it from him and opened it.
Proceed to the forested area behind the house and approach from that side, she read. Pass through a small opening above the chopped tree.
P.S. This is highly irregular.
She folded the note and stuck it into her back pocket. “I’m to try a different approach,” she said.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Robert asked.
“No, I think you can probably go back to the car,” she sighed, turning to look for the area referenced in the note.
“Alright,” Robert replied, leaving her on the sidewalk.
She scanned the houses along the street. Each was large and set back from the street with an ample, hidden driveway. She felt she could probably sneak between any of them, but walked until she found what appeared to be an empty property. She used it to cross past the house line, well behind the homes that faced the street.
From there she worked her way back to Aceveda’s, crawling through brush and forest. Most of the homes had large, secure fences that buttressed up against the forest land, effectively walling off their backyards from the wild, and it was a little difficult to determine which house was which. Finally, she reached a section where a tall, ten foot brick wall completely blocked off any view of the house beyond.
This is it, she thought, and stepped forward. After walking ten feet toward the wall, she slammed face-first into the invisible barrier, and found herself pinwheeling her arms once again to stop herself from falling.
I feel like a dog with an invisible fence, she thought.
She removed the note from her back pocket and reread it quickly, then began a search for the chopped tree. There were remnants of a trunk in one section of the area; whatever tree had risen above it was long gone, leaving only a rotting stump.
She reached above the stump, and her hand hit the barrier once again. Moving her hand sideways, she located a hole in the barrier that allowed her arm to pass through. Using both her hands, she was able to block out the opening; it was no more than three feet wide by two feet tall.
“Oh, come on,” she muttered, while trying to figure out how to maneuver her body through the hole. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and then slid the upper half of herself through it, finding it odd to be suspended in midair. She shuffled her way through the small space for a couple of feet, and the invisible surfa
ce dropped out below her. She tumbled to the ground.
Righting herself, she turned to the large wall and approached it, looking for a way in. A small iron door was recessed in the brick around the far side. She knocked.
It opened, and she felt an arm reach out to pull her inside, the door quickly closing behind her.
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Aceveda. The woman was much shorter than her, and Eliza could smell the faint odor of tomato juice and vodka on her breath. Alistair, the butler, released his grip on her and stood to the side.
“I’ve got to talk to you,” Eliza said. “I need help.”
“You most certainly do indeed!” Aceveda replied, wheeling around on her heels. “Alistair, tea in the library, please.”
Alistair turned and disappeared. Eliza followed Aceveda, who led her to a fountain in the backyard’s garden. It was beautifully lined with ceramic tiles, looking very Italian. Aceveda reached into the water and removed a long, wet piece of thin plastic. She held it up. It looked like a soaked raincoat.
“Here, put this on,” she said, handing it to Eliza.
Eliza looked at the wet plastic in Aceveda’s hands.
“Immediately!” Aceveda yelled, and Eliza reached for it, taking it from her. She held it up; water was still running off it. Reluctantly she opened it up, which was a little difficult to do; it was clear plastic, and its wetness made it stick together.
“Come on, quickly now!” Aceveda urged.
Eliza slung the wet plastic around her back and pulled the collar around her neck, bracing for the cold from the water, expecting it to soak through her clothes quickly. Instead, she marveled as the plastic seemed to melt upon her, and the remaining water fell to the ground. Within seconds it was gone.
“Now, what is the meaning of this?” Aceveda repeated. “You’re obviously infected. Have we been slumming around?”
Eliza suddenly felt like a daughter being shamed by her mother for getting knocked up. “That’s what I need to talk to you about,” Eliza said. “It’s a long story.”
“That protection you just donned will last for a half hour,” Aceveda said, turning to walk back to the house, “so I hope it isn’t longer than that.”
The Haunting of Waverly Hall Page 11