by Kirk, A
Instead, I was in a dark alcove — alone — yanking on one of Luna’s black hoodie jackets, stuffing my mass of red curls into one of Lucian’s baseball caps, and peeking out into the hall to make sure the coast was clear.
A strong floral aroma wafted through the air as several girls and boys in shiny red capes carried a multitude of flowers through the halls. As part of a fundraiser for next month’s Spring Fling students could buy their choice of a single bloom, which Mom’s shop provided at a substantial discount, and have them delivered to those they wanted to ask to the dance, or at least request a reserved spot on their dance card. Business had been especially booming this week.
Staying hunched to keep from towering over the rest, I pulled the hood over my red curls and waded into the throng of students with their chattering hum of white noise and tried to remain inconspicuous. On the third floor hallway, I moved along the wall of windows, face averted toward the outdoors to help avoid eye contact and keep from being noticed.
Through the endless panes of glittering glass, fog lapped over the sprawling lawns of the extensive grounds. White swans glided across ponds, towering trees dotted the manicured landscape, blossoms sprouted through the earth, and forest rimmed the far edges.
Despite the serene beauty, my insides twitched because any moment now Rose could ride out of the woods on the blanket of mist, like some ethereal being coming to collect his bounty. Me. Although that might be preferable to the anxious anticipation of doom currently gurgling my gut.
I was double-jittery because I was in the process of ditching Physics and hiding from the Hex Boys. Third period was the one class I didn’t share with any of them, and therefore, the one class I could ditch and not be followed, allowing me to do some Nancy Drewing on my own regarding the sweaty, crumpled paper in my pocket.
The yellowed-with-age parchment document Rose had given me, the one he claimed could blow my Divinicus cover with the boys, was a map. Faded ink sketched out a basic floor plan of a room which, using my mad deduction skills, I’d deduced was the library in this mansion that Flint built.
Well, mad deduction skills along with the fact that someone — probably Rose — had used fresh ink and a flowing curly script to write on top of the page, “Flint’s Library.”
Anyway, on the map, one of the walls was marked with a weird doodle. It was a single line which curved at either end into two distinct spirals. The spiral on one end was made of straight lines connected at sharp angles. Very geometric, it reminded me of the Greek key motif I remembered from art class. The other spiral was the typical curly, smooth flowing curve.
Didn’t know what it meant, but Flint’s old library was also the high school’s current library and that’s where I was headed for a bit of sleuthing. On my own.
“Blake!”
I froze at Ayden’s voice.
“Hey!” Some kids directly behind me stumbled and bumped my shoulder ducking around to avoid a full collision. “Watch out,” they grumbled.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
I kept my head down, but watched Blake who was headed toward me. He paused and turned, waiting for Ayden to catch up. But suddenly Ayden stopped, a look of fury flashed, and he shoved his way across the hall, ignoring all protests, too focused on…
Uh-oh. It was the guy who had offered me his “parking” services last night.
Out of the flow of bodies, Ayden grabbed him two-fisted by the shirt, and after a violent swing around that knocked a couple of people aside, he slammed the guy’s back up against the wall. The guy’s feet dangled off the floor. His eyes bugged. Ayden dug a forearm into his throat, pinning him like a bug in a science project.
A collective gasp and a couple of squeals echoed through the hallway as the crowd backed away in a semi-circle. Then there was silence but for guy’s choking noises.
Ayden got right in the guy’s face and spoke in harsh, guttural tones. “You think last night was funny?”
The guy clawed at Ayden’s arm. “What the hell are you talk—”
“Don’t speak.” Ayden shoved harder into the guy’s throat. There were desperate gurgling noises and the guy’s face looked red enough to burst. “Don’t you ever say anything to my girlfriend ever again. Or so help me—”
“Dude!” Blake cut through the crowd like a bull through tall grass, smiling easily at everyone before placing a thick hand on Ayden’s shoulder and moving so he could get in Ayden’s line of sight. “You got the wrong guy. It was some other jerk that mouthed off at Aurora. I’m sure this fine gentleman doesn’t remember a thing about the conversation last night. Just ask Tristan.”
That subtle reminder that Tristan had altered the kid’s memory of last night’s incident, along with Blake’s firm shoulder shake, broke Ayden from his ferocity. He released his forearm and stepped back. The guy dropped.
Blake caught him and smoothed his shirt along with the situation. “Just a case of mistaken identity. Ayden is very sorry. Right, Ayden?” Ayden nodded curtly. “And so am I. So no harm, no foul. We’re good?”
The guy rubbed this throat and looked like he might say something harsh, but after a glance at Ayden who still seemed ready to blow, and then cranking his head back to take in the full size of Blake, he shrugged.
“Yeah, we’re cool.”
“Awesome.” Blake slapped the guy’s shoulder and led Ayden away.
The crowd, murmuring softly, parted for the guys to pass, then flowed again, drama over, and it took me a few moments to realize Ayden and Blake were heading toward me once more. I spun around and scurried in the other direction, but I was bucking the tide of students, and it hindered my speed. I heard Ayden’s voice getting closer.
“Thanks but I don’t have time to explain. I’m headed to her Physics class right now. Tristan got me assigned as the T.A. until this Rose thing is over, but make sure you’re available.”
Great. Even if I gave him the slip, once he got to my class he’d go on Red Alert to come and find me. Already seriously worked up, he’d be on a tear. My skin itched. Felt like cockroaches skittered up my spine. I didn’t have much time.
Ayden was saying, “When you take Aurora home after school—”
Since when was Blake taking me home?
“—do not mention where I am.”
“But I don’t know where you are.”
“Exactly.”
“Hi Blake. Hi Ayden.”
“Hello, ladies.” I heard the smile in Blake’s voice. “Gotcha on my dance card for the Spring Fling. Don’t know how I’ll survive until then.” The girls giggled, and after they passed, Blake nearly did too. So macho. “Dude, I love our new reps. Luna and Danica really did us a solid when they talked us up after we saved them at the concert hall. People — girls — actually talk to me now. Don’t ruin it by setting some dude on fire. So where did you say you were going after school?”
“I didn’t.”
“Come on, what could keep you from a hot girl except…I’ve got it. You’re seeing another woman.”
“What?!” Ayden did a lot of sputtering.
“Holy crap, look at your face. It is another woman! Aren’t you the play-ah.”
I tripped. Nearly fell on my face.
“Blake,” Ayden hissed, “that isn’t it.”
“Then why do you look so guilty? It explains why you’ve been so on edge.”
“I don’t— Argh! You need to shut up. I’ll tell you everything once I finish off with…my…”
“Other woman?”
“I will kill you.”
“You can try. What’s her name?”
“If you even mention this to Aurora, I will…”
Ayden’s voice faded off as I slipped around a corner and fought the urge to run, but there was no way I could shove through this mob before the guys came into view.
It was hard to breathe. Other woman? Then why defend my honor? Could he really be seeing someone else?
Don’t think about that now. I needed a way out.
&nbs
p; Several utility closets were along this hall. I pushed through the crowd toward the nearest one, risked a glance behind me — no Ayden and Blake — grasped the long curved handle, shoved down and…
Thumped into the door, my cheek squished flat. It was locked. I jammed the handle up and down a few times — just because I wasn’t frustrated enough — then headed to the next closet, then the next. But each was locked.
As sweat beaded on my forehead, my peripheral vision picked up Blake’s huge form lumbering around the corner. I turned and barreled forward. The next door was an old, wooden original fixture adorned with wrought iron hinges and thick bands of black iron wrapped horizontally across. With little hope, I grabbed the handle.
It didn’t budge. Of course.
I leaned my boiling forehead against one of the cold bands of metal, waiting for a brilliant next move to enter my brain.
The door shuddered with a low hum. The handle quivered in my palm. I heard the metallic clicks and grinds of gears turning, and just when I was ready to jump back, the handle gave way, the door opened, and I fell into a black pit.
Chapter Nineteen
Okay, not a pit. Just a small, circular windowless alcove in one of the many towers and turrets of the Flint mansion. I hit the stone floor with a painful blow to my elbow then tumbled sideways. Then the door swung shut, and I was left in pitch black.
I scrambled to my feet using my hands on the rough, uneven stone of the walls to steady my progress, then made my way to the door. I breathed with relief when the handle opened easily and I peeked out. No one in the hallway seemed to have noticed my exit. I eased the door shut and waited for the boys to pass.
The darkness was absolute. I blinked, eyes aching for a shred of light. A rushing sound whispered around the room. I cocked my head. Wind? But I didn’t feel a breeze.
The sound grew louder, building into a mechanical whirring, as if a large machine was lumbering to life after a long hibernation. Gears clicked in a slow rhythm then picked up the pace. The floor rumbled beneath my feet. An oily scent drifted from above, wilting the floral aroma that had followed me in.
Lights of various colors flickered to my left. Just above the door handle, like new buds bursting through the earth, a series of blinking buttons, knobs, and switches appeared on a metal panel which all emerged from within the solid wood of the door.
I sucked in a breath and retreated, back pressed against the wall, heart jumping into double-time.
“Ohhh, no.”
The glow from the controls lit up the room. The stone walls seemed to blur. I rubbed my eyes but instead of clearing my vision, I watched the stone shimmer out of existence, replaced by large rectangular sheets of metal. Dark bronze. Shiny. Heavy bolts rimmed the seams holding the pieces together.
I tensed. Someone in the wall stared at me. A black-hooded figure. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed and looking like they were ready to freak out and attack—
Oh. Right. My brain finally calculated the obvious. It was my own reflection in the glimmering walls.
“Please enter destination request.” A woman’s voice echoed against the metal-lined space.
I ducked, covering my head with my arms, looking for the threat.
Nothing happened. Other than I had the heartbeat of a canary, and my vital organs had turned to mush.
“Please enter destination request,” she droned.
My gaze roamed the empty room. “How about the heck outta Dodge.”
My head jerked back to the door where, just beyond the hinges, with a loud metallic clankity-clank-clank, a wall of one-inch wide metal lattice rolled out from the side and started covering the door.
Caging me in.
The lattice traveled smoothly. Was halfway across the door.
I launched my body up, came down with my full weight on the handle, felt it resist, thought I might break the whole thing off. The lattice rolled into my back, pressing hard.
I braced my foot on the slim edge of the door frame and used my full weight to push back, struggling against the metal threatening to shut me off from freedom.
The lattice kept coming, forcing me forward. I banged on the door.
“Help!”
There was less than eighteen inches before the moving wall would shut me off completely from the door. I was losing ground. And I’d be losing a hand if I didn’t let go of the handle which in the next few sec—
The handle dropped, the door opened, and I spurted through.
Careening into another body and bringing us both down.
Chapter Twenty
Light from the stained glass windows stretched a rainbow of colors throughout the elaborate acres of books in Flint’s cavernous library. It was as impressive as the rest of his estate with high ceilings, ornately carved wood bookcases, polished and shiny, many built into the walls and reaching two stories. Spiral staircases led to narrow walkways along the higher level. Heavy carpets blanketed the hardwood floors, muffling students’ footsteps and any attempt to break the reverent silence.
There were open areas with tables for studying, some casual seating arrangements with comfy chairs and sofas, and several cubicles that housed computers. The place smelled lemony. Surfaces gleamed.
The librarian, Mrs. Caviezel, took her job very seriously, running it like a military contingent, keeping it shipshape using her dogged determination and an army of student volunteers.
Of which my sister Luna was now one. A fact she wanted to keep from my parents — wouldn’t tell me why — and the reason she’d agreed to help me find the wall marked with the spirals that was on the parchment.
She’d been looking for me when I fell out of the alcove and knocked her over. Couldn’t explain what I’d been doing. Was it one of Flint’s gizmos? So much for being turned off. But she was more interested in complaining that I damaged her dangly ear cuff.
Once at the library, she led me deep into the labyrinth of books to a remote room way in the back with no windows. The dark interior had a small rectangular table and desk lamp which provided little illumination.
“This is the section with local info,” Luna told me. “All the books are about Gossamer Falls’ history and stuff about Flint. Did you know this place was an insane asylum?” She gave a shiver and lowered her voice. “Rumor has it they never got rid of the patient wards in the basements and all the vile torture chamber treatment machines. That’s why the lower levels are off limits and locked down tight.” She spoke in a haunting, supernatural wail. “Ghosts of the crazies are still trapped down there, wandering secret passageways, fated to relive their torment over and over, and in the dead of night their screams of horror still reverberate through the very foundation.”
“Yeah, right.” She loves drama.
“You have no imagination.” Luna rolled her eyes, then pulled a set of keys from her pocket. “I wonder if my library keys would open up the basements.”
After she scurried away, I studied the wall marked on Rose’s map. It was about fifteen feet long and ten feet high and had a solidly built-in bookcase.
The wall behind it was made of stone. I ran my hand over all the wooden shelves and then the spines of the thick volumes, many made of smooth leather and all very dusty. I was scanning for…not sure what…the double spiral? But I came up empty.
Something flashed bright white at the corner of my eye, to my right and high up. I jumped and whirled. But nothing was there.
“See,” I said to no one, “my imagination’s working just fine.” I scratched my head and studied the shelves. “What am I supposed to find?”
The books didn’t answer. And my spidey senses weren’t tingling. So I squatted down, pushed up my sleeves, and started pulling out books from the bottom shelf, moving methodically up to the next shelf, hoping one of the texts turned out to be a lever that opened a secret passageway.
Hey, you never know.
I climbed the shelves to reach the higher levels which made the book pulling slow and awkward because I had to si
multaneously hang on. But I kept at it and eventually, behind the books on one of the top shelves, something caught my eye. An etching in the stone wall itself.
A double spiral. Like the one drawn on the parchment.
I smiled. “Bingo.”
I scooted closer, moved books aside, and reached out, hovering my hand over the spirals. Something tingled on my palm. I thought I saw the etching move. Weird. Then I felt some kind of heat which didn’t make sense. Not that much did these days. I reached my index finger closer and—
“I just left the principal’s office.”
Matthias stormed in.
My toe slipped off the bottom shelf. I grabbed one edge and hooked my elbow on another to keep from falling. At best, it was precarious.
The Aussie had his back to me, pacing, a phone pressed against his ear.
I held my breath and tried to hold tight, hoping he’d disappear.
No such luck.
He inhaled deep and lowered his voice. “She’s fine but…yes, the training worked but now it’s a big spectacle and…I don’t know, but…uh-huh…right…” His shoulders relaxed and his voice softened. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Layers of polish on the wood made it slick, which was why my elbow was slipping toward the edge. I tried to scoot it back, squirming as quietly as possible, muscles straining, but for every inch I gained I lost two, and finally, I lost altogether.
I fell with an utter lack of grace. Matthias, on the other hand, in one smooth motion grabbed a book, turned, and flung it. He couldn’t have had time to aim, yet the thick hardcover jettisoned straight for my head, ready to conk me into oblivion. His only mistake was not anticipating my stealth maneuver of falling, so it sailed over my skull and crashed into the bookcase as my butt hit the carpet. Not as cushy as I would’ve liked.