by Rachel Xu
Directly across the hall from Auguste's study was a large parlor. They left the study then and entered it. Lily had peeked into this room a few times already over the past couple of days but hadn't yet had the chance to spend any time it. Next to a cozy fireplace was an LCD TV on a stand and two modern couches faced it. A credenza along one wall held a computer and printer. It was a comfortable, lived-in room with lots of books, magazines, boardgames, and DVDs scattered about. A pool table filled half the room and she figured this must be where everyone liked to gather for recreation. It was the most modern-looking room in the entire mansion.
Mike plunked down on a couch as Ms. Kline sat on the other. He hiked his booted feet up onto the coffee table in front of him and studied her face, noting the delicate cheekbones and pouty lips.
“So, what's the deal with the attic?” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “I went up there this morning—found this really weird trunk. Have you seen it?”
He frowned. “You were in the attic?”
A nod. “Ian caught me though—cut my visit short. I felt like a naughty little child.”
He let out a laugh. “Yeah, before Auguste hid the entrance, Ian wouldn't allow me within ten feet of the place, not even to repair the rain damage. He'd rather let the roof rot than allow anyone in there.”
“He told me to never go up there again.”
Mike dropped his feet back down to the floor with a thump and sat up straight, rubbing his palms together. “You got it easy then.” He crooked an eyebrow. “Last time he caught me poking around in there, he said I was fired.” A laugh. “Hannah talked him out of it, fortunately.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back.
Truth be told, his motives for being in the attic at that time had been less than pure. He wasn't about to tell Lily that though.
“Good thing,” she said, smiling. “I don't know what I'd do without you here.”
Heat trekked up his neck and into his cheeks. “Why d'you say that?”
She smiled again. “I feel safe around you.”
That got him going. He stood up and went to her, reaching for her hand. “Come—I want to show you something.”
To his pleasure, she didn't pull her hand away, so he kept on holding it as he led her out into the corridor.
No one was around but he lowered his voice nonetheless. “If you ever did find yourself in trouble, I think it would help if you knew about some good hiding spots.”
Her eyes lit with obvious delight. “Hiding spots? How exciting! Somewhere the wolves can't get me—or where I can hide from escapee mental patients.” She let out a musical laugh, and he grinned. She was so pretty.
“I was actually going to show you some the other night,” he whispered into her ear, folding her arm over his own and leading her down the hallway, “but Ian stopped me, as you know. It's why he cut the tour short. But—as you've already discovered on your own—there are many hidden passageways in this place. You can gain entrance to most of them from the paintings.”
When they reached the front entrance staircase, he reluctantly let go of her arm and they went upstairs single-file. He took her into his own room and stood in front of a landscape painting. It hung on the wall separating his bedroom from the one adjacent to it.
“Check this out.” He pressed his thumb to the bottom right-hand corner of the frame and a vertical opening appeared in the wall next to it. Unlike the entrance to the attic or the pool room, however, this opening was no more than a foot wide.
A waft of cold air flitted over them.
She stared at him wide-eyed, lips parted.
“Wait a sec,” he said. Heading to his desk, he fished a flashlight from the drawer, and returned to her side. “All right, let's go.” He slid sideways through the gap and she followed. Once inside, he pressed a waist-height button, closing the panel, and aimed the flashlight beam down the narrow tunnel in front of him. They could go either direction.
“These passageways run between the walls of most of the rooms on each floor,” he explained in a hushed tone as he began walking along the dusty floorboards. Lily followed closely behind. Electrical wires and outlets ran up the walls at various conjunctions.
“Is there anything stashed in these tunnels?” she asked, a thrill in her voice.
“Nope, I've been through them all. Just a bunch of empty tunnels; a few peep holes here and there though. But no worries, nothing in the washrooms or pool room or anything creepy like that.” He lowered his voice even more. “Hey, Lily—we should probably keep our voices low from now on. Don't want anyone to overhear. Ian would freak if he knew we were doing this.”
“Can you get lost in these passages?” she whispered.
“Not a chance. There're exits everywhere. As long as you know your way around the mansion, you shouldn't have any trouble getting out. Just look for the panel buttons.”
“Do the others know about them, too?”
“No idea. Ian sure does, but as far as Hannah and them goes—who knows. They've never talked to me about it.”
Mike had been through these tunnels dozens upon dozens of times over the past five years, searching in vain, wondering what their purpose was, yet never finding anything even remotely interesting.
They spent the next half hour or so exploring the narrow passageways, most of which were no more than two feet in diameter, whispering back and forth. Wooden ladders along the perimeters of the mansion enabled travel to upper and lower levels. On the basement level, there were no floorboards, just flat slabs of stone. When he'd first discovered the tunnels, he'd hoped to find hidden rooms in the basement, but other than the scuba equipment room, there'd been nothing to see besides the aquarium.
A bitter disappointment for him.
He took the time to show Lily how to access the scuba room, but they didn't go inside. Instead, they continued around the perimeter of the pool room, heading toward the east wing entrance. Down here, the stuffy air was damp with an occasional whiff of mildew, and the tunnels were wider than they were on the upper floors.
Behind him, Lily let out a yelp and fell forward into his back. He turned around, taking her into his arms, and straightened her up. “What happened?”
“I think I tripped over a rock or something.”
She leaned back against the rock-cut wall, and he shone the flashlight beam at her feet; squatting down to get a closer look.
A slab of stone was raised an inch above the others along one edge. He set the flashlight on the ground beside him and tugged on the slab. To his surprise, it lifted up toward him. It was heavy and round, about three feet long and two inches thick. He leaned it up against the wall beside him and picked up the flashlight again, aiming it at the ground where the slab had been removed.
His heartbeat quickened and he nearly hooted a shout of triumph.
Lily gasped but said nothing.
In the ground was a gaping hole with a metal ladder leading downward into the blackness below.
Chapter 12
Mike glanced up at Lily's shadowy form, willing himself to be calm. She was leaning her shoulder against the stone wall.
“What is it?” she said. “Did you know this was here?”
“I've never seen this before and I have no idea what it is.” His voice wavered. “You wait here a minute, Lily, and I'll check to make sure it's safe.”
He sat down, wedged the handle of the flashlight between his teeth, and swung his legs into the hole, placing his heels on the top ladder rung. Pleased to find it sturdy, he descended three rungs, testing each one and holding the floor with his forearms for support—and then turned around, gripped the side poles, and lowered the rest of his upper body into the hole.
A good six meters down, continuing to test each rung as he went, he began to wonder just how deep the abyss might be when his boots scuffed against a dirt floor.
Mike removed the flashlight from his mouth and turned around, sweeping the beam through the blackness before
him.
He was standing on the edge of what appeared to be a huge room, cylindrical and high tech—his flashlight ray unable to reach the far end of the room. He moved the beam back and forth, up and down; heart drumming in his chest and hands shaking with adrenaline. Conduits ran across the floors and up the walls, disappearing into rows of stainless steel vats. Turning, he searched the cement wall behind him and found an electrical panel mounted next to the ladder.
“Mike?” Lily called down to him from above, her voice bouncing off the walls. “Are you okay? Can I come down now?”
“Just gimme a sec,” he said, yanking open the metal box and flicking on an entire row of breakers.
The room came to life, its walls and ceilings completely whitewashed, and industrial lamps hanging from the high ceiling. The vats encircled the entirety of the room and he counted six in total; three on each side. A metal ladder ran up the front of each one. In the center of the room was a coroner's table, at least thrice the size of any he'd ever seen before. The air was indolent of formaldehyde.
Goosebumps tripped up his arms and down his back. What was all this? How could he have lived here for five full years without discovering it? Especially considering how thoroughly he'd searched these tunnels.
“You can come down now,” he shouted up to Lily, against his better judgment. “I think it's safe.” Ha. How should he know if it was safe? He had no clue what it even was, and by the looks of things, whoever was using this room was a force to be reckoned with. He glanced at the examination table again and shuddered.
While waiting for Lily to descend, he wandered toward the nearest vat on his right and climbed the ladder, hoping to get a look inside. It was tightly sealed, however, with an eight-digit combination pad in the center of the lid. He climbed back down and looked at Lily. She was huddling next to the ladder like a frightened child, arms crossed over her chest.
Deciding to ignore her for the moment, he scaled each ladder and found the same locking mechanism atop each one.
“What is this place?” she said in a squeak of a voice when he came near again.
“I'm not sure . . . ” No, that wouldn't do. Better to act like he had at least a small amount of inside information. “It's probably just the equipment necessary to run the aquarium,” he said, feigning confidence.
“Then why is it hidden in the depths of the earth?”
“Well, that I don't know.” He was agitated now. It would have been better to find this room on his own. Lily might prove to be a liability. At any rate, he would have to swear her to secrecy.
“Mike, we should go,” she said in a whisper, gaze darting to and fro. Her green eyes were limpid with what was likely fear. “Something feels wrong in this room. I want to leave.”
He paused his investigation of a stainless steel cabinet and looked in her direction, trying to mask his annoyance. If only she wasn't with him right now. He needed to find out what was in the vats.
She started climbing the ladder and he exhaled noisily. “All right, I'm coming.” He hurried to catch up, feeling responsible for her, and shut off the breakers. He aimed the flashlight beam upward so she could see where she was going, and followed her up the ladder. It was probably better this way, come to think of it. He'd take her back to safety, make sure he wasn't being followed, and then come right back.
He took her all the way up to her bedroom and let her in through a panel to the left of the fireplace. “Lily, do you mind telling Hannah I won't be here for lunch?” he asked.
“Don't tell me you're going back down to the dungeon.”
He threw on a merry smile and followed her into the bedroom. “No-no, of course not. I'll just ask Ian about it later. Like I said—it probably runs the aquarium. Regulates the growth of algae or something along those lines.”
She gave him a look that said she wasn't even remotely convinced.
“Do me a favor?” he said, forcing a chummy lilt into his voice. “Don't tell anyone about this. Please. I'll talk to Ian first and then let you know what he says about it, all right?”
She nodded. “Sure, Mike. No problem.”
They parted ways in the hallway and Lily went downstairs.
Mike opened his bedroom door and stopped short as a voice called to him from down the hall.
He cursed under his breath as Ian stepped out of the spare bedroom. Had he seen him leaving Lily's room a moment ago?
“What are you doing?” he asked, moving toward him; a dark look in his eyes.
Mike put his thumbs through his belt loops. “If you must know, I'm about to grab some tools to tinker with that finicky pipe in the kitchen.”
A slow nod.
Mike averted eye contact but tried to look casual. “Well, I'll see you around. How's that arm of yours doing?”
Ian clasped his hands together behind his back. “Quite well, thank you.” A thin line creased his forehead though his expression was deadpan.
Eager to get away, Mike offered a parting nod and slipped inside his room, shutting the door.
Man that guy could be creepy sometimes. And contrary to what he'd told Lily, he had no intention of asking Ian anything about the hidden room.
After Mike had gone into his room, Ian went to the end of the hall and opened the entranceway to the attic stairwell. He shut the panel behind himself and went up the staircase to the attic.
Switching on the overhead light, which was nothing but an exposed bulb hanging from a wire, he pushed aside the stacks of boxes that Lily hadn't already moved. He then stood with hands on his hips and stared down at the ancient trunk.
It was a Pandora's box to him—a beautiful, terrible thing.
He wished to destroy it, but couldn't be so selfish. He must continue to live a life of loneliness and isolation in order to protect the secrets it housed.
Somehow he was going to have to convince Lily to move out. The risk of her staying was too great—though his heart ached to think of her leaving. He was deliberately pushing her away with his erratic behavior when all he wanted to do was hold her close and never let go.
With a heavy sigh, he looked down at the scattered footprints on the dirty floor, and kicked the nearest stack of boxes, sending them toppling to the floor in a cloud of dust. Why did she have to poke around at everything?
It was lunch time now and the others would be waiting for him in the dining room now that he was making a habit of joining them. He didn't feel like eating though. His heart was weary from the burden it carried; draining his strength.
What had Mike and Lily been up to? He knew they'd been in her room together.
He'd never really trusted Mike, especially as the years had gone by. When Auguste initially hired the handyman, Ian had held to a glimmer of hope for a comrade. But it didn't pan out that way.
Mike was just as secretive as he.
All Ian wanted to do was lie down on the floorboards and never wake up.
With a final look at the mansion looming in the moonlight behind her, Lily hurried past the ebony gargoyle and into the forest.
At supper time, she'd strategically informed everyone that she was not feeling well and would be retiring early. Hannah seemed surprised and mentioned that Ian, who'd skipped dinner, had also retired early and was sleeping in the spare bed room; and she hoped the two of them weren't coming down with something. Lily verified Ian's whereabouts by softly knocking on his door. When he mumbled his presence, she told him she was going to bed and that if he wanted to talk to her about anything, she would see him in the morning at breakfast. He'd agreed in an uncaring, groggy tone and she hoped against hope that he would truly stay put.
Lily hurried down the blackened trail, ignoring the orb lights when they flicked on and zigzagged the path.
The woods were strangely silent; not a rustle in the undergrowth, not even a breeze. She'd brought along a flashlight this time and was glad she had. The lower lights weren't on in the workshop this time and the tree looked
like a massive black giant reaching spindly arms up to the starry sky.
She paused for a minute when she reached it, and listened for movement in the woods surrounding her. Absolute silence prevailed besides her own pounding heartbeat. If anyone was following her, they hadn't made a peep.
Too edgy to dawdle, she reached for the handle of the front door and tugged sharply, relieved to find it again unlocked. She switched on her flashlight and took the ladders to the top floor.
In the unnatural ray of the flashlight, the bizarre tropical bird peered at her sidelong through one emerald eye. The key was still fastened to its ankle.
She opened the cage and the bird narrowed its eye.
Her skin crawled, palms growing clammy.
Instinct suggested she turn around and leave—run, in fact.
But no. No, she mustn't. The key was too tantalizing. She had to know what was in that trunk.
Moving her hand toward the bird gingerly, for fear it might bite or try to escape, she untied the string with nimble fingers and removed the warm key, all the while keeping an eye on that beak. The bird made no inclination to move and watched her shrewdly, blinking once.
She tucked the key in her jean pocket and went to close the cage door.
“Out of my way.”
She gasped. “I didn't know you could talk—”
“I said: get-out-of-my-way.”
The bird glared at her, scowling—if that was even possible for a bird. No, she was reading too much into it. It was only the flashlight beam causing grotesque shadows and caricatures.