Chapter 20 Olivier #2
The decrepit house rose from the forest floor like the skeleton of a fallen beast, its gabled roofs piled with powdered snow.
It stood at the center of a clearing, surrounded by thick pine trees.
Various turrets jutted out from the sides of the house, an array of arched windows adorning the front.
But even from where Olivier stood, he could tell that some of the windows were cracked, splintered glass trailing up the surface like a spiderweb.
Broken panels dangled from the structure, chunks of dark wood scattered on top of the snow in haphazard piles.
“Let me guess…” Dina muttered. “We’re supposed to enter the creepy, abandoned building?”
Catherine stared down at the map in her hands, a slight furrow in her brow. “Looks like it.”
There wasn’t a single part of Olivier that relished the idea of setting foot inside the building.
Something about it made his stomach churn with apprehension.
It was as if a rope had been fastened around him and somebody was furiously tugging him in the opposite direction, desperate to get him as far away from the building as humanly possible.
Or maybe it was simply that all he could think about was the feeling of Emilio’s lips on his.
Analisa took a step closer to the house, eyes trained on the highest turret.
She seemed perplexed by something, or perhaps slightly disturbed.
She closed her eyes, reaching out her free hand, thin silver threads trickling from her fingers.
They sizzled in the air, gently swaying in the breeze before retracting into her palms.
“There is a heaviness here.” Her eyelids fluttered back open. “A presence.”
Dina pointed an accusatory finger at the healer. “See!”
Catherine rolled her eyes, ushering the group forward.
“I don’t care if the damn thing is haunted,” she muttered, hiking toward the front steps of the house.
“We are going in there and getting the next key.” There was no dissuading Catherine, that much was clear.
And once the rest of the group followed her, Olivier knew there was no turning back.
He stepped forward, Emilio by his side. Masika caught up with them, matching their pace. She wedged herself between them, wrapping her arms around their shoulders.
“Well.” Masika cleared her throat, biting back a smile. “I’m sure you two are feeling a bit…distracted.”
Olivier chuckled. “Subtle.”
Emilio flushed.
“Hey!” Masika chuckled. “You know I’m your number one fan. I’ve been rooting for you guys from the beginning. Ever since we became friends.”
“Friends, huh?” Olivier’s gaze slid to her, a teasing smirk on his lips.
“Apologies,” Masika muttered with mock sincerity. “I meant unfortunate acquaintances.”
Emilio rolled his eyes. “I think we can call each other friends now.”
Masika nudged him playfully with her elbow. “But it doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”
“Come on!” Catherine called ahead of the group, impatiently tapping her foot as she placed her hand upon the front door. “No time for chitchat. Let’s do this.”
Benji growled in Analisa’s arms, beady red eyes locked on the door.
“Even the dog doesn’t like it here,” mumbled Dina, clearly displeased.
Catherine rolled her eyes and opened the door, leading the group inside.
The entryway was small and narrow, barely large enough to fit all six of them.
Dark emerald walls surrounded them on all sides, the floorboards beneath their feet old and brittle.
A few dust-speckled paintings adorned the walls, some ripped in half, as if someone had taken a knife to them and slashed with all their might.
On the other side of the room was a single door. An inscription was carved over it, the words etched upon the wood in an arch.
Catherine stepped forward and read the words out loud. “The truth is the way through.”
Dina groaned. “Please don’t tell me it’s another goddamn riddle.”
As the words left Dina’s lips, something in the inscription began to change. A deep golden glow emanated from the carving, and then another set of letters formed in the wall, etched below the first line as if with an invisible blade.
Catherine Clarke…What Are You Most Afraid Of?
Olivier’s chest tightened. He glanced around the group in bewilderment, though his eyes snagged on Catherine. She had gone impossibly still, her face pallid as her eyes traced the words over and over.
“How the hell does it know your name?” Dina asked warily.
Catherine swallowed. She gave a weak shake of her head. “I…I don’t know.”
“It’s not a riddle,” Emilio muttered softly beneath his breath.
He placed himself next to Catherine, pointing up at the words.
“Look at the original inscription: The truth is the way through. This isn’t about deciphering some hidden meaning.
It’s about exposing the truth.” He looked around the group, a slight tremor in his bottom lip.
“It’s about divulging our deepest secrets. ”
Silence fell upon the foyer, though there was a question threaded through it, something all of them were clearly thinking. Ultimately, it was Masika who dared to speak the question out loud.
“What happens if we lie?”
Analisa hummed, staring up at the inscription with that faraway look in her eyes. “If the truth is the way through…then lies will keep us trapped.”
Dina groaned. “I do not like the sound of that.”
“It’s fine,” Catherine snapped, craning her neck from side to side.
“We just…speak the truth. Should be easy enough.” She cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“I…I’m most afraid of…” Her voice trailed off.
Olivier’s entire body tensed, as if bracing for impact, but then Catherine let out a resigned sigh and whispered, “I’m most afraid of disappointing the ones I love. ”
Silence stretched by. A collective breath held.
And then the door in front of them creaked open, unveiling another room.
Catherine let out a low huff of air, shoulders slumping in relief, though Olivier didn’t miss the way her eyes momentarily drifted to Masika…
the charged moment sparking between them.
But it didn’t last long. Dina let out a dramatic sigh and sauntered into the next room, the tension between Catherine and Masika instantly dissolving as the rest of the group followed suit.
The next room wasn’t anything special. It looked exactly like the one they had just left behind, though perhaps even smaller. There was, however, a different inscription etched upon the next door.
Analisa Cardenas…What Are You Most Afraid Of?
“Looks like it’s forcing us to take turns,” Dina grumbled.
Olivier’s chest tightened. He desperately hoped that wasn’t the case. The last thing he wanted to do was speak his fears out loud…to expose his darkest secrets. The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine.
Analisa stepped forward and mulled the words over for a prolonged moment. She blinked up at the inscription, a dazed look in her eyes.
“I am most afraid of”—she gnawed on the inside of her cheek before continuing—“the knowledge that there are some pains, some losses, which I cannot fix. Some wounds that cannot be mended by a healer’s hand.”
A tense beat of silence. A brief moment of doubt.
And then the door was opening, leading them into the next room.
It went on like this for the next few minutes.
A name written. A fear spoken out loud. Dina’s admission had rattled Olivier, mainly because he hadn’t been expecting it.
He didn’t know the silver-haired girl well, but given her self-assured, brusque demeanor, he’d expected her fear to be something banal, if not obvious.
But it appeared there was more to the silver-haired girl than Olivier had originally thought.
“I fear…” Dina had whispered, hands nervously fidgeting with her daggers. “I fear the person I could have become, had I not left the Demien Order to join the Resistance. The person I almost became.”
Masika went up next, though truthfully, her fear hadn’t surprised Olivier all that much. He understood Masika well, had grown familiar with her anxious tendencies.
“My biggest fear is my own mind,” Masika had admitted with a slight wince. “I’m afraid of losing myself to the anxiety…and never resurfacing.” As the words left her lips, Olivier reached out his hand and gave her an affirming squeeze on the wrist, which Masika returned with a thankful smile.
The following room was dedicated to Emilio.
Olivier held his breath. Tension pinched Emilio’s shoulders as he read the words out loud.
Emilio Córdova…What Are You Most Afraid Of?
Emilio let out a low chuckle. “How much time do we have?”
Olivier dug his nails into the palms of his hands, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Emilio. He knew this was Emilio’s personal form of hell, and he wished, more than anything, that there was a way to relieve him from any further torment.
But before Olivier could even begin to figure out how he might do that, Emilio straightened his shoulders and let out a steadying breath. He kept his chin high and eyes trained on the door as he began to speak.