Chapter Two #2
“Whoa, I don’t know what you’re thinking about right now, Love, but I would suggest reeling it in a little bit before you set House on fire,” Coen says urgently, bringing me out of my thoughts and making me realize that my hands have lit up with flames.
I’m fairly certain my hair is on fire too.
Although I can't smell it, so it’s not actually burning in a way that I’m going to end up bald.
Thank fuck, some women look absolutely stunning bald, however, I can say with certainty that I wouldn’t, my head is far too lumpy. It’s kind of oddly shaped, too.
All I can say is it's in everyone's best interest if I keep my hair.
Just as I start to reel my magic in, I suddenly get doused with water, and I’m so shocked that the flames go out immediately. The water wouldn’t actually have had any effect on my magical flames. But I don’t think it was supposed to, it was just supposed to shock me enough to put the flames out.
“House!” I yell because I know full well that it was him.
The guys all stare at me for a moment, dripping wet and scowling indignantly, and then they all burst out laughing. Even Ethel has ditched the seriousness of the situation and is laughing at me.
“Sorry, Neith, it’s just your expression and everything,” Ransom chuckles, setting off the others again, and I narrow my eyes. He holds up his hands, “Sorry, sorry. Here.”
I suddenly find myself completely dry again, and I can’t help the smile that slips through at the sound of their laughter. It’s a nice sound.
“Thank you,” I reply primly, and then grin. Looking at a floating Ethel, I add, “Shall we go wherever you were taking us before I lit up like a Christmas tree, well, one that’s on fire anyway, and House soaked me with water.”
“Yes, dear, of course, let's continue,” Ethel replies, although the amusement in her voice is unmistakable.
Thankfully, everyone refocuses again, and we follow Ethel through the kitchen and down a hallway that I know leads to a dead end.
When we reach the end of it though, instead of a blank wall like I am used to seeing, there is a door. A very big and very heavy-looking door.
“There are some extremely powerful spells layered over that door,” Ransom says as he studies it closely.
“Really old ones as well, judging from the inscriptions on the door,” Raiden adds.
“Well, I’m not exactly a spring chicken,” Ethel retorts. She adds, “House, if you wouldn’t mind.”
There’s a slight rumbling around us, and the runes and inscriptions on the door and frame glow, before the door very slowly opens.
It turns out that I was right. The door is at least six inches thick and made of solid metal sandwiched between two dark wood pieces. Whatever it is that House and Ethel are guarding, it’s extremely important, and I would guess extremely dangerous as well.
The door opens up, and a stairwell lit by candlelight appears, leading down. I had absolutely no idea that this place even had a basement. I searched it quite extensively when I first came here, in order to make sure that there weren’t any lurkers about, and I definitely didn’t find a basement.
Having said that though, I also never found this door, and I’ve been down this hallway multiple times.
I guess House has kept it hidden. I wonder if the owners know that it exists. Of course, that is something that has occurred to me. We may have decided to stay at House indefinitely, but if the owners come back, then that’s going to be a really awkward conversation.
The only thing that is making me feel slightly better about the situation is that, in the whole time that I have been coming here, there has been no sign of anyone else coming here.
That, and Ethel is absolutely adamant that no one owns House.
Well, she says that House is mine, but I don’t think she means in the literal sense, and I am reasonably certain the argument that a talking skull told me that House was mine wouldn’t stand up in court.
I guess I can just cross that bridge if it becomes an issue. I really hope that it’s not going to become one though. If it does, I hope that the owners will accept my offer to buy it, because there is no way that I’m letting anyone else live in House.
It’s mine.
Refocusing on what’s happening right now and not future maybes, I follow the guys as they start to move.
None of us talk as we all cautiously make our way after Ethel, who floats ahead of us.
I can’t see the bottom. The staircase keeps winding deeper and deeper into the earth, and as we walk, I realize that the walls, ceiling, and even the steps themselves are all carved with protective and defensive spells and wards designed to keep whatever is down here safe.
Finally, we get to the bottom, and the room is only just big enough to fit us all inside.
Sitting, or rather floating in the middle of the room surrounded by various things that I have no interest in right now, is not something that I expected to see.
“Sup,” the very unexpected stranger greets us. When we just stare at him in absolute shock, he turns to look at Ethel and asks, “That is the greeting that the young ones use these days, Ethel Dear, is it not?”
“I don’t think it is, not for a while at least,” Ethel replies, although she sounds as unsure in her response as he does in asking the question.
“Ethel, are you keeping a supernatural prisoner in the basement?” I ask bluntly because how else am I supposed to ask that question?
“He’s not a prisoner here. It’s for his safety, and he’s not usually here,” Ethel replies somewhat exasperatedly.
“Ethel and House offered me protection. I’m being hunted, and let's just say if I were to be killed, all hell would break loose,” the stranger replies with a smile, and not seeming to be bothered by his circumstances at all.