Chapter 37 #2
She whapped him on the back of his head, “Don’t call me that!”
I bolted for the door without another word, fear propelling me forward. My friends were right behind me. Typhon moved ahead to lead the way as Phyllis shouted directions, all pretenses of being quiet gone. Tarquinius wasn’t here, who else had it in them to detain us? Not Nikita.
We raced down the stairs, my heart thumping so heavily in my ears that I could hardly hear anything else. The corridor blurred as I pushed forward, fear sharpening my senses.
Thunder cracked, rattling the entire building as Typhon led us down winding hallways and staircases I’d never known existed. My pulse sped up with each step, anxiety twisting in my gut until I didn’t think it could beat any faster.
“Here. Through the back,” Phyllis called.
Typhon took a sharp right, leading us to a small exit door at the rear of the building.
The sound of rainfall blotted out everything else as he shoved it open, charging into the night.
Water poured down from above, thunder crashed, but the sudden storm was nothing compared to the terror roiling in my chest.
Opie was in danger. The same danger Lucinda had been facing.
The words reverberated in my head in time with my galloping heart.
We were soaked to the bone by the time we reached a copse of twisted, bare trees less than a mile behind the school.
“Past the trees,” Phyllis said from Ross’s back. “That’s where I’ve seen him go. I think there is a ward between us and whatever is on the other side. I did not have time to try and get through it.”
Before I could lift my hands, Typhon stripped away the glamor with a complex rune that slammed into the ward and tore through it, green fire eating up what had looked like just trees and brambles.
It was like watching paper burn, revealing a whole new image that you never expected on the other side.
Hidden by the glamor ward was a building that I couldn’t believe we’d never seen. A crumbling stone building less than twenty feet from the glamor – so close, we should have seen it clearly from any of the windows of Neverthorn, if not for the camouflage.
And worse? I’d seen it before, in my dream when I ran after Opie.
My own dreams had warned me about this place, and tied it to her – how though? I’d never seen it in person.
“How do we not know about this?” Gary asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said as I strode forward. “We deal with it now, like we’ve dealt with everything. Together.”
I swiped the water from my brow as we reached the door, staring at the glowing, bluish rune at its center.
“I should be able to break it . . .” I said.
“No, we don’t have time,” Typhon tugged me aside and spun a rune, the design of it making me think of the Draconell motto in Heathermoor.
With iron and fire.
A gout of deep green fire blasted from Typhon’s palm, consuming the door in flame. When it faded, the second ward was gone, leaving behind a threshold of soot-blackened stone and a charred door.
“I know this place.” He let out a pained hiss as he pressed his thumbs to his temples. “It’s right there, but I can’t see all the pieces. FUCK!”
Typhon lashed out and kicked the door open, the wounded wood shrieking, splitting the air. I wanted to tell him to be quiet but the time for quiet had passed. We needed speed no matter how loud we were.
Stepping through, the doorway led us into a dimly lit, narrow hall.
Lamps lined each side of the wall, but they revealed nothing but a bone-white shiplap, stretching as far as the eye could see – far longer than the exterior of the building suggested.
More doors dotted the sides of the hall every few feet, but the building was eerily silent, as if abandoned.
I whipped off a quick rune, enhancing my senses, but I still couldn’t hear anything except the rain hammering on the roof above. “One of these doors, or down the hall?” I called to Typhon, who still led the way.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I know we’re in the right place.” He stepped up to the nearest door.
“We should check the rooms,” Marina said. “Sweep the area.”
I was about to agree with her, when a rush of fear and shock ran from Gary to me.
He gasped. I spun as he skidded to a halt, his eyes filling with tears and his mouth hanging open in shock as he reached for the wall to support himself. Ross grabbed hold of him, propping him up.
“Harlow, it’s terrible.” Gary lifted a shaking hand to point down the hallway. “Something is calling to me from that way. But there is so much pain, it’s hard to believe they’re still alive.”
Dread closed over me and I swallowed hard. “An animal?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I . . . maybe it’s a spirit, like the rock?”
Even though his Quirk seemed tuned more to animals and the supernatural, I couldn’t help but fear the worst. That he was picking up on other things now too. Like people.
Please don’t be Opie. Please don’t be Opie.
Wicked fingers of terror tried to close over my throat.
I reached for him and drew him up next to me to lead, then broke into a jog, “Gary, what are they saying?”
“Not words,” he said. “Just screams and pain-filled, guttural noises.”
“Ummm, are we sure we should be rushing in like this?” Fable said as she ran after us. “Do you not think we maybe need a plan first?”
But she was talking to the air by the end of it. The rest of us were dashing down the shadowy corridor, Gary and I leading the way. But only a moment later she was with us, tucking in tightly behind me. The hallway didn’t allow for more than two abreast.
Ahead, the hallway twisted down a set of stairs and onto a small landing. A crumbling archway led down another set of stairs that were also dim, the lamps no longer lighting the way. Hallways went to the left and right as well. Three directions.
“Gary, where?” I asked.
“Down there,” He jabbed his finger toward the stairwell. I took a step, to peer down just as a waft of air rolled up to us.
Unwashed bodies, rank fear, sweat, the coppery tang of old blood . . . the stench grew with each step as we slowly made our way down the dark, narrow stairwell.
I started to shake, the smell triggering a not-so-distant memory.
This was the smell that had enveloped me during the Fae ritual – the place where Dwimmers were dying and left to rot.
I wanted to speak . . . to tell everyone that I had been here before.
But my vocal cords were frozen, and the horror rising inside me had me in a near-paralyzing panic.
Every shadow looked like a monster; every motion felt like an impending attack.
The blood roared in my ears like a tsunami, and I broke out in an icy sweat.
One foot in front of the other.
For Opie.
At the bottom of the stairs was a wooden-slat door. I paused with my hand on it, already knowing at least a portion of what we would see. The part of me that loved being Opie’s big sister wanted me to spare my friends seeing what I saw. But I couldn’t.
I pushed open the door, hinges squeaking. The darkness of the stairs gave way to an eerie, purple glow. I blinked several times, staring at the scene in front of me.
The others pushed out around me, more than a few gasps escaping them.
“What is that?” Ellie asked.
I had no idea what I was looking at.