A Myth to the Night

by Cora Choi

  Chapter 18: The Fifth Roommate

  I continued to hold Ankou’s black, wide-rimmed hat and scythe all the way to Stauros Hall. Max, J.P., Irving, and I were headed toward the open doors of the old abbey when we heard a shout behind us. All four of us turned toward the courtyard, where we heard Drev’s voice.

  “Hey, over here!” said Drev, standing with Pamina. I was surprised to see that he had made the effort to wear a costume. Although he sported only a black nineteenth-century waistcoat, I still gave him credit. Pamina, on the other hand, looked like she had received a helping hand from the Chinese goddess Tin Hau. The red silk robe that fell beneath her feet and the gold threads braided into her hair made her stand out from the crowd. The four of us had begun walking over to them, but I took a moment to pause in my tracks and admire her from a distance.

  “That’s our other roommate,” Irving explained to me. On our walk over from the Forgotten Cemetery, we had begun to get acquainted. He had told me the story of how the four of them had ended up in the cellar. Although I already knew the details, I pretended that I was discovering the information for the first time.

  “That girl over there is his girlfriend,” said Irving. “We haven’t met her yet. Isn’t she pretty?”

  “Hmm, not bad,” I replied, pretending to crane my neck to get a better view of Pamina.

  “He’s a lucky bastard,” chuckled J.P. “And he knows it. That’s why he never brings her around, just keeps her to himself.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “We’ve seen Pamina only in passing,” explained Max.

  “And only at night,” added J.P.

  “We thought he was making her up for a while,” said Irving. “I mean, we never saw her in any of our classes or at lunch in the dining halls. And she’s never with him during the day.”

  “She’s a mistress of the night who appears only with the moon,” Max murmured whimsically, as though he were beginning a fairy tale.

  “Shhh!” said Irving, as we approached Drev and Pamina.

  “Hey, what took you guys so long . . .” Drev’s voice trailed off as his eyes landed on me. I gave him a hearty grin and winked at Pamina. She giggled.

  “This is Hugh,” said Max. “Hugh, this is Drev.”

  “Nice to meet you, Drev.” I grinned and stuck out my hand. I hoped he would play along. After all, what did he have to gain by telling his friends that I was a phantom he had discovered in the cellar where they lived?

  His face was expressionless, and his eyes scanned my disguise. After a few long seconds, he shook my hand, but he didn’t return my smile.

  “Hi, Hugh. I’m Pamina. Nice to meet you,” she said, pressing her lips together to hold back her laughter.

  “And you would be Drev’s lovely lady friend!” I said, taking her hand.

  Pamina smiled shyly, turning her gaze to the ground. I could see Drev clenching his jaw out of impatience. I was enjoying myself thoroughly.

  “And it’s true!” I exclaimed. “You’re as beautiful as they say you are—actually more so.” I threw the other roommates a raised eyebrow and knowing look as I leaned over and kissed a surprised and delighted Pamina on the cheek. That gesture opened the door for the other three, and they fell over each other to introduce themselves to her. Their eager voices melted together as each one struggled to say something wittier and more endearing than the last. I watched, highly amused, but was annoyed when I felt a hand grab my elbow from behind. I turned and saw Drev’s stony face. Now that his roommates were distracted, I was certain he wanted to get to the bottom of things.

  “How did you meet these guys?”

  I didn’t like Drev’s interrogative tone. It had a patronizing, even menacing, quality.

  “Long story,” I shot back.

  “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “Even longer story.”

  “Did you tell those guys who you are?”

  “They know I’m called Hugh . . .”

  “No!” growled Drev. “You know what I mean—do they know that you’re dead, that you’re not alive?”

  “No,” I said, miffed. “Why is that important? They like me as a friend. That’s all that matters. Are you going to tell them that Pamina’s not alive?”

  Drev gave me a cold, hard stare. I was about to add another rebuttal, when I heard a voice behind me say, “He’s over there! That one with the scythe!”

  I spun around and saw the thugs from earlier with the groundskeeper Horace and the chancellor Parafron. They were walking quickly toward us.

  “What’s going on?” asked Drev, looking at me.

  “We sort of got in a fight with them,” said Max, coming to stand next to me as the accusers walked up to us. This time they didn’t have their masks on and looked more villainous than ever.

  “You! I’ve never seen you around!” bellowed Horace, his massive bulk towering over me.

  “Really? I’ve been around for ages,” I replied calmly.

  The chancellor poked his head out from around Horace’s girth. He opened his mouth to deliver what I guessed could only be an acerbic speech. However, when I looked straight into his dull, glassy eyes, a light flickered briefly in them, revealing that he recognized my face. He stopped for a short moment and stared at me, his mouth agape. I, in turn, stared at him. His dry, gray lips pursed together. I could barely hear him as he said, “Philos.”

  I drew my head back with disgust. Philos was the first student who vanished from Stauros Island, back in the late 1950s. He was Parafron’s friend. After his disappearance, Parafron had fabricated a wild tale that I had come to them in the night when they were studying in the library. Parafron had announced to the public that he had witnessed me grab Philos and whirl around the library like a black tornado until we both evaporated into thin air.

  The truth was that I approached Philos that night to ask for my book, which I had lent to him. To my surprise, Parafron was sitting next to him and holding it in his hand. Philos looked petrified—a hundred times paler and shakier than when we’d met once before. I asked Philos what was wrong, but he didn’t respond. Instead, Parafron insolently accused me of writing lies. I had included details in my book about the Order of the Shrike and how they had secretly murdered members of the Order of the Crane by luring them to a cave. I told Parafron that all of it was true, that there was a cave under the library, just I had written in my book, but it had been boarded up after it was discovered.

  I wrangled with Parafron for a few minutes before snatching my book away. I remembered feeling very uneasy, for he was bold and intelligent, but the gleam in his eyes told me his thoughts were of the malicious sort. I remember turning to Philos and telling him to find better company. When I left, Philos was still shaking.

  The next morning, at daybreak, Parafron came running out of the library in hysterics. He said Philos had been abducted by a demon—a medieval monk who was once known as Hugh Fogg. As he told and retold his story, he coined the term “Demon of Stauros” and slapped a label on me that I had to bear for more than fifty years.

  “Philos,” Parafron rasped, a little louder. His eyes were still glued to my face. I scowled and was about to tell him that he knew quite well that I had nothing to do with the disappearance of Philos, when the whiny voice of a student screeched by my ear and forced me to look away from Parafron.

  “He swiped that thing at us!” It was one of the legacy students. He pointed to my scythe. “It could’ve cut my arm off.”

  “Go on and keep pissing all over yourself, idiot,” retorted J.P. “Your arm’s still there.”

  “If you had left us alone, we wouldn’t have had the fight in the first place,” said Irving, his rising temper apparent in the tremor of his voice.

  Then a boy with four piercings in each ear and a severe case of acne concentrated on his nose stepped forward. He stuck his face out, his chin pointing at Irving.

  “Oh! Does Grandma’s little boy feel bad he got picked on?”

&n
bsp; I recognized his voice as that of the leader of the pack—the boy who had screamed when J.P. had pulled down his pants. I was about to shoot back a clever retort, but Drev’s fist was quicker. A loud smack reverberated through the night air. The blow sent the bully reeling backward, toppling over Parafron.

  “All right, game over!” shouted Horace, as he grabbed my arm and then Drev’s. A series of shouts came from the three roommates. Their words bounced away from Horace’s ears with no effect. Only when Pamina’s voice rang out did the groundskeeper shudder to a halt.

  “No, Horace. It’s not their fault. Please!”

  Horace turned around. “Pamina?”

  Pamina had been standing behind all of us the entire time, and no one had seen her until now. She moved in front of Horace and put her hand on his arm.

  “It’s you, Pamina! You’re here!” he cried out.

  The ogre was elated and immediately released Drev and me so he could open his arms to embrace Pamina.

  “Jesus, Mary, Joseph! Where have ya been?” Horace’s ear-to-ear smile revealed only four teeth. “We’ve all been so worried . . . did ya know that? Where’d ya run off to? We gave up hope, we did. You know how long it’s been—more than two months. And I crossed out those days—put down black X’s. Two months of black X’s. Two months of no Pamina. . . .”

  Horace continued to ramble on, and, despite my dislike of him, I couldn’t help but admire his show of affection for Pamina. As she listened to Horace, tears rolled down her cheeks. She nodded silently as the groundskeeper blabbered away, brushing away her tears from time to time.

  I looked over at Parafron, who had recovered from his fall. Unlike the groundskeeper, he didn’t greet his grandniece with open arms. In fact, Parafron looked absolutely mortified to see her. His face was as white as ivory, his mouth an upside-down V. His eyes darted to my face.

  “She’s become one of you,” he barely whispered, his breathing labored. Before I could react, he turned his head with an abrupt, mechanical jerk. Facing Stauros Hall, he began to walk in that direction, his movements swift and rigid.

  “Hey, Chancellor!” shouted one of the legacy students. “Wait! What about these guys? What about the guy who socked Tyler?”

  Parafron continued to walk away, as if the student’s words had never penetrated his ears. I glanced over at Tyler and his friends, who were seething with anger. Drev and my other three friends walked over to me. Pamina was engrossed in Horace’s conversation. I continued to watch Parafron. He was terrified of his grandniece. But why? At the very least, wouldn’t he want to take this opportunity to find out how she’d become a phantom? Unless he already knew.

  I recalled the details of the conversation I’d had with Pamina earlier that day. She said she had read my book, and that she’d found it in a glass case behind her great-uncle’s desk. Parafron was a clever man, and I doubted he wouldn’t have known that his niece was reading the book. He knew she wanted to leave the island desperately. And if she were to read about a hidden cave where there was a boat . . .

  I was suddenly distracted from my stream of thoughts by the ringleader bully, Tyler, who staggered over to one of his friends, grabbed a handkerchief, and shoved it up his nostril to clog his bloody nose. He caught my eye and sneered at me.

  “Chancellor, my father is going to hear about this!” said Tyler’s friend, raising his voice to a scream. His threat was pointless, for Parafron had already entered Stauros Hall. Apparently not used to being ignored, the brat continued to complain while throwing venomous glances in our direction.

  I’d had enough. I put Ankou’s hat back on and swung the scythe toward Tyler and his friends, who backed away with a gasp. The hat, the scythe, the whole costume inspired me to mimic Ankou’s howling voice the best I could. I was proud of the result. “The next time we meet shall be in the cemetery!”

  The blood drained from their faces. They jumped to their feet, scampered from the courtyard, and ran down the Five Ring Road. I heard laughter around me and saw my friends, including Drev, smiling.

  “C’mon, let’s get to the party before all the macarons and beer run out,” Max said.

  I nodded.

  We walked over to the entrance of Stauros Hall. I had Drev and his friends go ahead of me while I pretended to wait for Pamina and Horace, who were trailing behind. Horace continued to jabber on as Pamina patiently walked beside him, listening. I followed them into Stauros Hall and continued right behind them, across the atrium. As they entered the main foyer, joining the rest of the students and phantoms, I slipped away up the staircase.

  I wanted to know where Parafron had disappeared to. There was no doubt that he knew Pamina had gone down into the cave. He’d probably never even searched for his grandniece when she went missing but had simply dismissed her as another lost soul of the World of the Damned. The shock on his face when he’d seen her had revealed all that, for he’d looked as though he couldn’t fathom how she would have returned.

  One thought led to another, and I deduced that if he were so cold-blooded as to send his own flesh and blood to the World of Damned, then it wouldn’t be hard to imagine him sending other students—even his friend Philos! My rage was barely containable.

  I now had a pressing question I needed answered. Why had he reopened that cave? I was sure Parafron was the culprit. Before Philos’s disappearance, no student had ever gone missing on the island. No one could ever know about that cave under the library unless that person had read my book.

  And why had I written about the cave in my book? I sighed and let my shoulders sag. Had I known my book would lead Parafron to open that cave, and that a poor, lonely soul like Pamina would think it was the only way to leave the island, I wouldn’t have written it.

  My book’s purpose was to preserve the story of the Slayer of the Shadow of Fear. In the last chapters, however, I foolishly recorded the rise of the Order of the Shrike and their attempt to assassinate members of the Order of the Crane. This was meant to show how the Slayer was needed more than ever. I had never imagined that including details about the Saboteurs and the cave would inspire someone, hundreds of years later, to restore the cave and reopen the entrance to the sea. Then again, I had never imagined that the Order of the Shrike would rule the world.

  I had to destroy my book. It was harming people instead of helping them. I looked around, wondering where Parafron had disappeared to. Stauros Hall was massive, with a wide foyer where large staircases sprang from each of the four corners of the room. They led up to multiple floors. I wasn’t keen on the idea of searching for Parafron up and down these halls, but he had the book. If only I had realized its danger earlier.

  Regardless, now was better than never. This was an opportunity I couldn’t waste. I would make Parafron confess that he had purposely opened the cave to make certain students disappear. With his confession, I was certain that I would also learn about his motives.