The Beast

by Ally Condie

  Emma’s nose was pink with cold. “Nope. I think we’re good.”

  Opal exhaled. She and Nico had ridden to the cemetery super early—to see if there were any Beast footprints or tail marks they’d need to hide—but the hailstorm had removed most of the evidence. There were still a few traces if someone knew where to look, but maybe no one would.

  “They are still talking about Still Cove,” Emma said glumly. “Colton knows that a lot of Beast legends point there. I think he wants to charter a boat and see for himself.”

  “Crap.” They’d have to do something. The film crew couldn’t be allowed into the cove. “Are you on a break right now?”

  Emma nodded. Then she beamed, eyes shining. “Colton lent me his credit card. He said to get three coffees for the crew and something for myself.” Emma waved a Platinum American Express. “Can you believe it?”

  Opal studied her friend’s giddy smile. She knew being around a real film crew—no matter how or why—was a huge deal for Emma. She dreamed of making movies herself one day. It was natural she’d be excited about the job.

  “That’s great,” Opal said, voice neutral. “But don’t forget—tomorrow is Halloween. Bridger might be planning something big for the holiday.”

  Emma nodded, her expression growing serious. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this no trick-or-treating situation. I think the boys may have had their brains erased.”

  Opal snorted, then shrugged. “Logan got us all invited to Azra Alikhan’s haunted house party. That at least means costumes. Sound fun?”

  Emma pursed her lips. “Well, I do like scaring people. And fake blood …”

  Opal laughed. “Just keep your eyes open, okay? We need to be a step ahead of them.”

  Emma cracked her knuckles. “Absolutely.”

  Opal took a to-go cup and headed for the docks. She wanted to see if any of the film crew were trying to rent a boat yet. Plus, she loved being near the ocean in this kind of rainy weather, when the sea and sky seemed to merge with the ever-present mist.

  Reaching the waterfront, she found the area largely empty—almost everyone was back up at town square, gawking at Freakshow and Timbers’ Halloween preparations. With school out, many parents had taken the day off as well, like a town holiday.

  Feeling an odd pull, Opal decided to walk out onto the pedestrian dock. Her thoughts kept returning to the pitched battle in the cemetery. The Beast. It was real. It had come up on dry land. But why? Because of them? Something they’d done? Or was it something they weren’t doing, as Torchbearers?

  Opal wondered what the Beast really was. What it wanted. Is the sea monster connected to the Darkdeep somehow? And where had those gremlins come from? Where were they right now?

  She glanced at the gray-green ocean lapping against the dock’s wooden pilings. Was the Beast down there in the murky depths, all alone?

  To her surprise, Opal found that she’d strolled halfway along the dock’s length. An icy breeze brought her back to her senses. What was she doing out there? This was one of the coldest spots in Timbers. She turned to head back toward town, but found herself zipping her jacket tighter and striding all the way to the end instead.

  The floor planks were old but well maintained, the dock’s handrails bleached and pitted from years of exposure to the elements. Opal reached the far railing and leaned against it, facing the sea. She shivered, her breath making a small cloud around her face, but Opal didn’t hurry away. Glancing down, she noticed a curious divot carved in the corner where the handrails met. The gap was round, with a few odd notches cut around its outside.

  It looked … familiar.

  Something clicked in her brain.

  Opal nearly dropped her cup into the ocean. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the compass from Dixon’s crypt. Carefully, she pressed the whole thing into the wooden circle.

  It was a perfect fit.

  11

  NICO

  Nico stared at the compass in the handrail.

  The match was exact—he could tell it was meant to go there.

  “You just happened to find this while wandering down the pier?” Tyler asked, frowning as he watched Opal closely.

  “Yes,” Opal snapped. “No one … told me, if that’s what you’re asking. I was out on the dock and noticed the gap, and the answer clicked in … in my brain.” She glanced away, hugging herself against the whipping breeze.

  Nico watched her brow furrow, as if Opal wasn’t sure about her own answer.

  Tyler raised both palms. “I was just asking. Because this is an incredibly lucky break.”

  Opal, Tyler, and Nico were huddled at the end of the walking pier. Logan was tied up with his Beast-shirt stands, while Emma and the Freakshow crew had ventured into the woods north of town to get B-roll shots of giant trees and other Pacific Northwest staples. Emma had texted they’d be gone at least a couple of hours.

  Nico watched Opal tug on her braid as she stared at the railing. “I came down to the waterfront to see if Bridger was nosing around for a boat,” she explained peevishly, “and decided to walk out here.” She waved a hand at the compass snugly ensconced in the handrail divot. “Suddenly, the answer was, like, literally right in front of me.”

  Nico nodded, relieved. He’d worried Opal would say this was another telepathic sending or something, and wasn’t ready to deal with that right now. Stepping close to the railing, he tapped the compass on its face. “It definitely fits here. But what does that mean?”

  “There are etchings in the wood around the compass,” Opal noted. “Not just at the four directional points, but this slash here”—she pointed to a cut on the outside of the circle—“matches up with the torch engraved on the compass.”

  Nico straightened as a new thought occurred to him. “Look dead south. It’s aiming exactly at Fort Bulloch.”

  Tyler spun to face the opposite direction. “North lines up with the old lumber mill. You see?”

  Nico shaded his eyes. Tyler was right. Directly north of where they stood loomed the very first timber factory, the original one around which Timbers was founded. The hulking building was now a museum displaying historical exhibits about the Nantes Timber Company and the town’s wild and lawless early days.

  Opal had caught on as well. “Due west is out to sea,” she said, chewing her lip. “And east …”

  As one, they wheeled to face Main Street as it climbed toward downtown. Due east—straight as an arrow—sat Town Hall on its corner of town square.

  Tyler began bumping his fists together in excitement. “The old mill, Fort Bulloch, and Town Hall are by far the three oldest buildings in Timbers. That fits too perfectly to be a coincidence. And Opal’s right about the torch symbol—it lines up with this cut in the railing, so we know the compass is positioned correctly.” He stopped moving and pressed his lips, thinking hard. “But what does that mean? It’s almost like …”

  Nico straightened suddenly. “Could the slash mark indicate a place, too?”

  “Yes!” Tyler hissed, grabbing Nico by the shoulder. “Look—it’s pointing exactly southeast. What’s over there?”

  They all peered in that direction, which ran back over the waterfront. Three gasps sounded at once.

  “How have I never noticed those before?” Tyler breathed.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Nico said with a laugh. “I knew they were there and didn’t think of it, either.”

  Opal grunted. “Well, you can’t miss it now.”

  A hundred yards from where they stood, the old Custom House rose in the center of Coast Street, topped by a cupola with a copper bell that had oxidized to a pretty lime green. Once the place to weigh a fisherman’s daily catch—under the watchful eye of a tax collector—it was now a busy office building housing several departments of government, including the National Park Service where Nico’s dad worked.

  Carved along the outside of the cupola were tiny starburst flowers.

  “Asters!” Opal blurted. When b
oth boys looked at her, she pulled out her phone and opened its search history. The last link was to a botanic website called Famous Flowers of Washington. “I googled the flowers carved on Charles Dixon’s crypt.” She showed them a pic. “See? They match the ones up there on the Custom House.” Opal pulled out the leather notebook she’d been carrying everywhere and pointed to one of the tiny flower sketches. “And there are dozens of asters drawn here, inside this book I found on the houseboat.” Her voice carried a triumphant ring.

  Nico scratched his cheek. “The Custom House, huh?”

  “It’s really old, too,” Tyler admitted. “Probably next after Town Hall.”

  “Let’s check it out,” Opal said firmly. “Look for any sign of the Torchbearers.”

  “My dad works in there.” Nico ran a hand over his mouth. “He’s not a fan of surprise visits.”

  “Then we’ll leave him out of this one,” Opal said. “Make it a stealth mission.”

  Nico stared at the old building, and the dozen or so people going about their day around it.

  “Better make it extra stealth,” he muttered.

  “This isn’t gonna work,” Tyler muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his brand-new BEAST PRACTICES hoodie.

  “Of course it will,” Opal shot back. She wore big tourist sunglasses and an itchy-looking YOU’RE THE BEAST sweater. They’d borrowed the clothing from Logan, who warned them not to get anything dirty or they’d have to pay for it. He’d been highly skeptical of their mission—and didn’t want to miss out on any sales—so he hadn’t come along.

  They were huddled on a bench one block away from the Custom House. Nico wore Logan’s most ridiculous design—a black UNLEASH THE BEAST WITHIN windbreaker that came with matching Beast-logo track pants.

  “It’s usually slow around this time, especially since it’s Friday.” Nico tugged at the pants, trying to get them to cover his socks. Had Logan given him a too-small pair on purpose? “But that doesn’t mean the security guard won’t bounce us if he thinks we’re screwing around. They keep a close watch on the place.”

  “Then why do this now?” Tyler said. “We could come back when everyone’s gone.”

  “Because we’re already here,” Opal replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to waste any more time, or have to break in later when the building is closed. Now quit whining and act touristy.”

  Tyler scolded. “And how is that, exactly? Pretend I’m lost and start yelling ‘Go Beast!’ every twenty steps?”

  “Come on,” Nico hissed. “The way is clear.” They rose and scurried across the street, peering all around in curiosity like three out-of-towners trying to catch a sea monster. As they drew level with the building Opal snuck a pic, then zoomed it on her phone to see details. “Nothing else on the outside looks interesting.”

  “What’d you expect?” Tyler grumbled, lagging behind. “A giant hand holding a torch like the Statue of Liberty?”

  “I’m just being thorough,” Opal snapped. “You could help instead of being snarky.”

  Tyler crossed his arms. “We won’t learn anything on the street. Someone has to go inside.”

  He and Opal both turned to look at Nico.

  Nico frowned at them. “Did I mention my dad works in there? Pretty sure he’d recognize me.”

  “He’d recognize any of us,” Opal countered. “But you’ve been inside before. You know the layout, and you’ve got an excuse if you get caught. Just pretend you need to ask him something.”

  “Because that’ll go over well.” Nico closed his eyes, then sighed. “Wait here.”

  Steeling his nerve, he marched for the front door. Heat enveloped him like a warm fist as he entered the lobby, looking for anything that hinted at the Torchbearers.

  Footsteps echoed down a wide staircase to the second floor. Some instinct made Nico slip into the shadowy alcove beneath them. A second later, Warren Holland strode across the tiles, a stack of papers tucked under his elbow as he balanced a mug of coffee.

  Nico stopped breathing. Humming to himself, his father began pinning documents to a bulletin board directly across from where Nico hid, no more than a dozen feet away. Heart pounding, Nico willed himself invisible. If his dad turned around, he couldn’t miss his own son lurking underneath the Custom House staircase with zero reason to be there.

  Warren finished with a grunt and began to pivot, but paused as the antique elevator beside the bulletin board chimed. The gate opened and a woman in a business suit stepped out. She nodded pleasantly to Warren and held the sliding door ajar.

  “Hi, Warren. Going up? I know you prefer taking the stairs to waiting.”

  Nico’s dad grinned back. “Sometimes you get lucky. Thanks, Brenda.”

  Warren Holland stepped inside the cage. Moments later, he was gone.

  Nico closed his eyes. Slumping back against the wall, he whispered a prayer of thanks, resting his head against the cool marble. The surface was oddly bumpy. Nico pulled back, turning around to examine the wall behind him. And nearly choked. A compass identical to the one they’d found in Dixon’s crypt was carved into the stone, with its arrow pointing straight down.

  Nico slipped from the alcove and hurried outside. On the front steps, he glanced around, then waved frantically for Tyler and Opal to join him. He rushed his friends inside, crowded them into the narrow space beneath the stairs, and pointed.

  “Wow,” Tyler whispered. “Good work, Nicolas.”

  Opal squeezed his hand. “How’d you find this?”

  “Oh, you know. Being observant. Careful analysis.”

  “I bet he hid from his dad back here,” Tyler said, eyes still glued to the carving.

  “Definitely,” Opal agreed. Nico scowled at them both.

  “Okay. I think this is saying to go … down.” Tyler turned to Nico. “How do we get down?”

  “Is there a lower level?” Opal suggested. “Like a basement?”

  Nico shook his head. “Just an old boiler room with a giant electrical closet. Nothing else.”

  Opal ground her teeth. “Then we’re missing something.”

  Footsteps in the hallway silenced their conversation. They held still as a group of office workers strolled through the lobby, gossiping about Freakshow. Then a more deliberate set of footfalls sounded across the tiles. Nico peeked out, saw the security guard testing a storage room doorknob to make sure it was locked.

  Nico pulled back in a mild panic. “The guard will find us here. What do we do? He knows my dad!”

  “Against the wall!” Opal whispered, suiting action to words as she flattened to the marble.

  Then, in a blink, she disappeared.

  Nico and Tyler gaped in shock. The footsteps drew closer.

  “Guys!” Opal’s voice echoed up from between Nico’s feet. “Down here!”

  Nico saw that one of the floor tiles had dropped open on a secret hinge. Opal was sprawled on the ground in a narrow, dusty hallway six feet below them.

  “I found the way down,” she mumbled, rubbing an elbow.

  The footsteps were right on top of them. Nico looked at Tyler, then pushed him toward the gap. He dropped through just as Opal rolled out of the way.

  A cranky voice called out, “Is someone there?”

  Swallowing a lump in his throat, Nico jumped down after his friends, then sprang up to push the tile back into place. It closed with a soft click. They held their breaths for several seconds, but nothing happened. Finally, Nico felt certain the guard had moved on, or at least hadn’t found the trapdoor. He slowly looked around.

  “I felt something on the wall up there,” Opal said, still breathing hard from her abrupt fall. “When I backed against the carving, I must’ve triggered a hidden catch.”

  “Where are we?” Tyler whispered.

  “Right where we wanted to be.” Nico’s voice thrummed with excitement. He pointed. “Look!”

  At the opposite end of the corridor was a heavy-looking wooden door. A symbol was carved on its surface.

>   An upthrust hand, holding a flaming torch. ACCIPERE VICTUS was chiseled right above it.

  Accept to Overcome.

  The Torchbearer motto. Same as on the table in the secret tunnel chamber.

  “We found them again, you guys,” Nico said. Opal and Tyler grinned in delight.

  They strode down the hall. Nico tried the door. It opened easily, and they stepped inside.

  12

  OPAL

  Opal sneezed as dust swirled up from the floor.

  “How many of these places are there?” Tyler said, his voice strangely muffled in the dim, musty room.

  Seriously. They’d found an abandoned houseboat on an island in Still Cove. They’d found the Torchbearers’ vault inside a hidden underground tunnel. The Darkdeep lurked behind a trick wall panel, and now they’d literally fallen through the floor of the Custom House into another secret room. Opal was starting to believe she didn’t know her hometown at all.

  But now we know more about Timbers than anyone. And not just its secret spaces. All of the crazy things she’d dreamed about as a kid—magical creatures, supernatural portals, other worlds—they seemed more than just possible now. They hid around every corner, if you knew where to look.

  Which is why it drove her nuts that the boys doubted whether Thing could actually be speaking inside her head. Why was that the impossibility they couldn’t accept, after everything else they’d experienced together?

  “What is this?” Tyler asked, eyes scanning the walls.

  Nico shook his head. “It feels different from the other Torchbearer hideouts. Less … formal?”

  This room wasn’t damp and slimy like the tunnel chamber, though it was covered in cobwebs. And dust. Like, so many cobwebs and so much dust. Opal sneezed again, then machine-gunned another eight more.

  “Bless you,” Tyler said, a package of tissues emerging from his pocket.