Serpent's Gate

by Jade Astor

  Stephen was hunkering down in the seat, trying not to make any noise, when Leo walked over and casually tapped on the window.

  “Wouldn’t start, huh?” he asked as though finding Stephen outside at daybreak, trying to commandeer a vehicle, was an entirely unremarkable occurrence. “Sounds like your battery’s dead. That can happen when you leave a car sitting too long.”

  Hoping Leo couldn’t hear his thudding heart, Stephen sat upright in the driver’s seat and rolled the window down a crack.

  “I don’t suppose you could give me a jump and open the gate for me? I…uh…I need to go to the hospital right away and see my uncle.”

  “I could probably do that,” Leo agreed, shrugging. “I want to have my breakfast first. My mother’s probably waiting for me up at the house.”

  Stephen knew she wasn’t, but he didn’t want to tell Leo why. His survival instinct overrode any guilt he might have felt.

  “Do you think you could take care of this first? I…uh…I’d be glad to pay you for your time. And I’d really appreciate it, Leo. The hospital thought I should come as soon as possible.”

  “Old guy’s not doing too great, huh? Sorry to hear that.” Leo stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked back for a moment. Stephen forced himself not to shout at him to hurry up. “Well, I’ll have to find the jumper cables. I think I have some back at the gatehouse. Might take me a while. The place isn’t very organized.”

  “Maybe Uncle Vernon has some in the trunk.” Stephen pulled the key from the ignition and started to hand it to Leo, then thought better of it. “Why don’t I take a look while you get another car to jump it with?”

  Leo frowned while he considered the prospect. “I’ll need to ask Roark if that’s okay,” he said after a while. “None of the cars here are actually mine—not even the truck, though I’m the only one who drives it. In the winter, I attach the snow plow to the front. You should see the way that thing cuts right through the drifts.” Grinning, Leo slapped his hands together in a slicing motion. “I’m pretty good at driving it, too. Not just anyone can. You need to have strong arms to control something that heavy.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s true.” Stephen felt his shirt growing damp as the nervous sweat poured from his body. “But never mind that now. I’m sure Roark won’t mind if we borrow one of the cars to repair mine. He’s probably fast asleep at this hour. No point in disturbing him, right?”

  “Now there’s where you’re wrong. My mother says that Roark never sleeps. Hasn’t slept through the night for years, at least not since Mrs. Fairbourne ran away. He walks around the house all night, and sometimes he even walks outside to the gate and back again. I’ve seen him myself, a few times when I stayed up late watching TV.”

  “I see.” Stephen wondered what Roark’s nocturnal strolls were all about, but he supposed it didn’t matter now. He only hoped that this was one night he would decide not to venture onto the grounds. His next words came out higher-pitched and shakier than he had intended. “Leo, look, I really just want—”

  Something in his tone seemed to give the game away. Leo paused, straightened up, and blinked a few times. “Wait. Is Roark chasing you? Is that why you want to get out of here so fast?”

  Stephen started to fib, but realized the subtle approach was getting him exactly nowhere. When the pool was filled with icy water, better to jump in with both feet, Uncle Vernon always said. “Actually, he is. I don’t want to upset you, Leo, but something terrible happened last night. I think Roark hurt your sister very badly—and I think he wants to hurt me, too. I need to go before he figures out that I’m leaving.”

  “Probably too late for that.” A slow, foolish smile spread across Leo’s face. “I think he’s already out looking. When I left the gatehouse a few minutes ago, I heard my phone ringing. I didn’t want to talk to him this early, so I didn’t pick it up. But I bet he was telling me to help him look for you.”

  “Damn it,” Stephen muttered, feeling the blood drain from his cheeks. “Leo, I’m serious. You have to help me get away from here. Not just my life, but your sister’s, might depend on it. You have to get me through the gate and into the village, with or without my uncle’s car. I can call for help from there. Please, Leo.”

  Leo nodded slowly as he thought it over. “I can do that,” he agreed. “But not right now. If Roark thinks you’re going to the gate, that’s the first place he’ll look. Better to hide for a while, until he thinks you’re already gone. Then I can pretend to go out looking for you in the car, and I can drop you off in the middle of town. You can get someone to take you to the hospital from there.”

  He could go to the police as well, Stephen realized. No doubt the authorities were already wondering what was up with the endless parade of ambulances to Fairbourne House. He would be only too happy to enlighten them.

  “That would be great, Leo. Thanks. Where will you hide me? The gatehouse?”

  “Nah, that’s no good. It’s the first place he’ll come, and it’s too small to stay out of sight in there. I know a much better place, but it’s back at the house. That’s good, though. He won’t expect you to go back there.”

  “You might be right,” Stephen agreed. Besides, what choice did he have? If Roark was out searching the grounds, it would be only a matter of minutes before he made his way over to the cottage.

  “Come on,” Leo said, motioning. Grabbing his bag and his cell phone, Stephen followed him into the mist. Dazed with fear, and disoriented by the thick gray haze, he barely registered where they were going. He had a vague sense that they were going around to the back of the house, where more practical types of gardens replaced those filled with decorative flowers. They were walking toward the kitchen entrance, he realized when he saw several rows of plants bearing plump ripe tomatoes, crook-necked yellow squash, and a few swollen pumpkins. So that was the secret of Mrs. Mulgrave’s excellent cooking, Stephen thought giddily—she grew her own ingredients. It made sense. The Fairbournes really were lucky to have her. They’d probably never eaten a canned vegetable in their lives.

  “In here.” Leo nudged aside a heap of watering cans and garden tools, knocking out a ball of garden twine that rolled between his feet. He picked it up and absently tucked it into his pocket while he opened a small wooden door. A roll of garden twine fell Stephen expected to find some kind of pantry or food storage area behind it, but instead a set of narrow wooden stairs stretched upward into the gloom. They looked as old and outdated as the portrait of Silas Fairbourne in the study. “Go up these and you’ll be in a place Roark will never think to look for you. I’ll stay right behind you so you don’t trip.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Stephen grasped the worn rail, tested it with a brief tug, and then hove himself up. At first, he found the near-darkness unexpectedly comforting, since it made him feel doubly hidden. Leo stuck close beside him, his large frame filling the narrow space.

  “Will Roark think to look in here?” Stephen whispered.

  “Nope. These stairs were meant for servants. He’ll check outside first. Maybe he’ll walk all the way down to the gatehouse. That will buy us plenty of time.”

  Stephen bit his lip. He actually would have preferred that Roark steer clear of the gate so he could make a smooth getaway when the time came. But that couldn’t be helped now.

  More time passed as they trudged upward. Leo’s breathing seemed to quicken, as though he were growing nervous or maybe just winded. Stephen could understand the feeling.

  “Leo…how far up should we go? Roark’s bound to come back eventually. We want to be able to get back down and out of the house quickly.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon,” Leo assured him.

  They climbed onward. Finally, when Stephen felt as though his legs were starting to wobble, he spotted a small landing fitted with a plain wooden door. Leo crowded in behind him as he reached for the latch, blocking the way back down.

  “You can open that,” Leo said.

  Stephen
fidgeted. The aura of safety had begun to wear off. He gave the door a half-hearted tug, but unsurprisingly it didn’t budge.

  “Try harder,” Leo ordered.

  “Who told you about this secret room, Leo?” Stephen asked in as casual a voice as he could muster.

  “No one. I’ve known about it for a long time. I grew up in this house, don’t forget. Just like the heir and the spare, as my mom calls them.”

  He gave a low, rumbling laugh that made Stephen’s skin prickle. Something about Leo had changed while they walked up those narrow, dusty stairs. Even the cadence of his voice sounded more even, the words more crisply pronounced. Maybe he was feigning confidence, trying to keep both of them from being afraid.

  “What was in here?” Stephen asked. He tugged at the door again. With a grunt of impatience, Leo reached around him and grasped the antique iron latch.

  “Old things. Like trunks with clothes in them. Maybe other stuff too.”

  Clothes? Like the robe he’d found in Roark’s room, maybe?

  The door gave way with a creaking sound, and Stephen stumbled forward into another entirely dark room that smelled of old wood and must. He shuddered as he imagined hundreds of slinky multi-legged creatures skittering around them. The space seemed empty except for a few old wooden boxes piled in one corner.

  “Be careful,” Leo cautioned. His voice sounded vaguely mocking. “Hard to see in here.”

  Stephen’s fingers felt clammy as he held up his phone and directed the light ahead of them. “Maybe there’s some kind of light switch or pull chain somewhere.”

  “Maybe,” Leo said. “Or maybe not.”

  “This isn’t okay, Leo,” Stephen said, becoming more agitated by the second. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but there was a first time for everything. After today, he suspected he’d come away with a raging case of it. “I don’t think we should stay here after all. What if Roark comes back and realizes we’re trapped in here? He could fix it so we’d never get out. And that might just be the way he wants it!”

  “I told you not to worry about Roark. He’d never think to seal us in here. Besides, you have your phone, right? You could always call for help.”

  Stephen sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He reminded himself that Leo’s mind functioned like a child’s. Getting him upset might make things worse. He wondered why he had managed to sound so lucid a few minutes earlier. As though some other consciousness had momentarily taken possession of his mind.

  A loud cracking noise off to the left made him jump back. He held up his phone in time to see a panel on the wall begin to move. Someone was opening it from the other side. No way could Roark have figured out where they were hiding already. Then again, it was his house. He probably knew about plenty of secret access panels and shortcuts. Possibly this room wasn’t as hidden as Leo thought.

  At least the near-darkness would give them cover. And Roark could only use a weapon on one of them a time. They could fight their way out if they had to.

  “Leo,” he whispered as the panel groaned louder and began to move forward, “we need to be ready for anything. If you sense even the slightest danger, attack. I’ll back you up. We can get out of here if we work together.”

  “Okay,” Leo agreed amiably. He seemed remarkably unconcerned with their predicament. “Whatever you say.”

  After switching off his phone, Stephen took a few steps back and crouched down, ready to spring forward as the panel finally made a screeching sound and slid sideways. Even in the dim light, he recognized the silhouetted figure right away.

  “Hello, Stephen,” Justin said. Stephen switched his phone back on in time to see a self-satisfied smile lift those thin lips. He’d kissed them more than once, but at the moment it was the last thing he wanted to do. He hadn’t forgotten the message Geoffrey had left him.

  “Roark was chasing him,” Leo explained as he lumbered up to stand behind Stephen. “He asked me to help him get away. So I did.”

  “How nice of you,” Justin said, nodding. “Well done. I must say I am impressed with you, Leo. Did he give you any trouble?”

  “None at all,” Leo said proudly. “Came along without making a peep. Fell right in with my idea to distract your brother, too. He went off to look in the other direction.”

  Justin nodded. “Roark should stay out of our hair for a while. I watched from the roof and saw him tramping off toward the gate. If we’re lucky, he’ll head toward the woods. That would seem a likely place to search for Stephen.”

  Leo laughed. “That’s where I told him to look. For once, he decided to listen to me.”

  Stephen started to praise him for his quick thinking, but stopped when he noticed the two of them grinning at each other…almost as if they shared some private joke. And hadn’t Leo told him he hadn’t answered Roark’s call to the gatehouse?

  “We need to jump-start my uncle’s car,” he announced, willing his voice not to break as a sudden wave of fear washed over him. “I didn’t get to the hospital yesterday, so I plan to do that today. Right now, in fact. Can you help me with that while Leo opens the gates for me, Justin?”

  “You want to use the car, huh?” Justin’s grin tilted sideways, and Leo’s hollow-eyed smirk mirrored his. “Guess we ought to get right on that. What do you say, Leo?”

  Leo giggled in response. Neither of them moved.

  “Well, I want to get an early start. Uncle Vernon will be wondering what happened to me.”

  “Most likely he will,” Leo agreed.

  “You’re missing the point,” Justin said. “Leo and I don’t want you to go. Not yet. With Ivy gone, we’re short one person for the little party we’re planning. We were hoping you’d fill in.”

  “No thanks.” A weird sensation fluttered in Stephen’s stomach. He forced himself to sound casual. “I mean, it’s nice of you to include me, but I think it’s best if I beat the morning traffic. Right, Leo? Maybe I should just go now.”

  “I have to agree,” Justin said. “Going now seems like an excellent idea. Roark could return at any time, after all. We’ll have to be efficient about this. More efficient than my ancestor Silas was when he extended the same invitation to poor Lucas Hodge. Little twerp didn’t realize what an honor it was even to be asked. Stephen understands, though, don’t you?”

  He took a step forward, and at the same time Leo moved in closer. Justin’s eyes had taken on a fixed, glassy sheen. Stephen realized that in all the time they’d stood there talking, Justin hadn’t blinked once. His attention was focused on Stephen with monomaniacal precision.

  Lifting his left hand, he gave Leo a quick, almost imperceptible signal. Stephen started to run at the same instant the two came together, trapping him between them. Writhing, kicking, and even screaming did no good.

  “I meant what I said about Roark,” Justin told Leo while Stephen struggled to no avail. “He won’t search the woods forever. Let’s get a move on.”

  “Where are we going?” Stephen asked as they each took one of his arms and pulled him out of the room.

  “To a place you’ve been dying to see since you got here,” Justin said. His remark made Leo giggle again. “The roof.”

  Where wind and rain meet moonlight and sunshine. Stephen heard the voice of Justin and Roark’s mother. The words she had spoken in his dream echoed in his fear-numbed mind.

  He began to struggle, desperately this time. Their grip on his didn’t falter at all. “No! I’m not going there! No!”

  “I think you are,” Justin said.

  “Stop! Please!” Going limp and dragging his feet didn’t slow them down, either. Since both of them were taller and stronger than Stephen, they simply lifted him until only the tips of his sneakers touched the floor. His feet skidded and bumped across the floor and through another doorway. One last set of steps, much shorter this time, rose in front of him.

  A rush of cool, fresh air greeted him when they stepped out of the small decorative tower Stephen had seen from the ground. He
found himself standing on a flat, slate-gray surface bordered with spike-topped iron pickets.

  Far below them, the grounds of Fairbourne House spread in every direction, the lush lawn framed by thick trees on three sides and the Serpent’s Gate and gatehouse on the fourth. On one side he could see the shingled roof of the cottage he and his uncle had shared briefly, with the gray oval fountain and Uncle Vernon’s disabled car beside it. A thin pinkish mist hung over everything, with faint tendrils of vapor rising into the silvery morning sky.

  To his dismay, he saw no sign of Roark. If his hands had been free, Stephen would have pinched himself in anger. He realized now that Roark had tried to warn him on the stairs about Justin’s plan to abduct him. He was dressed because he’d planned to spirit Stephen away. How could he have been so foolish as to run from him—straight into Leo’s arms? It was a mistake he’d regret for the rest of his life—a life that would most likely last only a few more minutes unless a miracle happened.

  Justin gave him a shove from behind, and he stumbled a few steps onto the roof. Just ahead, he spotted a hulking shape, swathed in a fog that momentarily obscured its details. As he got closer, shepherded along by Justin and Leo, he noticed a raised sculpture, the top surface flattened so that it could double as a table.

  The subject, of course, was Istharios himself. His undulating coils formed the iron structure’s base and support, with his enormous upper jaw jutting upward like a macabre headboard on an even weirder bed. If anyone were to stretch out on the weathered metal surface, the unfortunate person’s head would lie in the exact center of Istharios’s hungry maw.

  “Keep going,” Justin growled. He pushed Stephen along until his knees knocked against the unyielding edge of the sculpture. Meanwhile, Leo was busy gathering what looked like an armful of black burlap sacks from the base of the tower they’d exited. Stephen didn’t need to see him unfurl one to know these were more of those foul robes like the one he’d seen in Roark’s room. He’d seen the same one in Justin’s room, too, just after the fire, he now realized. Justin had planted it in Roark’s room—with Ivy’s help, he now suspected. They were two people he’d glimpsed cavorting and laughing in Roark’s bedroom. And Justin had made sure Ivy could never tell anyone what they had done.