Diesel moved next to me. “Can you isolate the part that’s empowered?”
I traced the fresco with my fingertip. “It’s the key.” I looked more closely. The Lovey Key was embedded into the fresco.
Diesel saw it, too. “Obviously, Wulf or Hatchet has passed through here, and the key must have attached itself on contact.”
I scanned the room. “How did they get in? You couldn’t open either door.”
“They probably came the same way we did.”
“A chubby guy in full Renaissance regalia and a man who looks like a vampire just walk into a frat house and let themselves into the dungeon under the taproom?”
“It’s a fraternity. You’d be surprised how often that happens. I know. I belonged to a fraternity.” He pressed the key and—whoosh—part of the wall swung out. “Damn,” Diesel said. “Am I good, or what? This is a secret door.”
The door opened onto a narrow winding staircase positioned between the outside wall and the inside wall. I followed Diesel into the staircase, and when we were halfway down, the door closed with a click. I retraced my steps and pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t open. I couldn’t find a handle, a switch, a button. No way to open the door.
“We’re locked in,” I said to Diesel.
“That’s kind of a bummer, because there’s no way out down here, and I have no bars on my cell phone.”
I joined Diesel at the bottom of the stairs and flicked my flashlight around the room. We were in a sort of grotto. Stone walls, moldy ceiling, a dark, seemingly endless pool of water.
“How did it come to this?” I asked Diesel. “Everything was going right for me. I had a little house, a job I liked, even a cat. And then you came along, and now I’m going to die.”
“We might not die,” Diesel said.
“How so?”
Diesel had his flashlight trained to writing on the wall. Love is a leap of faith.
“I hate these messages,” I said. “I hate them, hate them, hate them! I don’t want to see another message for the entire rest of my life.”
There was a moment of mutual silence where I suspect we were thinking the same thing . . . that the rest of our lives could be ten or fifteen minutes, depending on how fast the air got used up in here.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pitch a fit.”
“It’s okay. I’m not overjoyed to see more messages, either.” He handed me his flashlight. “Hang on to this until I get back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking a leap of faith.”
And he jumped into the black water and disappeared.
“No!” I yelled. “Diesel!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I had a white-knuckle grip on the flashlight, scanning the water’s surface. A minute passed. Two minutes. I was pacing the pool’s edge, looking for a sign that Diesel was moving around. A tear trickled down my cheek, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.
“If anyone’s listening,” I whispered, “please don’t let him drown.”
I thought I saw a ripple, and then Diesel popped his head out in an explosion of water. He swam to the side and hoisted himself out.
“There’s an underwater tunnel about ten feet down,” he said. “The tunnel itself isn’t real long. Maybe twenty feet. It opens into another grotto. And there’s a passage going out of that grotto. I didn’t get to explore the passage. You’re going to have to leave the flashlight here. It’s not waterproof. It’ll be useless on the other side.”
“I don’t know if I can hold my breath long enough.”
“You absolutely can. It’s not that far. I know exactly where the tunnel starts. We’re going to swim over to it, and I’m going to guide you in and push you from behind. Don’t kick. Just let me push.”
“Oh boy.”
“It’s not so bad. It’s like Indiana Jones. Remember how that big boulder was coming at him in Raiders of the Lost Ark? This is a snap compared to that.”
I eased myself into the water with Diesel supporting me.
“It’s cold,” I said.
“Only at first. You’ll get used to it.”
We scooted around the edge of the pool until Diesel said we were above the start to the tunnel.
I held my breath, and Diesel pulled me down and pushed my head into the opening. I put my arms out straight, and Diesel propelled us through the passage and kicked us up to the surface.
We climbed out and stood there, dripping wet and taking deep breaths. It was pitch-black, and I couldn’t see anything.
“Can you see in the dark?” I asked him.
“Yes. Can you?”
“No. Not even a little.”
“Hang on to me, and I’ll get us out of here.”
The passage was high enough that I didn’t have to stoop, and wide enough that my shoulders weren’t constantly hitting the sides. My shoes were squishing water, but it was better than walking barefoot. We made a turn, and I saw light ahead. A few more steps and the light was brighter. We took another turn and stepped into a large, domed room. And Hatchet was there. He was sitting on the floor with a lump and a gash on his forehead, looking damp and dejected, surrounded by rats.
I felt myself go rigid with anger, and I glared at Hatchet. “You sick son of a . . .”
Diesel wrapped an arm around me and walked me back into the passage a couple feet.
“Go easy,” Diesel said. “We need him to talk to us.”
“He hurt Glo.”
“I know, but we want him to tell us things.”
I nodded.
“Can you hold it together?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
We returned to the domed room.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Diesel said.
“We shall all die together in this hellhole, this stinking pit of misery,” Hatchet said.
“What’s with the rats?”
“They doth like me.”
We were on the far side of the room from Hatchet, and I wasn’t going any closer. Maybe if Hatchet was Pied Piper to hamsters I could manage, but these rats were as big as barn cats.
“Is that one of your special talents?” I asked Hatchet. “You attract vermin?”
“Apparently. They followed me here from one of the tunnels.”
There were four tunnel entrances in the room, plus the tunnel we just left. I tipped my head back and saw that the light was coming from a crack in the domed ceiling high overhead and reflecting off what looked like quartz crystals embedded in the walls of the cave.
“Have you tried all the tunnels?” Diesel asked.
“Yes. ’Tis a maze. I always return to this room. Some are booby-trapped. None are lit. And I cannot see in the dark.”
“Is there more water?” I asked him.
“Nay. None that I have found. Just the way we came.”
“And you came from Alpha Delta?”
“I did not. My sire doth open the back door to the Sphinx. It was all in the little book of sonnets. Where the key must fit in the wall to begin the journey to the stone. I was prepared to take the leap of faith. And I knew to find the stone and the stone’s tablet here.”
When Diesel and I found the first stone several months ago, we found a small tablet hidden with it. There was a power play between Diesel and Wulf, and Diesel got the stone but Wulf got the tablet. The tablet was written in an arcane language, but supposedly if the tablet could be translated it would lead to another stone.
“So why are you sitting here?” I asked Hatchet.
“When I returned to the secret entrance, it was closed and would not open. There was only silence. So I came back here to escape through one of the tunnels, but there is no escape I can find.”
“I’m surprised Wulf would entrust you with the stone,” I said. “I’d think he’d be the one to take possession of it.”
“He could not identify it,” Hatchet said. “Only you or I can id
entify the stone, and there are many stones here, as you can see. They could not all be brought back. It made sense that I would be the one to retrieve, and he would be the one to keep watch.”
“We tried to get into the Sphinx, but the back door was jammed,” I told Hatchet. “The lock was smashed and the tip of what looked like your sword was wedged into it.”
“I left my sword with my master,” Hatchet said. “I fear harm has come to him at the hand of the she-devil Anarchy.” He touched the gash on his head. “I met her here. She came from one of the many tunnels. She said she destroyed my liege lord and I was now her minion, but I refused. We fought, and she took the tablet and stone and ran into a tunnel, choosing unwisely.”
“Which tunnel?” Diesel asked.
“The tunnel marked N. She was perhaps ten feet into the tunnel when it gave way and she dropped out of sight.”
Diesel went to the tunnel and looked into the gaping hole. “It’s a long way down.”
“Do you see her?” I asked.
“No. I don’t see a body.”
“She’s very strong,” Hatchet said.
“Is this Deirdre Early we’re talking about?” I asked him.
“I only know her as Anarchy.”
“And she has the stone and the tablet?”
“Yes. I fear she does.”
I looked at Diesel and his face showed nothing, but I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. Anarchy wouldn’t know one stone from the next, and Hatchet would never give her the real stone. He’d keep the real stone on him and give her a substitute.
“There are four tunnels leading out,” Diesel said. “We know we don’t want to go in N, since it has a big hole in it. Did you try the other three?” he asked Hatchet.
“I did. And I always returned here.”
“The tunnels are labeled N, S, E, W,” I said. “The points of the compass.” I pulled a totally drenched piece of paper out of my jeans pocket and carefully unfolded it. “This is what I copied off The Key House plaque. It made no sense when I copied it, but now I’m thinking it might be the way out of this chamber.”
Diesel took the paper from me. “It starts with W.”
Hatchet rushed to the W tunnel, and the rats ran with him.
“Dude,” Diesel said to Hatchet. “You have to go last. I don’t want to be stepping on your rats.”
Hatchet retreated, and Diesel led the way into the tunnel. We turned a corner, the light disappeared, and we were plunged into darkness. I put my hand to Diesel’s back and stayed close. I could hear Hatchet stumbling behind me, the rats squealing behind him.
Diesel stopped abruptly. I bumped into him, and Hatchet bumped into me, and I could feel the rats scurrying over my feet.
“Jeez Louise,” I said, chills running down my spine, a scream lodged halfway in my throat.
Hatchet stepped back, and the rats went with him.
“A little advance notice next time you stop,” I said to Diesel.
“Sorry. I forgot you can’t see. There are two tunnel choices here. If we follow the letters on the plaque, we take SW, so here goes.”
It’s easy to lose track of time in the dark. Without a watch ticking off minutes, time either stretches on into infinity or flies, depending on your level of enjoyment. In this case, we seemed to be walking forever. Stopping while Diesel read the paper, and continuing on. We came to a small chamber where there was another crack in the high domed ceiling and weak light filtered down. I could see that there were two tunnel choices, and Diesel wasn’t moving.
“Which way do we go?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” Diesel said. “The ink is blurry on this one from the soaking. I wouldn’t want to send us into a booby-trapped tunnel.”
Some of the rats were abandoning Hatchet and wandering off into one of the tunnels.
“Follow the rats,” I said. “Hopefully, they’re heading for food.”
In a couple beats, we were again without light. I was close behind Diesel, both hands clutching his shirt. Twice I felt something brush against my leg and I thought rat! And by this time, I was hoping it was a rat, because I didn’t want to speculate what else it could be.
“I’m stopping,” Diesel said. “We’re at a ladder. And I can see a hatch above it. Everyone stay here until I open the hatch.”
I waited in the dark, listening to Diesel climb the ladder. There was a scraping sound, and Diesel told me to follow him. I climbed the ladder and Diesel lifted me out into a small dark chamber.
“I think we’re behind a false wall,” he said.
I felt him moving around, more scraping sounds, and the wall rotated to reveal a real room with a cement floor. Light was pouring through a couple half windows high on a cinder-block wall. Boxes and paint cans were stacked on one side of the room. Beyond the boxes, I saw what looked like a water heater.
“We’re in a storeroom,” Diesel said. “Either a classroom building or a dorm.”
Diesel yelled to Hatchet to come up, and Hatchet climbed out and scrambled to his feet. One of the rats came with him. The rat looked around, and went back down the ladder. We closed the trapdoor and the rotating wall, and I punched Hatchet in the face.
“That’s for Glo,” I said.
Hatchet’s nose was bleeding, and Diesel was smiling.
“Feel better?” Diesel asked me.
“No,” I said.
I was no longer dripping, but my clothes were wet and smudged with mud from brushing against the dirt walls. Now that I wasn’t quite so terrified, I was freezing.
“We need dry clothes,” Diesel said. “Good thing credit cards are waterproof.”
We left from a basement door. It was late afternoon and there was a definite chill in the air. We had emerged from the dorm behind the Sphinx.
“I will take my leave of thee now,” Hatchet said. “I must search for my master.”
“You can take your leave as soon as you give me the stone,” Diesel said.
Hatchet feigned surprise. “Stone? What stone?”
“The Luxuria Stone,” Diesel said. “You would never have given it to Anarchy. She had no way of knowing if it was enchanted.”
“I never thought of that,” Hatchet said. “I swear, I don’t have the stone.”
Diesel grabbed Hatchet, turned him upside down, shook him, and the stone dropped onto the ground. It was a plain little brown rock, very similar to the first stone Diesel and I found.
“Make sure it’s enchanted,” Diesel said to me.
“I’d rather not touch it,” I said. “I’m not sure where he was storing it.”
“Give me a break,” Diesel said. “You’ve probably spent the last half hour walking on rat turds. Just pick the damn thing up.”
“It was in my tunic,” Hatchet said. “It wouldn’t easily fit elsewhere.”
I picked the stone up, and it hummed and vibrated in my hand and gave off heat. It wasn’t just enchanted. It was very enchanted. I’d only felt stored energy this strong in one other instance, and that was when I’d held the other SALIGIA Stone.
“It’s a SALIGIA Stone,” I said to Diesel. “I can’t tell if it’s Luxuria.”
Diesel set Hatchet on his feet. “Good luck finding Wulf. We’ll be in the Gap if you need us.”
“That was nice of you to offer help,” I said to Diesel.
“Not entirely. Anarchy has the tablet that always accompanies a stone. If she can translate the tablet, it’ll give her the name of another SALIGIA guardian. And we’ll be two steps behind in a race for that stone. I know nothing about Anarchy, except she might be Deirdre Early. Unfortunately, Early’s house burned down, so I have no clue where to find her. Wulf, on the other hand, seems to be connected to her in some way.”
We crossed Wheelock, walked past the Hopkins Center, The Hanover Inn, and turned onto Main Street. The Gap was on the left.
A couple heads turned when we walked in.
“Looks like you’ve been hiking the Appalachian Trail,” one of the
salesgirls said.
“Yeah, we slipped and fell in the river. We’re shopping for dry clothes.”
“Happens all the time,” the girl said.
I gathered together everything I needed, including a purse, and carted it all to the dressing room. I caught my reflection in the mirror on the way and my legs went rubbery. I looked worse than I’d imagined. New clothes would be a drop in the bucket. My face was filthy and my hair was freakshow.
Fifteen minutes later, Diesel and I walked out in nice dry clothes, our old clothes stuffed into plastic Gap bags.
Diesel was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a dark green cotton crew neck sweater with the sleeves pushed up.
“I like this look on you,” I said. “Casual and rugged but civilized.”
“I like your look, too,” he said. “Pretty. And I can see the outline of your nipples.”
We stopped in midstride on the sidewalk.
“Did I just say that out loud?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t want to tell you what was left unsaid, but ripping your clothes off is part of it.”
“It’s the Lust Stone,” I said. “Where’s the stone?”
“It’s in my jeans pocket.”
“That’s probably not a good location. Maybe you should put it in my new purse.”
He took the stone out of his pocket and handed it over. “It might not be the stone. I’ve been thinking these thoughts ever since I met you.”
I was glad he was attracted to me, but I was trying not to be overly flattered. I suspected Diesel wanted to rip the clothes off lots of women.
“What are we doing next?” I asked him.
“I thought we’d drop the bags off at the car, beyond that I don’t know. I feel like there are too many loose ends. I don’t like Anarchy wandering around above or below ground with the tablet.”
“And Wulf?”
“I think it’s odd he walked away from Hatchet when he knew Hatchet most likely had the stone.”
“Maybe he’s hurt. Maybe he got stung by a bee, or chased down the street by a bear, or crushed by a garbage truck.”
Diesel smiled.
“Or maybe he had a run-in with Anarchy and came out the loser,” I said.
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