by Ally Carter
“Is that a foot?” Noah points to a huge stone. There are fingers, and long, massive pieces that are probably broken arms and legs. The hill has tried to reclaim it, but from this vantage point we can clearly see the statue’s base.
“Why would someone tear it down?” Rosie asks.
Lila shrugs. “False idols and all that, I guess. But if you ask me, they didn’t want someone else sneaking up and stealing Adria from them after they went to so much trouble to steal it from the Turks or the Mongols or whoever it was they stole it from in the first place.”
Lila and I share a look. We could tell them about the knights and the angel that guided the Grace through the storm. We’ve both heard the same story, but it’s one that I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to tell.
“No wonder people say this place is haunted,” Rosie says. Then, undeterred, she turns, ready to get back to business.
Slowly, we pair off. Megan and Lila start toward the rocky cliffs at the far side of the island. Rosie and Noah comb the beach.
“I guess that leaves us,” Alexei tells me.
Together, we start toward the trees.
I know exactly where I’m going. My feet move on their own. The sun burns above us, but its light is fractured as it cuts through the trees, shifting, swirling. I’m inside a kaleidoscope, I have to think as I make my way toward the clearing.
I close my eyes and try to remember it as it was that night. There was music in the distance. Shadows played across the forest floor. But in the light of day, I see the details that were invisible then, especially as I stare up at the high structure that disappears inside a rocky hill.
“Wow,” Alexei says. “It’s … bigger than I thought.”
The stones of the structure itself are staggered, so it looks almost like a pyramid built into the hillside, so utterly out of place among the trees and crawling vines, the thick bushes that almost swallow one side of it whole. From the air, you’d never even see it, and I know now how this place has remained almost a total secret for so long.
As I creep closer I see flowers and smell honeysuckle — see a piece of a hand coming out of the ground, as if Neptune is trying to wrench a sword free from the flowers and the vines. It feels like I’m stealing into some ancient burial ground and if we disturb anything the giant is going to wake.
But a part of me swore I’d never wake a sleeping giant ever again. That’s why I’m careful as I head toward the place where Spence and I stood not long ago. The emblem is right where I remember it, so much clearer in the light of day.
“What is that?” Alexei is right behind me. I can feel his chest against my back as he leans closer to see.
“I don’t know,” I lie.
He’s too close.
We’re back at the place where it happened — the kiss, the argument. The fight. And it’s like we’re both only just realizing it.
“Grace.” Alexei’s breath is warm on the back of my neck.
When I turn, he’s just right … there. I don’t even have to reach out to touch him.
“I didn’t mean it,” I say.
“What?”
“The kiss. Kissing Spence. He was here and he seemed like he liked me and I thought maybe he did like me. He was just … new. He didn’t know me. So I thought that maybe …”
“You thought that no one who does know you could possibly like you.” Alexei is still too close. He sees too much.
“What I’m saying, Alexei, is I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
Everything is my fault.
“If I hadn’t kissed Spence — or let Spence kiss me — then you wouldn’t have fought with him and there wouldn’t be any stupid videos online and you wouldn’t have to live in a cave for the rest of your life.”
Then Alexei does the strangest thing.
He laughs.
“Oh, Gracie.” He leans closer, takes my face in his hands and looks straight into my eyes. “I am fairly certain the cave is temporary.”
I hit him in the chest. “You know what I mean!” I say, but Alexei just laughs harder.
He glances at the massive overgrown fortress behind us.
“Now. Are we going in there or aren’t we?”
It takes a half hour to find the entrance. It’s covered by brush and vines. But here, at last, there are signs of life. The vines are crushed, like they’ve recently been pushed aside. And maybe it’s my imagination, but in the dirt I can almost swear that I see footprints.
“Spence?” Alexei asks.
“Maybe,” I say. “I doubt the police would have looked here very hard. Spence was a pretty big guy. If he’d been killed here, it would have been hard for him to end up in the water.”
I squeeze through the vines and step inside, dragging my leg after me. A moment later, Alexei follows. I can feel him at my back as my eyes adjust to the dark. It’s still the hottest day of the year so far, but inside the narrow opening, the air is so much cooler, darker. Dust dances in the slim rays of light that slice through the darkness beyond the entrance. But it’s too dim to see much, so I reach into my pocket for the flashlight I always carry. The light slashes across the space. I watch it sweep across the ancient walls. Moss grows between the cracks in the mortar. The stone floor beneath my feet is dirty and damp. And in it I see footprints, too big to be my own.
Alexei’s gaze catches mine, and I can almost hear what he is thinking. Probably because I’m thinking it, too. And so we follow those footsteps into the shadows, no matter where they might lead.
It’s not a tunnel. Not really. I know I’m not underground, at least not yet. It’s more like a corridor made of stone. Only tiny slivers of light cut through the darkness. Moss and vines creep through the cracks. I see signs of wildlife, too. Probably some small animals have nested here, but there is no other living thing inside the passage now. No movement. No sound. Alexei and I are alone as we walk on and on.
We’re inside the hill by now; we have to be. We’ve been walking for too long, and it’s too dark — too quiet.
Then the passage ends, opening into some kind of chamber or room. All I know is that the air feels different here. When I try to sweep the beam of my flashlight across the walls, the beam stretches then fades, reaching out so far that it doesn’t find an end.
“What is this place, Alexei?”
He says something in Russian, low and under his breath. Then he mutters, “I have no idea.”
Carefully, we go on. When the beam flashes across a giant urn I inch forward. It’s stone, but the interior is black. I rub my finger along the inside and realize it’s coated with soot.
Alexei looks at me. “This is where they used to light their fires,” he explains.
I walk forward, down a wide staircase onto the sunken floor. My light catches other urns. Some stone pedestals that look like places where ancient pillars might have crumbled. I point my light up and see mosaics covering the ceiling above us, catching the light, and I just know in my gut that it is inlaid with gold.
Alexei cranes his head upward, following the light. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
I have, but I can’t say so.
Alexei looks at me. I can feel his gaze through the darkness. Our hands brush.
“Grace!” Alexei points in the dim light, so I flash the beam across the dusty floor, past cracks in the stone and plants that grow, even in the darkness. “Grace, are those …” I follow Alexei’s gaze, and then my light catches them.
“Footprints. Spence?” I ask.
“Who else?” Alexei shrugs.
Neither of us asks how a West Point cadet could have died here and ended up in the sea. Neither of us worries that in the dark there might be nothing we can find. We just ease forward, following in the footsteps of a dead man.
There are vines overhead. A bird squawks and I jump, suddenly grateful Alexei’s beside me.
“Don’t leave me in here, okay?” he asks, grinning and taking my hand. �
��This place is freaking me out.” In Alexei’s Russian accent, that sounds almost funny, and I can’t help but smile.
“Don’t worry, tough guy. I’ll protect you.”
We cross the massive room, following the footsteps until, as if by magic, they disappear. There’s a wall ahead. A dead end. I turn quickly, sweeping the beam of my light across the floor, but I can’t see where the feet might have retreated. Maybe they did, walking on the section of floor that isn’t as dusty. Or maybe …
I step away from the wall and look at it from a new angle.
“Okay,” Alexei says. “I suppose this is a dead end. I’m sorry, Gracie.”
I can feel him turning, backing away, but I can’t stop looking at the wall. I can’t stop thinking Spence was here. I know it. I can feel it. He was too intrigued when I saw him outside, and, according to Jamie, he wore his grandmother’s necklace every day of his life. He wasn’t the type to turn back just because something looked to be off-limits.
He came here.
And then he ended up dead.
“Gracie,” Alexei says. I can feel his hand on my arm. “We should go find the others. Perhaps they have had better luck.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not yet.”
I start in the upper-left-hand corner of the wall and slowly sweep my light across it, moving in a gridlike pattern. I cover every inch. Every brick. Every loose piece of mortar and —
The mortar is loose, here in the right-hand corner. I step forward, reach out to touch the stones the way I’ve seen Ms. Chancellor do, pressing and pulling.
“Gracie, please. It doesn’t look stable. We should go.”
I know Alexei is looking at me like I’m a crazy person. I can hear it in the way he says my name. But it’s too late for looking crazy to bother me.
“Just a second. I think maybe …” The stones are turning, they’re easing into position, and a moment later, the floor shakes a little. The wall moves, sliding aside, revealing an empty space of echoing darkness, but as soon as I shine my light upon the floor I see more footprints.
Alexei is mumbling something that I think must be the Russian equivalent of Oh my freaking goodness.
But I don’t stop to think or reason, I just follow the footsteps to the other side of the wall, where there is nothing but blackness. The air feels different here — fresher. Even though the walls on either side of me are closer and the room feels smaller, when I shine my light forward it stretches out farther and farther and I know we’re not even close to the end.
“Gracie, we shouldn’t be here,” Alexei says, but even his voice is filled with wonder.
I turn my light upward and see that even here the ceiling is covered with images, faded but clear. In the first, a king is surrounded by six knights, each of them bowing before him, offering their swords.
“Look at that one,” Alexei says.
I cast my light over an image that looks vaguely familiar. It’s the room we just left, I realize, but it’s filled with piles of gold. Rubies, emeralds, and pearls overflow from chests, spilling out onto the floor.
Treasure.
Even though we’re standing still, my heart has started to pound too hard. The light shakes as my hand trembles.
“They almost look real,” Alexei says as the gems in the pictures catch the light, gold shining, diamonds glowing. A cold dread grips me.
“I think they are real,” I say, and just that quickly … I know.
We aren’t supposed to be here.
Spence wasn’t supposed to be here.
The last person who came to this place looking for treasure died, and it doesn’t matter that he ended up miles away from here — I know it isn’t safe.
“Gracie, I think we’d better get out of —”
But before Alexei can finish, we hear it: a faint scraping, the sound of small rocks being ground into dirt as something heavy moves across an ancient floor.
We spin in time to see that the wall is moving again, closing, locking us in. Alexei races toward the entrance, but he and I have wandered farther inside than we realized, and even with his long strides, I know that it’s too late.
A second later the wall closes, trapping us inside the black.
“No!” I yell, as if that can make the wall open again.
There must be a trigger, I think. I pray. But the wall is almost solid stone, and on this side the pieces of the puzzle aren’t moving, aren’t working. If there’s a trigger to open the door I can’t find it, and as my hands move over the stones, I feel my fingers scrape — my hands bleed. Panic blooms inside me.
“No,” I say, almost to myself. “No. No. No.”
Darkness surrounds us. I realize too late that I’ve dropped my flashlight, and it’s started to roll away, faster and faster. The floor must slope downward, because the flashlight is picking up steam, and a new kind of panic fills me.
I jump to my feet and race across the floor, chasing after the rolling beam of light.
Then the beam flashes across … nothing.
I can sense as much as see the flashlight teeter, tipping, falling away, but I dive, sliding through the dust and the dirt, and grasp the end just as it falls over the edge of the cliff.
And then it hits me: We’re on the edge of a cliff.
It’s not a long room or a corridor; it’s a dead end, and I can feel myself slipping, sliding. I claw against the air as if I can propel myself backward, but then Alexei’s arms are around me, jerking me back into the safety of his chest.
“I got you.” Alexei breathes against my temple. “You’re safe. You’re well.”
We aren’t well. We’re trapped, and I know it.
Behind us, there’s an ancient doorway that is closed. Locked. In front of us is a sharp drop to nowhere.
Only then do I feel the real blackness descending.
My breath comes too hard. Even though my flashlight is bright in the total darkness, I can feel my field of vision starting to close in. My heart is pounding too hard inside my chest. It’s going to burst free and I’ll never be able to stop the bleeding.
“Grace.” Alexei’s voice is too far away. “Gracie!”
Alexei has seen me have an attack before, so I don’t even bother being embarrassed. What use would that be when I know I’m going to die here on this dirt floor in a place where no one besides Spence has been in decades? Maybe centuries.
Our friends are on the island. Our friends will eventually miss us, I know it in my head. But in my gut I know that they may never find this room. They may never open the door. This place that looks and feels so much like a tomb is going to serve as ours, I’m just certain.
And that’s when I begin to rock. I try to slow my breathing. I try to tell myself that there’s no reason to panic. Not yet. I have to think. I have to move. I have to fight.
The door behind us is closed, locked. In front of us there’s a sharp cliff and a long way down — into what, I do not know. I may be the girl who jumped off the great wall of Adria, but even I have my limits.
“If we die,” I say, not knowing where the thought comes from, “it’ll kill Jamie.”
“There’s a way out, Gracie. There has to be. And we’re going to find it.” Alexei turns with my flashlight and starts scanning the space. In front of us, there’s nothing but a sheer cliff and an expanse of black. The secret door and hidden chamber must lead into some kind of massive cavern, and we are standing on a ledge so high that we’ll never find our way down, so Alexei turns back to the way we came. The light plays over the walls and the ceiling, the dusty, cold stone floor.
“Wait!” I yell, just as Alexei freezes. Something small and white lies in the dirt — something decidedly man-made and a few thousand years out of place.
“What is that?” Alexei asks.
“It’s a phone.” I crawl toward the wall and pick it up.
“Is it Spence’s?”
“No,” I say, examining the ARMY cell phone cover that I got my brother for Christmas. “I
t’s Jamie’s. He told me he lost it the night of the party.”
Frantically, I try turning the phone on. It comes to life, almost fully charged, but of course there is no signal here, so far from the mainland and locked in this place so dark and deep.
“Has Jamie been here?” Alexei sounds amazed, and for a moment I’m confused. Then I remember.
“No. Spence was wearing Jamie’s jacket. It must have fallen out of the pocket when he was down here. That’s why Jamie couldn’t find it even after … It wasn’t on Spence’s body.”
For the first time, my panic wanes. Breath comes easier now, and I feel steady, certain.
We found Spence’s body. We saw it wash up on the beach. So, one way or another, Spence made it out of this dark chamber. The only question is how.
“If Spence was here,” I say, looking up at Alexei, “then he made it out.”
I take back the flashlight and crawl on my knees, inching toward the sharp edge of the cliff. My light plays across the stone on the far side of the huge ravine, thinking there might be some other passage. Maybe there’s a bridge.
And then I see it: a staircase. It’s rickety and ancient — the stairs just a few inches wide — but they’re there. And they stretch, spiraling, leading to whatever lies below.
Alexei and I move slowly, practically inching our way around and around and around. But with every step, the air gets fresher, clearer. It’s boiling hot outside, but in here the air is almost chilly, and a low, rumbling hum grows louder the lower we go.
“Do you hear that?” I ask. Alexei glances back at me.
“Water?” he says, and I nod.
Eventually, we see the underground river that runs through the bottom of the massive cavern. The water is black and it feels like we’re about to reach the River Styx, but we don’t have the luxury of being afraid of what lies on the other side.
“If someone built the stairs, then they have to go somewhere. Right?” I look at Alexei, who flashes me his most boyishly charming smile.
“Of course.”
This is Alexei trying to be so positive — so overwhelmingly charismatic — that I forget to be afraid. And it might be working. Maybe. Just a little bit.
