Authors: E.M. MacCallum
Her.
He made it sound as if it were a living thing. “Another Egyptian thing?” I asked and handed the wooden doll over. The bright green eyes had a shine to them, making them appear as if they were following me.
I was glad when Aidan took it away.
Turning it over in his hand, he said, sounding numbed, “You think Robin could be in this thing?”
The twist in my stomach was so abrupt that I stiffened. “
What?
” It hadn’t even occurred to me, and I found myself shaking my head immediately. “She can’t be,” I blurted, fumbling for some explanation. “Damien said that they were all alive.”
“Of course,” he said, bitterness edging in. “Why would a demon lie?”
I thought of my friends. “When I asked if they were alive, he sounded like I should already know…”
“Dreams?” he asked.
I nodded. “You too?”
“Almost every night.”
“The hotel?”
“With the thing under the bed?”
I nodded, and we both looked to the wooden doll. The upside down teardrop shape flattened at the bottom, and Aidan gently stood her on the coffee table.
After a long stare, he turned her face away from us. “I might know what it is, but I’m not sure,” Aidan said.
“It looks kind of Egyptian,” I offered and looked to the big book in front of him.
Aidan’s eyes brightened. “There’s this place downtown called The Ancient Pawn. My parents used to go there. It was just an old antique store, but the owner had quite a few Egyptian-based items from when it was big in the 1920’s. Nothing authentic but I bet he’d know exactly what she is.”
“A clue, maybe?” I asked. “Related to this?” I pulled the red envelope out of my back pocket.
He shrugged. “Could be.” His pale eyes caught sight of what I held in my hand. “What is that?”
“Another message but this could be tricky.” I passed it to him. I explained about the library incident where the girl had grabbed my arm and told me to forget, then where I’d found the envelope.
Aidan stared at the word
elfelejt
for a long moment before asking numbly, as if he’d rather not, “Do you know what it means? Is it an anagram?”
“Not a clue. I think maybe it’s Hungarian.”
“What makes you say that?”
I’d thought long and hard on this one and only came to one conclusion. “My grandma on my dad’s side was Hungarian,” I said. “She used to speak it more than English but died when I was four.”
“And you know this because…” Aidan swallowed, looking uneasy. “Because of the dream?”
“Internet search, actually. Damien hinted that he hadn’t sent it. He said that when I found the black book then he was involved. I got that ankle thing just before I found the book.”
“
Ankh
,” he corrected.
Nodding dismissively, I continued. “But he denied knowing anything about the letter. Said it wasn’t the Demon’s Grave, but people just don’t…see things like that.”
Aidan frowned. “Nell did.”
“Ouch, Aidan.” I crossed my arms. “Same team, remember?”
“No, I just mean that maybe it’s a family thing. Weird things happened in the Grave but weird things with you especially.”
By then, you won’t be so worried about keeping your friends alive.
Damien’s words rippled through my memory, making me shudder. Seeing Aidan watch me, I nodded to allow him to continue, and his voice softened.
“Like how I’m supposed to be this Keeper person. I never knew about any of this until the Demon’s Grave. Tell me if I’m wrong, but is it possible that our friends are trying to tell us something? Something that only you or someone like Nell could pick up?”
That hadn’t even occurred to me.
My eyes roamed the room as I processed the weight of the words. Aidan was polite enough to wait as I twisted the bottom of my shirt. “…but how?”
He shook his head. “It’s not about the
how
, rather the
possibility
.”
I shrugged helplessly. “Anything is possible there, isn’t it?”
He was already nodding his approval. “Can I keep this?” He waved the envelope at me.
“Sure, if you think it’ll help with something.”
“Might be our friends trying to tell us something,” he said, turning it over in his hands.
Rummaging through the wood chips in the parcel, I stopped and glanced at Robin at the same time as Aidan. We were both thinking it; that was plain to see. What if the doll was from our friends too? Could they do it? Were they sending us those dreams so we wouldn’t forget?
I found the black book and showed it to him.
Slapping the large Egyptian book closed, he eased the black book from my fingers, careful not to touch skin. He set the
ankh
on top of the textbook and opened Nell’s notes.
Leaning forward in my seat, I said, “It’s called the Midnight Ruling.”
“What is?”
“The ceremony.” I tapped the edge of the book in his hand. “We got it, Aidan.”
He let out a long breath. “Jesus.”
My smile fell when I saw the dread in his expression. “What?”
He waved it off and reached for the book, which I passed over willingly. He flipped through it. “Yeah,” he said finally. “We got it. Are you ready for this, Nora?”
“No,” I said. “But I don’t think I could go on knowing that they’re left there.”
He sucked in his cheeks before sighing. “Me neither.”
“The rain is tomorrow,” I reminded.
“I know.”
I watched his face as he did everything in his power to avoid my gaze. “Aidan, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know already, Nora. Stop reminding me.”
The bluntness took me off guard. I immediately wanted to start an argument but closed my mouth before the words could escape. Aidan was always calm before, never this agitated. Even in the grave, he kept most of his composure.
“Okay,” I said.
“I think you should go. I need to get some things together,” Aidan said.
Standing, I smoothed out my shirt. “Guess I’ll see you later then,” I said, feeling deflated and disappointed.
He was ready to kiss me just yesterday, and today he almost felt hostile. Grabbing the ankh and the doll, I tucked them back into the box.
I paused one last time, giving him a chance to speak. I had wanted so badly to see him since yesterday, and now that I had, I regretted it. He didn’t want to go; that was plain to see. I didn’t either, but what were we supposed to do? Ignore everything?
I suppose we could. We could stay here and mourn our friends. They wouldn’t stay alive forever in there. We’d be damning them by changing our minds here. But here was so much better than there.
“Aidan?” I asked, my voice stinging with emotion.
He opened his mouth as if to answer me, his eyes roaming everywhere except on me. Reaching over, I snatched the black book from his hands, spinning on my heels before I could see his reaction.
I started for the door. “I’m doing this tomorrow, but you don’t have to come.” I didn’t turn and I didn’t look back as I reached the front door. I became more and more disappointed. I wanted him to run after me, to apologize or just to say something to stop me.
Could I do this alone?
The idea frightened the hell out of me, and I thought about ignoring everything. I could have a good life here. My family was safe. I was safe. Aidan was safe. I remembered how Phoebe barreled into the first Challenge and opened the wrong door. She disappeared behind that door, but if the dreams were true, that meant she’d survived, didn’t it?
The men who kidnapped Neive and me when we were young were also alive in the Demon’s Grave.
I suppressed a shudder.
“Nora?”
His voice made my entire body freeze. I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want him to see how much I needed him for this.
“Tomorrow night. I’ll meet you behind your house.”
I nodded, opening his front door.
Behind me, Aidan said, “I just have some goodbyes to make.”
I finally glanced back, hating myself for seeing his forlorn expression. “Me too,” I said. The weight of those words were like bricks, and after weak smiles of encouragement, I shut the door.
The rain started around four, softly at first, and then picked up around nine, blurring out the world.
That evening, I had supper with my mom and sisters—Dad was working late.
I helped with dishes and put both of my sisters to bed. I was certain I sparked some suspicion, but Mom still hadn’t forgiven me for finding the black book.
I tried to talk to her, knowing that I’d be leaving tonight, but she disappeared into her bedroom before I could.
With the house quieting near ten, I’d just have to hope Dad didn’t make it home soon. I doubted it, though. It was Friday. He was always extra late on Fridays. Dark clouds outside had created a haze, and the sharp smell of ozone promised a long night. As I sat at the kitchen table with the lights out, I hoped Mom would think that I’d gone to bed. My hands clasped tight in front of me, I stopped myself from checking the time on my phone again.
My raincoat, the Midnight Ruling, and all the essentials waited for me by the back door. I’d hoped we could take things with us to the Demon’s Grave. Aidan was bringing a first aid kit, flashlight, pocket knives, and a few random items.
Hail struck the window, drawing my attention from my thoughts.
A sense of dread began to ooze to the surface, and I did my best to numb it.
Gripping my cell phone tight enough to feel the edges pressing into bone, I eased out of my chair and crept to the back hallway. I looked out into the dark backyard, searching for headlights that weren’t there.
Not wanting to sit any longer, I slipped into the raincoat. Every crinkle made me pause, making the entire act painstakingly meticulous.
I could feel Dad’s old Swiss Army knife weighing down my left pocket. I knew he wouldn’t miss it, and I realized I wanted to take something of my family. I wanted a reminder of them. The thought, I realized, seemed so final.
I stuffed the twinge down with the dread and doubt, and looked myself over.
Beneath the crinkly raincoat, I wore a shirt, hoodie, and jeans. I knew jeans would be bad once they were soaked, but they’d provide more protection in the Grave.
My phone vibrated, and I could see headlights moving in the back alley.
Here goes nothing.
I snatched my umbrella from the wall and felt the rising jitters, making me feel nauseated. Under my breath, I whispered, hearing Phoebe’s voice in my head, “Keep it together, Fuller.”
Twisting the knob, I stepped into the brisk air, closing and locking the door behind me.
A motion-sensor light was near the back door, and I had to be careful as I sidled against the edge of the house. I didn’t dare open my umbrella until I reached the fence.
I moved, planning my next step instead of thinking of what would happen once I’d left the yard.
The raindrops were huge and cold, splattering on impact and then chilled by the wind.
I paused, searching for any signs of life in the kitchen window or the patio doors leading to the living room. My heart was jackhammering at the idea of being caught. If I were caught, I’d have to run. If I ran, they’d call the police, and it would just snowball from there.
In my distraction, I must have stepped just within the motion sensor’s radar.
The flash of light flooded the backyard, blinding me.
Panic knocked into me hard, and I scrambled for the fence. If it weren’t for the downpour, someone would have heard the crash as I ran into it.
Fumbling for the latch with freezing, stiff fingers, I flipped it up several times to get it to open. How the hell did I survive the Demon’s Grave? On the fourth try, the latch opened, and I staggered into the alley, not daring to look back. If I saw a light on or the hint of a face looking out, the nausea would win.
I shut the fence behind me unceremoniously, and it clanged shut, the latch knocking back in place.
The station wagon idled beside me, and I ducked inside.
Shutting the door, I looked to my partner.
Warmth tingled my cheeks and fingers; the heaters were cranked on account of the rain.
Aidan gave me a grim smile, and I returned it. He held out the red silken envelope with the word
elfelejt
written within.
I raised my eyebrows, and he shrugged.
Maybe we’d put all the pieces together once we were in the Grave.
Our ride out of the city and to the cemetery was a silent one. Instead of speaking, we gripped each other’s nervous, slick hands, squeezing now and then as if the reassurance could be transferred. Instead, I think we intensified the nervous energy as we drove through the cemetery’s wrought-iron gates. Despite having a gate, I never remembered them being closed during any of our visits when I was younger.
Lamps made the wet grass and most of the tombstones glitter as we passed.
I glanced behind to make sure no one was following. All around us, the world looked dark. The highway had the odd vehicle passing, but none slowed, and water sprayed everywhere.
Stopping the car, Aidan shut off the engine and plunged us into darkness. The nearest lamp was far away enough to hide the car in the shadows.
The rain and hail pelted the tin roof above, sounding volcanic. I cleared my throat to see if my own voice would be drowned, but it wasn’t.
Aidan motioned to the umbrella at my feet. “Good idea,” I said. “We can use it as a weapon when we get in too.”
“And here.” He reached behind his seat and passed me an empty margarine container.
At my confusion, he motioned to the cemetery. “To carry the mud. I don’t think we’ll need very much.”
“You thought of everything.” I looked down at the container.
“Well, almost,” he said. “I don’t have a shovel.”
With that, he flung open the car door, initiating the hunt for a small tombstone.
Before I could think about it, I shouldered open my door and snapped open the umbrella, which was large enough to fit us both beneath. I hurried to Aidan’s side and shoved the red envelope in my back pocket.