Five: Out of the Dark (34 page)

I told them about the leaves and the bones. They all looked at me with blank faces, so I explained.

“The bones made me think, what use would they be? Some medieval dark spell? A biology project? To eat? That led me to think about what animal would possibly be able to eat bones that big. Any guesses?”

They were all silent for a few seconds, then Johnathan snapped his fingers. “I knew I recognized that smell from somewhere! The Devil-hound I fought—its breath smelled like those rotting bones.”

I nodded. “Show us where that culvert is, John. I bet you breakfast in bed for life that’s where the portal took them.”

“Wait,” Seth said, “we need to summon Halli. She’ll lop all our heads off if we let her miss this.”

I felt terrible I’d forgotten about Halli in all the events of the last twenty minutes or so. I touched my necklace and sent the spell out. She’d be able to track where we were now that the lines were open between us. “We don’t have time to wait for her. She’ll have to catch up with us when she gets here.”

Johnathan took off at a lope and we followed him into the trees. He led us down a path to the small clearing where the kids had been partying the night of his run-in with the Devil-hound. You could see where the fire had been burning and there was still a pile of discarded boards lying near the fire pit. The kids hadn’t been back to their secluded party spot.

Johnathan continued without pausing, through the clearing and into the trees on the other side. There wasn’t even the semblance of a trail there. He pushed his way through the thick trees and bushes, breaking branches that barred his way. We followed at a safe distance so flying tree limbs didn’t whack us in the face.

The culvert wasn’t far from the fire pit area. It would be a tight fit for the boys, especially Johnathan, and I didn’t want to be stuck behind their slow-moving crawls. I jumped in front of Johnathan as he slowed in front of the opening and I dove into the culvert headfirst. The angle of the large plastic pipe was slight, at first, as it descended into the ground. I heard Johnathan growl at me when I dove into the dark tunnel—not the wolf-growl I’d heard so often as of late, but just a typical boy growl. Like an, “Ugh! Stupid girl” growl.

“Paige, what are you doing? Get out of there and let me go first!”

“Not gonna happen, John. Are you guys coming or what?” I continued the forward descent.

“Seriously, are you trying to make the vessels in my head explode?” Johnathan muttered.

I smiled and kept crawling. The descent grew steeper the farther in I crawled. My channeling rod, held before me, glowed with a blue
luminosity
spell. After about fifty yards, I no longer had to crawl—the angle steepened and I began to slide in the slimy muck that covered the bottom and sides of the culvert. I started wishing I’d gone in feet first. The pipe was too small to sit up or change positions, and trying to slow down using only my hands and arms was not at all effective.

I held onto the channeling rod with all my strength and closed my eyes and mouth tight to keep the muddy, slimy goo from splashing up into them. I was thankful for the head start the boys’ slow progress for the first fifty yards had given me—at least I didn’t have to worry about Johnathan plowing into me from behind.

At that point, when I realized I had no control over the speed of which I would go barreling into whatever or wherever the culvert ended, that I started to get scared. The anger I’d felt ever since Mr. Grewa’s class had melted away—you can hold onto the burning fire of anger for only so long before it either burns itself out or your internal organs ignite and your entire spirit is consumed in the flames. I guess I was lucky my rage just burned out. I was still plenty angry; it just wasn’t taking over my thoughts anymore. Anger had moved to the middle portion of my brain and apprehension of what lie ahead was quickly moving to the forefront.

The boys had reached the steeper section; I heard them barreling down behind me. I have no idea how long we raced toward our unknown destination—I wasn’t good with estimating distance under the best of circumstances, and this was for certain not the best of circumstances. I could tell Johnathan was gaining on me and hoped that the end of the tunnel wasn’t a
dead
end. It occurred to me as the boys slid closer that some culverts ended in a grate; the thought of being smashed against one by three large, fast-moving boys was not a pleasant thought at all.

I didn’t have much time to imagine the results of such a gruesome ending. The end came with a sudden change from a sharp angle to straight up and down. I flew headfirst out of the tunnel, fell five or six feet, and landed in about a foot of rancid water … and other stuff I’d rather not think about. I rolled to the side and stood. Miraculously, I still held the lighted channeling rod in my hand and I watched in the dim light as Johnathan splash-landed where I’d been just a second before.

He rolled just as I had—our hours of training were paying off—and I had to leap out of his way before he bowled right into me. That leap resulted in Johnathan missing me with his roll; however, I landed on something beneath the water and twisted my right ankle. I tried to stay upright, flailing my arms to keep my balance, but I fell anyway in what seemed like slow motion, and landed with my outstretched arms right on Johnathan’s gut. His breath came out in a whoosh of air. I scrambled off him as he sat up and tried to take a breath. The pain in my ankle burst into my foot and up my leg. Tendrils of burning embers attacked every nerve ending with pulsating flames. I breathed through the pain until it started to ebb.

Meanwhile, Seth and then Alec came shooting out of the tube above. Seth landed with a grunt and thankfully rolled the opposite direction from Johnathan and me. Alec sat up where he’d landed and, after realizing he’d lost his channeling rod in the fall, started crawling around in the water to try to find it.

“Are you okay, Paige?” Johnathan said as soon as he was able to breathe again.

“I twisted my ankle.”

“I’m so sorry. I should have rolled the other way.” He offered me his hand, then pulled me up.

I balanced on my good foot, not quite ready to test out the injured ankle. “There is nothing to apologize for, John. You had no way of knowing which direction I was. If anything, it’s my fault for not moving farther out of the way.”

His hand touching mine felt good, and I left it there for as long as he would let me—which wasn’t very long.

“Try putting some weight on it now,” he whispered, probably afraid we’d be heard by our enemies.

I was hoping for an element of surprise to help us when we found them, but I wasn’t counting on it as I was sure they would have alert spells set up around their hideout. They probably already knew we were there.

I lowered my right foot to the ground and put a tentative amount of weight on it. Pain shot up my leg and down into my foot and I hoped Johnathan couldn’t see me wince in the dim light. But, of course, he saw it. He had the eyesight of a night creature and he looked right at my face to gauge my reaction.

“Paige …” he began.

“It’s fine. I just need to
walk it off
, as you athletes are always saying.”

The first few steps were painful, but after a sloshing lap around the cavern, the pain subsided enough that I could walk at a normal pace with only a small limp.

“See?” I asked. “I’m fine. Now let’s get going.”

Johnathan narrowed his eyes with doubt. “What happens if we have to run?”

“I don’t plan on running from them … from
him
. I’ll stay and fight.”

Johnathan started to protest but I stopped him with a raised hand. “I will not stay behind, Johnathan. We’re wasting precious time talking about a moot point.” I limped toward the only tunnel.

He and the others had no choice but to follow. Alec found his channeling rod after he crawled around in the disgusting water and finally remembered he could
call
it to his hand—something we’d practiced almost daily.

The tunnel was tall enough for all of us to stand upright in, although Johnathan’s head nearly touched the cement ceiling. The water on the tunnel floor slowly decreased until there was only a trickle that ran down the very center. The fusty smell of mold and decay receded the further along we went. I wasn’t allowed to be in the lead for long; I’d taken only a few steps when Johnathan nudged his way past me and put himself on point.

“Hey, guys, stop for a second,” Seth whispered.

Johnathan halted and we all turned to face Seth, who brought up the rear.

“Shouldn’t we put a noise suppression spell at least on our feet? So they don’t hear us coming?”

“Good idea, Seth,” Alec and Johnathan said. I nodded agreement.

We probably should have already thought of that, but we’d never been on the offensive side of monster hunting. Always before we’d found ourselves reacting to a situation we’d stumbled upon—even those situations that occurred because of our now-suspended nightly rounds about Seattle and its neighboring communities.

We all took a moment to cast the spell about our feet. It was a peculiar thing to know we were walking and yet were unable to hear our own footfalls. Johnathan stopped abruptly a few yards later. We all came to a halt behind him. He put a finger to his mouth and then cupped an ear to tell us he heard something.

Soon, the rest of us were able to hear muffled voices echoing down the cement walls. We weren’t able to make out what was being said until we’d gone another fifty yards or so. Up until that point, we’d seen nothing but the tunnel walls surrounding us.

Johnathan looked back at us and pointed to his right. There was a windowless door there. The sound came from up ahead, though, so we walked past without investigating. We passed several more of the doors on our left and right before the tunnel split into a Y. Johnathan listened at each of the tunnels before proceeding down the one to his left. We could see to the end of it where there was another door. This one was slightly ajar, and faint light poured from the opening.

We stopped and listened. Now we could hear the conversation that was taking place. I opened my
sight
for a few seconds to check for any wards—I saw only a quickly constructed alarm ward that we would trip as we came close to the door. I closed the window to my
sight
and listened to the exchange beyond the partially opened door.

“I’ll drink it, I’ll drink it! Just don’t hurt him anymore, please!” It was Chari. She sobbed, near hysteria.

The anger I thought had burned itself out? Apparently there was still an ember of it inside me and it flamed up into a full-fledged bonfire at the sound of Chari’s desperate plea.

“No Chari, don’t,” Brendon choked out.

“Shut up Mr. Becker. Your little girlfriend has made a wise choice.” Jorgenson’s voice drifted down the tunnel.

“I’ll drink it … but first I want to know why? What do you get from this, Mr. Jorgenson? What’s your purpose here?” Chari asked.

Jorgenson laughed. “You are in no position, young lady, to make any demands. However … as it appears that your
friends
have failed to come to your rescue, I will answer your questions just so you and your boyfriend know what fate might possibly be in store for you.

“Mr. Davis and I
invented
this amazing liquid with a specific need in mind. You see, dear girl, I am a Warlock and Mr. Davis over there is my apprentice—among other things. I have worked alone for more than a hundred years and have decided that my goals will be better met if I am able to form a dark coven—with me as the leader, of course.

“I don’t want just
anyone
to be in my coven, however, and that is where our ingenious potion comes into play. Its main purpose is to
weed out
, if you will, the weak. We’ve discovered a most helpful side effect, too—we’ve been able to detect those with even the slightest penchant for magic. When the monsters induced by the potion present to the partaker, if the partaker has any magical abilities, they tend to use them in defense.

“Granted, I’ve found very few of those, but that was just a lucky side effect. The
weeding-out
process is very simple—either you survive your initial dose with your mind intact. Or, you don’t.”

“I’m guessing that those who survive are
recruited
into your little
coven
, then?” Brendon spat.

We stayed still out in the tunnel. This was good information, and Chari and Brendon seemed to be safe as long as Jorgenson was busy gloating.

“You say you’re a Warlock. Shouldn’t you be using a cauldron or something to brew your special potions, instead of that
thing
?” Chari asked with derision.

“Oh, my dear, cauldrons are
so
nineteenth-century. Only those who don’t care about oppression choose to keep to the old ways.

“To answer your question, Brendon, yes, the survivors are
asked
to join me. Those who choose to are taken under my protection and tutelage … those who choose not to still end up serving me, just not in the same capacity. See Lucifer over there? He used to be a student at your school, a strong one, a defiant one. Now he serves me as a witless Devil-hound—all brawn, no brains—and no agency to make his own choices.”

“And, you care nothing about those whose minds you’ve destroyed. Those whose lives have ended.” Chari wasn’t asking a question, just stating an obvious fact. I had a feeling she was employing the same tactic I’d seen her employ in Mrs. C.’s class, where she would get her talking about a favorite subject until, before we knew it, class was over and a quiz was averted. In other words, she was stalling.

“Unfortunate collateral damage, I’m afraid it can’t be helped,” his voice dripped with mock concern. “Now, shall we get on with it? I have a feeling that you, at least, will be a strong one. Your boyfriend … well, we’ll see about him.”

I tensed my muscles, ready to spring, as did the boys.

“Wait, you still didn’t answer my question. Why? Why do you need to build a coven?” Chari asked.

“I suppose we can tell her, huh Mr. Davis? Since she will shortly be joining our forces?”