Chapter 19

19

I ran as fast as I could down the street, pausing every now and then to bend over the sea wall and scan the beach for any signs of movement. The dark was deep and velvety down on the beach. The noise and commotion of the festival were just a faint echo now, kept at bay by the wind that was whipping in off the water. The houses and restaurants that faced the water were all dark as well, their windows blank and empty, looking like jack-o-lanterns whose candles had been blown out. Everyone was at the festival.

No. Not everyone. A single square of golden light hovered over the shore in the distance, like a moon who didn’t know what shape she should be. It hung too high to be one of the squat cottages that lined that stretch of beach, and that meant it came from the Manor. I jogged toward it, knowing that it marked the southernmost border of Sedgwick Cove. As I drew closer, I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted Eva and Zale to let them know what was happening. It was a desperate action—they’d never see it. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever see anything again. Whatever the spell was that had been triggered by the pageant had been powerful—a fever dream. I didn’t really have a hope that a text would somehow find its way through to them. Still, maybe when it wore off… if it wore off. Tears began pricking the corners of my eyes.

“Wren?”

I yelped at the sound of my own name, spinning on the spot to see where it had come from. Nova was walking down the front steps of the Manor toward me. I’d never been so relieved to see anyone in my life.

“Nova!”

“Making a run for it already? I told you that pageant is borderline torture.”

I broke into a jog again, and as I got closer, I finally reached another streetlamp. Whatever that light revealed playing across my face was enough for Nova.

“Wren, what’s going on? Why aren’t you at the festival?”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears. As I stumbled to a stop in front of her, I sank to my knees, out of breath and out of hope.

“Wren? Wren! Hey, what happened?” Nova asked, dropping into a crouch and putting a tentative hand on my shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No. No, I’m n-not okay,” I replied, the words catching on the sobs that kept ripping their way up my throat. I struggled to catch my breath, while Nova patted me awkwardly on the back, looking alarmed. “It’s the pageant… something happened…”

With many starts and stops, I managed to explain what I’d witnessed at the festival —how the words of the pageant had acted as a sort of incantation, and how every member of Sedgwick Cove’s magical community seemed to be in its thrall.

“Hmmm… it sounds like an enchantment. It needs a powerful incantation.”

“There was no incantation! Not that I heard. They just… performed the words on the…” My voice trailed off as a fresh horror took root.

“I don’t understand. We’ve been using that same stupid script for like a million years,” Nova said. “How could it possibly enchant anyone?”

“It’s not the same script,” I whispered. “There was a book… a very old book, about Litha. It had a poem in it, and Zale decided he wanted to use that instead.”

Nova groaned. “Oh my God, was he out of his mind? He should know better than to use something he found in a book! Where did he find it?”

“It… it was me. I found it. In the bin of old costumes and stuff,” I said. “I had no idea what it was… no one seemed concerned.”

“Well, they should have been! Words have power, and using words when you don’t know their source or their intention?” She shook her head, looking uncharacteristically grave.

Guilt was squirming inside me like a living thing, but I pushed it down. There was no time to dwell on how this was, apparently, all my fault. “It’s not just that the whole damn town is under a spell, Nova,” I said, and explained about Bea.

Nova frowned again. “But why wasn’t she under the spell? That doesn’t make sense at all. She’s a witch, too.”

Impatience was swelling inside me. “Nova, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything! I’m surrounded by spells and enchantments and glamours, and I don’t know how any of it works! All I know is that Bea went with the Gray Man, and I need to find her!”

Nova bit her lip. “Sorry. I’ll help you.” She jumped to her feet and held out a hand. “Let’s go.”

I took her outstretched hand gratefully, and got to my feet. It wasn’t until I’d given in to my fear that I realized how tired my body was. My legs shook under me as I tried to stand up, my muscles fatigued and aching with the effort of the chase.

“Thank God you were grounded,” I gasped. “How did you see me coming?”

“I’ve been sitting on the porch listening to the music coming from Main Street, and I spotted you stumbling toward the house. I thought you were a drunk tourist at first.”

“But you didn’t see Bea or the Gray Man?”

“No, there hasn’t been a soul on the beach or the road that I’ve seen.”

I swore under my breath. “They must have gone the other way.”

“Well, then let’s follow them!” Nova said.

At that moment, my phone buzzed, and I fumbled it out of my pocket.

“It’s Luca,” I muttered.

“Luca? Luca Meyers?” Nova asked, eyebrows raised.

But I was already answering. “Luca?”

“Wren, I saw her!”

“You did? Where is she?” I gasped.

“How the hell is Luca Meyers involved in this?” Nova persisted, but I waved my hand impatiently at her. I didn’t have time for stupid questions, not with how much time we’d wasted already.

Luca’s voice was cutting in and out, so I was only catching every third word.

“That… girl… you…name… I saw… the theater… inside…”

“Luca, I can barely understand you, what?—”

“…in the playhouse…”

The call dropped. I turned to Nova.

“I think he said she went in the playhouse.”

“You told him what happened?” Nova looked aghast.

“No, I only told him that Bea had run off. He had just seen her and offered to help me look.”

“But he’s not supposed to know about?—”

“Nova, there was no one else!” I shouted. “Everyone who can help us is enchanted!”

Nova bit her lip and then said, “Screw it. Let’s go. If Xiomara has to whip up something to make him forget some shit, so be it.”

I nodded, and turned to start running again, but Nova caught my sleeve. “Wren, it’s like two miles to the playhouse. Let’s take the car.”

I hesitated. “Are you allowed to?—?”

“No, of course not, but I’m already grounded, so who the hell cares?!” Nova snapped, starting to sound like herself again. I didn’t bother arguing, and just took off after her in the direction of her driveway.

Within moments, we were speeding along Harbor Street entirely too fast. Nova’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as we screeched around the curves. I was too terrified for Bea to have any room left for fear over our speed. All I could think was that it was still taking too long, that anything could have happened to Bea by now.

At last, the playhouse came into view around the curve of the road. Nova swung the car across two parking spaces, and had barely shifted it into park before I threw my door open, and started pelting toward the playhouse’s main entrance. Nova caught up with me just as I tried the door handles.

“It’s locked,” I said.

“Where’s Luca?” Nova asked.

“I don’t know,” I grunted, still tugging fruitlessly at the door handles.

“There’s another door around this side,” Nova said. “It’s where they load in the sets and stuff. Come on.” She grabbed my hand, and pulled me away from the doors, and through the grass to the side of the building. The outdoor security lights were on where the huge double doors stood at the base of a long driveway. I felt my pulse quicken at the sight of the lights. If they were motion-activated, that meant someone had come this way. We skidded to a halt in front of the doors, and Nova put a restraining hand on my arm. She put her finger to her lips. I nodded.

I tried the handle, and it turned easily in my hand. I pushed it slowly, cringing as the hinges gave a prolonged squeal; but though we stood for several seconds, listening, we were met with only silence. Nova pulled out her cell phone, and turned on the flashlight as we crept into the darkened hallway.

Could Bea really have ventured through this dark, creepy hallway? Not by her own volition, I decided, with a quickening pulse. The thought of how scared she must be spurred me further into the building. Amorphous shapes lined the walls, and though I knew they were likely just random set pieces and props being loaded in for the next production, I couldn’t help but cringe away from them. I wished I knew this place the way I knew the theater back in Portland, where I’d memorized every nook and cranny, every pulley and rope and ladder. I’d have felt so much more confident maneuvering around in the dark. Where the hell was Luca? He knew this place inside and out. He’d know where to look. Maybe he was already in here somewhere. Did I dare try to call him? What if the sound of the phone alerted the Gray Man to my presence? But before I could make a decision on whether we should try to stay hidden, Nova decided for me.

“Bea?” she called out. “Bea, are you here?”

Her voice expanded like an explosion through the building, echoing and re-echoing in the cavernous spaces that lined both sides of the hallway. We shone our light into each doorway, revealing a woodshop, a prop shop, and a half dozen storage and rehearsal rooms. Each appeared to be completely empty, and though Nova continued to call her name, Bea didn’t appear. Finally, we reached the end of the hallway, a dead end. To the left, a staircase led up to the main level of the building, where the stage and lobby were located. To the right was another door, this one marked “custodial supplies,” which was partially open. Nova walked over and pulled the door wide, flashing her light around inside.

“Empty,” she replied. “Now what?”

“Upstairs, I guess?” I whispered, biting at my lip. “Maybe she’s not here at all. I couldn’t really hear what Luca was saying. He mentioned the playhouse, but?—”

We both froze as a voice called my name. It was distant—if we hadn’t been whispering, I was sure we wouldn’t have heard it at all.

“Was that… that wasn’t Bea,” Nova mouthed, barely making a sound.

I shook my head. It hadn’t been a child’s voice; I was sure of that.

“Wren!”

Nova and I both jumped, and Nova’s hand shot out to grab my wrist. We both looked toward the closet she had just searched.

“Did that just come from…”

Nova swallowed hard. “I think so.”

We both crept back to the door of the closet, and Nova raised her phone again in a trembling hand, shining it into every corner of the tiny room. Shelves full of cleaning products, a floor polisher, a mop dangling limply over the edges of a bucket.

“What the hell?” Nova whispered. “Where’s it coming from?”

As we stared, mystified, into the tiny space, we heard my name again, faintly, and there was no doubt it was coming from the supply closet, but how? Nova, her expression determined, stalked back into the closet and began shoving things aside.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We both heard it, Wren. It’s coming from this room. There has to be… ha!” Nova turned to me, triumphant, her finger pointing into the corner of the room. Low on the wall, below the bottommost shelf of cleaning products, was a vent. It was small and about two foot by two foot square, set flat into the wall. As we moved closer, dropping to our knees in front of it, we heard my name again, more distinctly this time; and there was no arguing the point anymore: the sound was definitely coming from that vent.

Nova and I threw each other one wary look before scooting forward in tandem to examine the vent. I ran my fingers along the edges, probing.

“There are screws missing here,” I said, pointing to the top and bottom right corners.

“See if you can open it!”

I bit my lip. “This just doesn’t make sense. Why in the world would Bea come to this theater, open a custodial closet, and climb into a vent?” I asked.

“She probably didn’t. There must be another way to… wherever that vent leads. But do you really want to keep wasting time searching the building for it?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what to do! I’m just afraid that…” But my voice died in my throat as the flashlight beam reflected off something on the ground, next to my left knee. I plucked it from the floor of the closet with trembling fingers, and held it up. Nova shone her flashlight on it so that we could both see it properly.

It was a bead. A shiny, cobalt blue bead, from the end of one of Bea’s braids.

“Wren!”

My mind was churning, so full of Bea that it took me a moment to realize that it was Luca’s voice I was hearing. It sounded panicked. There was no more time to deliberate or reason. It was time to do something, and damn the consequences.

I dug my fingernails between the vent and the wall, and tugged. I put more force into it than was necessary, and fell onto my backside with a huff of surprise as the vent cover swung easily out from the wall. Nova trained her light on the opening, and we saw a silver metal vent extending forward, disappearing into darkness.

“Hecate preserve us; we’re climbing down that thing, aren’t we?” Nova muttered.

“We sure are,” I replied.

A grin flitted over Nova’s face. “After you,” she said.

I was too anxious to retort. Besides, I was the one who had enlisted her help, not the other way around. It was my name echoing up from the gloom. I should be the one to go first. I heaved in a deep breath and, before I could talk myself out of it, shoved my head and shoulders through the opening of the vent. I slid in easily, though there wasn’t much room on either side of me. It was also stiflingly hot. I didn’t think I was claustrophobic, but I was definitely about to test that theory. I scooted forward on my stomach in a sort of army crawl, my hands clasped in front of me.

“Here.” Nova’s arm snaked in beside me, and handed me the phone. I took it gratefully, holding it out in front of myself, and swinging it right to left in the narrow space to get a better look. The vent itself was coated in dust except for a wide, shiny stripe down the middle.

“Someone’s been down here recently,” I said. “The dust has been disturbed.”

“We must be on the right track then,” Nova said. “Keep going!”

I inched forward, alternating my elbows to propel myself. Once I had managed to get my whole body inside, I heard Nova crawl in after me, cursing quietly.

“Holy shit, it’s hot! Where does this thing empty out, the ninth circle of hell?” she hissed.

“Let’s hope not,” I whispered in reply.

Inch by inch, we moved forward, the flashlight beam jerking and swinging with my movements. I had no concept of how far we’d traveled, thinking it couldn’t have been more than thirty or forty feet before the vent suddenly widened. We saw another, smaller vent to the left, through which the hot air seemed to be pumping. Once we had passed it, gasping with the intensity of the heat, the metal on all sides gave way to damp stone that sloped gently downward. The heat we’d felt in the first part of the vent began to dissipate as we descended, slipping a little on the dampness of the stone, which increased as the passage became colder and clammier. Soon, we were barely able to keep ourselves from sliding straight down into the darkness. I had to brace my hands and feet against the walls to slow my progress. I panted with the effort, terrified that I’d lose my grip and go barreling down the passage, and right into the arms of waiting danger. Behind me, Nova was making quiet sounds of distress as she, too, tried to control her progress down the passage.

Suddenly, as I shifted my weight to ease a cramp in my leg, my shoe lost its purchase, and I tumbled downward. My hands scrabbled desperately against the walls for a handhold, but I found none, and landed with a gasp and a thump on the floor. A squeal of alarm was the only warning I got before Nova slid down as well, and landed in a crumpled heap right on top of me.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” she asked, in a voice that was little more than a breathless whisper.

“I’m fine,” I lied, as I crawled out from under her, wincing.

Nova fumbled for a moment with her phone, which had landed on the ground beside us. The space in which we found ourselves was dimly illuminated. It was a small, round chamber—I could have reached out with both arms and touched the walls on either side of me simultaneously. The ceiling was unexpectedly high; how far had we descended? I was too panicked and sore to try to estimate the distance, but I knew we were well underground. The thought only made me more anxious. This was a theater, for goodness sake. Why the hell did it have a creepy subterranean passage? As though she had read my thoughts, Nova whispered in my ear.

“What is this place?”

“I have no idea, but if the Gray Man brought Bea here, I’m sure it’s not anything good,” I replied, my voice barely more than a breath.

Directly across from where we had spilled out of the vent, a door was set into the wall. It looked old and damp, like everything else around us —a door built from wide wooden planks, and held together with rusting metal hardware. In place of a doorknob, there was a heavy metal ring. Nova and I looked at the door for a long, silent moment, and then turned to look at each other.

She shrugged. “It’s the only way through, unless you want to crawl back up that vent,” she said.

I wasn’t even sure I could crawl back up the vent again, and anyway, I wasn’t turning back now. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, took hold of the metal ring, and pulled.

“Help me!” I gasped, and Nova leaped forward. Shoulder to shoulder we grabbed onto the ring, and pulled together. The door dragged grudgingly open with a grating, grinding noise against the floor.

With my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest, I stepped into the room beyond.