The tires have barely stopped rolling over the gravel, and he throws the Jeep into park. “Out,” he orders.
Baffled, I stare at him for a long second. “You’re supposed to take me to Corium. This is just…” I wave at the structure in front of us. “A gate.”
“This is as far as I go.” Impatience bleeds through his words. “Trunk is unlocked. Get your shit.”
I have half a mind to tell him to at least get my suitcases out since I gave him a free show earlier, but I bite my tongue, not wanting to poke the bear.
Getting out, I suck a huge breath of fresh air into my lungs. It seems to have dropped at least twenty degrees since we stopped earlier. My lungs prick as the icy air fills them, making my whole body shudder, the cold temperature seeping into my skin.
I work quickly to get both suitcases and my backpack from the trunk. Not even a second after I close the back does the Jeep take off, reversing down the mountainside before he whips it around and starts back down the mountain. The tires toss dirt up into the air and onto me.Fuck!I cough and bury my face into the crook of my elbow until the billowing cloud of dust settles. It’s like the world hates me and wants to see how much more I can take.
With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I pull my suitcases behind me and walk up to the gate. Only when I’m a foot away do I notice the school crest etched into the metal. The letters C and U for Corium University are on each side, with a skull and a dagger pierced through it. On the top is the word refugium, and below peccatorum.
Lifting my hand, I bring it to the ice-cold metal and run my fingertips over the words.
Refugium peccatorum—Refuge of sinners.
I don’t know who came up with the name, but I can’t think of a more appropriate denomination for this place. We are our parents’ children, after all.
“Name?” A booming voice comes out of nowhere, breaking through the silence forcefully. I’m so startled that I jump back. My heel catches on the bottom of my suitcase, and I go tumbling to the ground.
Dumbfounded, I sit on the freezing gravel and stare up at the gate.
“What’s your name, kid?” The same voice speaks again, and this time, I notice the slight distortion like it’s coming from a speaker. I follow the sound and pinpoint it’s coming from the top corner of the gate. Only then do I notice the small gray camera staring back at me.
“Aspen Mather,” I announce, dusting my hands off on my leggings.
The man on the other side doesn’t answer, but a moment later, a loud buzzing noise fills the space, and the gate slowly swings open.
I scramble to my feet and grab my suitcases. The gate inches open, revealing yet another road. And to make matters worse, it’s all uphill.
Ugh, is this day ever going to end?
Grinding my molars together, I start my hike up the mountain, dragging my heavy suitcases behind. My arms ache with the effort, but at least my butt isn’t sore anymore. After a while, the above-ground part of the university comes into view, which from the outside is nothing more than an old castle.
By the time I finally arrive at the entrance, the sun is setting, and my legs are on fire. I already know I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow. I basically just ran a marathon, my chest is heaving, and a thin sheen of sweat covers my forehead even in these unruly temperatures. The only plus side is I’m not cold anymore.
The building in front of me has no windows, and there is only one large wooden door. I start looking for some kind of doorbell, but before I can find anything, the door opens on its own. I quickly realize that the wood was only a façade, and the actual door is made out of metal thick enough to stop a semi-truck.
“Took you long enough,” the man who appears on the other side sneers. He’s dressed in military clothing, and I recognize the voice as the same from the gate at the bottom of the hill.
“Sorry, I’ll try to be faster next time,” I say under my breath as I stomp past him.
The space opens up to a great room with a polished floor, the school crest inlaid in the tile. A strange smell lingers in the air, like an old dusty basement mixed with floor wax. At the end of the large space, several statues and very large paintings are displayed. Above, in bold gold letters, it readsFOUNDINGMEMBERS.
I recognize one of the faces as Julian Moretti, another of Lucian Black, Adrian Doubeck, Nicolo Diavolo, and then there is Xander Rossi… the picture of him alone sends a shiver running down my spine. Not only is he one of the most ruthless people I know, but he also holds a very personal grudge against my family.
To the right and left of the shrine of powerful criminals are more doors. My escort leads me to the one labeled freshman and sophomores. Through the door, we enter into a long hallway that seems to go on forever. The lighting is dim, making it difficult to see.
We walk for a minute or so before stopping in front of a large elevator. The guy pulls out a folded map and hands it to me. I let go of my suitcase—he never offered me help with—and take the map from him.
“You’re at level C, room 3001. Good luck.” Before I can ask one of the twelve questions on my mind, the guy turns and all but runs away. I let out a defeated sigh. Well, I guess I’m on my own again.
Pushing the elevator button, I wait for it to arrive. The bags in my hand and on my shoulder are becoming increasingly difficult to bear, and I can’t wait to get rid of all of them and finally rest. This has been the longest trip on the face of the earth, and I need a hot shower and some sleep so I can start over tomorrow.
The elevator opens with a bing, and I step into the surprisingly large space. The panel only has four buttons, A, B, C, and T. I press the C and watch the doors slide closed.
I knew that most of this school—including the dorms—were underground, but I didn’t know how far underground until now. The elevator keeps descending until I wonder when we’re going to reach the center of the earth.