My calves ached. My feet howled. The sooner I completed this mission, the sooner I could return to my cabana for a long, luxurious bubble bath. I’d sip a glass of champagne, nibble onchocolate-covered cherries, and bask in my victory. I focused on this thought as I trudged across the miles of dark hills.
Eventually, I heard bleating. Squinting into the darkness, I spotted the top of the stone structure I was looking for. Apparently the sheep had returned, but not in as great a force as before. A handful of them surrounded a car that was parked by the museum’s front staircase.
I continued along the gravel road, flanked by dark trees.
Did the vehicle belong to Cornelius Kurnbottom, signaling his return from some earlier errand? Or did the car belong to someone else who was here looking for him, like I was? I hoped it was the former rather than the latter.
The front door of the museum opened. I paused.
Silas stepped out.
I turned off my flashlight, held my breath, and hopped into the woods, hiding myself behind a short, gnarled trunk. I felt absolutely ridiculous hiding like this, as I had nothing to hide. Plus, if Silas actually looked this way, my yellow and white dress wasn’t particularly well matched for camouflage.
He didn’t turn this way, though. He took a step down onto the first step, and another man joined him on the stoop. From here, I couldn’t tell if the second man was Cornelius Kurnbottom or not, as his hooded cloak hid his face.
The two appeared to be speaking, as they remained in place, gesturing with body language I couldn’t make out. Finally, Silas turned to go. He shooed the sheep from the vehicle at the bottom of the stairs, climbed inside, and roared the engine to life. Blinding headlights flooded my direction. I covered my face, then squinted so as not to miss anything. Silas began driving, slowly at first, so the sheep would part and make way.
The second man descended the stairs and circled around toward the back of the building. He pulled something glowingout of his jacket pocket, and cupped it to his heart. A small lantern?
Silas drove toward me, down the road, and through the trees. What was he doing here? What information had he gleaned while I wasted time sitting around eating cabbage rolls with Imogen?
I had a decision to make and little time to make it. I could follow Silas, figure out what he was up to, or I could talk to Cornelius Kurnbottom. I’d come here with purpose, and that purpose had not changed no matter what Silas was up to. I waited for Silas to pass, then made my way up toward the castle.
I kept my distance from the building so as not to disturb any magical security devices this time. The hooded figure walked through the arched entrance of a hedge wall. He was tall and lean like Cornelius Kurnbottom. More likely than not, it was him.
I was about to announce myself and offer a greeting before following him farther into his private property, when he spoke first.
“Thinks he can make demands? Thinks he’s something special, he does.” Possibly-Cornelius cackled and stroked the glowing object in his hands.
How peculiar. Clearly Silas had not made a positive impression. A smug smile crossed my cheeks. Without a closer observation of their interaction, I couldn’t say where exactly Silas had misstepped. Perhaps a typical greeting would be less fruitful than stealth work. I cast my last invisibility scroll and followed the man into what appeared to be a garden.
Possibly-Cornelius grumbled too softly to make out his words. I stayed back, careful not to be noticed. The hedges twisted and turned, a maze of greenery, until they stopped at a staircase leading downward. Possibly-Cornelius disappearedbeneath the ground, leaving me only one choice—I had to follow him.
I stared at the staircase, and to the complete darkness the stairs led to. My chest clenched. My breath hitched. There was nothing scary about a set of stairs.
An image of the staircase in the Marshmallow cemetery flashed across my vision, as if I was standing at the top this very moment. Spots flooded my vision. I shook my head, and the spots faded away.
This was not Marshmallow. This was not a cemetery. This was a garden, halfway around the world from where I’d died.
I took my first step down. A clammy sheen covered my skin. If I didn’t hurry, I could lose Cornelius if this staircase really led to anything like Marshmallow’s vast system of underground tunnels.
I took another step, and another.
Everything was fine.
“We’ll show him he’s just like the others,” Possibly-Cornelius said from down below, his voice distant.
I had to hurry. I took another step, and another, not allowing myself time to think.
The staircase narrowed. The night felt darker. Two thirds of the way down, a wave of dizziness struck. I leaned against the wall.
An overwhelming sense of dread fell over me. This was it. This was where I died.
My throat was closing shut. I couldn’t breathe.
No, I couldn’t allow myself to be caught. I was hidden, invisible, a librarian on a mission. I couldn’t die again, not like this.
I stumbled, my foot slipped.