TEN
The next morning, Robert woke in darkness. A layer of frost coated his bedroom window, blocking out the sunlight. On the radio, the DJ announced that the temperature was a chilly twenty-nine degrees.
Robert dressed and went downstairs. Mrs. Arthur left early for work every morning, so he was used to making his own breakfast. Out of habit, he grabbed three cereal bowls from the cabinet. He was usually joined at the kitchen table by Pip and Squeak, and his pets insisted on different cereals (Pip preferred regular Cheerios; Squeak liked the honey nut flavor). Upon realizing his mistake, Robert returned all three bowls to the cupboard. He was too nervous to eat breakfast anyway.
He was putting on his coat when he discovered a note by his mother, tucked inside one of the pockets: “Remember, hair grows back! Cheer up and have a great day!” It was wrapped around a special treat: a Hershey’s chocolate bar with almonds. Robert nearly left the candy at home—he couldn’t imagine regaining his appetite anytime soon—but decided to leave it in his pocket, just in case.
When he arrived at Lovecraft Middle School later that morning, all the insects were gone. No swarms were buzzing in the hallway, no beetles or crickets were marching across the floor. The strips of flypaper had been removed and discarded. If it weren’t for the heads of his classmates—by now, nearly everyone in school was sporting a buzz cut—Robert might have wondered if the past few days had just been a bizarre dream.
He went straight to the library. Ms. Lavinia was standing on the circulation desk and removing the bug zapper from the ceiling. She saw him coming and frowned.
“Did you get the key?” Robert asked.
“Not yet.”
“But you promised—”
“I’m sorry, Robert. My brother has a set in his study, but he was up working all night. I’ll have to try again this evening.”
Robert realized that meant waiting another twenty-four hours before taking action. A whole extra day of imagining the worst. He couldn’t stand it.
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll find the key myself.”
Ms. Lavinia hurried down from her desk and followed Robert out of the library. The hallway was crowded with students opening their lockers and removing their coats. She looked like she wanted to yell, but the crowds forced her to speak in a whisper. “What are you planning?”
“I’ll cross over,” Robert said. “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”
Most of the gates to Tillinghast Mansion were well hidden, but recently Robert had discovered one at the bottom of the school swimming pool. He knew that if he swam through it, he would emerge in a small pond located on the side of the house.
“You’ll never make it to the study,” Ms. Lavinia said. “You’ll be lucky if you get through the front door.” Still whispering, she reminded Robert that the mansion was home to lots of demons and monsters, all of them desperate for a human “vessel” that would allow them to enter the school unnoticed.
“I have to try,” Robert insisted. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Pip and Squeak need my help.”
Ms. Lavinia seemed to understand there would be no talking him out of it. She took Robert by the elbow and led him in a different direction. “If you’re going to insist on crossing over, at least let me show you a shortcut.”
Just then the eight-twenty bell rang, signaling the start of the school day, and students began filing into their homerooms. Ms. Lavinia led Robert to the backstage entrance of the school auditorium. The wings of the stage were a dark and shadowy space, cluttered with clarinets and cellos, tubas and timpani drums, along with dozens of music stands and folding chairs.
Ms. Lavinia directed Robert’s attention to a navy blue drape at the rear of the stage. “You need to walk behind that curtain. When you reach the ladder, start climbing. Be as quiet as you can. Sound can travel through a gate, and if you’re too loud, my brother will hear you coming.”
“How do I get the key?”
“I wish I knew. I’ve heard him say the keys are in the lock, but I don’t know what that means.”
“The keys are in the lock?” Robert asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“My brother doesn’t make a lot of sense. You’ll just have to search his entire study. Be careful.”
As Robert ducked behind the curtain, his stomach did little flip-flops. This was his first time venturing into Tillinghast Mansion alone, and he wished that Glenn or Karina were going with him.
Fortunately, the ladder was easy to find—it was a series of metal rungs mounted to the cinder-block wall. Robert planted his feet on the lowest one and climbed hand over hand. He was ten feet above the stage when he recognized the familiar swampy stench of the mansion; it was too dark to see the gate, but he could feel its energy, drawing him higher and making the climbing easier. He had nearly reached the top of the ladder when all of the rungs abruptly disappeared, and he realized he was standing on solid ground.
And he was no longer alone.
“What are you doing here?”