As I brought the light slowly down the stairs, a flash of fire caught my eye. The crystal bookmark—I was sure of it. Proof that something had indeed been in my bedroom and had somehow exited the house via the stairwell and cellar.
But why take the bookmark? Why leave the insect husk in its place? Was there a message in the exchange that I hadn’t yet deciphered?
At the bottom of the steps, I could see bits of cloth and shredded paper as if something had tried to make a nest there. Quelling my desire to flee the cellar, I went in search of Macon’s tools and supplies, and then, easing back under the shelf, I set to work with grim determination. Dust rained down upon me as I pounded away, but I didn’t stop until I’d thoroughly secured the stairwell.
Brushing grime and cobwebs from my hair and clothing, I returned to the front of the basement to resume my search for the cards. Even as alarm bells sounded inside me, I took my time, moving boxes around and shining my flashlight into all the dark recesses.
But the longer I remained below ground, the greater my unease. As I turned to toe a plastic carton out of my path, the light dimmed. I thought at first the overhead bulb had gone out, but then I realized that something had blocked the natural light streaming down the steps into the open doorway. I wanted to believe a cloud had passed over the sun, but I could still see ribbons of illumination trimming the edges of the door frame. Someone—or something—stood at the top of the stairs.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to the opening, sniffing the air for a death scent. Nothing came to me and I thought—hoped—it might be Macon. I told myself to call out. What harm could it do? I wasn’t exactly hidden nor could I slip away unnoticed. I was trapped. I knew it; whoever was at the top of the steps knew it. But neither of us made a move and the only sound I heard was the drumming of my own heartbeat.
As I stood there immobile, my tongue suddenly tingled with the warm taste of cloves. I saw a flash in the doorway, an arc of reflected light, and then came a metallic ping as something hit the brick floor and bounced toward me. I glanced down warily, an icy breath whispering down my collar.
Seventeen
A brass key lay at my feet, the kind that would fit an ordinary door lock. Surely this couldn’t be the key the blind ghost had demanded I find. How could something so nondescript be my salvation?
I supposed it was human nature that I should reach for it even as Papa’s warning sounded in my head: Leave it be, child. Remember the rules. Never acknowledge the dead. Never stray far from hallowed ground. Never associate with the haunted. And never, ever tempt fate.
Too late. My fingers had already closed around the metal.
As I straightened, a shaft of sunlight from the doorway caught the brass. For a moment, the thing seemed to dance in my hand. The radiance mesmerized and I stood transfixed, helpless to combat whatever dark force had entered my life.
Put it back, Amelia. The door that can be unlocked by that key could very well lead to your destruction. Return it and leave the cellar without looking back.
The spell broken by Papa’s imagined warning, I uncurled my fingers, but the tingle in my mouth grew stronger, as if my every distressed thought had been read and another calming message sent. A presence was trying to communicate with me, but I had no idea if the entity was ghost, human or in-between. I was too afraid at that moment to allow it into my head.
Papa’s phantom caution flitted away as my fist closed once more around the key. I somehow knew it was important, another clue. What did it matter if I took it? The rules had long since been broken. A door to the dead world had already been opened.
Call it instinct, call it desperation or even defiance, but I knew I couldn’t fight destiny with only half-truths. I felt strongly that my greatest weapon still lay hidden in the secrets that had been kept from me since the terrifying night of my birth.
There was only one person who could help me uncover the past. Despite my fears and reservations, I had to go see Papa, and soon.
And with that resolve, the taste in my mouth faded. Sunlight once again spangled down through the open doorway. Everything returned to normal, and if I hadn’t seen what I’d seen in my life, if I didn’t know what I knew, I might have convinced myself the past few moments had been nothing more than a hallucination or a waking dream.
But I did know.
Eighteen
I put the key and the stereoscope in a desk drawer and for the rest of the afternoon tried very hard to concentrate on work. Twilight slid in on a mild breeze, but as darkness descended, the wind picked up and the chime outside my office played an unnerving serenade. I sat with my back to the windows and didn’t turn even when a tree limb scratched against the glass. I didn’t want to know what waited in the deep shadows of my garden.