“Well, what else am I supposed to think? Enlighten me.”
His shoulders fell. “I came here to ask you something, but you weren’t here, and then this box caught my eye. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded. I know how women can be about their privacy.”
“What does my being a woman have to do with anything? It’s not like I can’t handle you trespassing and going through my things because I have ovaries. I promise I will not get the vapors. It’s just general courtesy not to snoop. Also, I was at the party atyourhouse. You could have just talked to me there.”
He gave me puppy-dog eyes. “But you disappeared.”
“I just went to the library. I was coming back.”
My anger reaching a crescendo, I picked up the box and held it to my chest, but then I saw the sadness in his eyes, the genuine contrition that seemed to simmer there, and my rage began to subside. Maybe I was overreacting.
“I’ll go,” he said softly. “I really am sorry.”
“No, wait, Dorian,” I said, stopping him. “I’m sorry. I’m not happy that you invaded my privacy, but I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”
“No, really, I’m in the wrong, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in here.”
I thought that was going to be that, and then he would leave, but instead he pointed to the box, a wry smile forming on his lips. “These things, these cards, you don’t believe in them, do you?”
I could feel myself blush. “No. Of course not. But also that’s none of your business.”
“They’re for your research?”
I stared at him blankly. I couldn’t really lie and say that they were part of my research because if he pressed, it would become clear that I hadn’t the first clue what they were. Of course I also didn’t want to reveal that I’d basically just stolen the lot of it from his house.
“No,” I said carefully.
He laughed. “You don’t use them, do you? Because this is hokum. Ridiculous. For the small-minded.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, seeing an opportunity. “Do you know what they are?”
“Of course. Locals use them. They are much like tarot, but with older roots.”
“What about these?” I asked, showing him the tiles. “Do you know what these are?”
“They’re called widows’ keys.”
I grimaced. “Morbid name. Do you know how to use them?”
He shook his head. “I think you need a book.”
“I assumed as much. I’ll look into it.”
“Let me know if I can help,” he said.
“No need,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to sleep.”
He didn’t budge, so I physically turned him around and pointed him toward the door. He tried to give me handsome-boy sad eyes, but I wasn’t falling for it. Looks only counted for so much.
Reluctantly he left, closing the door slowly behind him. It was only a moment or so later that I noticed he’d left his jacket draped over my chair. I picked it up and started toward the door, intending to call after him, but then something fell out of his pocket. Reaching down, I grabbed it, and was stunned to discover it was a key card. My mind flashed to the building I’d found in the woods. Ask and ye shall receive, apparently. I bit my lip, thinking, and then set the jacket back on the chair where I’d found it. Did I want to go down this road? I decided I did. I set my alarm for threeA.M.and went to sleep.
When my alarm went off, I arose and got dressed. I then stepped out into the darkness. Around me, the night was warm and violent, a hot wind playing in among the leaves. I moved quicklyand quietly, much more so than I’d expected of myself, slipping along the garden paths, hiding in the shadows.
The woods were quiet as I made my way past the night-blooming flowers and over toward the building. I broke into a jog as I made my way along the path, watching my step as it shifted from stone to brick. When I reached the entrance, I found the key slot and swiped Dorian’s card; the door buzzed open. Inside, the atmosphere felt different, as if it were somehow pressure controlled.
As I walked down the hall, a strange pulsing sound seemed to surround me. I noticed a sign on one of the doors that readSNG LAB. It appeared to be a traditional lab, but I didn’t recognize some of the equipment. Not that I necessarily would, but there was something a little strange about it. In the corner, I noticed what looked like an MRI machine—almost, but not quite. I tried the door, but it was locked.
Down at the end of the hall was a set of double doors. I tried the handle, expecting them to be locked, but instead, they swung open to reveal what appeared to be a mix of offices and living quarters, though the living quarters definitely weren’t dorm rooms. They felt more like something one might find at a research outpost somewhere remote. Ernest Shackleton and Antarctic expeditions came to mind.
