“Fine. You run around, create a distraction. Then I’ll sneak down and—”
“Hazel, right now you don’t want to hear what Ayaz is saying.”
I sagged in Trey’s arms, the knife slipping from my grasp. “You’re right.”
Trey let me go. I bent to retrieve my knife, needing the reassuring weight of it against my skin. Even though my whole body prickled with heat in my desperation to run after Ayaz, to shake his gorgeous shoulders and drag answers out of him, I stayed crouched beside Trey, the knife handle hot against my fingers, straining to hear something from below and yet not wanting to hear. After what seemed like hours while my imagination tore wretched images of what they might be doing down there, Ayaz and Courtney and the other monarchs climbed back up the staircase, laughing and joking as they headed back in the direction of the school.
As soon as they disappeared into the trees and we were certain we were alone, Trey and I crept out from our hiding place and headed down the stairs. The garden felt strange now. It had been the location of so many memories of my time at Derleth – some of them horrible, some of them wonderful, but tainted now because Courtney was in the arms of my guy.
He’s not my guy.
I’ve got Trey. And Quinn. It doesn’t matter.
He said I was beautiful.
I followed Trey as he picked his way through the weed-choked pathways to the tunnel. He parted the vines we used to disguise the entrance and disappeared inside. “We should have thought to bring a lantern,” he called from within as he held out his hand to me. “We could go back and see if there’s one in the maintenance shed.”
“No need.” I opened my palm up and let the warmth spread along my veins until it pooled in my hand. A tiny flame burst from my skin and danced in the air.
Trey’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard. “That… that is…”
“I know. It’s freaky as fuck. But it’s our best option.”
“Right. Yes.” Trey looked like he was trying hard not to throw up. “Is it safe in this narrow space? It won’t burst free and burn us?”
“Nope. I’ve been practicing.” I allowed the flame to dance a little higher. “I can keep it burning for hours. I promise it won’t hurt you, unless you ask me about the fire that killed my mother. Then all bets are off. Deal?”
“Deal.” We climbed into the tunnel, the tiny light illuminating a circle at our feet. Trey walked stiffly, jumping at every water drip or flickering shadow. The fire made him nervous.
I ran my fingers along the walls, noticing the marks of the tools that had hollowed out this cave. I wondered who the workers were who made this secret route for Parris, and what he did to them once they had finished their clandestine task.
Trey’s broad shoulders and athletic frame blocked my view down the tunnel. After a time, he stopped short. I skidded to a halt, flinging my arm in the air before I accidentally set fire to his shirt.
“You might’ve warned me you were putting the brakes on.”
Trey didn’t apologize. That wasn’t his thing. He shrunk away again, flattening his back against the hunnel wall to be as far from the flame as possible. “I’ve found the blockage. You weren’t kidding.”
With Trey cowering against the tunnel, I had a narrow view in front of them. The entire width and height of the space had been blocked by a wall of reddish-brown bricks, each one mortared in place to create a wall. It looked expertly done and solid as stone.
“I don’t understand,” Trey said. “The only people who know about this tunnel are the four of us. So how was this done?”
“It was maybe an hour after I left your room when I tried to get through here,” I asked. “Could it have been done after your father took Ayaz and did whatever he did to corrupt him?”
Trey shook his head. “Even if they did somehow manage to get the tunnel bricked up in that time, which I doubt, the mortar would’ve been wet and soft when you came through. You could have easily removed the bricks.”
“True, and they were already hard when I was here. Then it must’ve been done earlier. The last time we used the tunnel was the night we saw Zehra. It could have been done any time after that.”
“Fuck.” Trey rubbed his temple. “How long have they known?”
“Don’t know. And right now I don’t care. Do you think we can move the bricks?”
“Come closer and shine that light.” Trey flattened his back against the wall, but I didn’t need to crowd him to help. I directed the flame to leave my hand and float above his head, so that it sat at the highest point of the tunnel, shining its flickering light down on the bricks.
“That’s amazing.” Trey managed to sound both impressed and horrified.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It takes a lot of effort to hold it in place, though, and I can only do it with a tiny flame. Anything bigger I lose control once it leaves my body. So work quick, rich boy.”
Trey rolled up his sleeves and used the pick to clear as much of the mortar as he could from between the bricks. Red dust swirled around us, stinging my eyes and making it difficult to breathe. Several times we had to run back outside to gulp in fresh lungfuls of air.
