“Be careful over there,” called Alison to Weyland and Lady Sibba as they continued down the corridor towards the dorms. “If they don’t answer, come back to the dining hall. Don’t be a hero.”
As the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, the creeping feeling of being watched returned. Alison looked at Keir. “Do you feel it?”
“It’s just the storm,” said Keir. “And the quiet now that the others are gone. The library is just ahead. I doubt they’re in there. Let’s check it quickly, and we can head back.”
They walked down the hall, their footsteps echoing over the sound of thunder. Keir was right. It was just the isolation that she was feeling. The rest of the school was safe in the dining hall, and they were out here alone. That would be enough to make most people feel a little uneasy.
The library doors were just ahead. The lightning cast strange shadows in the corridor, the flashes growing ever more frequent as they continued. The windows rattled in their casings.
The ‘lectric lights in the hallway, dim as they were, flickered once, and went out.
Alison reached out for Keir but found empty air.
He had just been beside her. She felt around the darkened corridor but only found the paintings and tapestries on the walls and the dying glow of the ‘lectric bulbs in their sconces.
“Keir?” she asked the darkness, reaching in her pocket for the match.
She felt around for something rough, finding a statue of jagged stone: the one-winged phoenix just past the library, she realized as she felt it. She had wandered too far.
She struck the match against it and brought it to the candlestick.
Her heart rose into her throat as a door creaked open somewhere nearby.
“Keir? Is that you?” she asked, her voice small and frightened.
There was no reply, but she could feel it in the hallway with her. A presence, dark and unkind.
She backed away, fumbling with the match, trying to will the wick to ignite.
Then there was a loud crash in the distance: the exterior doors burst open, sending a gust of wet wind blowing through.
The match and candle blew out.
“Alison!” shouted Keir’s muffled voice from somewhere far away.
The nearby door slammed shut, leaving her in the darkness, alone.
Chapter Eleven
TWISTED FIRESTARTER
Keir
The first thing Keir realized as the door shut behind him was that he wasn’t in the library.
He wasn’t certain how he knew it. The room was pitch dark, the air unmoving. Somehow, he could sense that the space wasn’t large enough. Somehow, he could feel the walls closing in.
The second thing he realized was that he was alone.
“Alison?” he called. The sound was muffled, strangely quiet in this space.
Keir felt behind him for the wall. It was there, which came as somewhat of a surprise. He felt the texture of the wallpaper, something vaguely floral. He reached lower and touched wood paneling. This wasn’t the corridor he’d come from, although he’d known that already.
He must have taken a wrong turn in the dark.
He reached the edge of a frame. He felt the inside of it, hoping for a chalkboard, but found the smooth contours of an oil painting.
There was a change in the air in the room. It was subtle, like the soft breeze when someone walks by. He felt the weight of them, the warmth.
