Silence pressed down against his skull, a feeling like being very deep underwater. Dara hugged his arms around his own chest as he straightened upright, but he doubted the shiver in his limbs had anything to do with the cold.
He pulled out his phone and looked. The screen had gone white, a message from Taye.He’s out.
Dara’s heart seized. Abruptly it was very difficult to walk, as if all the bones in his legs had gone to liquid. He staggered left, deeper into the chancel. He had to ... hide, he had to get out of sight. But where?
The altar was out. That was the obvious choice, would be the first place Lehrer checked. The smaller pews off to the side also seemed less than ideal, but—
Taye:he’s going inside
The pulpit.
Dara darted across the chancel, up the few curving wooden steps that led to the carved stone pulpit perched there at the corner. He huddled himself deep against the chilly limestone and clenched his eyes shut, willed his breath to come soft and steady. Inaudibly.
He couldn’t hear anything. God, he couldn’t—he couldn’t hearanything.
Lehrer could be anywhere.
Dara opened his eyes to stare down at his phone again, at Taye’s last words.He’s going inside.
He was here. He was in the chapel now, near enough that if Dara weren’t wearing earplugs, he would hear Lehrer’s footsteps on the wooden floor. Would hear his voice, perhaps, low and silken and laden with magic.
Taye:halfway up the aisle. he’s checking the pews as he goes
Dara stared at the wall opposite him, at the long strip of carved wood that ran like a ribbon between pillars of smooth stone.
He should have chosen a better hiding place. He should have hidden in the choir pews after all, should have—
Taye:he’s at the chancel
Dara pressed a hand against his mouth. He couldn’t tell if it did any good. He was shaking now, violently. Was that audible? Could Lehrer hear?
A tear slid down his cheek, catching at Dara’s knuckle, and he bit down on his own palm to swallow back a sob.
God, he could be anywhere. He could be walking up the lectern steps right now, might round the corner and fix his colorless gaze on Dara’s face and say—
He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t, he had to—
Dara crept forward onto his hands and knees, moving inch by agonizing inch until he was able to peer around the edge of the pulpit.
Lehrer stood at the altar, one long-fingered hand resting atop its surface, looking down at it as if the wood held a secret it might confess if he waited long enough. Lehrer lifted his head. Adrenaline seared through Dara’s veins, blinding-white, and for a moment his mind was full of buzzing static—but Lehrer wasn’t looking at Dara; he wasn’t drawing closer. He was just gazing at the broken windows beyond the altar, out into the fast-falling night.
And ... even from here, Dara could see he didn’t look well. Lehrer’s skin had gone the sallow color of candle wax, and the hand atop the altar was trembling.
Dara watched as Lehrer turned away from him, moving across the chancel and toward the iron grate that barred off the smaller side chapel.
That grate crumpled like paper with a wave of Lehrer’s hand. But as it fell, Lehrer swayed on his feet, reaching out to brace himself against the wall.
It was several seconds before Lehrer was able to move forward again, drifting into the small chapel and examining its altar, trailing his fingertips over the cold wicks of the prayer candles.
He turned, and Dara lurched back behind the pulpit just in time.
God, he wanted to take out his earplugs—just to hear the moment Lehrer moved into the crypt—he couldn’t miss that moment, couldn’t abandon Noam down there to be trapped and killed in close quarters—
Dara dug out his phone and typed a message to Taye:now?
Taye responded almost immediately.
Taye:at the crypt door. just looking at it, hasn’t gone in
