This is a good idea. It gives me the opportunity to show Tommy how to do it too, what to be aware of in his surroundings, where to check for traps and cameras. So far, nobody seems to have noticed what we are up to, so there shouldn’t be anyone rushing to ambush us.
“Okay. Let’s do that.” I step through the door, then slowly approach the stairwell and glance up and down. It’s clear, no cameras or staff here either. “I want you to observe me. Pay attention to our surroundings, always look for something out of place. Think two steps ahead, never let your guard down.”
This might seem extreme, considering we are just snooping around in the off-limits part of my friend’s home, but if this were anywhere else, failing to do any of those things could get Tommy killed.
My eager apprentice joins me at the stairs, peeking up and down just like I did. “Clear,” he says as he jogs back to the door and quietly closes it. “Which way now?”
I weigh our options. If we go up, we’ll probably just reach the outside. This is an emergency exit, after all. But if we go down…
Tommy’s gaze darts to me, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips. “Down, yeah?”
I bob my head. “Yes. But don’t forget to double-check for cameras first.”
I let him handle that, even though I did a sweep already and know that there aren’t any, but he needs to get into the habit of checking, no matter where we are.
“No cameras. We can go.”
I lead us down a floor. There is one more below it, but I can catch a whiff of paint coming from there, which tells me that part is still under construction. Whatever Isidoro is hiding must be on this first sublevel.
A single door stands between us and the lit corridor on the other side. I motion for Tommy to stand on the left of the door, while I take the right. Popping it open just enough so I can push my head through, I survey the hall. No cameras, no signs of staff or guards. So far so good, even though I am a little surprised Isidoro doesn’t have any security measures. This is allegedly an off-limits area… Then again, maybe he doesn’t have visitors often, or at all. Tommy and I are extenuating circumstances.
I extend my arm and sweep it twice in the direction of the inner corridor.
Tommy frowns, confusion sliding across his face. “What?”
I smile to myself. I need to teach him some of the nonverbal signs. “Go first, I’ll cover our backs.”
He swooshes past me, maintaining a semi-crouch. It’s completely unnecessary right now, but the fact that he’s trying his best warms my heart. He will make a splendid partner one day.
Once we’ve left the emergency door on this level behind, we follow the hallway. Like the floor above, rooms line up the two sides. Most of the ones down here are empty though.
“There’s nothing here,” Tommy says after another half a dozen rooms. “Maybe we should’ve gone up? Or, Idon’t know, do you think Isidoro was pulling our leg about this red door?”
That would’ve been the case had he not acted so unlike himself when Tommy showed him the red stone.
Just as I am about to share my thoughts on the matter, I hear voices. Tommy halts abruptly and turns around, a question written all over his face. Before he manages to open his mouth, I place a finger against it and nod.
“I hear it too,” I whisper, gesturing at where the noises are coming from. Now that I am paying more attention, I can hear a hum too, like music quietly playing in the background.
Assuming the rest of this floor mirrors the one above us precisely, there is an open space with seating right after the corridor turns left. The swimming pool upstairs is behind a door there, so, likewise, there must be a big room here, too.
“I think we should go this way,” Tommy says, pointing where the corridor turns.
Silently agreeing, I take the lead once again. Our approach is careful, each step measured so we don’t make any unnecessary noise. As we near the turn and the voices and music become clearer, I have to pause for a moment to comprehend what I’m hearing.
I thought someone was having a conversation while music played, but that’s not quite what’s happening here. The two actually work together, complementing each other. It’s not a conversation, but rather, a song in a language I can only partially place.
Tommy pulls on my sleeve, eyebrows bunched together and ears perked up. “Uh, what’s that, Niko? It’s not English.”
“It’s Latin.” I place my fingers around his, squeezing lightly. “They are singing in Latin.”
His lush lips form an O. “Latin? Can you tell what they are saying?”
“No. I only studied the language briefly during my priest training. It wasn’t really the focus.”
From time to time, I flirt with the idea of picking it up again, but if I ever found the time to study a language again, going for something like Chinese or German would be a lot more practical in this day and age.
I gesture for Tommy to quiet down. A couple more steps later, and I’ve positioned myself with my back to the wall, ready to pop my head over the corner. Counting down from five in my mind, I go for it.
