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We reach the stairs, and I immediately run up them to the walkway that connects the school to the hunter building.
“You can’t let Claire win, and she will if you do exactly what she wants. You’re walking straight into her trap.”
“I realize that,” I call back to Kate, trying to walk at a moderate pace. If I sprint through the hunter wing, I’ll attract attention. “But I need to know what she was talking about,” I say, turning to face her again. “Please understand me. I have to do this.”
She sees my tense and probably fearful expression and eventually nods. “Fine, I’m coming with you.”
I shake my head. “No, this is something I have to do alone. It’s probably a trap, and I don’t want to drag you down with me. Please stay here.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Okay, I’ll wait here for you.”
I quickly turn around and continue into the heart of the building. I’m soon following corridors I’ve never been in before. I check the number on the door of each room, but I don’t see the one I’m looking for. My heart is in my mouth, and the fear I feel for Ayden pulses in every fiber of my body.
I realize that I’m almost at the end of the corridor, and the room numbers are still too high. What if it’s a hidden room? But when I get to the end of what looks like a corridor leading nowhere, I discover a spiral staircase on the right leading down. I peer down it, but the diffuse light that makes it into the stairwell is too weak to dispel the darkness at the bottom.
“This is going to end badly,” I mutter as I begin my descent.
The stairs seem to go on endlessly. The bottom disappears into darkness, so I can’t even see where I’m going. Although I try to tread quietly, my footfalls echo on the metal steps like thunderclaps. If there’s anyone hanging around near the bottom, they’ve long since heard me. But I haven’t heard anyone calling out to me, which I figure is a good sign.
I finally reach the bottom and find myself in a wide corridor. It’s gloomy down here, and dusty, and the flickering overhead lights are anything but inviting. It reminds me of something out of a horror movie. Everything screams at me: run! But of course, I ignore the warning signs.
I start walking and pass some rooms. 17, 16, 15, I count. I’m definitely going the right way. And then I finally find what I’m looking for.
I reach for the door handle and take a deep breath. I now have a strong suspicion about what I’ll find behind this door. And the thought gives me goosebumps. I have to admit that I’m afraid of what I might see. But it’s Ayden I’m afraid for because I know I’ll find him here. It’s the only explanation.
I slowly turn the handle and quietly push the door open a crack. Maybe I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life, or maybe I’m doing exactly the right thing.
Chapter 7
Ican’t breathe, and everything inside me freezes to ice, as if all the life has drained out of me. I’ve never experienced such horror or felt so afraid.
I stand rooted to the spot, staring at the scene before me. This can’t be happening. It’s too unreal, too horrifying, too nightmarish. I slowly draw a breath, and my lungs fill with oxygen, but it does nothing to alleviate the chill, the helplessness I feel. It’s as if my mind is empty, unable to transmit commands to my body. My limbs function automatically and seem to have only one objective: hurrying to Ayden and freeing him!
My eyes are fixed on the harrowing scene as my hand pushes the door all the way open. Oh my God, I think, as the fear impales me like a dagger.
I take the first step into the room without hesitation. There’s no going back. I’m focused solely on the man I love more than anything in the world, and I could never just leave him here. And as surely as I know that, I also know that I’ll never forget this image: Ayden sitting in a chair at the center of this bare, dimly-lit room. Leather straps around his arms and ankles hold him in position – he’s lost consciousness and can no longer hold himself up. And although he’s not awake, he’s in so much pain that even now his entire body is shaking. Every muscle is tensed, and his contorted face breaks my heart. There are two tubes in each arm. Strange metal contraptions attached to the chair are cutting into his skin. But the worst part is what’s happening to his eyes. They’re held open with clamps so that two needles attached to a surreal-looking device can be directed at the center of each pupil. The device appears to be projecting something directly into Ayden’s eyes. Flickering images like holograms are suspended in the air in front of him: a street, houses, an outstretched arm about to open a door.
I realize that Ayden must be subjecting himself again to the horrible procedure that’s supposed to help him increase his odeon and give him and Snow a fighting edge. But I don’t understand it.
“You’re doing great, Ayden,” says Mr. Collins, who’s standing a few yards away from his adoptive son, watching the projections. “I know it’s painful, but you’re doing us an enormous service. More than you can imagine. And there’s no one else who can do it.” He glances at his son, whose body starts convulsing. “Just a little longer, you can do this.”
At that moment, a voice accompanies the hologram. It’s so familiar, but I can’t place it at first, because it’s so incongruous with this place. A man appears in the projection. He seems familiar too. I can see his face: a dark beard, black hair, cold eyes.
“You wanted to see me?” asks the familiar voice.
“Where have you been? You know what’s expected of you today. In the future, you don’t leave my side. It’s time you prepared yourself for your future role, and you need to get those ridiculous notions out of your head. Surely it’s clear to you by now where that nonsense leads.”
The dark-haired man in the hologram turns around and then glances back over his shoulder.
“Come in, Noah. Don’t make me repeat myself!”
Hearing the name gives me a jolt. I already knew, but I didn’t want to admit it. And honestly, I don’t understand what’s going on here. But now I realize that these images are coming from Ayden and showing what Noah is seeing in real time. How is that possible?
“Good, this could get interesting,” Mr. Collins mutters, watching the images intently. “It’s about time that boy attended some Assembly meetings. This could be a real breakthrough for us.”
Ayden twitches again. He arches his back, convulses, and looks like he’s experiencing excruciating pain.
“Hang in there,” says his father. He turns a small dial attached to the tubes.
