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It was time to get started. I approached the shelf. “Where’s the carpet cleaner?”
“No. ” He said it as though he were scolding a bad dog.
Uh…okay. “No?”
He sneered at me. “Girls clean lavatories. ”
I dug my nails into the mop handle, deciding that Mr. Forward Thinker better watch his back—I’d proven myself a whiz at long, sticked household items. “Is that so?”
Temper, I reminded myself. This guy wa
s white noise, just a blip on my radar. I already had a bright and shining objective.
He shouldered past me, his hand going straight for a specific key chain among all the others on the wall. I got just a brief glimpse, and it sent my mind reeling. The key fob was a figure eight—one half was the ring holding the keys, but the other half was solid, with a triangle etched in its center.
That was the symbol—the symbol on the gate. Could it really be this easy? Was it just an emblem, or could this thing unlock the tunnel? It seemed preposterous, but why not? Service people had to enter the castle somehow.
As he turned for the door, I said, “Wait. ” I braved a step closer, thinking fast. “Are those the keys to the lavatories? If you point me in the right direction, I can go ahead and get started. ” I held out my hand, trying not to shake.
He snatched it out of my reach. “Girls don’t get keys. ”
Of course not. Forcing a smile, I glanced at the workbench and pretended to marvel at his collection of keys. “It’s amazing how you went right to the correct one. ” I looked back at the key chain in his hand, taking in as many details as I could in the dim shed. The infinity symbol looked the same size as the one on the padlock. The only difference was the triangle—this one was flat, neither protruding from nor indented in the metal. The whole thing was old and rusty looking, like he’d just dug it up from where it’d been buried in the dirt for about a hundred years. There were only two keys on it. “I mean, there aren’t even that many keys on there. ”
He stared at the ring in his hand as though it were the stupidest thing in the world—after me, of course. “Them’s passingkeys” was all he said, and then his cheek twitched. A real conversationalist, this one.
I leaned against my mop. He seemed anxious to leave, but I wasn’t budging. “I beg your pardon?”
He grunted, then finally, grudgingly repeated, “Passingkeys. ” He’d said it louder, as though that might clarify matters.
I stepped even closer, approaching as slowly as I would a rabid dog. But it was worth the risk. Who knew there’d be such bounty in the janitor’s shed? Forget a cast of the medallion. If I could somehow make a copy of this, I’d be golden. “Passingkey? Is that like a skeleton key?”
He snatched his hand back, his eyes suddenly hard, suspicious in a way that genuinely alarmed me. “You’re nosy. ”
It was time for Drew Plan B: Relying on the Ignorant Assumptions of Others.
People saw a diminutive blonde and assumed the worst. Sometimes it served me to embrace it and simply become the cliché, which, just then, meant I began to babble like an airhead. “Oh, I’m not nosy,” I said, pasting a big smile on my face. “I just really loved my Phenomena class. You know Phenomena? That was where we learned how to pick locks. We learned about tumblers and padlocks and bump keys but this sort of lever lock key that you have is new to me, and…Hey, look…” I squinted my eyes, meanwhile noting every detail with a precision that would’ve surprised this jerk. The infinity symbol seemed an exact replica in size and shape to the one on the sea gate. The keys themselves were weathered bronze, one with two teeth at the end of a thin haft, the other bearing just a single, thick bit. They were a standard size, matching my room key. Matching Alcántara’s keys. I made all kinds of mental notes to consider later. “Wow, that is so cool. ” I pointed. “The loopy part at the top of that one even looks like a little skull. Oh, neat, I just got it. Do you get it? Skeleton key…skull? Do you see it? There at the top? It’s like a teensy tiny—”
He turned abruptly for the door. “I got no time for this, girl. Chatter like a magpie on your own time. ”
I gave his back a great big grin. Make time for this, jerkface.
By the time midnight rolled around, my mood was more subdued. Before I could sneak back into the janitor’s grim little hideaway, I needed to wait until Frost was asleep. Which, unfortunately, gave me way too much time to think.
In the wee hours like this, my anger at Carden always turned to dread. He’d been gone too long. I needed to confront the possibility that something had happened to him, something awful. He should’ve reappeared by now—to feed, at the very least. In my heart of hearts, I knew he’d have been here if he could…which meant some force was preventing him.
It was unbearable to contemplate. So much easier to remain angry.
I eased my mind, imagining how it would be if he were here. He’d tell me his funny stories and take my mind off my fear. Because I was afraid—this was a giant risk I was taking.
When I finally ventured out, the night was moonless. I knew firsthand how there were way too many things that saw better than I did in the pitch-darkness, but I assured myself I wasn’t even really off the path—I was smack-dab in the middle of the quad. Which, when I thought about it, was scarier than anything.
I’d have to be quick, and wasn’t that just the understatement of the year. But I had no choice. I’d shadowed that dumb man all day, and never once had he parted from his key chain. So much for him thinking it was stupid. I’d tried everything, even spilling an entire canister of Comet in the toilet. Then, claiming the need for more, I’d asked to borrow his keys to get back in the shed for supplies, and still he’d guarded them jealously, like the fate of the world depended on them. That, more than anything, told me I was on the right track. That his key ring might be my solution.
I squatted in front of the shed door for a closer look at the dead bolt. I’d cased the place well enough to know exactly what to expect and which tools to bring to break into his grim little hideaway. If I’d had a tension wrench, this thing would’ve been a piece of cake, but of course, there was no such thing in the rudimentary lock-picking kit we’d been assigned—the vampires weren’t going to make it that easy on us. I’d have to get enough torque by using my file. Plus, I’d saved a can from the dining hall and folded a strip of aluminum into something narrow enough to fit in the keyhole but still sturdy enough to lever the pins.
I got to work.
My hands were raw, and I smelled like Borax, Windex, Ajax, and whatever other x-caliber toxicity I’d been exposed to all day, but it’d been worth it. It was hard going in the darkness, but finally I decided just to give in to it and shut my eyes, picking the lock by feel and instinct alone. Sure enough, the mechanism gave with a soft click.
