I take a deep breath.You’re okay,I tell myself.You were just a little late and cold, and anxiety is normal. You are not dying.
This is a never-ending conversation I have with myself. I haven’t felt settled for a moment since moving from New York to Echidna. Between work and school and the constant dreams featuring my mom, I can’t remember the last time my chest didn’t ache with tightness. The only moments of reprieve I seem to get are when I lose myself in my research.
I click into the documents I have saved to the desktop in a folder labeledMORO RESEARCH DO NOT DELETE!!!!!!!
The front doors burst open and a group of students bolt in on the tails of a gust of wind, rushing past my desk in a bundled, shivering cluster. One of the girls looks familiar, and when she pulls off her beanie, I realize it’s because she was part of the douche parade last night. So was the awkward, gangly boy at her elbow and the freckly brunette behind her. Were they all there last night?
They head straight for the second floor’s mezzanine, a crash of noise as they race up the stone steps. I can’t help but follow them with my eyes. The awkward boy throws an arm around the brunette and whispers something in her ear. She laughs then shoves an elbow into his ribs.
What do they know about Hades House?
I tear my eyes away.What does it matter?
Orfeo told me to stay away; my mother made it clear that I need to focus on getting into the catacombs.
But she also told me that I have to practice decoupling. And if they know something about Hades House or the demons and vampires surrounding it, that might help me find out why my mother wants me here.
I force myself to take a bite of my sandwich. I haven’t eaten since my early morning muffin, and even though my headache is gone, I still feel weak after last night. I hit play on my phoneand let mylo-fi bossanova to make out/study toplaylist fill my ears. My dissertation is a couple thousand shitty words. A poor attempt to make sense of my mother’s life. According to my Google doc, I abandoned a paragraph about the origins of the Nazar mid-sentence. I force down more sandwich and delete a few words.
But when a gentle guitar melody comes on, my mind drifts back to Orfeo. To his touch, the feeling of his fingers under my chin, his eyes skimming over my features.
Does he work at Hades House? He must, why else would those demons be looking for him?
Muffled laughter draws my attention back up to the wrought iron railing that travels the length of the mezzanine.
Maybe they know something…
It’s a crazy idea. Totally foolish.
And he told me to stay away.
I click back into my document, forcing myself to read half a paragraph.
But what if they do know something?
I should practice.
I yank my earbuds out and make for the bathroom before I can change my mind.
The archive’s bathrooms are empty, like the rest of the library’s basement. It seems the only time anyone ever finds themselves down here is by accident or to complete some sort of sex-in-public dare.
I lock the door behind me and lean back against it for good measure. With my eyes squeezed shut, I try to picture the exact study table on the second floor. The long wooden one, right at the top of the steps. A few feet away from a cluster of lounge chairs. The blonde girl had taken the chair farthest away from the railing, while the brunette sat facing the atrium. Her sweatshirt was light blue, her hair in a loose braid overher shoulder. I try to recall the sounds of their voices. Hushed whispers, airy giggles.
A familiar tingling starts in my fingers, then climbs up my arms. The pressure in my chest grows and grows, pressing down on my diaphragm, forcing me to slide down the wall until my ass meets the tile. I focus on the image of them chatting, laughing—on the muted sunlight falling in through the glass dome over their heads, casting a wash of multicolored light over their faces…
“Shut down? They changed the entire fucking club?”
The gangly boy nods, chewing on the end of his pen. “Yup. Whole place is off-limits, according to my stepdad. They sold it to some goons from New York and no one can get in touch with the old owners. They just—poof. Disappeared.”
The brunette narrows her eyes. “No way. You’re messing with me.”
“Swear to god.” He laughs and places a hand over the Echidna coat of arms embroidered onto the center of his gray crew neck. “Why would I lie? That was, like, the only place we could get served without IDs.” The boy shakes his head, casting his gaze off into the distance. “There’s a lot of shit about this town people don’t want getting out.”
“Like what?” Another boy joins them, swinging his backpack up onto the table. “You tried to fuck a TA but she turned you down?”
Everyone laughs.
“Nah, man.” He shakes his head. Looks over both of his shoulders before leaning forward. “I heard Echidna’s a portal.”
