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I stopped abruptly and put a hand to my throat. The black, fine-link chain the key was on had tightened all at once, cutting off my air. Clearly the key didn’t want me to talk about Griffin, though I couldn’t understand why.
All right, all right! I thought at it angrily. I’ll keep my mouth shut—just let me breathe!
“You ran into who?” Emma was looking at me curiously.
I shook my head.
“Nobody.” My voice came out sounding rather choked but at least the chain had loosened enough for me to breathe again. Though I could still feel the key drawn up into the hollow of my throat instead of dangling between my breasts as it usually did.
Like some kind of Mob enforcer waiting to garrote a witness if they spilled the beans.
And to think I had been imagining it as a friend or even a harmless little pet! This pet could kill me as easily as Griffin could have, I reminded myself. And it clearly had its own agenda.
I needed to be careful who—and what—I trusted.
“Nobody,” I said again. “I was just looking all over for the, uh—what did you call it? The Norm Dorm?”
“Yeah.” Emma smiled at me happily. “It’s this way. Look.”
She pointed and I saw that she had come from a square hole cut into the flagstone floor. It was located in the far corner of the Dining Hall, where no tables were set up, and there was a wooden trapdoor with a rug fixed to it which obviously covered it when the door was shut.
Looking into the hole, I saw a winding spiral staircase leading downward. Far below, was a warm, flickering golden light that made me think of a fire burning in a fireplace.
“Come on down,” Emma offered. “You look tired. We missed you at dinner—where have you been?”
“It’s a long, long story,” I mumbled as I started down the spiral staircase. Emma came after me, being careful to pull the trapdoor shut behind me. I heard the soft thump as the attached rug settled into place and I was certain that no one who didn’t already know it was there could find the dungeon at all.
As I descended, I had the strangest feeling that somehow I was coming home. I just wished I could talk to my new friends about what had just happened with Griffin—but clearly the key wouldn’t allow that.
Well, maybe I could find some way around the key, I thought. Some other way to find information about the mysterious Nocturne.
There was nothing I could do but try…
18
“It’s not nearly as fancy as the Others’ dorms in the towers,” Emma told me. “But it’s cozy and it’s all ours. There aren’t many Norms attending this year and besides Kaitlyn and me, the ones who are, are all boarding off campus, so Kaitlyn and Avery and I all pretty much have the run of the place.”
I looked around appreciatively at the small space. When I had heard I was going to be staying in a dungeon, an image of vast, dark, echoing chambers filled with torture devices, rusty chains, and horrible mysterious stains on the floors had immediately sprung to mind.
Instead, the space that housed the “Norm Dorm” appeared to be divided into many smaller rooms, with the largest central chamber being here in the middle.
There was a hint of chill in the air, despite the warm Florida night outside—probably because we were underground and the room was built of the same thick gray stone that made up the rest of the castle. But the large fireplace set into the far wall had a roaring blaze that offset the chill nicely. In fact, the flickering flames and the slight chill and damp in the air reminded me nostalgically of my old home in Seattle.
My mom used to love to have a fire burning in the fireplace on damp, rainy days—which was most of them. Though of course, our tiny gas fireplace was nothing to the huge hearth I saw here. It was big enough to roast a whole pig in.
Which was what Avery was apparently intent on doing. At least, he was kneeling on the hearth and turning what appeared to be a large chunk of meat on a spit. I stared harder, making sure I wasn’t mistaken. Yes, it was an honest-to-God spit. I had never seen anyone cook anything on a spit except in movies about camping or Medieval times.
But the archaic cooking style didn’t matter—the smell coming from it was mouthwatering and I heard my stomach gurgle in response.
Emma laughed. “Wow, that was loud.”
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, putting a hand to my midsection. “I’m so sorry—I’m just so hungry. What is he cooking?”
“Just a little something I liberated from the kitchen,” Avery said, getting up and dusting off the knees of his immaculate looking blue pajamas. “It’s a pork loin, actually. I purloined a loin.” He grinned at me charmingly. “Just for you, newbie. You’re lucky—I don’t kill the fatted calf for just anyone, you know. Or the fatted pig in this case.”
