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One of the books seems different from the others. It doesn’t seem newer than the others, but the spine is less worn. When I grab the book and try to pull it from the shelf, a mechanism somewhere behind it clicks into place.
Gasping, I step back and watch as the bookcase rotates to a ninety-degree angle.
A secret passage?
Okay, now I’m definitely in a part of the school I shouldn’t be. I take a quick glance behind me at the door. No one followed me in here. No one knows I’m here. No one will know if I walk down this passage.
I can’t be the first to pull that book. Surely this place is common knowledge. If Jenny is hiding down here, the teachers would know. They must have already searched it.
I poke my head inside the hidden corridor. It’s made of stone, and there are candles lining the walls. Curiosity grows inside me. Goddamnit, I could never control my curiosity. Mum always said I had my nose in everything growing up, and she was right. It’s why I walked towards the defence lesson earlier today and almost got hit in the face with a fireball. It’s why I ran into Gabrielle’s room.
It’s why I’m stepping into this hidden hallway.
My feet are silent against the stone as I slip through to the tunnel. Soon, my heart is racing as that sense of excitement and danger builds up within.I’m a kick-ass aura now,I tell myself. If I get into trouble, I’ll just use my new strength and speed.
Yeah, in a school where one aura died and another went missing.
Five minutes, in and out. That’s it. Then I go back to the recreation hall, find Cooper or Laila, and be sensible again.
I graba candle from the wall in case I reach a room with no light—no point wasting the battery on my phone if these things are magical. Then I hurry down the hall, checking back over my shoulder to make sure the hidden door is still open.
The tunnel curves, and I follow it. Then it splits in two.
I can go left, or I can go right.
I choose right.
The tunnel continues, but this time, the stone walls are decorated with heavy red-velvet drapes that reach to the stone floor. I move the candle closer to them, marvelling at the needlecraft. Red gems line the fabric like droplets of blood trailing down the material. It reminds me of the chandelier.
It seems odd to decorate a secret passageway. Maybe this corridor had another use when the Draculs lived here.
The air is heavy with the scents of fresh-cut wood and oiled metal. A soft breeze travels the length of the tunnel, making the candle flame flicker. There must be a window somewhere, or maybe this tunnel comes out at a different point along the outer wall. I walk faster now, concerned I’ll be missed from the recreation hall.
There’s around fifteen more feet before I reach a second door. This one is enormous, like a barn door, in a deep, rich brown. I’m intrigued by the metalwork intricately arranged across the front of the door. In the dim light, it looks like a mighty dragon with wings that curve into the shape of a circle. The dragon is spread across the huge wooden door, its leering eyes wide and angry as flames flicker from its open mouth like a living creature.
I take a few more steps, and the strong breeze is back. Only this time, it blows out the candle.
Sixteen
As soon asthe dark envelops me, I come to a full stop. Panic builds up from the pit of my stomach, and I can hear my rasping breath sawing in and out of my lungs.
I reach inside my blazer pocket for my phone, wishing I’d used it in the first place.So much for these magical candles.Either I found a faulty one—which would be just my luck—or magic doesn’t work in this area of the castle.
Maybe the Dracul family put up some sort of blocking spell. I don’t know how magic works yet, but I’ve seen book titles mentioning counterspells and wards.
A sigh shivers through the corridor, tickling the back of my neck. With my phone in hand but the torch light not on yet, I twist my body one way then the other, my free hand groping the air in front of me.
“It’s the breeze, you ninny,” I say out loud, my voice shaking.
As I turn on the phone’s torch light, I take a step forward, still a little disorientated from the dark. For some reason, the light clicks back off, then the surface below my feet becomesuneven. The toe of my right shoe catches on a lip, and I pitch forward, flailing my arms while the phone flies from my hand.
I throw my hands out to break my fall, then I cry out in pain as I connect with the stone.
Rolling to my side, I cradle my injured hand against me. Somehow, I must have hit a sharp spike sticking out from the stones. The palm of my hand landed on it squarely, slicing my palm down the centre.
It hurts like hell, and I let out a string of the worst swear words I know. It may need stitches—and I’ve definitely ruined my brand-new school uniform.
Still cradling my hurt hand, I’m in the process of standing when I hear an almightyclunkfollowed by a scrape and the shuddering of the ground beneath my feet. I fall against the wall and can only watch as a huge door opens inwards.
