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Part 2, Chapter 5
The moment Sydney and Nigel entered Karen's room to announce that they had returned, they knew something was wrong. Claudia's face was as white as a sheet, and Karen's face was flushed and stunned. “What is it?” Sydney demanded as she pulled off her gloves and started unbuttoning her jacket. Claudia glanced at Karen, who answered, “It's the waitress, her name was June Morrow. She's dead.” “Dead?” “Was it Harrington?” Nigel asked, also unbuttoning his jacket. “I don't know, but she didn't die a very...nice...death.” Sydney frowned. “What do you mean?” “Her body was ripped and torn as if she'd been attacked by an animal,” Claudia said faintly. “What?” “I guess that's not so uncommon around here,” Karen continued. “At least, that's what the policeman I talked to told me. There are predators in the forest. They found her in the playground.” “Dead women tell no tales,” Nigel said grimly. Sydney sighed. “I wish I could have talked to her. Maybe we should have waited for her last night.” “That's when she was killed.” Karen stood up, rubbing her arms. “Sometime around midnight.” “She didn't even know anything. They didn't have to kill her!” “If it was indeed Harrington,” Nigel said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It could have been an animal as they suspect.” “Oh, it was him. I know it was. It was a warning.” “So, what do we do?” “We go to the museum and find out what all this is about.” “Museum?” Claudia asked, some color coming back to her face. “What museum?” It was Sydney's turn to fill Karen and Claudia in on what they had learned at Shady Acres. When she finished, Claudia looked at her in awe as she said, “I guess this means we're close, huh?” “Very.” “You know, Syd,” Karen commented, “I don't think I've ever been there when you discovered a relic before.” “I have,” Claudia said. “And twice, it wasn't all that great. But this time is going to be better.” Karen raised an eyebrow. “Once, Claudia was kidnapped,” Sydney explained, “and the other time, well...” She trailed off and Claudia shuddered. “It was not fun...But the necklace was worth it.” Sydney smiled at her. “That's my girl.” “Some day, you're going to have to tell me that story, Claudia,” Karen insisted. “Sure.” Claudia stood up. “But now, I could go for some grub. I think they serve salads in the hotel restaurant.” Nigel nodded enthusiastically. “I could go for some lunch myself—a big juicy hamburger.” Claudia stuck out her tongue. “You are so gross, Nigel!” This broke the tension in the air and they all laughed in relief. Sydney dug through her satchel and found a fifty, so she offered to buy everyone lunch, which perked them up even more. After breakfast, they headed over to the museum, which was a big, stately building near the library. It had once been the home of the first mayor of Clarksville, and the place hadn't been touched, except for restorations, for about a hundred and fifty years. As they entered the front doors, a perky, dark haired woman came over to them. “Hello!” Sydney smiled at her, despite wincing at her sheer volume. “Hello.” “Is this your first time in the Clarksville Museum?” She flashed her smile at Karen and Claudia, and then she sized up Nigel appreciatively. “Yes, it is. We've heard that most of the house is as it has been for the past hundred years.” “Yes. Donald Clark's descendants were very proud of him. In the 1890s, they restored everything to the way it was. It became a museum about twenty years later. The mistress of the house at the time was instrumental in it. She was married into the family, not even a descendant.” “Really?” Sydney asked, a suspicion in her mind. “What was her name?” “Patricia Harrington, I believe.” Claudia gasped and Karen elbowed her “Is something wrong?” The dark haired woman asked. “No,” Sydney assured her. “There are a lot of Harringtons in town, aren't there?” “They are a very influential family.” Sydney nodded but didn't reply, so the guide asked, “Would you like a guided or unguided tour?” “Unguided.” “Okay. Just stay behind the ropes. Here are your information pamphlets.” She handed them each a small book, her hand lingering on Nigel's for just a second longer than necessary. Sydney raised her eyebrow at him, causing him to blush and Karen to giggle. When the woman was out of earshot, Sydney said, “Remember what we're looking for.” Claudia reached into her jeans pocket and took out a piece of paper, which she waved in front of Sydney. “Good. We'll make better time if we split up. Karen, you go with Claudia. If you find something you think could be the dead fathers or the stone crosses, come and get me. All right?” “We'll be fine,” Karen assured her, then the two of them moved off, one holding the book and one the piece of paper. Nigel groaned under his breath. “What have we unleashed on this poor museum?” Sydney just threw him a grin. “Ready?” “As always. Where are we off to, Syd?” “Since Claudia and Karen are searching down here, why don't we search upstairs?” She consulted her guide. “It says here there are three bedrooms, a study, and a library up there. I also want to check the hallways.” “The hallways?” He gave her a strange look. “Why the hallways?” “It's just a strange feeling I have about the dead fathers.” “Okay.” They approached the house's curved stairway. It was wide enough that she and Nigel had no problems walking it side by side. As they went up, Sydney studied the banister. “Anything?” Nigel asked. “No, but the stairs were a long shot.” They started searching rooms methodically, sneaking under the red rope to search walls and ceilings and nooks and crannies. The bedrooms were first and, while interesting, didn't hint at anything like what they were looking for. Sydney had hoped to find pictures of ancestors along the hallway, representing the “dead fathers”, but it only yielded wallpaper and a horrible painting of a frightened girl under the pale light of the moon. Sydney studied it for several minutes, noting the terror on the girl's face, her slashed clothing, and a shadow that fell across her trembling body. The plaque underneath said: “The prey. Painting by William Harrington, 1803. Donated to the museum by its founder, Patricia Harrington.” “The Harrintongs are one creepy family,” Nigel said from behind her, making her jump. “Yes, they are.” She knew they were on to something as soon as they entered the library. At first, she wasn't sure why. There were the expected books from floor to ceiling, with gaps to allow for windows, paintings, and a big mahogany desk with a dusty globe. “Search carefully, Nigel,” she said, “I think we might have something here.” “Okay.” As they had in the other rooms, they stepped over the waist high ropes. Sydney went to the desk, and Nigel went to the bookshelves. She had just knelt to study the drawers on the front of the desk, wondering if they could be hiding what they sought, when Claudia and Karen entered noisily. Sydney glanced up. “I thought you guys were checking out downstairs.” “There wasn't much down there,” Karen told her. “How are you guys making out?” “We haven't found anything yet either.” “What about that?” Claudia asked, pointing up. The others followed her finger, which was pointed at one of the ceiling's corners. Along the molding, as white as bone, was a cross. Looking at the other corners, Sydney saw that all of them had small but perfect crosses. A slow smile spread over her face. “What do you want to bet that, unlike the rest of the molding, those crosses are made of stone?” “Yeah,” Nigel replied, “and I think I found something too.” “What's that?” She moved across the room to see what he was looking at. He reached into the bookcase and brought out a tome bound with red leather. This, he handed to Sydney. “This shelf has four of these.” “What are they?” she asked. “Family histories, from the time the Clarks came over from Europe until about 1950. These records were kept even after the house was turned into a museum.” Sydney flipped through the book in excitement. “So, it wasn't pictures after all, Nigel. Family records!” “Then, we're definitely on the right track?” Karen asked. “It looks like it.” Claudia looked at the piece of paper she still had crumpled in her hand. “So...we just need to figure out what Nic meant about 'horror of death' and 'birth of life'.” Sydney's eyes scanned the room. Not far from where she was standing, there were two paintings, side by side. These were also by William Harrington. One of the paintings was of a slender, blond haired, green eyed woman emerging from some sort of leaf, her arms reaching towards the sun, her face bathed in light and full of ecstasy. The other was of the same woman, lying in a field full of flowers, her heart pierced with an arrow and blood trickling down her pale skin. In both paintings, the woman was naked. They were titled “Beginning” and “End”. “There.” Her hand went instinctively to Nigel's shoulder. “I think you've got it, Syd,” he replied almost immediately. Claudia and Karen went over to study the paintings, while Sydney and Nigel shared a triumphant look. “Do you think the whole family is crazy?” Claudia asked, squinting to better see the woman in the painting's wounds. “They just might be,” Sydney said, “though Cougar is nice enough. My uncle shouldn't be the only one locked up—at least he's harmless.” She joined the other two to also study the paintings. As she got closer, she noticed that both of them had a small round circle about the size of the pad of her thumb on the lower right hand corner. Up close, the circles turned out to be miniature symbols matching the cougar on the coin. She ran a gentle finger over the one on “Beginning”, feeling that the texture was just slightly different. She pushed harder and heard a small click. “Karen, can you press the cat symbol on the lower right hand corner of that painting?” “Cat symbol?” Karen walked up to the painting. “Oh, I see it!” She reached out and pushed. Sydney heard another click before a section of the wall moved away to reveal an opening and a very dark flight of stairs. Used to this sort of thing, Sydney dug in her satchel and found flashlights. She handed them around before taking one for herself. She ran a glance over her friends and said, “Ready?” The three of them nodded as one. Sydney would have found it funny if the whole thing weren't so serious. Claudia and Karen looked slightly frightened but Nigel, for once, looked determined. There was not a hint of fear on his face. When had that changed? She wondered. When had he become so brave? But then, she thought, he had always been brave. Courage wasn't not being afraid. Courage was being terrified of the demon and steadfastly going forward to meet it anyway. Nigel had never refused to go where she led. She never had to question that, and she had never had to question him. He met her eyes and asked, “What?” “Nothing. Let's go.” Sydney went first. She liked going first because she could deal with any threat before it reached the rest of her party. The stairs were stone, and the air was stale and cold. The walls were also stone, made from blocks, and slightly damp. “Watch your step,” Sydney said behind her as she shone her light ahead. Karen was directly behind her, and Nigel brought up the rear. As they descended, a slight breeze tickled Sydney's face and played with her hair. She pushed away cobwebs and carefully stepped as she had instructed the others. They were quiet, which was unusual, at least for Claudia. The stairs went down until they would have been parallel with the house's basement. She could tell the moment they went underground because the air turned even colder. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Sydney shone her light around. They were in a small room with stone walls and an earthen floor. The room itself was empty. She stepped into it, running her light around again, this time more slowly. “It's a dead end!” Claudia said, exasperation in her voice. “I don't think so.” This was Nigel. He had wandered a bit away from the others and was staring at the wall furthest from them. Sydney hurried over to see what he'd found. As she got closer, her light joined Nigel's, illuminating words written in the wall's stone. Her mouth opened slightly as she moved her light to the top and began to read. Written there, with every word carved into a different piece of stone, was a poem that looked all too familiar. Darkness comes on an unsuspecting world It haunts the night The stillness breaks with one shrill cry Scream and moan, flesh and bone “I still hate that poem,” Claudia commented as she and Karen came up beside Sydney. “Yes,” she agreed, “but this time, it is a lock just waiting for its key.” “What do you mean?” Sydney reached into her pocket and drew out the coin, once more caressing its words with gentle fingers. She didn't even have to read them in the dim light because she knew them by heart: Darkness. Claws. Teeth. Blood. Haunts. Crush. Heart. Dust. Shrill. Victims. Cat. Moon. Scream. Bone. Feeds. It finally made sense. She moved closer, but motioned the others to stay back in case there was a trap. Coming within arm's length of the wall, she studied it without touching it to make sure she really understood the clue. A small indentation the same size as the coin at the base of the poem clinched it for her. Carefully, Sydney put the coin in the indentation, with the words pointed out. Then, she reached up and touched the stone containing the word “darkness”. It gave a little, and she heard a faint click. “The coin tells you which words to press to unlock the door,” Nigel explained to Karen and Claudia. Sydney smiled to herself, pleased that Nigel had also figured it out. “Not to mention which words to press to avoid triggering a trap,” she added. “You think there's a trap?” Karen asked. “If what's in here is precious enough to kill for, there are traps.” She touched the word “claws” and was rewarded with another faint click. Slowly, she went through the words, repeating each one in her mind before she pressed it. She did not want to make a mistake. As her fingers pressed “feeds”, the wall gave a groan and a shudder. Claudia squeaked, and Sydney, from the corner of her eye, saw Karen grab Nigel's arm. With a horrible screech, the wall began to rise. Beyond it was another room, vast and giving off a stale, musty scent. Near the door, Sydney's light revealed the remains of three people. Besides the corpses, the room contained several chests. At first glance, she guessed there were at least twenty. All were wooden with big golden latches but no locks. As the others entered, Claudia said, “Eww, Sydney. Do all of your adventures involve dead people?” “A good many,” Nigel answered. “We do look for relics.” “I wonder what's in those chests.” This was Karen, her blue eyes wide. Sydney threw her a look. “Then, let's see, shall we?” “Are there traps?” She stopped a moment, getting the feel of the room. Nothing dangerous jumped out at her. She just felt death and age and silence. “I don't think so, just be careful. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if I give a warning, do what I say without question. Okay?” Karen and Claudia both agreed. Nigel didn't have to, he had done this so many times that his instincts were as good as hers. She carefully moved forward, senses alert. Reaching the first chest, Sydney knelt to open it. She touched the latch and paused, but still no trap manifested itself. The others scattered to various chests across the room, but they waited for her before opening any of them. She flipped the latch and raised the lid. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise as she took in what was inside. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been books and paper. Absently, she heard Claudia exclaim that she had found jewelry in her trunk. It seemed not all the chests were filled with paper. Not knowing how fragile the contents were, Sydney was extremely careful as she picked up the top book. She flipped through it, noting it had names and dates. It took a moment to recognize it was a genealogy. Starting with Patricia and Ezekiel, it went back...and back...and back...With amazement, she saw that the records went back further than any she had ever seen. The next book was just a tome of Ezekiel Harrington's poetry. She set it aside quickly, in no way interested. The third book was a journal. It was old, older than the genealogy, and the cover appeared to be some sort of skin. She ran her hands over it, feeling its texture. Something told her that the skin hadn't come from an animal. Her hands opened the book at a random page and she began to read. Though the entry was dated over a hundred years prior to Ezekiel Harrington's poems, and about fifty years before William Harrington's paintings, she immediately saw it was filled with the same theme. Blood and death and hunter and prey. At first, Sydney thought the author was just the first in a long line of loonies. And then she read a passage that made the whole thing clear. She knew as soon as she read it that this wasn't part of the man's insanity. Something deep inside of her believed. Everything they'd learned flashed through her mind, and all the pieces seemed to fall together as she read: “The night comes. I can feel the desire coursing through my veins. It burns like fire and calls like sweet love. It fills all my emptiness, taking me from man to beast. I need it. I crave it. I must have it. 'Soon, my mind will go as the transformation I live for and the hunger only raw flesh can feed washes over me. 'Teeth will grow to rip and tear. Blood will drip down my pale fur, gloriously sweet. 'Words cannot describe the moment when the sun sets and my body becomes fluid. I choose the type; I choose the shape. My body's form is up to me, and that is a heady power. 'I have chosen my victim. She is young and beautiful, the daughter of the blacksmith, barely into her teens. Anticipation makes me count the minutes. Yes, it's only minutes now...” Sydney skipped ahead a bit and saw that an entry was made the next morning, describing the author's hunt and his kill. Not usually squeamish, she felt her stomach protest lightly at the images and closed the book. The trunk held family papers, ones that told a sickening tale. The cat was not just a symbol for the Harringtons. Even though the idea was almost too fantastical to contemplate, it appeared the family was one of werecats. She dug through some more of the papers. Some were boring birth and death announcements, but others supported what the journal had said. She learned that all those born with the ability were green-eyed and that, after the setting of the sun, they could change into any breed of cat, though, since moving to New England, the preference was that of a catamount. The whole thing seemed impossible, but she had seen too many impossible things become reality to discount it. As the others searched the rest of the trunks, Sydney continued to read the fascinating documents. The more she read, the more fascinated she became. She heard footsteps and knew it was Nigel without even looking. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, so she raised her eyes to his face. “What did you find, Syd?” “Documents. If Alfred Harrington knows they are here, he probably doesn't want them to see the light of day. In themselves, they might be worth killing for. What did you find?” “There's a fortune here—jewels, money, that sort of thing. If you're greedy, it's also worth killing for.” “Harrington definitely seemed like the greedy type to me.” “Me too. What exactly was in those documents of yours?” “It's amazing, Nigel. Here, read for yourself.” She handed him one of the more revealing documents. “You'll find it intriguing reading, I'm sure.” A voice from the doorway made four heads whirl in that direction. Sydney's stomach clenched as she saw Alfred Harrington standing there with a gun in his hand. “It's a shame you couldn't have waited a couple more hours,” he continued, “Then I could have given Nigel a first hand demonstration.” Claudia let out a screech and grabbed Karen, who gripped her back just as tightly. Sydney slowly got to her feet, aware that Harrington was too far away for a quick lunge to relieve him of his gun. “I knew Nic Parker had figured out how to find this place. I knew it! Twenty-five years I've waited for it to fall out of his addled brain.” His green eyes seemed to reflect the glow from the flashlights. “You knew what was here,” Sydney said slowly, trying to buy time. “You knew your great, great grandfather hid a huge treasure because he was paranoid of theft...” “He was?” Nigel asked, but she ignored him. “And you knew he hid the proof about what you and the rest of your family are. This is most precious of all to you because it could destroy you—especially if people found out you killed June Morrow...and Melody.” “It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, though if I would have known killing Melody would lock away any chance I had of finding this place, I wouldn't have done it. Now, at last, I'll be able to tie up loose ends. Nic can finally join his Melody.” Harrington let out an evil cackle more suited to the movies than real life. “You only let him live because he's the only one who knew how to both solve the code and find the treasure.” “He couldn't die when his brain held all the answers, no matter how long it took to extricate them.” “Did Nic know what the cat symbol really meant?” she asked, still watching the gun. Harrington shrugged. “I don't know. Cougar might have told him. I never asked.” He looked from Sydney to Nigel, then to Claudia, and finally to Karen. When he saw her, a feral smile claimed his face. It was a smile laced with hunger. Sydney had a feeling the hunger wasn't for Karen's body, at least in the human sense. Her mind flashed with the images in the journal and words from the awful poem flooded her mind. “I came here planning to shoot you,” Harrington said, “but gun's are so messy.” He nodded to the skeletons near his feet. “I see my ancestor had the right idea. It will be so much easier to let the room kill you for me.” “So, you're going to do what? Go out and and lock the door behind you?” Sydney asked. “Sure. If I wait long enough, you'll be dead when I get back.” Then, he nodded at Karen. “Except you. You're coming with me.” “What?” The frightened woman crowded even closer to Claudia. “She's not going anywhere,” Sydney said firmly. “Oh, yes. I think she is, because, if she doesn't, I'll shoot the rest of you, right here, right now, while she watches.” “No!” Karen cried. “I'll go with you.” “I thought you'd see it my way.” “Karen!” “It's all right, Syd.” The small blond extricated herself from Claudia and started moving across the room. Sydney knew she was right up to a point. Everything would be fine for a few more hours—until the sun set. Nigel flung a look at her, pleading with his eyes for her to do something to save Karen, and ultimately the rest of them as well. She gave him a look back, asking what he thought she could do with Harrington so far away that he could probably shoot two of them before she reached him. A look of desperation went over Nigel's face, and she was suddenly afraid he'd do something stupid. When Karen was close enough, Harrington grabbed her roughly and pulled her close. She swallowed hard, and she looked as if she might faint. Helplessly angry, Sydney watched with clenched fists. “Say hello to your aunt for me,” Harrington said cheerily as he steered Karen towards the door. Suddenly, Karen twisted in his grip, propelling her body sideways, towards him. Sydney's heart jumped as Karen's slight form slammed into that of her captor. He staggered, and a shot rang out, flying wildly and nearly hitting Claudia, who whimpered and dropped to the floor.
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