Chapter 6

I was glad I didn’t rush through the mirror. I stopped after passing through and stood at the top of a staircase. Light came from below. For the most part, it looked perfectly welcoming, unlike the basements I saw in numerous movies. I looked behind me, but only saw a mirror. I had to assume that this mirror worked the same as the one in the Den. Part of me wanted to touch it, just to see if my hand would pass through it, but I held off on the compulsion.

I focused on the stairs and descended them. I stopped at the bottom and stood in what looked to be a hallway of sorts. It was deathly quiet and smelled dry, dusty. The walls were all made of the same stone as the outside of the Manor. Hayden said the Vault was a magical construct created when the family rebuilt the Manor. It made me wonder about the manor’s construction. If they used magic, it seemed the Magi who built it simply carved everything out one huge block of the stone. I was certain the vault was underground, which would mean there wouldn’t be any windows. So, where the light came from?

A number of dark wooden doors stood out from the monotony of the stone, but nothing else adorned the walls. A statue stood not too far away from the stairs. I didn’t understand why there would be a statue but no other decorations. In all of the movies and TV shows I had seen when a vault was involved, the inside of the vault was always purely functional. There were never any decorations other than possibly some artwork being stored inside.

I looked around the staircase and saw more doors. The hallway continued around a corner. It made me wonder just how big this place was. I had to be careful. If this place was as big as Hayden’s story suggested it was, then I could get lost. It wasn’t a cozy thought.

“Can I help you?” asked a voice and I jumped.

I quickly spun around to find the source of the voice, but didn’t see anyone. “Hello?” I said. My voice was timid.

“Welcome to the vault, Lord Rosenbaum,” the disembodied voice said. “How may I be of service?”

There was a slight accent to the voice. It made me think ‘British, upper crust.’ I looked up and down the hallway again. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Sebastian. I am the caretaker of the vault.”

“Caretaker? Are you a Magical Construct too?”

“Good Heavens, no,” said the voice from behind me rather than sounding like it was coming from everywhere. The tone also suggested I had said something bad or insulting.

I turned to meet the man and found that the statue was not where it had been. I felt like I was in a horror movie and something was playing a game with me. I shifted my tone, trying to sound more confident than I really felt. “Where are you, Sebastian?”

“I am here,” he said, and the statue turned to face me.

My heart raced. I held my ground though, and looked the statue over. It resembled a butler in a tuxedo. Whomever carved the thing even added a receding hairline and little mustache. “If you’re not a magical construct, then what are you?”

“What do I look like?” asked the stone statue, sounding affronted. “I am a statue made of the same stone as was used to build the manor and this vault.”

“But you’re moving and talking,” I said.

He nodded. “That’s right. I’m not one of those limited constructs. They cannot touch anything. Therefore, they cannot clean anything.”

I nodded, trying desperately to get past my disbelief. “I apologize for my ... you’re a statue.”

His eyebrow arched. It was a very human, very life-like gesture. More than anything else, it helped to calm me down. I nodded. “Again, I apologize for my response. I wasn’t expecting to speak to...” and I waved at him.

“A talking statue?” he asked and I nodded. “No need to apologize, sir. I am only a statue. I have no feelings to hurt.”

“I would have said the same thing about a construct, but I have been proven wrong on that point.”

He looked at me again with that raised eyebrow. “And what construct convinced you of this?”

“My copy of Rho,” I said. “She’s usually with me all the time, but the manor’s defenses have disabled her.”

“All the time you say?” he asked. “It must be nice to be out and about, frolicking with normal people, doing something other than what you were created for.” There was resentment in his voice.

I nodded. “I believe she would agree.”

He rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Have you never been out of the vault?” I asked.

He looked at me again. “I am exceedingly aware of the contents of the vault, more so than anyone has ever been. If I were to leave the vault, any Magus worth half his salt could easily extract anything they wanted to know from me and potentially put the world of Magic in danger.” He stopped long enough to emulate taking a deep breath and then said, “As it stands, I cannot leave the vault. The defenses of the Manor see to that.”

I nodded. “Well, then your knowledge makes you the best adviser on why I’m here. I was sent to retrieve a key.”

“Very good,” he said. “Follow me, and listen well.” Then he moved past me. He didn’t walk so much as slide along the floor. Oddly, he didn’t make any grinding noises from stone on stone.

“The Vault consists of two-hundred and fifty-three rooms, not including the interconnecting hallways that we are now traversing. The design of each room will hold and protect specific types of magical items or historical documents. As a member of the family, newly accepted to the defenses of the Manor, I would suggest you only go where I take you. Each room requires a specific coded entry to access and leave.”

I frowned. “I thought the vault was protected by magic. Who added electronic protection?”

Sebastian stopped and turned to look at me. “Who said anything about electronic protection?”

I frowned at him. He turned and continued forward.

“The codes are specific spoken phrases with specific gestures. You must learn these to access the rooms as well as exit the rooms. The only room which does not require such access is the key room, which is where we have just arrived.” He stopped and turned with his hand held out to a door.