Chapter 3

Seventeen years earlier...

“No, she isn’t!” five-year-old Corec said to his half-brothers.

“Yes, she is,” Toman insisted. “Your mother’s buried in the crypt. Father’s just never taken you down there because you’re too little.”

Corec couldn’t remember his mother, but there was a portrait in the sitting room with Father, Isa, and Mother all together, dressed up in their finest clothes. Isa was Father’s wife, and she was also Toman’s and Branth’s mother. Corec liked to look at the portrait sometimes, wondering what his own mother had been like. Isa had always said Mother had been her best friend, but she’d never mentioned anything about the crypt.

“I’m not too little!”

“I know you’re not,” Toman said. “Come on, I found where Father keeps the key. Branth and I will take you down there.”

Corec stared at his brothers. They were older and liked to tease him and trick him a lot, so he was never sure when to believe them.

“Let’s go,” Branth said. “Unless you’re scared!”

“I’m not scared!” Corec said, and followed them through the large manor house until they reached the door to the conservatory. Cook used one side of the room to grow vegetables and herbs, but the other side was empty. The boys played there a lot, because with two walls and part of the roof made from glass, the room sometimes stayed warm during the day even in winter, as long as the sun was shining.

The conservatory was kept unlocked, so they went in, then stood in front of the heavier door leading to the crypt. It was built into the back wall of the room—a wall made of stone rather than glass. Corec had never seen inside the crypt since it was always kept locked. All he knew about it was that it was where Grandfather and Grandmother had gone after they’d died. Did his mother really go with them? He’d never known Grandfather—none of the boys had—but he remembered Grandmother sitting in a chair and sleeping a lot.

“Let’s see,” Toman said, inserting the key into the lock and wiggling it around until there was a light clicking sound, then a heaver metallic clank. He opened the door and they all peered down the stairs. The sun shining into the conservatory let them see to the bottom, but not much beyond that.

“It’s too dark,” Corec said.

“I’ll get a lantern,” Toman said. “While I’m doing that, you should go down, and then we’ll follow you with the light.”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“Because you’re the one who wanted to go down there! I’m only doing this as a favor to you.”

Corec had to admit that that made sense, but he still didn’t want to go down without the light. “I’ll wait till you get the lantern.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll be right behind you. I’ll go get it now, and Branth will hold the door open so you can see down the stairs. We have to hurry, before someone catches us—I thought you said you weren’t scared?”

“We’ve both been down there already,” Branth added. “When Grandmother died. You’re the only one who’s never gone.”

Corec was pretty sure his brothers were lying to him about his mother being in the crypt, but maybe if he went down first, he could prove it and show them that they couldn’t trick him. Toman went off to look for the lantern and Branth took over holding the door open, so Corec stepped onto the stone staircase.

As he descended the stairs, the air got cool and musty. At the bottom, he looked around. He couldn’t see very far into the darkness, but on either side of him were large, rectangular stone blocks. It looked like the tops were decorated in some way, but he wasn’t tall enough to see how.

“Where’s Toman?” he called out to Branth, looking up the stairs just in time to see the door swing shut, leaving him in complete darkness.

It’s all right, he told himself. He was a big boy, and big boys weren’t afraid of the dark. But it was certainly a lot of dark, more dark than he’d ever seen before.

“Branth, open the door!” he shouted in a panic.

When there was no response, Corec tried to run back up the stairs. Not able to see them in the dark, he caught his shoe on the first one and slammed his body down against the next several. He pushed himself up, dazed. He’d hurt his head, both arms, and his right knee, but if he cried, then Branth would win the game, so he wiped the tears away.

He started up the stairs again, slowly this time, carefully testing each one in the darkness with one foot before stepping on it. Partway up, he misjudged things and ended up tumbling all the way down, landing flat on his back at the bottom.

He’d hit his head again, and this time his mind grew foggy. Even after getting back to his feet, everything seemed floaty—it was almost like being dizzy, but without feeling like he was going to fall over.

When he tried to return to the stairs, he couldn’t find them. He reached out blindly in the darkness, but he’d gotten turned around in his fall and he wasn’t sure which direction to go. He started slowly feeling his way around the room. Some parts of the wall felt like natural stone, while others felt straight and smooth. In the less floaty part of his mind, he wondered if the smooth walls were actually part of the big stone blocks he’d seen, but in his daze, he couldn’t remember where they’d been.

He thought vaguely about shouting toward the door again, in case Toman had returned and would open it, but his head hurt and he couldn’t muster up the energy to yell.

Then, his searching hands found an opening in the rough stone wall he’d been following. Feeling around, it was just big enough for him to walk through without ducking. The floaty part of his mind couldn’t think of anything better to do, so he went through.

He ended up in a tight tunnel and followed it for a while, wondering if the stairs were ahead of him or behind him. He couldn’t remember anymore. He had no idea how long he’d been searching before it finally occurred to him that he was lost.

Sitting down, Corec decided it was all right to start crying. Just as he did, there was a whisper, as if someone was talking to him, but the floaty part of his mind couldn’t grasp it.

“Is someone there?” he asked.

You can hear me? You shouldn’t be there, child. Can you return home? It was a woman’s voice. She sounded kind, but Corec couldn’t tell where she was. Her voice echoed all around him.

“Are you my mother?”

There was a pause. No, I’m not. You should go home now. Do you know how?

“It’s too dark. I don’t remember where to go.”

Can you do this? There was a brief flash—almost a vision showing him something he didn’t recognize. And then you take this, and it goes here, and take the other one and wrap it around... The voice and the visions continued in that vein. It reminded Corec of when Magda was weaving on her loom, only it was all in his head.

He tried to follow along. It was difficult to move things that didn’t exist, but the voice was patient and waited for him after each step. Finally, he tied the last of the things around the other things, and a bright light appeared floating over his head, hurting his eyes.

Blinking, he looked for the woman who’d been talking to him, but he couldn’t see anyone.

“Where are you?” he asked.

I’m where I am, the voice said. Corec felt a gentle pressure, and his curiosity about the woman went to the floaty part of his mind, joining everything else he was having a hard time thinking about. Can you see how to get home now?