The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(82)

This seemed to pique his interest. “Let’s have a look, then.”

We went up the back steps and entered the shadowy house. We moved stealthily, but every pop and creak reminded me of the lurking presence beneath the rotting floorboards. I shuddered to think what would happen if one of us fell through.

Removing the brass key from my pocket, I opened the door beneath the stairs and then paused to listen as a draft stirred the keys inside.

Devlin came up behind me. “How is it you have a key to that lock?”

“It’s a long story and we don’t have much time. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know later, but right now we need to get settled.”

“So mysterious,” Devlin murmured, but I could hear the anticipation in his voice. The discovery excited me, too, but I’d been in Rose’s sanctuary before. I knew what might be waiting for us in the dark.

Devlin played the penlight over the walls as he walked around the room. I took out my larger flashlight and tapped on the bulb.

“Any idea what these numbers mean?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure I know of one purpose. That’s why we’re here. But as to the larger picture, I wonder if the walls are a map of some sort.”

“To what?”

“I’ve no idea. It’s just a theory.” A far-fetched one at that, but a part of me couldn’t help wondering if the numbers could somehow lead me to Rose’s long-lost key. As much as I tried to dissuade myself from giving credence to Nelda’s story about a sister key that could lock the door to the dead world forever, the hope continued to burn that one day this might all be over.

I let my gaze travel around the space, searching the corners for lurking shadows. “To the right of where you’re standing, you can see sunlight streaming in through a tiny hole in the wall. The opening is an aperture. This whole room is a camera obscura.”

“Camera obscura?”

“It means dark room in Latin.”

Devlin placed his hand in front of the beam, temporarily blocking the light. “It’s like a pinhole camera.”

“Yes, exactly. Except on a large scale. Do you have your phone handy? We need an alarm for straight-up eleven our time.” Once he’d set the timer, I nodded. “As soon as I close the door, turn off your flashlight and put away your phone so the display doesn’t shine into the room. We’ll need enough time for our eyes to become accustomed to the dark before the alarm goes off.”

I shut the door, we doused our torches and darkness descended. I felt my way across the room to Devlin.

“Steady,” he said as he took my arms.

I put my hand against his chest and felt his heartbeat. It was only slightly elevated whereas my own heart thudded painfully. I didn’t sense another presence in the room or beneath the floorboards, but the malcontent’s absence worried me. Where was the entity and what did it have planned for us?

By the time the ringer sounded, my eyes had sufficiently adjusted to the gloom so that I saw what appeared to be the roofline of the outbuilding upside down on the wall. The weather vane mounted on the peaked roof served as a pointer. I watched in fascination as the inverted finial came to rest on the wall of numbers.

On the number seven to be precise.





Forty-Six

“How could you possibly know that would happen?” Devlin asked in awe. We were still sitting in the dark watching the pointer hover over the number seven.

“I didn’t. But I knew the time in the poem meant something important.”

“But the poem doesn’t take into account the position of the sun at various times of the year. Tell me how you knew that would happen today,” he insisted.

“I knew because Rose knew.”

“Rose is dead. She’s been dead for decades.” His voice held a strained, hushed quality that made me shiver.

“There’s a reason I was drawn to this place at this particular time. None of this is coincidental. Don’t you see? Rose summoned me here so that I could find this.”

“Amelia—”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I can prove it. Let’s go back to the cemetery and find the number on a headstone. If nothing’s there, then maybe I’m wrong. But if we uncover another clue...”

He rose and pulled me to my feet. “Then what? Where does it end?”

“When the puzzle is solved.” When the murderer was revealed and the ghosts were finally free. Only then would my great-grandmother be able to rest in peace.

*

A few minutes later, we were back in the cemetery and had located the corresponding headstone. Like all the other markers, the number was etched into the face, but I could detect nothing extraordinary about the grave or the monument. The name in the inscription meant nothing to me. The deceased was but one of three dozen colonists whose lives had abruptly ended on that fateful day.

I dropped to the ground beside the grave, tracing the symbols with my fingertip as I searched for the next clue. Devlin knelt on the other side and smoothed his hand over the surface of the stone.

“Do you feel anything?” I asked.

“No, do you?”

“There’s something strange about the key engraving,” I said. “The bow looks a bit like an eye. And see those three tiny perforations? I believe that’s a keyhole.”