House of Salt and Sorrows(35)

There was no door.

“You said it was probably concealed, right?” Fisher said, sensing our flagging spirits. “Let’s look around. Maybe there’s a strange rock or a symbol or…something.”

The far wall of the cave behind the altar was covered over with chips of sea glass, forming a wave that crested over a statue of Pontus. Cast of gold and taller than even Fisher, the sea god raised his trident high above his head, as if ready to strike. He looked like a man, mostly. His chest was broad and muscular, but his lower half was a riot of tentacles.

The twisting arms reminded me of the horrible bathtub dream from the day of the triplets’ ball. Even now I could feel the rows of suction cups along my legs, gripping and grasping. With a shudder, I turned my back on the golden statue.

“Does anyone see anything?” I asked, shifting my focus back to my sisters.

Verity and Mercy stooped low over the sides of the stone benches. Honor knelt beside them, running her fingers over the seashells decorating the bases.

“Nothing yet.”

Rosalie shook her head. She and Camille traced their hands across the stone walls, looking for catches or hidden hinges. Ligeia was at the mouth of the cave, peering at the cliffs surrounding the entrance. Fisher stood nearby, ready to catch her should she lose her balance.

I joined Lenore at the altar, caressing its silver top. “Where else could it be?” I asked. “Maybe in the gallery? There’s the painting of the Brine. Or the bathroom on the fourth floor? The tub is a big clamshell—maybe Pontus put the door there?”

“I thought for sure we’d find something here,” Rosalie said. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head, sweeping her gaze over the small cave. “Did anyone try the statue?” She circled around it, appraising every angle. “Is it me or does it look like the trident can move? See the gap between his fingers?”

Fisher was the only one tall enough to properly inspect it. “I think it actually does….” He reached out on tiptoe and grabbed at the metal rod. With a rusted shriek, the trident spun around so its jeweled front now faced the back of the altar.

And then the wall began to shift.

It looked like a trick at first, the chips of sea glass glinting and sparkling in the dying afternoon light. But they were moving, spinning on unseen pins. They twisted and twisted until freed from the wall, spilling onto the stone floor with a shower of sparks and revealing a gaping tunnel entrance.

We watched the transformation in stunned silence until Verity darted forward and bent down, pressing her hand to the ground.

“It’s wet!” she exclaimed. “The sea glass turned to water!”

“That’s impossible,” Fisher said, stepping in. He patted the area around Verity. When he looked up, his brown eyes were wide with wonder. “How is this happening?”

“There really was a door,” Camille whispered before breaking into a grin. “We found the door!”

“We found a door,” I clarified, staring at the open maw in front of us. “But where does it lead?”

Honor crept closer, peering down its length. “There are torches….”

Her voice was flat, almost as if she was in a trance. As she approached the entrance, Fisher scooped her up in his arms, waylaying her. “Not so fast, little one.” He carried her over to the triplets’ safe embrace. “I think I should be the one to go in first. Just in case.”

He stepped forward, his hands balling into fists. His breath sounded ragged, and for a moment, I thought I could see puffs of it in the air, as if the tunnel was much colder than the shrine. He glanced back at us. “Do I just think about a place as I go through?”

Though Camille nodded, she looked horror-struck, sickened at what her desire had brought about. “I suppose?”

With one last look at us, Fisher entered the tunnel, ducking beneath the low ceiling.

“Oh!” we heard him gasp, his voice thick with astonishment.

Then he was gone.

Verity looked down the passage, as close as she could without actually going in. “He’s not there!”

We all stepped forward then to look for ourselves, but she was right. The tunnel appeared to stretch for miles through the cliffs. Torches hung from the sides, their flames flickering and lush, but there was no trace of Fisher.

“What have we done?” Lenore murmured, clutching her hand to her chest. Her face grew white, her eyes too wide. She stumbled back to one of the shrine’s benches. “Where is he?”

“He’ll be back soon, I’m sure,” Camille said.

“You don’t know that! What if he never comes back?” Verity sobbed. She pressed herself into my skirts, trembling. “What if we killed him?”

I reached out into the tunnel as far as my shaking fingers would go. A cry of alarm choked my throat as my hand disappeared before me. There was my arm, my elbow, but at my wrist, I ceased to be. I waggled my fingers, certain I was moving them, but saw nothing.

Seeing my missing hand, Honor let out a shriek and ran into Ligeia’s arms. I jerked my arm back, suddenly terrified something on the other side might pull me in. For a horrible moment, my flexed fingers looked as if they were a stranger’s.

“Are you all right, Annaleigh?” Ligeia twisted Honor around to show her my hand was still attached.

“I think so?” It was in one piece but felt strange, full of pins and needles.