Gabriel stepped back with raised eyebrows.
Swinging his cane back inside, Mr. Brooks tapped it on the floor again. “Hup, hup! Follow me.” He spun around and quickly disappeared down a black hallway to the right.
Hup, hup?
For a moment, nobody moved. The light tapping of rain on the roof turned to soft thudding as the storm picked up.
Nate leaned over and whispered to Gabriel, “Dude, this is the perfect setting for a murder. And Mr. Brooks doesn’t seem entirely…stable.”
“Shh,” Gabriel nudged him.
Heather stepped into the haunted house and looked back at everyone. “Well…come on.” She turned and headed into the house, following Mr. Brooks into darkness.
Scarlet went next, followed by Gabriel, and then Nate, each of them walking into the black.
Gabriel had to physically restrain himself from swatting at the back of his neck. The nerves that kept crawling up his spine felt more like spiders than chills and he was almost certain a rat had just scurried across his shoe.
A rat.
Thunder sounded outside and the dark walls of the house rumbled in response.
The hallway they walked down was dark and dusty, and seemed to get narrower with every step. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling and dust covered the doorknobs of every closed room they passed.
Shelves lined the hallway, covered in more dust and cobwebs and…mounted owls? Gabriel looked closely at the figures on the shelves.
Yep.
Lots and lots of stuffed and mounted owls.
They looked alive. Their beady eyes and scaly talons were permanently frozen into place and strategically perched on fake sticks and clay rocks.
Their glassy eyes seemed to follow Gabriel as he moved forward behind Scarlet. He couldn’t make out much ahead except for Mr. Brooks’ big, white hair.
The hallway came to an abrupt end and Mr. Brooks whipped around, tapping his cane into the floorboards so hard Gabriel felt the vibration come up through his shoes.
Everyone froze, except Nate who plowed into Gabriel from behind with a yelp.
Gabriel pursed his lips as he looked back at a wide-eyed Nate and whispered. “What is your deal?”
Nate whispered, “I hate being last,” and nervously looked behind himself.
Gabriel shook his head as faced forward.
“What I’m about to show you,” Mr. Brooks began, speaking fast, “is my private collection of materials from the last few hundred years. I would appreciate it if you would handle everything with care. And be careful not to sneeze. Moisture is bad for books.”
Sure.
No sneezing. Got it.
Mr. Brooks turned back around and, for the first time, Gabriel noticed a tall, thin, wooden door with a brass handle hidden in the dusty shadows at the end of the hallway.
Mr. Brooks really needed to invest in some light bulbs.
And a cleaning crew.
And maybe an exterminator.
With an ominous creeeak, Mr. Brooks slowly pushed open the door. A sliver of light spilled into the hallway and Gabriel strained his neck to see what was beyond the door.
A tall flight of stairs leading down into a lit room.
With Nate behind him, Gabriel followed Scarlet, who followed Heather, who followed Mr. Brooks down the stairs.
One at a time, they descended into the light, until all five of them had reached Mr. Brooks’ cellar.
Or, rather, the most impressive personal library Gabriel had ever seen.
Scarlet could barely believe her eyes.
The cellar looked nothing like the house upstairs. Well-lit and vast, the room was delightful and not spooky at all.
Divided into three sections, it was separated by several thick pillars rising from the floor.
On the far left stood rows and rows of books. Old books, new books, big books, tiny books…books everywhere.
In the center, there was a giant square table made of wood, with thick legs, a glass top, and enough room for three chairs to fit comfortably at each side.
And on the right side of the cellar was a collection of maps. Some hung on walls, some were laid out on podiums and others were rolled up and shelved like books.
Hundreds of bare light bulbs were strung from the ceiling at different heights. All different shapes and sizes, each bulb gave off a different glow making it look like the cellar was lit with hundreds of unique, round stars.
It was…sorta beautiful.
“Can I have your names?” Mr. Brooks’ voice was loud and crisp.
Heather blinked apologetically. “Oh, yes. Of course. This is Nate,” Nate waved, “and Gabriel,” Gabriel did not wave, “And this is Scarl—”
With lightning fast movement, Mr. Brooks was in Scarlet’s face, his nose an inch away from hers. He spoke low and precise, his spectacled eyes examining her. “I don’t know what magic this is,” he looked her up and down, “but if you have come for the Bluestone weapons, you have wasted your time. I no longer have them.”
Everyone stared at Scarlet with parted lips and confused expressions.
“Uh….” Scarlet took a small step back, severely perplexed. “I’m not sure I know—”
“What did you do with them?” Gabriel asked with a curious look.
Mr. Brooks spun around. “They are gone! Out of my hands. I sold them to the red woman.”
“The red woman?” Gabriel asked carefully.
“Yes, I made a fortune!” Mr. Brooks tapped his cane a few times.
“Who was this red woman?” Gabriel tilted his head.
Mr. Brooks leaned in to Gabriel. “Her shoes were tall and almost as red as her hair. And she smelled like…like….”
Scarlet swallowed. “Like cinnamon and coffee?”
Mr. Brooks whipped around, his bathrobe sailing in a circular motion. “Yes!”
Laura.
My guardian bought weapons from this guy?
Gabriel didn’t seem fazed. “Did you sell all of the weapons?”
Nate shifted his weight nervously.
Mr. Brooks pointed to a nearby podium with a glass case resting on top. “All but one.” He muttered, “I can’t very well deplete my family’s most precious collection in one transaction.”
The podium was too far away to see what was inside, but no one moved to get a closer look.
“No worries,” Gabriel said casually. “We’re not here for the weapons.”
The old man eyed him skeptically. “No?”
Gabriel raised a brow. “Not today, anyway.”
“We’re just here for information,” Nate clarified, his eyes drifting to the podium every few seconds.
“I see.” Mr. Brooks nodded as he gestured about the room. “Well, you are welcome to view my collection. As you can see, I try to keep things organized and I’d appreciate if you’d do the same. You have one hour.” He looked at the four of them pointedly, swinging his cane in their direction like he was going to poke them each in turn. But he didn’t.
His voice was thick with warning. “Explore carefully, children. Knowledge can be deadly.” Mr. Brook’s green bathrobe flew out behind him as he rapidly ascended into the darkness above.