The Devil's Labyrinth

understanding what she meant, his grip tightened, too.

“It’s okay,” Ryan said, his voice sounding nowhere near as certain as his words. “It was two years ago.”

As Melody once more searched for the right words, Father Laughlin signaled the beginning of a hymn, and the entire crowd rose to their feet.

The entire crowd, save one.

Sofia Capelli still sat huddled in her place in the last pew, struggling against the terrible urge to vomit.

† † †

As the service wore on, Sofia felt her nausea fade slowly away, to be replaced with a strange vibration. It seemed to emanate from the floor beneath her feet, coming right up through her shoes and into her bones.

What was happening? She looked around, but nobody else seemed to have noticed.

She leaned forward and grasped the back of the pew in front of her.

It, too, vibrated.

Could it be an earthquake?

But it didn’t feel like an earthquake. It felt more like some kind of energy, flowing into her through her feet — and now her fingers — making her whole body hum. But what could it be? And why wasn’t it happening to anybody else? But as she looked around again she realized that everyone else in the chapel looked so intent on listening to every word Father Laughlin was saying that Sofia thought a bomb could go off and they wouldn’t notice.

Suddenly the people in the front pew stood up and Sofia felt a brief wave of relief — they must be feeling it, too! But no — they were just going toward the altar to file past Kip’s open casket to say a last good-bye before walking slowly up the aisle and out of the chapel.

There was no way Sofia was going to do that — the last thing she felt like doing was looking at a body.

The humming inside her flared, and for a second her vision faded and the whole chapel seemed to be illuminated by red light.

Blood-red light.

Sofia sat frozen in her place as the strength and power of the hum kept building. She closed her eyes to shut out the red glow, but without the light to distract her, the humming seemed even louder.

Louder, and somehow soothing.

It filled her chest, almost as if it could supplant her heartbeat. And not just her heartbeat, but her breathing as well.

It was as if the humming would supply all the energy she could ever need. She kept her eyes closed as a strength she’d never felt before flooded into her.

When she opened her eyes, she was alone in the chapel.

Had she fallen asleep? How could everyone else have left without her even noticing? But it didn’t matter. She was alone, and free to go. Except that when she stood up, the vibration only grew stronger, the humming intensifying.

Instead of moving through the doors, Sofia felt herself being drawn toward the front of the chapel.

Drawn toward the altar.

Without thinking, she moved silently down the aisle, never hesitating, never faltering, until she stood in front of Kip Adamson’s casket.

The vibration — the humming, the pure energy — was swirling all around her now, and as she gazed down into the open casket, she knew.

This was the source.

Kip Adamson’s body.

Sofia looked down upon his face, made up so skillfully that he looked as if he was only sleeping, and any touch might awaken him.

Any touch…

The vibration grew and swelled until every nerve in her body was tingling. Now she could almost pick out separate tones within the humming. Suddenly it sounded as if there were a voice deep within the sound.

A human voice.

Kip Adamson’s voice?

“What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What is it?”

Her hand, as if of its own volition, moved down and touched Kip’s right hand, avoiding the rosary that was wound between his fingers.

A surge of something — something dark, something dangerous — flowed through her fingers, up her arm and settled in her chest.

Something from Kip.

Something that had resided deep inside of him.

Something that now resided just as deep inside of her.

With the strange new energy flowing through her, Sofia turned to leave the chapel.

Standing at the doorway, watching her, were Melody Hunt, Darren Bender and Ryan McIntyre.

Sofia found the muscles of her face, willed them to smile, and walked up the aisle toward them.

† † †

The afternoon sun almost blinded Ryan as he emerged from the chapel into the late afternoon sun, but even in the glare he recognized his mother.

And not just his mother, either. Tom Kelly was there, too, talking to Father Sebastian.

Why were they here? Had they actually come to the funeral mass?

And why was his mother’s hand tucked through Tom Kelly’s arm exactly the way she used to tuck it through his father’s? Then he saw her spot him and pull her hand away from Tom Kelly to wave to him. But she pulled it away too quickly, which was as good as telling Ryan she was feeling guilty about something. But what? Bringing Tom Kelly here? Or holding his arm the way she used to hold his father’s. Wishing he could just turn around and head for the dorm, but knowing he couldn’t, he started toward her. “There’s my mom,” he told Melody. “And the guy she’s dating, who’s buddies with Father Sebastian.”

“You’re kidding,” Melody whispered, keeping in step with Ryan. “You’ll never be able to get away with anything!”

“Tell me,” Ryan muttered as he managed a smile for his mother.

“Hi, honey,” she said, opening her arms to give him a hug — which he barely managed to sidestep — and a kiss on the cheek, which he had no chance of avoiding at all.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You didn’t even know Kip Adamson, did you?”

His mother reddened slightly. “Actually, it was more an excuse to see you,” she said, and now Ryan felt himself flushing.

“Hi,” Melody said, smiling at his mother while trying not to stare at Tom Kelly.

“This is Melody Hunt,” Ryan said. “She’s tutoring me in Catholic History.”

“My pal’s specialty,” Tom Kelly said, clapping Father Sebastian on the shoulder and grinning at him. “How’s our boy doing?”

Our boy? Ryan thought. I’m not your boy, and I never will be.

“You look good,” Tom said, appraising Ryan in his school uniform. “How’s life at St. Isaac’s?”

“Fine,” Ryan said, keeping his smile carefully in place and reminding himself that his mother had a right to see whoever she wanted, and there was no point in being a brat about it. He didn’t have to like Tom Kelly, but he didn’t have to try to make his mother miserable, no matter how much he might feel like it.

“Of course it’s only his first week,” Melody said. “So he doesn’t really know what it’s like yet.”

“I gather you’ve been here a while?” Teri asked.

“Since ninth grade,” Melody replied.

“And if we’re late for class, they’ll put us both back in ninth grade,” Ryan said. “And didn’t you say you needed to get your geometry book?” he added, silently praying she’d get the message that even though they still