The smell of damp earth intensified as our boots and shoes ground against the bits of stone dusting the steps. Bas finally declared we had arrived. “Would you try that variation of the Illuminata spell again, Beryl?”
I stumbled as Beryl’s jacket slid off her shoulders and almost came off in my hand. “Sorry,” I mumbled, readjusting the jacket and shifting my grip to the belt of her dress.
“You okay back there?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Beryl reached behind and patted my hand before lifting her right arm. “Lucerna lumen.” A faint sputtering issued from a niche in the wall.
“This cellar is quite old,” Maritza said. “I believe it was here before the building on top of us was built. The candles may need coaxing. Step as close as you can to each one, then repeat the spell.”
Beryl followed her advice. Every time she spoke, the ensuing moment of silence was followed by the sound of flames licking hungrily at wicks.
“Alabastair, where is the portal?”
“Here. Embedded into the wall. It’s quite old.” Alabastair had planted himself near the wall opposite the stairwell and was sweeping the beam of his flashlight around the outline of a twisted tree. Three big, bare branches rose away from the wall and into the beamed ceiling. A few roots anchored the tree where dirt met stone.
“Darling, I’ve heard rumor of portal trees that have turned to stone, but never of one embedded in stone,” Maritza said. She pressed her hands to the upper section of the trunk, turned her head, and brought her ear close. “What do you make of this?”
“Given that Rémy made no mention of a petrified portal—and that it now appears to take one to an underground location—we may be dealing with a high calcite content in whatever water source provided sustenance to this particular tree.”
“Can you tell if this portal tree takes travelers to only the one destination?”
“Funny you should ask, Clementine, because I think it does—especially in its current state of immobility.”
I half raised my arm and gave a little wave. “Anyone else ready to give this a try?”
“Let’s not rush, sobrina.” Maritza lifted her head away from the tree’s trunk and assayed the wall to either side. “Bas, did you see any portal stones? Or did you use one of your universal keys to activate the tree when you and Alderose made the first trip out?”
“I used a universal key. And then I found something peculiar.” Alabastair tugged on the fronts of his pant legs and crouched. I winced when the hem of his cloak settled on the dirt. I liked that cloak. He reached into one of its pockets and withdrew an elegant pocketknife. Digging the tip of the knife into the packed dirt, he scraped until the metal met another hard substance. Bas palmed his discovery, then held it up for our perusal.
The object was a hollow, clear-glass marble. “Either of you ever seen one of these before?” he asked. My sister and I shook our heads.
“Could it be a bead?” Mom had trays and bottles and tins of beads back in her shop, everything from tiny seed beads to much larger ones made from crystals, coral, amber, and even bone.
Alabastair examined the marble more closely, twirling it as he did. “I don’t see any holes, Clementine, so no, I don’t think it’s a bead.”
“Is that what I think it is, my darling?” My aunt’s entire mood shifted, from curious to cautious.
“I can’t say for certain.” Alabastair used his knife to knock the last bit of dirt off the marble before slipping both into his pocket. “I think that for now we shall continue to use a universal key to get us to our destination and back again. And I shall send this to the witches who share your brother’s confidence. They will know how to test the material.”
“Wait, are you two going to fill us in on the mystery marble?” Beryl asked.
“Later,” Maritza said. “One mystery at a time.”
The necromancer cleared his throat. “The other end of this portal exposed me to Alderose’s aversion to tight spaces. Do either of you have any phobias I need to know of?”
“Yes,” Beryl and I answered. “I’m afraid of heights,” I said, “and Beryl’s—”
“Not afraid of anything. Well, except not having access to a clean bathroom or my toiletry bag.”
It felt good to laugh. My shoulder brushed the closest wall. I recoiled from the sensation of the cold seeping out of the stone and moved closer to Bas, Mari, and Beryl.
The portal dumped us out.
Alabastair enfolded Maritza in his arms. Beryl and I landed on our hands and knees. Cold air grazed the front of my body. I shifted into a crouch, brushed grit off my hands, and peered into the maw of a tunnel. Behind me, Beryl yipped.
“I cut my hand on something.”
Alabastair tended to my sister while I examined the tunnel’s entrance. The bottom lip of the opening sat at shin height and was about three feet across. The air flowing into the room was definitely colder, but it didn’t smell rank, or musty. It almost—almost—reminded me of the scent of river mist.
“I’m going in,” I said. “Anyone object?”
“Yes,” my three companions shouted in unison before Beryl tried the lucerna lumen spell once again, this time directing her efforts to the interior of the tunnel. Nothing happened.
“In the interest of following the doors that are opening to us, I think I should explore the tunnel. With or without light.” I took a breath and added diplomatically, “Alabastair could come with me. Don’t necromancers have really good eyesight at night?”
“Yes, we do, except in situations like tunnels, where it’s probable we’ll pass beyond the ambient light leaking from this portal stop.”
I’d hoped to lift the mood, but realized Beryl’s concern was genuine. I gave her a hug and pointed out that, together, the necromancer and I would put any major decisions to a vote.
“Your track record for acting within the confines of group decision-making isn’t all that stellar, Sissy.”
“I promise to
