'Did you feel the shift?' Franklyn asked in response.
'The shift?' Wood repeated thoughtfully. 'Is that what it was?'
'I felt a shake of the earth,' Harry said, 'as if a giant had stomped nearby. Is that what you are referring to?'
'That was not a shake of the earth,' a new voice said calmly. James looked up and saw Professor Jackson stride into the light from the rear of the room. His face was set into a grim scowl, but his eyes were electric as he glanced from face to face, ending on Harry. 'The earth did not move,' he went on. 'Your brain merely attributed the sensation to the most obvious source, but the shift took place on a much deeper, fundamental level.'
'I felt it,' Zane nodded. 'It was as if the whole world suddenly stopped moving, making everything stumble for a moment.'
Merlin's voice was solemn in the darkness. 'But it wasn't the world, was it, Professor? It was, if I may be so bold as to guess, the very fabric of reality.'
'It was a dimensional shift,' Jackson agreed soberly. 'How deep a shift, we have yet to discover.'
'And the occurrence of this… shift,' Harry clarified, tilting his head, 'is why you suspect the Hall of Archives was attacked?'
Jackson nodded once, curtly. 'Mere lightning is not capable of what transpired here tonight, Mr. Potter.'
'I suggest we avoid using the elevator,' Franklyn announced, turning and striding toward the recessed door in the rear of the room. 'Wands out, everyone. We cannot be certain that what happened here is entirely over. Professor Jackson and I will lead. Mother Newt, if you would be willing to stand guard at the upstairs entrance.'
Newt agreed to this with palpable reluctance. She moved next to the inner archive door and produced her wand with a flourish, leaving a trail of pink sparks in the air.
'Careful, dearies,' she said, smiling cryptically as James, Zane, and Ralph passed her, heading into the massive chamber beyond.
Inside, Ralph and Zane craned their heads at the marching rows of shelved miscellany and the massive chasm that dropped into the Archive's spiraling depths. Silently, Franklyn led the group toward the stairway, which they began to descend in single file, with James, Ralph, and Zane in the rear.
As the group circled the throat of the Archive's staircase, James could see that the strange gold and purple light of the object at the bottom, the thing Franklyn had called the Vault of Destinies, was diminished to the point of darkness. Even more unsettling, the complicated motion of the Vault had completely ceased. It sat in the dim depths like a sort of gigantic gold and glass rose, its petals curled around some hidden shape. The group tromped on in somber silence, listening only to the shuffling clang of their feet on the metal steps. As they passed the lowest of the Archive's dizzying levels, the air grew so cold that James could see his breath puffing out before him. He shivered and pulled his blazer around him, buttoning it up.
Finally, the group reached the floor of the Archive and congregated in the darkness at the base of the stairs. The lowest level was smaller than the rest, and nearly empty. The stone walls dripped with cold water and tiny stalactites hung from the bottom of the stairs above like icicles. The center of the space was a round pool, its water mirror-flat. Over this, the Vault of Destinies was suspended inside a complicated iron framework. Close up, the Vault seemed quite large, slightly taller than Merlin, and comprised entirely of leaf-shaped golden shutters and purplish prisms. In motion, the overlapping shapes would form a dizzying shield of flashing metal and enchanted glass. Now, halted, they embraced the interior shape like a clenched fist. James tried to see inside, but couldn't make anything out.
'Professor Jackson, if you would extend the walkway,' Franklyn said quietly, gesturing toward the pool and the dark Vault.
Jackson moved forward and flicked his wand, pronouncing a complicated incantation under his breath. A dull grinding noise sounded, and James startled as something floated over his shoulder. He was surprised to see that it was a block of stone, prized magically from the wall behind him. It floated past Jackson and lowered, touching the pool but not sinking. More stones wafted into place, forming a neat pathway that led toward the Vault. Franklyn stepped forward, his boots knocking on the stones, and raised his wand. Harry followed him, and James and Zane watched raptly, peering curiously at the darkly glimmering shape of the Vault.
Franklyn glanced back, his eyes wide, and James saw that the Chancellor was quite shaken. 'My friends,' he said, swallowing hard. 'Never once has the magic of the Vault been breached. Never once has it been stilled, even by my own hand. Assuming that it opens now…' He paused and shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.
Harry nodded soberly and raised his wand, tip up. 'Stay well back, James, and the rest of you. If you wish to return to the outside, now is your chance. None will blame you, and most will credit you for it. Professor Wood will accompany you if you choose to go.'
Wood nodded and looked around. James shook his head, as did Zane.
'I know I should probably go,' Ralph squeaked. 'But if I do, I'll kick myself for the rest of my life. So open it already.'
Professor Jackson fingered his own wand. 'Open it, Chancellor. If the shift means what I fear, being outside the Archive will make no difference for any of us.'
Franklyn nodded. He turned back to the Vault, his shoulders hunched, and raised his wand once more. Slowly, he lowered it, and as he did, the leaves began to move. Starting at the top, they began to shuttle aside, turning and descending silently, aligning with and overlapping the ones beneath. With solemn grace, the Vault bloomed, spreading and opening, revealing the shape inside, which was dark and complicated with shadows. As the final golden leaves settled into place, Franklyn stepped forward and raised his wand. Its light fell onto a shape that seemed to loom suddenly up out of the darkness, boggling with bulging eyes, its mouth gaping horribly. James gasped in shock and fear, as did Zane and Ralph. Zane's hand snatched out and grabbed a handful of James' blazer, as if for support.
'Hadley!' Franklyn cried out hoarsely, reaching to touch the figure that stood before him.
'I wouldn't do that,' Merlin announced loudly, halting Franklyn and commanding his attention. Franklyn glanced back.
'It's Mr. Henredon! The custodian! He's been… he's…!'
'He looks like a statue,' Harry said carefully, moving next to Franklyn on the stone footpath. 'It's as if he was turned to stone in the act of trying to intervene in… whatever happened.'
'He's been frozen,' Merlin said, approaching slowly. 'From the inside out. Every drop of his blood has been frozen as solid and brittle as glass.'
'Is he… dead?' Franklyn asked, peering at the eerily still figure. Hadley's face seemed locked in a permanent rictus of wide-eyed terror. His right hand was stretched out before him, the fingers petrified into a grasping claw.
'He isn't dead, precisely,' Merlin answered carefully. 'He is… suspended. If any of us were to touch him, however, the warmth of our skin might… shatter him.'
Franklyn recoiled slightly, his face contorting.
Jackson had his wand ready. 'Stand aside, gentlemen,' he instructed.
With impressive delicacy, Jackson levitated the frozen figure of Hadley up out of the unfurled shape of the Vault and settled him into place on the wet stone of the floor beneath the stairs. Hadley's shoes made a sound like clacking crockery when they touched the floor and the puddle froze instantly around them, producing a faint crackling hiss.
'Can we help him?' Harry asked, watching stoically.
'Only time and a very subtle increase in temperature will answer that question,' Merlin sighed. 'If he had
