13

(Lily)

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MIST IN THE MAUSOLEUM

We heard the howling too, and I could tell that it was making my grandfather nervous.

As for me, all I could think about was trying to crack the code. I knew the secret was in that silver disk, but I couldn’t tease it out. I tried matching every other letter to the ring of symbols, going A, C, E around the edge and then starting over with B, D, F, and so on. I tried doing the alphabet backward. I was positive, or at least almost positive, that the symbols matched the alphabet. But how, and in what order?

The one thing that puzzled me was that the moon symbols—the two full and two half circles—would pop up in the written pages sometimes.

It took me longer than it should have to figure it out, but I finally cracked the code on Wednesday night when I realized that the moon figures were signs, telling me where to set the code key!

For example, when the black circle appeared in the notebook, I would set the arrow so that it pointed toward the black circle on the code key. The symbol in the outer ring just above that became A, and the alphabet marched around the code key in that order. When a different moon symbol appeared, say the half moon that bulged to the right, I would reset the arrow, and the symbol it pointed at then became the new A.

Even after I figured this out, the work was slow and painstaking.

It was also spine tingling.

I couldn’t wait to report to Jacob the next day. What I had read was so sensational, I had a hard time keeping the top of my head from blowing off!

“What is going on with you?” asked Jacob when we got to the cemetery the next afternoon. “You’ve been twitchy as a mouse at the Cat Convention all day.”

I took a deep breath, then said, “I think it’s real.”

Jacob scowled at me. “What’s real?”

Always October! I think it’s real, Jake! I know your father thought it was real. He figured out how to open the safe, just like we did. He cracked the code and read your grandfather’s journal. I don’t know what’s in there for sure, since I only had your dad’s to work with. What I do know is that your dad started trying to find a way to get to Always October, because he believed that’s where your grandfather went. He talks about someone named Mazrak. It’s kind of spooky. He says things like, ‘Mazrak says blood calls to blood’ and ‘Am I on the right track, or simply losing my mind?’ and …”

I hesitated.

“And what?” demanded Jake.

“The last entry—I skipped ahead, because the translating is really slow work—the last entry says, ‘Mazrak wants me to go to the cave.’”

Jake turned pale.

The next day in school, Friday, I watched Jake grow more anxious with every passing hour. He blew the math test, which was no surprise. I mean, really, how could a boy with a baby monster on his hands concentrate on how many quarters Eugene owed Penelope if she sold him thirty-two percent of her lemonade stand? Even so, it did nothing to improve his mood.

When school was over, we returned to the mausoleum, but Jacob was too nervous and restless to talk. Finally he said, “Sorry, Lily. I gotta go home.”

“I understand. But meet me here tomorrow morning, okay? I won’t be able to rest until you tell me what happened! I might even sleep out here, so I’ll be ready no matter how early you come over.”

“Do you really sleep out here?”

“Sure. It’s very restful.” I let out my best spooky laugh, hoping to get a smile out of him. He just rolled his eyes, uncertain whether I was kidding or not.

“I’ll come over as early as I can,” he promised, then added gloomily, “assuming I live through the night.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

I meant that very sincerely. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t tell him that, though. It was a little too mushy.

I also didn’t tell him that I really did intend to sleep in the mausoleum … or at least stake the place out for a while. I was sure it was connected with what was happening at his house, and I hoped I could gather some useful information. An hour or so after I had supposedly gone to bed for the night, I slipped into my jeans and flannel shirt, crawled through my window, and headed for the mausoleum.

The full moon was enormous, silvering the dew that already coated the ground.

I could hear the howling in the distance.

About halfway to the mausoleum I heard something else: a roaring and shouting from the direction of the main gate. Turning, I saw an enormous creature racing in my direction!

I know every tombstone in that cemetery, so it was easy for me to get a sense of the creature’s height, and let me tell you, he was BIG.

Only he wasn’t the one doing the shouting. That was coming from another enormous creature who was chasing him.

Look, I like weird stuff as much as the next person. More, actually. But I’m not crazy, and I knew the best thing for me at that moment was to get out of the way. But where? Were the creatures I had already spotted the only ones here, or had the whole cemetery been invaded?

I considered turning back and running for the house, but that would take me closer to the creatures. So I ran forward, instinctively heading for the mausoleum where Jacob and I had our clubhouse.

The door was open. The moment I entered, I knew things were as bizarre in there as they were out in the cemetery. Instead of being black as a coal bin at midnight, the place was filled with a thick, gray mist. The mist itself was laced with lines of flickering purple light. The air smelled clean, the way it does after a nearby lightning strike. I flinched the first time one of the purple lines touched me, but it did no more than send a tingle over my skin.

Terrified, but also excited, I groped my way forward.

I didn’t scream until a figure stepped out of the mist, grabbed me by the arm, and hissed, “What are you doing here?”