Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 98

                ‘Or we could look at it from another angle?’ suggests Elle. ‘The room lights up like fireworks whenever we close our eyes. There must be some sort of clue here?’

                I nod. ‘Good idea, everyone close your eyes.’

                ‘Except Graham, you just stand there and look pretty.’ Elle grins.

                Graham shakes his head but smiles at the same time.

                I close my eyes. It looks like the room is on fire. Blue echoes trail from every angle, stopping in places, but look like they’re moving even now. I wonder are they fading.

                I move around, noticing the different lights given off by Elle and Yates. Elle looks bright but there are ripples in her mood. Is that fear? Yates on the other hand is a marble of darks and lights. He’s in a state of flux, neither up nor down but somewhere in between, his mood constantly changing. Graham, like most people still with bodies, is a mystery.

                I study the walls, searching for a hand print like Rome, but there’s nothing. The echoes are so bright, they’re almost loud, I can almost hear Teague moving around the room, rustling papers, stealing secrets.

                ‘Here, what’s this,’ cries Yates from the fireplace.

                ‘You have no idea how weird it is watching you all with your eyes closed moving around like you can see,’ says Graham.

                ‘What have you found?’ I ask Yates, studying the fireplace myself. There are a lot of echoes around it, though I don’t remember seeing anything around it when we were here before.

                ‘Do you think this is this something?’ he asks, pointing at the floor.

                I look down and there’s definite evidence of a scorch mark, just the same as Graham’s basement only invisible to the naked eye.

                ‘This must be where he appeared,’ I reply.

                I kneel down and touch it. It emits a strange warmth that spreads up my arm like a light touch.

                ‘I still think Benjamin might know something,’ I say. ‘He says he visits Central Park every Friday.’

                The warmth turns to a heat. The light doesn’t change but I find I can’t move my hand from the spot or open my eyes.

               ‘I can’t move,’ I say, with panic in my voice.

                Elle and Yates grab my shoulders and try to pull me away but I’m rooted to the spot. The heat is rising until it concentrates itself around my wrist. It feels like someone’s holding me there.