“Where the Nightcrawlers were?” Zayne asked, and I shuddered.
“Would explain a lot of things, like how that zombie got into the boiler room that one time,” Roth said. “We never figured out how it got into the school without being seen.”
“God, don’t remind me,” Layla groaned. “I’m still not emotionally or mentally over that and the popping eyeballs.”
My lip curled. “There’s got to be a hundred different doors and tunnels branching off down here. How in the world do we find the one connected to the school?”
“We don’t need to.” Zayne lifted his torch toward the ceiling. “At least not right now. We don’t need these tunnels to get into the school. When the workers aren’t here Saturday, we can walk right through the front doors. Or one of the doors. Windows. Whatever.”
“Oh, yeah. Good point. Duh,” I said.
Zayne grinned at me and returned to scanning the ceiling for the damn marks.
“Finding which one of these connects and destroying it would be beneficial. Might not stop spirits or ghosts from getting in or out,” Roth mused. “But will stop demons and the Harbinger. I’ll have some of my people check it out, find the entrance and blow it up.”
“You have people?” My brows raised. “Fancy.”
“I’m the Crown Prince,” he replied. “I have legions of demons who serve me.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “Super fancy then.”
We continued on several more football field lengths of twisty, winding tunnel before I stopped, exasperated, cold and starting to feel a little claustrophobic. “We’re not going to find anything,” I said, and they stopped, turning toward me. “I don’t understand why there’s no writing. I don’t know if my eyes were playing tricks me on me or what, but it’s clear we could walk forever and die down here before we find the Harbinger.”
Up ahead, Roth glanced at Layla. “I hate to say it, but you’re probably right.”
“But we can keep going,” Layla insisted. “Who knows what we’ll find down here.”
“Probably a group of cave-dwelling giant bats,” I said, placing my hand against a wall. “And—”
Something happened.
A vibrating hum radiated under my palm. My head jerked toward the wall. A dim golden glow flickered and then rolled over the walls and ceiling in a quick flash before vanishing. The marks were now there, but if I’d blinked, I would’ve missed the quick golden light. “What the what?”
“Whoa.” Zayne stepped in with his torch. “Did it do this last time?”
“No. I mean, not that I noticed, but it was completely dark when I touched the wall and I was...” I looked at Zayne. “I was kind of panicking.”
“Understandable,” he murmured, stepping closer to the wall. “You guys seeing this?”
“Yes,” answered Layla. “It looks like...a really old language or something. This is what you saw?”
“Exactly.”
“We’ve all touched these walls, right?” Layla was nose to wall. “And it didn’t do this?”
Everyone had touched them except for me, which begged the question of why it responded to me. Slowly, I removed my hand as Roth walked toward us. The marks didn’t fade, at least not yet.
“It’s the same as the marks on those spikes,” Zayne said, lifting the torch.
I was going to have to take his word for it. I stared at the scrawling marks etched into the stone. They looked like words spaced into sentences.
Roth had become very still behind us. “You have spikes with these words on them?”
I looked at him. The glow from the torch Layla held cast flickering light over his face. “You know this language? That these etchings are actually words?”
“Yeah, and I’ll ask again—you have spikes with words like this written on them?”
“I don’t know if it’s the exact same words, since we can’t read it,” I replied. “But we found them impaling a Warden to a church. They also glow.”
“Well, of course they do.” Roth swore, and I tensed. “I know what this is, and I know why your spikes glow.”
“What?” I asked.
“That’s angelic writing,” Roth answered, staring at me. “And that means you have angel blades in your possession.”
31
Angelic language.
I’d called it!
My smugness over having been right was short-lived when I realized the confirmation also meant that the Harbinger was in possession of angelic weapons.
“Wait a second.” Layla crossed her arms. “The Harbinger just left those spikes behind?”
“Appears that way,” Zayne answered as he scanned the writing on the wall.
“That doesn’t make sense.” Roth turned to us. “Angel blades are not just left lying around. Those suckers can kill just about anything. Actually, not just about. Totally can kill anything, including another angel. If this Trueborn left those blades behind, he’s either extremely careless or had a reason.”
“He doesn’t seem like the careless type,” I murmured, staring at the faint markings.
“If those blades weren’t found, how in the world did a Trueborn take them from an angel?” Layla asked. “I know a Trueborn is badass and angels aren’t exactly invincible, but to possibly disarm or even kill an angel?”
“Not just any angel, Shortie.” Roth inclined his head. “Only archangels carry angel blades and I doubt one would hand them over to their half-angelic spawns.”
“Nobody really knows what Trueborns are or aren’t capable of,” Zayne said. “It’s been too many years since they were anything more than myth.”
“I don’t even know if I share the same abilities with this one, other than him being able to see spirits and ghosts. That’s an angel thing, but this isn’t something we can google or read about in a book.” I thought about what Thierry had shared with me this morning. “I think our history has been purposely forgotten. Erased.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Roth looked at Zayne.
He met Roth’s stare, expression hard. I had no idea what that was about, nor was it important at the moment. “Can you read it?” I asked.
“Not exactly an expert at angelic language. One would think that you’d be more apt in that area. It’s similar to Aramaic.”
At least Gideon had been on the right track.
“I recognize some words.” Walking a few feet down, Roth stopped. “I think this is some kind of spell. Not the witchy kind—more of an angelic ward.”
“What kind of ward?” Zayne held the torch close to the wall.
“A trap,” he said, stepping back. “I think it’s a ward to trap souls, preventing them from entering these tunnels. Now I’m wondering if a similar ward is written inside the school.”
Tiny hairs rose all over my body. “If so, it would stop the souls from leaving the school.”
“God,” Layla murmured. “Nothing good can come from this.”
“Not at all,” Roth agreed.
Layla unfolded her arms. “Stacey has two weeks or so of summer school left.”
“She went back?” I asked, surprised.
“She has to, or she won’t get her diploma,” Layla explained. “And I told her she could just get her GED, but she doesn’t want to do that. She’s in class right now. Did Sam say if Stacey was in direct danger? That the ghosts were targeting her or anything like that?”
I shook my head. “No. Just that they pushed a kid down the stairs and that they’re getting more angry. The longer they’re trapped, the worse they’ll become.”
“There are spells that can get them out of the school.” Layla looked at Zayne. “We’ve done them before with wraiths. Basically an exorcism.”
He nodded. “There are. When we go in the school Saturday night, we can force them out.”
I raised a hand. “I have a slight problem with that. Do you know what happens when you exorcise a spirit? You don’t just force them out of a residence or building. You send them into oblivion. They don’t get to move on. With a wraith, that’s understandable. They’re a lost cause. But there might be spirits and ghosts in there that are good, and they don’t deserve that.”
“Do we take that risk? Aren’t there also Shadow People in there?” Layla argued.
“Yeah, and exorcism would send them back to Hell, but you can’t just pick and choose who gets exorcised. It will catch every spirit or ghost in there.” I twisted toward Zayne. “We can’t just do an exorcism. We have to come up with a different plan.”
Zayne was quiet for a moment. “You’re both right. It wouldn’t be fair to those trapped, but it’s also a risk.”
I glared at him. “That statement didn’t help.”
“I didn’t think that it would, but I’m not sure what you want me to say. We might not have a choice.”
Anger flashed through me as I looked away from Zayne. I refused to believe that was our only choice. It was wrong.
“While I would love to stand here and listen to you all argue, I think all three of you are forgetting a very important piece,” Roth said. “These tunnels are warded, and I’m betting the entire school is also warded. Exorcism won’t work.”
He was right.
Layla swore under her breath, turning away. “Then what do we do? Because I’m guessing that also means Trinity can’t go in there and move them on.”
“That leaves us with only one option,” Zayne said. “We have to take down the wards.”
At that point, we collectively decided we’d seen enough. I hitched a ride with Zayne to get out, welcoming the open air, even if it smelled faintly of exhaust.