The Ghost Light Page 11
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The curtain had just opened by the time Maggie had met up with her friends and showed them the card. She knew they needed to find Vivien, and fast. The other girls had checked backstage and all the balconies, so that left the theater’s lower levels.
Walking downstairs from the hustle and bustle of the main floor felt like walking into a ghost town. Although the restrooms were open to the public for the performance, the other rooms weren’t in use for the evening. The play had already started, so they didn’t see another soul as they crept quietly through the unused spaces. The old restaurant and ballroom doors were chained shut and secured with heavy padlocks, so they passed both rooms by and continued their search.
“I still can’t believe you and Juniper played down here,” Rebecca whispered. “Even without Vivien lurking around, it’s just so creepy!”
“Maybe,” Maggie answered. “But it probably wouldn’t feel that way if it were full of people.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca said, “but it isn’t. You were always down here alone, with all this spooky old stuff where anything could be hiding.” She shuddered. “I think I prefer my buildings shiny and new, thank you very much.”
The girls came upon an oak door with a brass inlay of an owl on it. The sign above read OWL BAR. “The theater was built during the Prohibition era, but they still had a bar?” Clio asked. She pushed open the door to the empty Owl Bar and flipped on the lights. The oak-paneled room was tiny, with just a few small cocktail tables and a marble-topped bar.
“They claimed it was just for smoking cigars and drinking sarsaparilla,” Maggie said, “but Kawanna says the room is full of hidden panels and drawers where customers could hide their hooch in case of a raid.”
“See, normally I would think that hidden panels and stuff were cool,” Clio said, “but tonight, not so much.”
Maggie peeked behind the bar and caught a whiff of ancient cigar smoke, but no perfume.
“Not much room to hide,” Rebecca said. “At least, not that we can see.” She turned to Tanya. “Should we get out the net and stuff? We need to be organized and ready when we find Vivien.”
“No way.” Maggie tapped the walls, searching for hidden panels. “If she sees us carrying a net, we won’t get within fifty feet of her. We have to keep it hidden until the last possible second.” One of the panels felt loose when she tapped it. She pushed it harder, and it sprang open, revealing a dusty old wine bottle and a few cloudy glasses. “I just hope we get to her before the Night Queen pushes her over the edge.”
“How does the Night Queen even talk to Vivien anyway? The portal to the Nightmare Realm has never been open here, right?” Tanya looked under one of the tables. No one there. She pressed a button and a drawer popped open. It was empty.
“Good question,” Clio answered. “But that awful clock at the Lees’ wasn’t a portal, either, and we still don’t know what that thing was for. Maybe she used something like that.”
“There’s nothing here,” Maggie said. “Let’s keep moving.”
They checked the empty ladies’ lounge next. There was a loudspeaker in the vanity area so showgoers didn’t have to miss any of the performance. Maggie listened. “But screw your courage to the sticking place and we’ll not fail…”
“That’s Emily’s voice,” Maggie said. “So far so good, but the first act is almost over. We’re running out of time.” She led them out of the lounge and over to the last empty room on the floor: the nursery. She pulled open the door and clicked on the light.
It was every bit as grim as she remembered, with its dark olive carpet and depressing circus mural, but Maggie felt an additional uneasiness as her eyes searched the room. Something was different. She walked over to the dollhouse. All the dolls had been returned, and someone had set it up to look like the evening’s performance, with several dolls in the audience seats and a few more onstage. Maggie looked for the blond doll, the one that Juniper had pretended was Emily. It was missing.
Across the room near the puppet theater, Rebecca stood near a tiny, child-sized door that Maggie hadn’t noticed on her earlier visits. The door had a shiny new padlock on it. “What’s in here?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “I don’t remember seeing it before.” She walked over to take a closer look. There was a fresh smudge of mossy green on the rusty hasp. Maggie locked eyes with Rebecca.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Rebecca asked.
Maggie nodded. “We need to find out what’s behind that door.”
“Tanya, we have to get this open. Do you have your crowbar?” Rebecca called.
“Not tonight. I just brought stuff for capturing, not exploring.” Tanya rummaged through the toy boxes for something she could use as a tool. Maggie grabbed at the lock and tugged, twisting it in the hopes that the old wood would give behind the hasp. A hairline crack formed in the wood, and Maggie gave a grunt of satisfaction.
Just then, there was an unearthly screech from the puppet booth, and puppets exploded into the air. Something flew at Maggie, knocking her to the ground, and she screamed. Maggie could hear the other girls rushing to her aid as she struggled against the sinewy arms that grabbed at her. “Help!” Maggie shrieked. “What’s happening?!”
Rebecca’s firm, authoritative voice cut sharply through the melee. “Horrible! What are you doing?! Stop it!” Her attacker’s grip slackened, and Maggie’s eyes finally focused on the hideous creature in front of her. The size and general shape of a spider monkey, Horrible was far less cute, with his ropy arms, mushroom-tipped fingers, and the black taloned feet that sprouted from his stumpy legs. The torn onesie on the changeling’s rotten-log body was filthier than ever, and his caved-apple face held an expression of anxious resentment.
Maggie looked at him with disgust. “What’s he doing here?! I thought we were rid of that thing forever!” Horrible snapped at Maggie and climbed into Rebecca’s arms. “Oh, come on, Rebecca, don’t tell me you’re going to hold him now! Gross! I hope you’re planning to burn that outfit when you get home tonight.”
“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Rebecca said, looking down at him. Horrible and Rebecca held a special bond ever since she had accidentally become his unwitting babysitter a few months back. Discovering that Horrible was a changeling is what led them to their first encounter with the Night Queen, and Rebecca had ended up saving his life. “But what are you doing here, Horrible? Is it something to do with this?” She reached for the lock again, and Horrible smacked her hand away. She looked more closely at the streak of green moss, the moss that matched the streaks on Horrible’s body. “Wait a minute, did you put the padlock on here?” Horrible nodded and tugged on her hand, pulling her away.
Clio slowly backed up toward the exit. “You guys, Horrible only seems to show up when the Night Queen’s nearby, so maybe we really don’t want to find out what’s behind that door.”
Maggie looked at her watch and stood up. “Act Two is already halfway over; we’d better get back upstairs and check on—” As she turned to leave, the rest of the sentence died in her throat.
A figure loomed in the doorway, blocking their exit. Her tattered gown hung on her bony frame like a scarlet burial shroud.
They had found Vivien Vane at last.
CHAPTER
21
MAGGIE WAS SO frightened she couldn’t make a sound. Her insides were gripped with fear, but also a strange kind of relief. As long as Vivien was down here with them, then Emily was safe. And as long as Emily was safe, then the Night Queen couldn’t open the theater’s portal. Unless … Maggie thought. Unless the Night Queen convinced Vivien to go after us instead of Emily.
Vivien’s face was obscured by her veil, but Maggie could see the two dark circles of her sunken eyes, their gaze seeming to burn Maggie’s skin with long-held fury. Her gloved hands were curled like claws in front of her.
The other girls gathered around Maggie, and Horrible cowered in Rebecca’s arms. “Well, we’ve
been looking for her all night, and we found her.” Tanya slowly put her backpack on the floor. “Now how do we … you know, apture-cay er-hay?” she asked, slipping into Pig Latin in the hopes that Vivien wouldn’t catch on.
“Follow my lead,” Maggie whispered. She took a step forward and cleared her throat, trying to will her hands to stop trembling. “Vivien Vane, it’s an honor to meet you. We’ve been reading all about you, and you’re a legend.”
The face behind the veil shifted, and Vivien’s posture changed. Her hands softened. Maggie heard Tanya quietly unclipping her backpack, but Maggie was careful not to look at her. She made sure Vivien’s eyes stayed locked on her own.
Maggie went on. “It takes a lot of talent to go from chorus girl to featured performer, and you were awesome in that film footage we saw.” The actress stood up straight and put one hand against her heart. From the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Tanya and Clio take a few steps to one side, carrying something between them. It was working! The girls took another cautious step forward.
Suddenly there was a hiss from across the room, and a peal of laughter that sounded like ice-cold bells. Terror shot through Maggie’s heart. That laugh still wove through her nightmares.
The Night Queen was here.
Maggie’s panic turned her plan to dust. She tore her gaze from Vivien and wheeled around, expecting to see the blue woman towering behind her, but there was no one there. Then Maggie saw it: the mirror in the corner. There was something moving behind the glass. Maggie caught a glimpse of golden falcon eyes, the silver curl of a ram’s horn, and the restless movement of arachnid legs.
Horrible hopped out of Rebecca’s arms and cowered on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He crept toward the mirror as if dragged by a chain. Rebecca pulled at him. “Horrible? What are you doing?” He looked back at her with a pleading look and pressed his face into the floor, still inching closer to the Night Queen’s reflection.
Maggie turned back to Vivien, hoping to regain her attention, but the dark pits of her eyes watched only the mirror now. Maggie willed Clio and Tanya to make their move, but the girls were just as frozen as she was, standing like statues with the net stretched limply between them. The queen’s voice rang through the room, and Horrible curled up like a ball, covering his head at the sound of it. “Don’t let this false flattery try to take from you what’s yours. They care nothing for you! Destroy them and find the revenge you seek.”
Her words seemed to shock Maggie back to herself. “Vivien!” Maggie cried. “Don’t listen to her. I’ve seen your work, and you’re an incredible performer. I hope someday I can grow up and be as talented as you!” Maggie was surprised to find that the words were true. Whatever ghoulish thing Vivien was now, she would have been a true star if things had turned out differently.
Vivien looked back at her with questioning eyes. Almost hopeful. She wanted to believe Maggie. She wanted to listen. “Please, Vivien. Talent is your legacy, not revenge.”
Maybe they wouldn’t need the net after all. Maybe she could get Vivien to trust her. Maggie kept her gaze on Vivien’s face, hoping the other girls would understand and back off. In her peripheral vision, she saw Tanya and Clio look at each other and bring their arms down. The net sagged. They had understood! “Trust me,” Maggie said.
The queen’s icy voice cut in, dripping with scorn. “Trust them?” Her eyes blazed in the mirror. “They seek to stop you, to imprison you.” Her voice lowered, sounding almost hypnotic. “They would trap you in obscurity forever … just as Norma did.” Vivien’s body went rigid, and she shook her head in confusion. “Behold,” the queen commanded. “See for yourself what they would do.”
“No!” Maggie said. “That’s not true!” She cast a frantic eye at Clio and Tanya, praying they had put away the net, but the two girls still stood there like two deer caught in headlights, the drooping net held loosely in their hands. Vivien followed Maggie’s gaze and turned on the two girls, letting out a shriek of rage. She tore the net from their hands. “Wait, no!” Maggie cried. “Please! It’s not what you think!” But Vivien was blind to Maggie’s pleas now.
The queen pushed her advantage. “No one cares for you the way I do, Vivien,” she purred. “While others would see you suffer and vanish from the earth, it is I who will give you what you want.” Her voice grew louder. “At last you will have the revenge and the fame you were denied all these years!” The frigid voice sliced through the nursery like a scythe. “Now, awake, sleeping ones! Arise and crush them all!” Horrible writhed in agony on the floor, shrieking and clawing at his ears.
The little door in the wall began to rattle, the handle turning violently. The padlock rattled. The door shook harder, the wood beginning to crack. Rebecca threw herself against the door, trying to keep it shut. “Help me!” she cried. Clio ran to her, but Vivien grabbed Tanya by the arm, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. Tanya screamed.
“No! She’s a liar!” Maggie shouted. Tears streamed down Tanya’s face as Vivien raised her free hand to strike. “Stop! The queen is the reason you suffered! She kept you alive so she could use you! She could have saved you but she didn’t!” Maggie’s words seemed to reach her, and Vivien loosened her grip. Tanya broke free and fell to the ground. She scurried backward, and Maggie stepped protectively in front of her.
“Please don’t do this,” Maggie said. “This is not who you really are.”
Vivien dropped her hands to her sides, clenching and unclenching her fists. Then she turned on her heels and fled the nursery, locking the door behind her.
CHAPTER
22
THE QUEEN’S TRIUMPHANT laughter curdled the room. “Did you worthless mortals really believe she would listen to you? No twisted monster I bring to life can ever defy me; I am their creator!” Her golden eyes glittered, and her voice dropped to a vicious hiss that could barely be heard over the rattling of the door. “Isn’t that right … changeling?”
Horrible had been creeping across the carpet, searching for a hiding place, but at the sound of his name, he froze. “Come to me, changeling. Come to your maker.” Horrible crawled to the mirror.
“No!” Rebecca cried. “Don’t go to her!” She pulled at him, but he shook her off. He hunched before the mirror, trembling violently.
“Now, show them what you are, changeling. Remove the lock. Let in those I have freshly awakened. Let them take what is theirs.” Whimpering and dragging his taloned feet, Horrible went to the little door. He reached into his mouth and pulled out a silver key. The rattling stopped.
“Horrible, stop! What are you doing?” Rebecca grabbed at him, but he slithered out of her grasp. Maggie heard the key click in the padlock, and it fell to the floor with a thud.
The door opened, and Maggie stood in horror as one after another, three skeletons poured into the room. “Lusus naturae!” Rebecca cried. “They’re from the Nightmare Realm! She must have opened the portal!”
“You weak fools! To think I am only served by creatures from the Nightmare Realm? I have the power to awaken all that rest uneasy in the earth and bend them to my will forever. There is no escape!” The skeletons carried hammers and crowbars in their bony hands. It was the builders—the ones who had disappeared during the theater’s construction. They advanced on the girls, brandishing their weapons. Horrible scuttled to the far corner of the room, cowering by the dollhouse.
“We can’t fight them!” Tanya cried. “We have to get out of here!” The girls ran to the exit, pushing in vain at the door, but it was no use. They were trapped.
“Now, awakened ones. Finish them!” the Night Queen cried. A skeleton raised its hammer above Rebecca’s head.
Horrible let out a shriek. He picked up the dollhouse and hurled it at the mirror, shattering it. Shards of silvery glass spilled out, littering the floor like fallen stars. The whole building shook on its foundations, and the skeletons fell to the floor, the bones scattering across the carpet and turning to dust.
“What ju
st happened?” Clio cried.
“No time to find out!” Maggie shouted. “We have to save Emily!” She grabbed a crowbar from the floor and banged it against the doorknob. Nothing happened. She let out a scream of frustration.
Tanya ran over and took the crowbar out of her hands. “Not like that. Like this.” She wedged the end between the handle and the jamb and rocked it back and forth until the door snapped open. She grinned. “It’s amazing what you can do with the right tool!”
“I love you, T, but stop talking,” Maggie said. “Let’s go!” The girls followed Maggie upstairs and through the backstage door. A figure in red stood in the wings, watching.
“Tackle her!” Clio whispered.
Maggie pulled her back “No!” She held up one hand. “Wait.” She walked slowly over to the woman in red.
“Maggie,” the woman said. It was Emily. “How’s the play going so far? Are you having fun?” She took one look at Maggie’s pale, tearstained face and stopped. She lifted her veil and bent down, putting her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Maggie looked across the stage, past where Malcolm, the dead king’s son, rallied his troops to overthrow the wicked Macbeth. “Our power is ready; our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth is ripe for shaking, and the powers above put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may. The night is long that never finds the day.” On the catwalk above she saw another woman in red staring intently at the action below.
“I need to talk to you,” Maggie whispered. She saw Vivien’s head turn, and she felt the ghoul’s eyes on her as she took hold of Emily’s hand.
“Is there any way it can wait? I’m about to do my final scene, and then I can give you all the time you need.”
Maggie shook her head, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “It can’t wait.” She took Emily’s hand and looked pleadingly up at her. “Please don’t do your final scene.”