Hunting Arcadia - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lucas knew there was some meaning in it, had to see it again. Hopefully it was still there. Most of the stone debris had already been cleared away. He stepped once more into the jagged opening of the mausoleum, everything still as it had been except for the coffin. They'd lifted the lid back into place. But the small stone was still resting there against the far wall.

He'd seen it the night Jacob and Axel had taken him there. Hadn't made much sense before, but he'd noticed a mark on the face of it. Lucas drew a small notepad and pen from his jeans pocket, then a tiny flashlight from another, clinking against the key ring attached to it. He twisted the top until a weak beam emitted from it.

A circle and a man, stretching out his arms and legs. Reminded of that Da Vinci drawing, what was it called...Vitruvian Man. A crude etching, more a general shape of a human than anything. But this one had lines. A star behind him, carved around his body. Crouching down, he drew the design on a page of his notepad.

As he left, he circled around to the front where the door stood, once again examining the plaque on the right side of the door. Davin Grahn, dead for a hundred forty years. He opened up his notebook, copied the dates down, then glanced around in all directions. Didn't want to be seen snooping around.

He noticed a grove of trees to his right, remembered something Eli had said. He'd noticed the hatch a few times before, but hadn't thought anything of it. Now that he was so close, he became curious, stood there a few seconds, hesitating. Seemed almost like it would trespassing on something sacred. Perhaps just a quick peak, in and out. He walked briskly over to the grove of trees where the small statue was and lifted the metal hatch.

His eyes adjusted quickly to the pitch black. A dank, cement stairwell leading to a short, cramped tunnel. Another metal door stood at the far end, blotches of rust spattered on its surface. Slowly, quietly, he opened it as though somebody were sleeping on the other side. Traces of what had happened here that he didn't want to disturb. A draft of something rotten came drifting through the opening.

The first thing he saw was a couch at the far wall. Next to that, a few blankets that looked crusted over with dirt...or maybe blood. He couldn't tell. In the center was a large, faded stain, knew instantly what that was from. Glancing to his left, he noticed a plastic pail in the corner with dried, shriveled sponges laying next to it. Their bath. It was so...dismal. Like the cell of a dungeon.

The sadness of the room's emptiness spread like a cold breeze, tightening in his throat at the thought of them living here. This is what they were going to do. Live here together in this dark, miserable little hole. And it would have been enough for them. Two child companions, endlessly in love, in hell.

He climbed back out and locked up the hatch, stared at the statue for a moment, at the small sword clenched in the young angel's stone fist. For a moment it seemed to come alive. A vague remembrance, a girl not much younger than the angel, pushed it from his mind and turned towards the van.

He'd parked near Siri's old apartment, perhaps out of habit, or maybe to imagine that things were the same. It had only been a few days, but there was something already so haunting about it. A silent pain that weighed heavily as he stared through the lightless window. Nobody home.

The van door opened with an obnoxious, metallic screech and he sank down into the patched leather seat with a cheap hiss of escaping air. He'd try the city records. They might have information. He had to find what that symbol meant. He had his suspicions of course, the stones had to have gone somewhere. Castles didn't just disappear. But he needed to know where.

♦

Axel pinched the end of the last q-tip, picking the small ball of cotton from the shaft. With his fingernails, he scraped off stubborn remains, glanced behind him again. Siri had offered to demonstrate when she woke up, but he preferred it like this. He liked figuring things out on his own.

Carefully, he pressed the end of one of the swabs into one of the coin slots, wiggled it around a bit until it was as far as it would go. He glanced behind him again, slid the other q-tip in, pausing for a moment to mentally go over Siri's instructions.

He pushed in on the lever a few centimeters, carefully tilting the swabs upwards, pushing them further inward, then pushed the lever in a little more until he heard a click. He glanced behind him again, pushed the lever in the rest of the way and pulled it back out.

Instantly, the sound of running water filled the inside of the machine. The swabs were barely visible in the slots, and for a moment he though they may be stuck, but managed to pick them out. Didn't want to leave any signs. He'd find something better next time, something longer. Now he had a half hour to burn. He looked around the laundry room, at the smooth cement walls with thin, hairline cracks running through them.

He didn't want to go home, not yet, made his way up the stairs and into the entryway, paced for a while. He liked the apartment, sure. He liked living with Jacob, didn't mind the others, but at times he would miss the loneliness. Sometimes he needed to feel alone, lost in his own rambling thoughts. Something darkly beautiful about occasional solitude.

Axel pushed through the front doors, wandered down the sidewalk a ways and dug out a cigarette. Two left after this one. Might as well go buy more. He cupped his hand around the end of the cigarette, clicked the lighter a few times, sucked in with his cheeks and puffed out two little plumes as though it were a pipe.

A plastic flapping sound echoed across the street. He glanced over at the tarp fluttering around the car it had been protecting for god knows how long. Waving at him, or maybe shooing him away, protecting the rusted pile of shit it was trying to keep dry. He tried to figure how long it had been there. A year at least. That's how long Jacob had been living there, right? Maybe a little over a year.

Cigarettes. More cigarettes. The nearest convenient store was about 7 blocks away, but he knew the guy at the comic store might have some. Last time he'd asked, they guy pulled out a whole carton of them from a cupboard. Sold him a box for cheap. Axel wandered past the car, turned down the alleyway towards the comic store. Didn't feel like walking seven blocks today.

♦

Eli found himself laying face down, his face pressed against hard, smooth tile. Something was pushing down hard on his spine, a cramped pain searing through his chest and stomach. Laughter. Somebody was stepping on him. He tried to struggle, wriggle out from under his shoe, felt somebody kick him in the side and tried instinctive to curl up in a ball. Couldn't.

"Common piggy. Just squeal. Once. That's it."

His whole body was trembling. The shoe lifted up and he lay there for a moment before a hand grabbed his hair, yanked him up to his knees. A toilet bowl sat a few inches in front of him. Streaks of brown stains formed a jagged ring around the edge, the stench of old urine making him gag.

Eli tried to curl his legs up as he felt it coming, unstoppable, a torrent of warmth spreading down his front, running down his thighs, around the back of his legs, forming dark blotches in his trousers. One of them pointed and the others exploded in laughter, like it was the funniest thing they'd seen.

"That's disgusting, piggy. Time for a bath."

Eli whimpered frantically to himself, pleading to be somewhere else, to disappear, anywhere. His hands clamped around the toilet rim as his head was forced downward, his arms straining against the force. Another shoe slammed against his back and his stomach was crushed against the side, his head plunging into a bowl of rancid, brown water. Didn't have time to take a breath.

Eli's arms flailed awkwardly toward the boy's hand, trying to pull it away as his head bent further down until his nose was mashed with dull pain against the bottom, held there for an eternity. He clenched his teeth as his lungs struggled for air, trying painfully to draw something in, heaving against his chest.

A few more seconds and he was pulled back up, water streaming from his hair, drenching his shirt. He gasped deeply for air, sucking it into his lungs, felt the water stream down is face and into his mouth, closed his lips, but too late. A sickly taste spread down his throat, up his nose, felt his stomach convulse and struggled not to vomit.

"Squeal, piggy."

His felt his breathing grow sporadic. Little, panicked heaves as tears began to run down his cheeks. A quick, forced sucking of breath and he scrunched his face, made a loud, piercing squeal, echoing against the bathroom walls. Eli gasped a few more times, squealed again, didn't even sound like a squeal. Not any sort of sound an animal should make. Eli took another breath, closed his eyes, squealed. This time as hard as he could, tearing against the throat until it broke into a spasm of hoarse coughing.

A rupture of laughter rang off the walls, swarming around him in a torrent. A howling of wolves that had taken down their prey. It thundered down on him, the roaring of utmost delight at his humiliation, a small body huddled in defeat. The bathroom door let out a grinding moan as it opened, and the wolves skittered away, baying and barking down the hallway, growing faint, until only the sound of his sobbing was left.

On all fours, a darkish pool grew below his head as he cried, . Strings of putrid water dripped down clotted strands of blond hair that clung to his face, the smell of his own urine drifting from his pants. Thick drops of dark crimson dribbled from his nose and past his lips, splashing at the edge of the puddle.

**********

The puddle blurred, grew larger, closer to his face, became...soft. Eli's eyes cracked open to a mess of green, focused in on the blanket surrounding him, blinked a few times. Oskar was purring contently beside him, their curled bodies nestled against each other. Eli twisted around to face him, carefully brushing tendrils of blond hair from his face. My Oskar.

Eli knew it had been the same ones who whipped him, the same ones from the swimming pool. He felt no remorse for it, never would. It had looked like a massacre afterwards, when he'd carried Oskar away, waited to fully revive him so he wouldn't have to see.

He explained it to him, or course, what he'd done. That he'd killed all of them, torn them apart, that he could never go back there. He'd been so afraid Oskar would be angry, horrified, but he wasn't. He just looked relieved, peaceful, as though he had woken from a nightmare.

Eli kissed him softly on his shoulder, and for a moment the purring stopped as he stirred sleepily, burrowing his head into the pile of pillows and mumbled something incoherent. When the purring gradually came back, Eli slipped quietly out of the blankets.

Siri was still sleeping on the mattress next to them. Her body was curled up, blankets pulled up all around her. She looked so...cozy. Eli sat and stared for a while, then grabbed a blanket next to his mattress and wrapped it around himself. He had attempted this few time in the past. Tried to remember. Always ended wrong.

Eli stared at Siri a few seconds longer, tried to remember the sensation. Getting warm by his stone hearth, curled up on the wooden planks next to his mother. Tried to remember being cold. He closed his eyes and pictured something simple. The brown rug. Beside that, a small pile of cut branches, an iron poker hanging from a hook in the stone.

"Elias"

He looked across the cabin at his mother. Her warm smile, always made him smile back. She walked towards him, two wooden mugs in either hand, sat cross legged next to him on the rug, held one out to him.

"It's not hot, you can drink it."

Eli reached out, cupping the sides, held it in his lap... and there it was. Eli smiled to himself...cold. He felt the heat radiating inside hands, steadily growing, warming him, melting through his frozen fingers. He brought the mug to his lips, tasting a sweet, soupy thickness, stuck to his upper lip. He reached up and wiped his mouth with a tattered sleeve.

"Maybe tomorrow you can-"

Eli shook his head before she could finish. He already knew what they would tell him, that he always managed to mess things up. Didn't pull the udders right, took too long, got in everybody's way. His mother reached over, put her hand on his arm.

"Elias, you just have to jump in there and do it, stand up for yourself. Don't let them push you around so much."

Eli looked up at his mother, but she was flat on the ground now. Her body contorted, covered in blood, her head bent grotesquely around, staring back at him with dead, vacant eyes, her hand still grasping his forearm.

Eli quickly opened his eyes, snapping out of his memory. He shuttered a little, took a deep breath, puffed his cheeks out and exhaled. Still in the bedroom. Siri still snoring softly in front of him. He watched her a while longer, than reached for one of the plastic bags, the one with the larger box.

He wanted to surprise Oskar, have everything set up on the floor when he woke up. The cardboard maps, little figurines of wizards and warriors and giant spiders. Then they could make up a story, create their own world, be anybody they wanted. This would be even better than Lego castles.

♦

Lucas sat upright, his knee bobbing with impatience, drumming his fingers on the seat of a wooden bench. The lobby smelled of musty timber and years of dust, looming tiredly around him like an old man falling asleep. His attention was turned to a steady rhythmic creaking from a stairwell across the room. A short, pudgy man slowly rose into view, spotting Lucas instantly.

"Are you Professor Folstad?"

Lucas had decided this title would carry the most credibility for access to the archives. Lucas rose from the wooden bench, approaching large man with his best smile. He'd sounded irritated. An hour and a half before they closed.

"You're the archivist?"

"Liam, yes. I'm a temp. The archivist retired a couple weeks ago. What did you need?"

Lucas unfolded the piece of paper, handed the drawing to the man."

"You know any stone manufactures with this symbol?"

He took the paper, studied it for a long time, then stared down at the floor as though he had dropped his answer. Searched for it, started to say something, hesitated. Shook his head assuredly.

"Not that I can recall. Do you know how recent was it? Who contracted them?"

Lucas shrugged. "A few churches, maybe, within the past century. Maybe longer."

"In Karlstad?"

"Perhaps. I'm not sure."

"You'll need more information than that. Thing is, we close in less than two hours, and this sort of thing would probably take me days to find, if we even have that information.

"I understand completely, but I've searched through city archives before in my career, so if you could just point me in the right direction, I won't take much of your time at all."

"We close in-

"In less than two hours, yes. I understand. I won't bother you after today."

"You're giving yourself until closing to look through archives? You might as well just not even-

"I'm quite experienced, I assure you."

Now the heavy set man looked moderately annoyed, raising an eyebrow at Lucas, then dawning a poorly feigned smile. "Well of course you are. Come along, then, I have to be down there with you."

♦

Axel said it casually, didn't want to seem desperate, like he expected him to have any. The man nodded, set down a stack of comic books and reached for a carton cigarettes from a cupboard beside him. He pulled a box out and tossed on the glass countertop.

"Ten. Same as last time."

Axel pulled a bill out of his wallet, set it down next to the box. The man formed a strange expression, something he couldn't indentify. Hopefully not irritation. Next time maybe he'd just walk to the convenient store. Seven blocks wasn't so far. The man cleared his throat.

"How's your friend doing? That boy. The one that-"

"Fine", Axel interrupted. "He's doing fine."

The man frowned at him, like he was a specimen, a new kind of insect. Axel shifted uncomfortably, turned to leave as the man set the carton back in his cupboard.

"If I said I knew what your friend was, would that make sense to you?"

Axel stopped between two narrow sets of shelves, stared straight forward at the door, three meters in front of him. They hadn't been careful enough, been to obvious. He should have thought of this, making Eli look more normal. He should have been more careful. Axel turned around to face him, tried to look confused, had to work his way out of this.

"What do you mean?"

"Any normal kid would've been trembling that lightly dressed. A thin shirt and summer pants? It was cold enough to snow and the boy was walking around like he couldn't feel a thing."

"It...he has a condition. It's-"

"One that requires him to be invited into a building? You're not a subtle as you think."

Axel's expression changed, glaring at the man behind the counter, slid his left hand smoothly into his pants pocket, felt the wood handle of his pocket knife. The man glanced at his hand, didn't seem to care.

"Are you his caretaker?", he asked.

"What do you want?"

"An answer for an answer. Let's be civilized."

"No, I'm not his caretaker. What do you want with him?"

"To talk to him, just once more. I have something he might recognize."

"What is it?"

"An old trinket, perfectly harmless. If you're not his caretaker than who is?"

Axel started to answer, hesitated. He'd already been careless with Eli's identity, he didn't want to start telling him more. He'd have to tell Lucas about this, he'd know what to do. He'd be probably be pissed, but he'd have a plan.

"I'm not telling you that."

The man nodded. "Probably wise of you not to. But he does have one, right? A caretaker?"

Axel said nothing, studied the man's expressions, his movements. He seem so...frail, almost felt a sort of pity for him. A frail old man who had spotted a vampire. Within seconds, the man seemed to know he was being scrutinized, held his hand up to Axel.

"I'm being rather forceful, my apologies. But I'm not trying to cause any complications here, I'm not a threat to you, I've just...if you knew-"

"You best keep your fucking mouth shut about this. If you mention it-

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"He'll kill you if you do, tear you apart. They'll both hunt you down."

"I believe you."

"Then I'll talk to his caretaker. I'll have to tell him about you, and I don't know what they're going to do. They could hunt you down either way, for all I know. You're a liability now."

The man's expression didn't change, didn't seem at all bothered by this.

"He not...being treated badly, is he?"

"His caretaker?"

"No, the boy, the vampire boy. Is he in good hands? Is he happy?"

"Yes."

The man seemed doubtful, looked back at him with a noticeable sadness. "I hope so."

♦

Oskar yawned soundlessly, his first breath after waking, always felt a bit painful, like having a chest cold. He heard a soft rustling, large pages being turned, Eli mumbling to himself. Oskar started to stretch, but instead remained still, listening. Sounded like Eli was reading something, instructions about numbers, rolling dice, filling out a sheet of some kind.

More pages rustled, the book was set down. Now he was picking up loose pieces of paper, not mumbling anymore. Oskar suddenly imagined Eli doing homework, hunched over a desk, filling out worksheets. He would probably be a genius in school. He wondered for a moment if they would've been friends if they had met under normal circumstances. If he were-

"Oskar? Are you awake?"

Oskar stripped away the covers from around his head, noticed things spread out on the floor beside their bed. They looked like large maps painted of poster board, with little gridlines so there were evenly spaced squares overlaying the terrain. On some of these squares were intricate little plastic figures. Some of them were monsters, large spiders, dragons, goblins. Others were more human looking.

"Good morning." Eli said cheerfully.

"Morning."

Oskar glanced around the room, over at the other mattresses.

"Where's Siri?"

"Went to get food."

Oskar looked a him, a puzzled expression. Eli laughed, shook his head.

"For them, not us, silly."

Oskar rose to his hands and knees, crawled closer the tiny scene spread out in front of him, carefully inspecting the maps. Some areas were dotted with trees and grass, and a river than led to a marsh area. There were piles of rocks, little campfires and stone ruins, even an entryway into some sort of ancient castle.

"Is it a game?"

Eli nodded excitedly, set the sheets of paper on a wide, hardcover book and handed these to him. The loose sheets were blank forms, a character profile, all in English. It was jumbled with little lines and boxes of different shapes. Looked more complicated than any worksheet he'd done in geography. On the left were boxes for things like dexterity, strength, charisma, and on the right were spaces for armor, speed, weapons and spells.

"It's all in the manual, how to fill it out. I can help you if you want."

Oskar looked at the cover of the of the book. It had a picture of a green dragon fighting a sorceress with red robes and warrior with a spear. Oskar opened the cover, started flipping through the pages, Eli watching him with hawk-like anticipation.

"I've made up a little back story for my character. You should make one up too."

"Back story?"

"Yeah. I made my own history for him. Mine grew up on a farm until a dragon flew by and killed his family, so he ran away and discovered he had magic powers, and he found your character, whoever he is. Or she. It could be a girl if you want I guess."

Oskar nodded, flipping forward to the alignments, skimming over them, then back to the front of the book. Eli noticed him scowling and craned his body over to see what he was reading. Oskar pointed to one of the paragraphs.

"What does this mean?"

"Oh, that's three of these."

Eli looked around and picked up three regular dice and handed them to him.

"It's the number of sides it has. So you have to roll them six times and those are your numbers for Strength and stuff."

"Do they have to be in order? Top to bottom?"

"I don't think so. I didn't. I just got all my numbers first and then assigned them."

Oskar nodded again, flipped to the classes, started reading them all.

"You're a magic user?"

"Uh huh. Some of the spells I get later on are the better ones. I can go invisible and throw fireballs and fly"

Oskar skimmed through the spells, then started looking back and forth between the classes and weapons.

"What class do you want to be?", Eli asked.

"A thief. Look, they can sneak around and do double damage from behind."

Eli crawled around and sat by him, helping him as he read through everything. Gradually, he filled out his character sheet, rolling the dice, writing the numbers down in the boxes, re-rolling dice and switching numbers around until the profile was complete.

Afterwards, they spun out a fantasy about how their characters met. They decided that Eli, a wandering wizard, happened across a thief who was being mauled by a pack of werewolves. So the wizard cast a spell. A blizzard of silver arrows that rained down on the werewolves, killing them instantly, and saving the thief's life.

♦

Liam watched in quiet fascination as Lucas rummaged through records. He'd been assistant to the former archivist, Filip. He'd seen him work, obsess over things, and that had been fascinating as well. This guy, Professor Folstad, was making light work of anything Filip was ever capable of doing. To a normal eye, it probably just looked as though he were rifling through boxes, but he was acutely aware of what was involved.

The room was filled with pillar-like islands of steel shelves, all arranged in rows, each island holding nearly fifty boxes. He had no idea exactly how many boxes were there. Somewhere in the thousands. And each box was crammed with files that were so tedious to navigate through, it took a veritable genius to locate any particular document.

Lucas was referencing between files as though he had a memory of an elephant. Keeping track of hundreds of names and dates at once, mentally connecting related files, calculating years and creating timelines in his head. David glanced down at his watch. Past closing time. No matter, he could watch this guy work all night.

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in an archiving position?"

Lucas shook his head amid flipping through a box of files. "Afraid not."

"You'd really make a name for yourself."

Lucas glanced up at him. "How we doing on time?"

"Don't worry about it."

Lucas frowned a little, he knew that well over two hours had gone by already. "You sure?"

David gestured for him to continue. "I'd hate to interrupt."

Lucas continued searching through the box. He'd already found three of the four churches, all having used stone from the same company at some point during a major renovation. Grahn Stoneworks. Same last name as on the mausoleum. But still no symbol. He stopped at another clump of papers, another renovation. Started sorting through each individual paper in the stack.

The forms were the same as the others. Material orders, letters, records of donations. Useless. Then he noticed a slight thickness between two of the pages, spread them apart and peered down, plunged his hand in the tightly packed box and fished out a small folded receipt. For a few seconds, he just held it between his fingers, tried to quell his hopes.

He'd bought lottery tickets before, just for fun. He knew the chances of winning big were horrendous, not that he needed it. A few times he'd managed to win enough for a tank of gas. Mostly it was for the feeling right before scratching the latex coating off. That feeling that he might just beat the odds. That's how it felt now. About ready to scratch the gray coating off.

It was a receipt of sale from Grahn Stoneworks, and at the bottom was the company icon. But it wasn't the same as the stone. This was just a circle with two thin lines going through it, a cross, with two letters in opposite quarters. G.S. Lucas frowned, stared back at the receipt in confusion.

Liam walked over to where he stood, peering at what Lucas had found.

"Grahn Stoneworks, huh? Heard stories about them, from Filip. He'd go on about all sorts of crazy stuff. But I remember that one."

"What kind of stories?"

"Well, I guess some guy by that name tried to make his own business. Bought an old castle somewhere in Sweden that was sinking in a marsh. The owner sold it to him dirt cheap. Rumor was that land was cursed, though. Everybody in that family died. His kid first, then him and his wife. Managed to dig most of those stones up, first. Made a good living of it, too. Able to afford his own-

"They go together", interrupted Lucas.

He lay the drawing of the man out on the table, and using the fragments of the star behind him as guides, drew a thin cross in the circle. One line vertical, one line horizontal. Lucas sprung up, began putting files back in boxes, carrying boxes back to their shelves.

Liam stared at the drawing for a moment before he started helping him. He knew he'd seen that symbol before, looked familiar now with the cross. He couldn't remember where, but it had seemed strange to him. Seemed out of place. An occult symbol, perhaps. Looked like a man being sacrificed.

♦

Lucas' van still wasn't back when Axel arrived back at the apartment building. He was so preoccupied by the incident at the comic store, that he'd nearly forgotten to put his clothes in the drier. Then he'd used tokens instead of the swabs as planned. Now he sat hunched in the entry way, scooping up powder detergent off the floor. Dropped the box when he'd noticed somebody behind him.

It had been an older lady from the fourth floor. She'd offered to help him, but he shooed her away. Didn't need a old lady kneeling down beside him scooping up his detergent. She'd glared back at him, grunted and walked passed. Jacob had mentioned her before. The one who would throw a fit if you forgot to empty the lint tray in the driers.

Axel scooped up the last of it and brushed his hands into the box. Only a few bits of dirt mixed in. He climbed his way up the stairs, winding up the switchback stairwell, lit every couple flights by a dim fluorescent lamp. Isengard. He was climbing the tower of Isengard. Any moment now, Saruman would meet him around the corner and capture him.

He tried to keep his mind off the comic store, pictured Saruman's wizard robes. Shimmering, reflecting all hues of the spectrum, Saruman of many colors. Within minutes, he reached the tenth floor and gingerly pressed on the handle. Only partly repaired, jiggled around loosely in the doorway, but at least it stayed in place when he closed it.

Jacob was preparing photos in the kitchen, hanging up the last of the prints. He felt a slight trepidation towards going in there, but Jacob was examining the first few, seemed comfortable, couldn't be that bad. No monsters at least. No more zombie photos.

"How's it going?"

Jacob turned around, nodded.

"Alright. Did it work? The swab trick?"

"Uh huh. I just...There's a minor problem. I have to talk to Lucas when he gets back."

"What is it?"

"Just...a complication. Some guy we might have to deal with."

Jacob started back, waiting for more, but Axel pointed behind him.

"Looks like you got the photos developed."

Jacob shrugged, looked a little agitated.

"Something's messed up with them. I think he may have reused the roll or something, couldn't have happened in development. I can't think of anything I did wrong at least."

"What's wrong with them?"

"It looks like they're all ghosted. There's two images, but it makes no sense. All of them have this photo of a farm, like he was standing in the middle of a field, and the other, fainter images on top of them are just bizarre."

Axel stepped closer to the line of hanging prints, studied the first two. The ghosted images looked wispy, as though the objects were made of fog. Something shaped like a horse in the first photo, with a rope trailing off behind it. In the next one second one, the bits of fog looked splotchy, but in an organized way. Some sort of structural pattern.

"They aren't solid. They're just...cloudy. Even if it was reused, it would be clearer than this, wouldn't it?"

Jacob shrugged, rubbed his fingertips against his forehead.

"I dunno. He just...he asked me to do this, and I might have fucked up his film. He should have gone to a professional place."

"But he was secretive about it, said he didn't want anybody to see them, right? If it was just supposed to be a field, what would be so special about that?"

"Yeah, but...for something like this? You think they're supposed to be like that?"

"Maybe. Just show him when he gets back. I'm sure you did everything right."

♦

"Okay, so we got twenty thousand gold from the dragon, split between us, and a magic ring. You can have that if you want, it's an invisibility ring."

Oskar nodded happily, writing his loot down on his character sheet. He'd never had this much luck before, rolling dice. It was as though the dice somehow knew what numbers he and Eli needed. He set down his pencil, cleared his throat.

"And with the dragon gone, the doorway to the dungeon cracks and opens as the magical barrier fades away. The two adventures step inside, where they find ancient marking on the stone floor. A summoning circle used by sorcerers of old."

Eli picked up the dice, rolled a few times, searching through the book, and picked up the story.

"The great halls clatter with the sounds of bones as a small horde of-

Oskar glanced up at Eli, saw that he had frozen, staring down at the map. Eli suddenly looked up at him, his eyes wide, as though he'd discovered something important.

"It's a circle."

"Yes, a summoning circle, but that's just for effect. A horde of what?"

"No, Oskar. It's a circle. The map is a circle."

Oskar frowned, looked down at the map, didn't understand. Eli jumped up and darted out of the bedroom, came back with the geography textbook and sat down next to him. Oskar watched as he flipped open to the map of Southern Sweden where he'd drawn all the marks.

Eli looked around frantically, ripped a piece of thread from one of the blankets, tied an end of it around the pencil while Oskar studied the marks on the map, then glanced back up. Saw what he was doing.

"A compass?"

Eli nodded, placed the other end of the string at the point near Norrkoping.

"Hold it there with your finger."

Oskar gently pressed the other end of the string down on the map, allowing it to pivot as Eli traced the pencil around in an ark, hitting the three main outer points on the map, then continuing around, through a mostly unpopulated area, up through the western edge, and around to the first point.

"I should have see that," mumbled Oskar.

Eli shrugged, measured the distance between two of the points, then moved his fingers around the edge of the circle, making a small mark at Stockholm, then Karlstad, and two other places away from any cities. Seven points total around the edge.

"Karlstad," said Oskar. "So that's one of them. A place here in Karlstad."

"Maybe."

"The graveyard?"

"Or the cathedral."

"Cause the other places were all in churches. Something in the basement, more bodies. Like the rest of them. I...I guess we should go there, see if you're right, see what's down there."

Oskar got up, rummaged in the trunk and grabbed a bundle of clothes, pulled his brown jacket on and zipped it up. He turned to give Eli the black Star Wars sweatshirt, thought he would be standing there next to him, but he still sat cross-legged on the carpet.

"Aren't you coming?"

Eli shook his head, staring back at him. Looked blank, expressionless.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"You're scared?"

"No. I just don't want to."

Oskar stared back at him, a little caught off guard. "...Okay. I'll go then."

"Not by yourself."

Oskar frowned, staring back at him in awkward stillness for a few seconds, still held the black sweatshirt in his fist, dangling down to the floor. Shifted his feet around in nervous confusion.

"But...you said you weren't coming."

"Oskar...just, wait until Lucas gets back. We'll all go. Together."

Oskar dropped the sweatshirt back in the trunk, let the lid drop with a muted thump, sat on the top and started pulling his boots on.

"I don't care what's down there, I'm not afraid of it. A few skeletons maybe, so what. Nothing's gonna happen."

"Oskar, don't. You just want to do this because of last night, I know how it is. You're trying to be brave. You don't have to prove anything, okay? Especially to me."

Oskar ignored him, pulled a wool cap over his mess of disheveled hair, noticed his hands were quivering. He leaned over to tie the boot laces, managed to get one of them knotted, started fumbling around with the other, but his fingers barely seemed to have strength enough to grip the laces. He felt Eli watching him, tried again. The knot turned out messy, loose.

For a while he sat hunched over on the trunk, his arms resting on his knees, staring at the ridiculous way his boots were tied. Looked at his hands, like a small electrical current was buzzing through them. Even his breathing had become jagged. Eli stood up quietly, walked over and sat down next to him, held his hand, weaving their fingers together.

For a long time they stayed like this, sitting on their trunk, holding hands. Like two people waiting for a train to arrive. Eli reached over and peeled away his wool hat, straightening out his mess of hair, combing through it with his fingers. It had started to clump together, become oily. Eli sniffed inconspicuously, wondered if it was him, or both of them.

Oskar smiled weakly, brushed her hand away. Noticed he was no longer trembling, his breath had become even again. He reached back and gathered his hair up behind his head. Maybe it would keep the smell trapped, bundled up in a ponytail. Oskar looked at Eli and watched he did the same, gathered his jet black hair up into a ponytail. It made his face look even smaller, more frail.

"What was in the dungeon?"

"What?"

"The dungeon. You were going to say there was a horde of something."

Oskar let down his hair, Eli did the same.

"Beetles. A horde of Giant fire beetles."

Oskar slid his boots off, pulling the sweatshirt from over his head. Both of them went back over to the map and sat down next to each other. Oskar flipped through his book, studying the section on fire beetles while Eli rummaged through one of the bags from the store, pulled out a couple small, plastic insects and positioned them on the map.