Alex Van Helsing (11 page)

In for a dime, in for a dollar. There was no going back. The tunnel stretched another quarter mile before turning a corner. After that, Alex took off the infrared glasses, because he could make out a glow of light in the distance.

When he reached the end of the tunnel and crouched at the entrance of a vast expanse beyond, Alex let out a low, barely audible whistle.

This was the Scholomance.

Look at the size of that thing.
He had never seen a cave this huge in his life, even compared with the Polidorium headquarters. It stretched seemingly for miles, the shimmering white mesh moving all along the interior,
keeping it from collapsing. His sensation of danger was immense and everywhere, a dull static in the back of his mind.

Alex surveyed what he could make out.

Before him lay a column of vehicles partially obscuring his view of what must be the main entrance of the school, but also giving him some cover. About two football-field lengths from his position lay a main gate, wide enough for cars. It was tall, iron, and marked with a large
S
. Starting at the gate was a stone wall, going into the distance on either side.

Past the vehicles and past the gate, Alex saw a courtyard and a turreted castle beyond. Around and behind the castle lay several large buildings of modern design, black marble and glass, looking very much like modern university structures.

Let’s go,
Alex thought. He scurried forward and to the side, crouching next to an armored personnel carrier. This was one of the vehicles he had seen coming in the night Icemaker had arrived. What next? He would need to get through the gate or over the wall. Beyond that, what? He was a human in jeans and a light jacket. He would need to find some way to pass.

Next to the cold metal of the personnel carrier, Alex surveyed for guards. No one stood between him and the
wall. He took a breath, rose, and sprinted the distance, not stopping until he laid his hands on the stone of the wall itself.

The wall was twelve feet high, more than twice his height. Alex studied it. For a moment he considered running to the gate and shimmying up between the gate and the wall, but it was too risky. He would be exposed the whole time.

Then Alex remembered the go package. He slipped off the pack, crouching low next to the wall, and pulled out the grappling gun.
While I’m at it…
He put a fresh cartridge in the Polibow and closed the pack.

He stepped back, aiming the grappling gun in the air, and fired. A quiet
shoomp
sound sent a silver hook and braided climbing line high and over the wall. Alex pulled until he heard it clank softly on the other side. He waited till it had found purchase on the lip of the wall and then tugged.

Within moments Alex climbed up and lay flat on the top of the wall. It was rough-hewn but not razor sharp. He found he could press his face against it without too much discomfort, and he froze there, watching. Then he gingerly, quickly drew in the line, bundled it up, and slipped it back in the pack as he surveyed the scene.

The grass was
white
, he realized with astonishment.
Where on a normal campus there would be manicured green lawns, here the grass was bone white and nearly blinding, thick and neatly trimmed. The “sky,” which was the distant rock ceiling of the cavern, only contributed to the bizarre nature of the landscape.

Then he saw guards milling around near the gate. He ducked his head, feeling adrenaline flood through his chest. He would have been right next to them if he had chosen that path.

They were dressed all in white, like the girl he had faced in the woods barely a week ago. He thought for a second. That was before Icemaker got here. And Icemaker’s vampires had worn red.

Now he realized how he would get in. But he wouldn’t want these.
These
were the locals, guards of the Scholomance. They would probably be more recognizable—he would have a harder time replacing one. The red guards were newcomers and would be barely known.

Alex waited for the guards to move farther off, then began to creep along the top of the wall until he reached an area where more vehicles were parked below him on the inside of the wall.

Near another APC was a pair of vampires in dark red gear and hoods. Perfect.

This didn’t happen: He didn’t drop off the wall and tap the vampires on the shoulder. The vampires didn’t look back like a pair of idiots and let Alex clobber them and take their clothes. That
might
have happened—in an infinite universe that had to happen sometimes—but it didn’t happen this time, because Alex nearly blew it falling off the wall.

Alex started to drop, but as he swept his legs down his sweatshirt caught on the jagged top of the brick, and he gasped as it caught his neck. He pushed off and gasped again as he landed on his shoulder.

Fifteen yards away, the two vampires in red swept their heads instantly in his direction.

Spotted.
He didn’t have time for anything else. The vampires moved with insane speed, a blur of red leggings and boots and white faces coming toward him. Alex lifted the Polibow and squeezed off a bolt. With a
fwoosh
the vampire on the right went up in a cloud of dust.

The other went straight for Alex, grabbing him by the throat before he had a chance to register what was happening. The Polibow fell from Alex’s hand and for a moment Alex stared into the vampire’s shining eyes. “What’s this?” hissed the vampire.

Alex blinked as time slowed to a crawl.

Never freeze. Answer the questions.

What’s going on? He’s choking me.

What do you have? I dropped my weapon!

What else do you have? I have a stake, it’s in my belt.

The vampire’s nails were digging into his neck as he found the handle of the stake in his belt loop, no more hesitation,
grab it
.

It had eyes. Human eyes. Eyes on a body someone gave birth to once. Someone…

This isn’t a person. It’s a nonperson, a former person, a post-critical-failure-whatever person. Stab it before it makes you one, too. Do it now.

He yanked the stake up, catching the vampire in the belly. The creature hissed in pain as his skin burned, flesh sizzling as it touched the wooden shaft, and he dropped Alex.

Alex wasted no time in withdrawing the weapon and slamming it home again into the creature’s chest. The dust explosion scattered over him and Alex’s eyes blazed with agony as the particles got in them. He bent forward, blinking, feeling the plastic of his contacts swimming frantically over his eyeballs.

Alex breathed hard, blinking.

Great. It would help if you got the clothes before you burned them up
.

He moved in silence along the line of vehicles until he found another chance—a red-uniformed vampire working under the hood of a Humvee.

The static started to hiss more loudly as he pressed on, his heart racing.
You can do this. Go.

Alex ran up and smacked aside the bar holding up the hood. With all his strength he brought the hood down on the creature. It landed heavily, trapping the vampire’s head. The vampire fought, clawing but unseeing.

Alex slammed the hood again and the vampire went still.

It couldn’t be dead, he realized. It didn’t go
fwoosh
.

He felt his blood pumping as he moved quickly, as if by instinct. No—certainly by instinct. This was the business he was built for. Alex grabbed the vampire’s tunic and dared to lift the vehicle hood slightly as he ripped the tunic up and over the creature’s head. He let the hood drop again and made quick work of stripping the red leggings, boots, and tunic from the creature. Just as the vampire was coming to, he shot it.

Alex ducked behind the Humvee and donned the red leggings and tunic over his own clothes—they were much too big for him—and was forced to wear the backpack underneath, over his shirt. He kept the Polibow on his shoulder under the tunic as well, but slid the stake
into an outer pocket of the leggings.

By the time he reached the end of the vehicle line, he was dressed like a vampire, albeit not a tall one, and hoping his hood helped him look like one.

Alex paused at the edge of the castle. He could see the whole courtyard and a number of large, black marble buildings behind the Scholomance castle. For the first time he got a good view of the populace.

There were vampires on the lawn before the castle and around the side as well, some walking together, some sprawled on the straight, white grass with what Alex surmised were books. Some of the books he saw were old and leather-bound, but many of them were new and slick.

There were vampires playing soccer in the main courtyard. This place looked like a university mall or park, and the whole student body seemed to be out and about. He had no choice but to step forward, hood drawn over his head, and begin walking quickly along the path, moving up alongside the castle, looking for an entrance.

As he walked, a pair of vampires in white looked his way, and Alex nodded as best he could in his hood, hoping the mortality of his flesh did not show or smell through the borrowed tunic.

If Paul and Minhi were being held captive, surely they
would be in a dungeon. That would be in the castle. But he didn’t see a side entrance into the castle.

As he reached the rear of the castle, he saw that it was connected to the black marble buildings. An entrance ahead of him, into the next building, read simply
CAFETERIA
.

Well, vampires gotta eat. Or drink.
He tried not to think too hard about it, because there was no turning back and he had to keep moving.

Alex proceeded up a short staircase, through glass doors, and into a cafeteria like none he had ever seen.

Oh my God.
There were tables throughout the room, with a familiar hodgepodge of students studying and talking, but next to term papers and books and mash notes were glasses, goblets, plastic Nalgene bottles, all filled with a red liquid. Alex didn’t want to contemplate
how
they filled the vessels, but then he saw them: captives. Lining the back of the cafeteria were cages hanging from hooks in the ceiling. In the cages were humans, sullen and unseeing.

Fear shot through him for Minhi and Paul. He scanned the captives’ faces rapidly as he drew closer, moving along the edge of the cafeteria. There were seven, all told. The half-dead captives were as pale as death but alive, dressed shabbily in hospital gowns. Four females,
three males, all adult. Paul and Minhi were not among them.

As he passed, one of the captives, a woman who appeared to be about forty, looked at him, and his heart leapt as she seemed to move her mouth.

He had to keep going.

Alex made a decision that he knew was only awaiting the right moment. He exited the cafeteria on the right and made his way into a hallway.

A hallway that was full of vampires.

For a moment the static rose to a roar and he had to pause and force it to the back of his mind.

A crowd of vampires, most of them wearing white, was moving steadily toward him from either direction, passing all around, each headed his or her own way. Alex turned to the wall, pretending to study a bulletin board, looking for a map.

There wasn’t one. For a moment he listened to the voices as they passed, hearing the vampires talking among themselves. He could pick up nothing of import—most of them seemed to be students concerned about classes. Here and there he heard the term
Icemaker
, but nothing he could grab on to.

Then he heard voices on a higher register and looked down the hall. A bunch of student vampires, appearing to be in their mid-teens, were moving in a group. They were young ones—or at least vampires who had been young when turned.

A tall vampire woman with long, brown hair came out of the cafeteria and seemed to stop and look at Alex as she passed, slowing a bit.

Determined not to stand still, Alex waited until the classroom-size group had nearly passed and then he slipped in behind them.

For about fifty yards he walked with the short vampires. One toward the end of the line looked back and slowed to walk next to him.

It was a vampire boy with black hair and white eyes, his hood down. “Are you one of Icemaker’s army?” he asked.

Alex kept walking, nodding inside his hood. “Yes,” he rasped. “We, ah, serve the master in all things.”

“Do you all talk like that? That must be really weird. I thought only the really ancient ones talked that way. Are you very old but got changed as a boy?”

Alex looked sideways, trying not to let too much of his face show. “I don’t remember anymore,” he said.
Ridiculous answer.

His eye started to twitch. He felt instantly what was happening and swore inwardly. A speck of dust fell from his eyelash into his right eye and he blinked rapidly. “I mean, it was very long ago,” he stuttered to the boy. He tried to control his blinking, but the soft plastic of the contact was shifting under his eyelid. It was losing its grasp on his eyeball. Beside him, the boy was trying to get a better look at him as he kept talking.

“I’m kind of new at this—I only got changed recently,” the boy said. “But I’m getting better. Some of us are going to sneak out later and go hunting.”

Alex said, choking back the itch in his eye, “Hunting?”

“Absolutely,” said the boy. “But don’t tell anyone. One girl didn’t come back after we hunted this painter the other night. It’s against the rules, you know. But still.”

“But still,” Alex repeated.
Don’t let him see your face. Don’t touch your face.
The contact rolled in his eyelid as he blinked uncontrollably and felt it pop out.

He was blind in the right eye. Half his vision, including the boy, went into a dull, indecipherable blur.

He panicked for a second; he hated being blind, he couldn’t be blind here, not now. The contact hadn’t fallen—he felt it resting on his cheek, slick and stuck for a moment.

“You know, you kind of smell funny,” the vampire boy said.

Get away.
He shrugged as a response to the boy, reaching inside his pocket for the stake and dropping back.

The crowd was moving toward the next corner, but on his left, in his clear vision, Alex spotted a large, black door along the hallway. He prayed that the contact would stay stuck to his face if he just moved steadily enough. As he passed the door, he slid in one quick movement to the wall, grasped the brass handle, and opened the door, slipping out of the hall into a room.

He immediately grabbed the contact, knowing his hands were filthy but having no other choice, and hurriedly popped the lens into his mouth. He kept it on his tongue, willing himself not to swallow, not to allow his mouth to fill too much with saliva. He could wash it with his tongue if he was careful enough.

Alex looked around and nearly gulped in surprise.

The room was entirely made of gold—actual, literal gold, with a golden slab at the center. Instantly he saw that the slab was not resting on any support; it floated in the air as if suspended from invisible wire. Something the size of a birdcage, two feet tall and rounded at the top, sat on the slab, covered in a golden blanket.

Alex kept his mouth shut, tumbling the contact
lens around on his tongue as he spun back. The door behind him appeared as a thinly demarcated line engraved in a wall that shimmered in gold as well. The walls shone and went on in a circle.
No right angles. No decoration.

Fix your eye.

Alex furiously rubbed his hands as clean as he could get them on the tunic, swishing the contact against the roof of his mouth. After a moment he stuck out his tongue, grasping the lens tenderly between his right thumb and forefinger.

He held it up, using his good left eye to visually inspect the outline of the contact. Alex frowned—he had it turned inside out. It didn’t look like a bowl. The curve of the contact lens was lipped out at the edges. Alex popped it back into his mouth and moved his tongue, feeling it switch its orientation. He stuck out his tongue again and grabbed it.

Alex looked close with his good eye. The contact was mottled with spit, but unblemished and whole. He pried open his right eye and pressed the contact in, wincing as he swirled his eye around, letting the lens settle back into place. After a moment he was able to blink.
Man, I hate these things.

Alex swiveled in a circle.
What is this place?

The birdcage with the blanket stared back at him in silence.

He had no choice. He had to see.

Slowly, stepping on a soft golden floor that was burnished to an extreme shine, Alex approached the slab. As he drew near he became aware of a dull thrumming sound.

Alex reached for the blanket, watching his own human hand as if stunned that he dared. He grabbed the top of the blanket and ripped it back.

Before him lay the world.

It spun slowly in the air, the vaguely misshapen world itself. As Alex peered closer he saw that this was not simply a globe—it
was
the earth, in some magical way. He saw textures and crevices, vast swaths of white concrete stretching through North America, glass and steel towering in the Northeast.

He circled the globe, tracing the line of the Great Wall of China through Asia.

There were golden dots shining from the globe, groups of them in Europe, America, Asia, everywhere.

He circled a second time against the slow revolution of the earth, peering closely at Europe, trying to find Switzerland.

A large glob of gold shone from Lake Geneva.

This was a map of vampires. In his mind he remembered the slogan of the Polidorium:
There are such things.

Alex reached out a finger to touch the Atlantic.

It felt wet to the touch and he scoffed lightly. Then the room erupted with alarms.

As blaring horns rang out, Alex threw the blanket back over the vampire earth and bolted for the door. He pushed at it, and in a second was out in the hallway.

The door slid back into place, looking no more impressive than it had before.

He took a half second to study the hall and saw now that fewer vampires were passing. Out here, he couldn’t hear the alarm. He kept moving.

Down the hall Alex stopped at another bulletin board with little note cards that read things like
MUSICAL TRYOUTS and NEED A ROOMMATE/NONSMOKING ONLY
. He turned his hood to the wall to lessen the exposure of his face to the passing students.

On one side of the board was a calendar with upcoming and current events listed, and Alex silently read them off.

His eyes landed on a notice that filled him with alarm:
MIDNIGHT TONIGHT: PRESENTATION OF THE KEYHOLE SACRIFICE. DUNGEON AUDITORIUM. ALL WELCOME
.

Keyhole sacrifice?

Keyhole?

His mind raced. There was something Sid had said, something Mary Shelley had put into
Frankenstein
when she revised it. Mary Shelley said Polidori had told a story about a skull-headed lady looking through a keyhole. And Sid had said that was made up, because Polidori was working on a story about
Byron
. Alex shook his head, wishing he could get Sid on his useless Bluetooth to talk him through it. Too many coincidences. Was it possible that somehow
Frankenstein
carried a clue?

Alex snuck a look at his watch: 11:42
P.M
.

He had to move.

In the corner of the bulletin board Alex saw a campus map.
The Dungeon Auditorium.
He found its location and headed for the interior of the castle back the way he’d come.

Alex walked as quickly as he dared through the hallways, passing the golden map room and the cafeteria, until he entered darker, older interiors. The tile of the new buildings gave way to the rough-hewn stone of the castle. He joined a steady flow of vampires all heading in the same direction. Alex reached an open door into a circular stairwell that traveled down several flights. No one was paying attention to him as he descended,
and after a moment he understood why. As he reached a large entryway where many vampires were entering, he felt the temperature drop mightily.

He pushed silently into an auditorium, past rows and rows of seats that were filling up.

Toward the front, with a backdrop of curtains, was a tower of ice that flattened out at the top into a circular raised stage. From the stage of ice rose a tombstonelike monolith, also ice, some ten feet high.

In the center of the monolith was a window, cut in the shape of a keyhole and framed by stone set into the ice. Before it stood Icemaker himself.

Alex stuck to the wall, reaching the corner and trying to melt into it. The lights dimmed.

“My children, what is your suit?” came the voice of Icemaker.

“We seek everlasting life,” the crowd responded.

“The time has come to become something new,” he said. “To speak to the demon-goddess Nemesis and beg her for our queen. All has been prepared.”

He held up a scroll. Alex stared at it, the carved animal head atop it—a fox? “In a few minutes’ time, at the start of what the mortals call the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows”—Icemaker looked up at the enormous clock, which read ten to midnight—“we will summon her and
make our sacrifice.” He gestured dramatically toward the curtains in the back of the auditorium.

The crowd roared in approval.

Minhi and Paul had not been among the captives at the cafeteria. They were probably about to be the main course here. That meant they might be backstage even now. Alex started moving along the wall.