Professor Gargoyle (14 page)

“This is the place,” Karina announced.

Robert was confused. She had promised to bring him to a swimming pool. Instead she had led him to a door labeled “The Wilbur Whately Memorial Natatorium.”

“What happened to the pool?” he asked.

“This
is
the pool,” Karina explained. “A natatorium is a room with a pool inside it.”

Glenn opened the door. “Holy cow.”

Lovecraft Middle School had the biggest indoor swimming pool any of them had ever seen, fifty meters long and bathed in sunshine from skylights cut into the tall, arched ceiling. There were ten lanes for swimming, three platforms for diving, and a pair of empty lifeguard stands.

Robert, Glenn, and Karina were alone in the natatorium, but they wouldn’t be for long. Sarah and Sylvia Price were due to arrive any moment.

“Where can we hide?” Robert asked, looking around. The air in the natatorium tickled the back of his throat. It was warm and humid and reeked of chlorine.

“Over here,” Karina called.

Spanning the length of the pool were rows of metal bleachers for coaches, parents, and other spectators. Karina had already climbed behind the stands. It was a tight squeeze for Robert and even worse for Glenn; they had to crouch down on all fours to squeeze through.

“What if a teacher catches us?” Glenn asked.

“Don’t worry,” Karina said. “As long as we don’t move, no one’s going to see us.”

It was true: To anyone looking at the bleachers, the kids were virtually invisible, camouflaged by the benches and rails and supports.

From their hiding place, Robert could see only the very surface of the water, as clear and still as glass.

“You’re sure they’re definitely coming?” Robert asked.

“They’re here every day before lunch,” Karina said. “The question is, why.”

Robert wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. The last time he tried spying on someone, he’d witnessed his science teacher, Professor Goyle, eating a live hamster.

Moments later, Sarah and Sylvia emerged from the locker room, dressed in simple one-piece swimsuits and
chatting pleasantly. To anyone watching, they appeared to be perfectly ordinary sisters. But to anyone listening, they sounded like snorting, snarling lunatics.

“
Yh’nghai tsathogua dho-na
,” said Sarah.

Sylvia smiled. “
Y’golonac chaugnar faugn
.”

“
Hgulet tcho-tcho, ep hgulut shaggai
.”

It was the same bizarre language that Professor Goyle had spoken—but what did it mean? Robert had no idea.

The sisters had reached the edge of the pool and were preparing to dive in when Sylvia stopped, scowled, and raised her hand. “
Gnai Glaacki!
”

Both girls glanced around the natatorium, as if suddenly realizing they weren’t alone.

Together, they approached the bleachers.

A long forked tongue unfurled from Sarah’s mouth, purple and black and eight inches long. It flickered this way and that, as if she were somehow testing the air. Robert remembered learning that snakes used their tongues to detect smell. He forced himself to remain absolutely still, hoping all the chlorine in the natatorium would mask his scent.

And it must have, because after a few moments Sarah retracted her tongue, satisfied they were alone.

“
Shai Shabblat?
” Sylvia asked.

“
Y’ai zhro
,” Sarah replied.

Together they raised their arms above their heads and then dove into the deep end. Robert watched the water lapping against the edges of the pool, the waves slowly ebbing until once again the surface was as clear and still as glass.

“What are they doing?” Glenn whispered.

“Shhh,” Robert said.

He was counting off the seconds—forty-one, forty-two, forty-three—wondering how long Sarah and Sylvia could stay underwater before surfacing for air. Robert counted all the way to three hundred before stopping.

“How long can you hold your breath?” he asked Glenn.

“I don’t know. A minute? Maybe two,” Glenn answered. “They’ve been down there for five.”

“They’re not human,” Karina reminded him. “Some reptiles can stay underwater for hours.”

“Right,” Robert said. “But why? What are they
doing
under the water?”

No one had the answer to that question.

“We need to see what they’re up to,” he said. “There
has to be a reason they come here every day.”

Robert squeezed out from behind the bleachers and crept toward the pool. He wanted to glimpse the sisters without being seen—but they remained just out of view. He had no choice but to step right up to the edge of the water.

“Glenn? Karina?” he called. “You can come out.”

His friends rushed to his side and looked down into the pool. Apart from several hundred thousand gallons of water, it was empty.

“What happened?” Glenn asked.

“They vanished,” Robert said.

Karina shook her head. “They crossed over,” she said. “This must be how they get back to Tillinghast. There must be a gate at the bottom.”

Robert realized she was right. It would explain why Sarah and Sylvia returned to the pool every day: They were traveling back and forth between Lovecraft Middle School and Tillinghast Mansion.

He sat down at the edge of the pool, unlaced his sneakers, and pulled off his socks.

Glenn knelt beside him. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Robert asked.