The Devil's Labyrinth (19 page)

C
HAPTER
30

T
HE LAST PLACE
Sofia Capelli wanted to be was exactly where she was. But she had no choice; Sister Mary David had made that very clear when Sofia had made the mistake of telling the nun that she wasn’t going to Kip Adamson’s funeral. So now she stood in the foyer as the entire student body and faculty of St. Isaac’s filed into the chapel, and despite what Sister Mary David had told her, Sofia still did not want to go, and was planning to slip out the door unnoticed as soon as everyone was in the sanctuary.

The moment came, and Sofia turned to make her escape. But even before she could take the first step, Sister Mary David emerged from the dark shadows of the corner to the left of the door, her eyes boring into Sofia. Sofia felt a flash of cold fury and for just an instant imagined blood gushing from the nun’s neck as if Kip Adamson had slashed her rather than the woman he’d actually killed. But the vision faded as quickly as it had come, and, accepting defeat at least for now, Sofia turned to follow the crowd into the chapel, the nun close behind her.

Then, just as she crossed the threshold, it hit her. A wave of nausea that twisted her gut and threatened to overwhelm her before she could even fight it. She sank onto the end of the back pew, barely inside the door, then closed her eyes and tried to quell a growing sickness, but it only increased as the doors were closed and the mass began.

She was trapped.

She felt an overwhelming urge to bolt from the pew and burst through the door to suck in the fresh air outside, but Sister Mary David was standing sentry, her only apparent purpose being to make certain Sofia stayed for the funeral.

As Father Laughlin stood in the pulpit above Kip’s flowered casket and began to pray, Sofia bowed her head like everyone else, but instead of praying for Kip’s soul, she prayed that she’d be able to endure the service to the end without either becoming ill or fainting.

Or both.

Melody Hunt sat in the fourth pew with Clay Matthews on one side of her and Ryan McIntyre on the other. Darren Bender was at the end nearest the aisle, and still trying to save enough space so that Sofia could sit next to him if she showed up. As the organ played softly, Melody leaned across Ryan and touched Darren’s shirtsleeve. “Why isn’t Sofia with us? Did something happen at lunch that you didn’t tell us about?”

Darren shook his head and shrugged helplessly. “You saw what happened, for God’s sake,” he whispered a little too loudly, earning a dark glare from someone in the pew behind him. “She just freaked out. I don’t know what’s going on—I couldn’t talk to her!”

Melody sat still in her seat trying not to look like she was searching the rows of students and faculty for Sofia. Kip’s parents were sitting with Father Sebastian in the front row, along with some people she thought must be his grandparents, and she recognized practically everyone else she knew scattered all over the packed chapel. But there was no sign of Sofia at all.

Finally she twisted around and scanned the crowd behind her, and there was Sofia, her face ashen, sitting in the very last pew with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “There she is,” she whispered as loudly as she dared.

The three boys all turned to look. “Where?”

“Back row by the door.” She nudged Ryan. “Let me out. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Ryan put his hand on her arm. “You can’t go talk to her now—the mass is starting!”

Melody reluctantly turned back to face the front and slipped her hand into Ryan’s.

Ryan squeezed it quickly, then spoke, his eyes on the casket, his voice barely audible. “The last funeral I went to was my dad’s.”

Melody searched her mind for something to say, then settled on just holding his hand even tighter. As if understanding what she meant, his grip tightened, too.

“It’s okay,” Ryan said, his voice sounding nowhere near as certain as his words. “It was two years ago.”

As Melody once more searched for the right words, Father Laughlin signaled the beginning of a hymn, and the entire crowd rose to their feet.

The entire crowd, save one.

Sofia Capelli still sat huddled in her place in the last pew, struggling against the terrible urge to vomit.

As the service wore on, Sofia felt her nausea fade slowly away, to be replaced with a strange vibration. It seemed to emanate from the floor beneath her feet, coming right up through her shoes and into her bones.

What was happening? She looked around, but nobody else seemed to have noticed.

She leaned forward and grasped the back of the pew in front of her.

It, too, vibrated.

Could it be an earthquake?

But it didn’t
feel
like an earthquake. It felt more like some kind of energy, flowing into her through her feet—and now her fingers—making her whole body hum. But what could it be? And why wasn’t it happening to anybody else? But as she looked around again she realized that everyone else in the chapel looked so intent on listening to every word Father Laughlin was saying that Sofia thought a bomb could go off and they wouldn’t notice.

Suddenly the people in the front pew stood up and Sofia felt a brief wave of relief—they must be feeling it, too! But no—they were just going toward the altar to file past Kip’s open casket to say a last good-bye before walking slowly up the aisle and out of the chapel.

There was no way Sofia was going to do that—the last thing she felt like doing was looking at a body.

The humming inside her flared, and for a second her vision faded and the whole chapel seemed to be illuminated by red light.

Blood-red light.

Sofia sat frozen in her place as the strength and power of the hum kept building. She closed her eyes to shut out the red glow, but without the light to distract her, the humming seemed even louder.

Louder, and somehow soothing.

It filled her chest, almost as if it could supplant her heartbeat. And not just her heartbeat, but her breathing as well.

It was as if the humming would supply all the energy she could ever need. She kept her eyes closed as a strength she’d never felt before flooded into her.

When she opened her eyes, she was alone in the chapel.

Had she fallen asleep? How could everyone else have left without her even noticing? But it didn’t matter. She was alone, and free to go. Except that when she stood up, the vibration only grew stronger, the humming intensifying.

Instead of moving through the doors, Sofia felt herself being drawn toward the front of the chapel.

Drawn toward the altar.

Without thinking, she moved silently down the aisle, never hesitating, never faltering, until she stood in front of Kip Adamson’s casket.

The vibration—the humming, the pure energy—was swirling all around her now, and as she gazed down into the open casket, she knew.

This
was the source.

Kip Adamson’s body.

Sofia looked down upon his face, made up so skillfully that he looked as if he was only sleeping, and any touch might awaken him.

Any touch…

The vibration grew and swelled until every nerve in her body was tingling. Now she could almost pick out separate tones within the humming. Suddenly it sounded as if there were a voice deep within the sound.

A human voice.

Kip Adamson’s voice?

“What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What is it?”

Her hand, as if of its own volition, moved down and touched Kip’s right hand, avoiding the rosary that was wound between his fingers.

A surge of something—something dark, something dangerous—flowed through her fingers, up her arm and settled in her chest.

Something from Kip.

Something that had resided deep inside of him.

Something that now resided just as deep inside of her.

With the strange new energy flowing through her, Sofia turned to leave the chapel.

Standing at the doorway, watching her, were Melody Hunt, Darren Bender and Ryan McIntyre.

Sofia found the muscles of her face, willed them to smile, and walked up the aisle toward them.

The afternoon sun almost blinded Ryan as he emerged from the chapel into the late afternoon sun, but even in the glare he recognized his mother.

And not just his mother, either. Tom Kelly was there, too, talking to Father Sebastian.

Why were they here? Had they actually come to the funeral mass?

And why was his mother’s hand tucked through Tom Kelly’s arm exactly the way she used to tuck it through his father’s? Then he saw her spot him and pull her hand away from Tom Kelly to wave to him. But she pulled it away too quickly, which was as good as telling Ryan she was feeling guilty about something. But what? Bringing Tom Kelly here? Or holding his arm the way she used to hold his father’s. Wishing he could just turn around and head for the dorm, but knowing he couldn’t, he started toward her. “There’s my mom,” he told Melody. “And the guy she’s dating, who’s buddies with Father Sebastian.”

“You’re kidding,” Melody whispered, keeping in step with Ryan. “You’ll never be able to get away with anything!”

“Tell me,” Ryan muttered as he managed a smile for his mother.

“Hi, honey,” she said, opening her arms to give him a hug—which he barely managed to sidestep—and a kiss on the cheek, which he had no chance of avoiding at all.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You didn’t even know Kip Adamson, did you?”

His mother reddened slightly. “Actually, it was more an excuse to see you,” she said, and now Ryan felt himself flushing.

“Hi,” Melody said, smiling at his mother while trying not to stare at Tom Kelly.

“This is Melody Hunt,” Ryan said. “She’s tutoring me in Catholic History.”

“My pal’s specialty,” Tom Kelly said, clapping Father Sebastian on the shoulder and grinning at him. “How’s our boy doing?”

Our
boy? Ryan thought. I’m not your boy, and I never will be.

“You look good,” Tom said, appraising Ryan in his school uniform. “How’s life at St. Isaac’s?”

“Fine,” Ryan said, keeping his smile carefully in place and reminding himself that his mother had a right to see whoever she wanted, and there was no point in being a brat about it. He didn’t have to like Tom Kelly, but he didn’t have to try to make his mother miserable, no matter how much he might feel like it.

“Of course it’s only his first week,” Melody said. “So he doesn’t really know what it’s like yet.”

“I gather you’ve been here a while?” Teri asked.

“Since ninth grade,” Melody replied.

“And if we’re late for class, they’ll put us both back in ninth grade,” Ryan said. “And didn’t you say you needed to get your geometry book?” he added, silently praying she’d get the message that even though they still had fifteen minutes, he wanted to get out of here now.

She did. Managing to affect a look of utterly genuine horror, she offered her hand to Teri McIntyre. “We’ve got to run. It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Melody,” Teri said, taking the girl’s hand warmly.

“I’ll catch up in a minute,” Ryan told her as she headed toward the dorms. “I gotta say good-bye to my mom.” Then, as Melody disappeared and Ryan looked at the ground, an awkward silence hung in the air.