Secret of the Sevens (4 page)

Five

The great thing about Adderall is it totally helps me focus. The bad thing is, I'm not always focusing on the right thing. While my math teacher is introducing herself and the fascinating world of Senior Calculus, I'm still cracking up over Senile Solomon calling the Pillars
bullshit
.

Professor Anderson answers a knock on the door and steps outside. She returns a second later, waving a yellow pass. “Mr. Michaels, you're wanted in the Hadley building.”

Great. What did I do this time? I scoop up my things and pluck the slip from her hand.

It reads:
Talan Michaels. Appointment: 2:30. Room 07, Hadley Hall.

I cut across the quad toward the oldest building on campus. Why would they want to see me here? Except for the thing at assembly, I can't think of anything I've done wrong recently. That they know of, anyhow.

I open the front door and flash my pass at the security guard. He reads the note over a couple times as I sign in. “Room 07? I don't see a lot of passes for rooms in the basement.” He hands it back and points to a doorway. “Take that stairwell there.”

The muscles in my shoulders stiffen as I ramble down the rickety steps into a dark corridor. The air is humid and musty. There's a single dim bulb hanging from the ceiling in the center of the long hallway.

Unnerved, I squint to read the faded numbers on the old wood doors. The darkness in the narrow hall is starting to trigger my claustrophobia. When my shoes squeak like a bad speaker, I twist around, thinking someone's behind me. What am I freaking out about? There's no one else here. I'm alone.

Alone.

In a strange building.

For a meeting I knew nothing about.

In an empty hallway … in a dimly lit basement … that no one ever uses.

The hairs on my arm stand up. My eyes shift around, searching the walls for anything familiar.

“Hello?”

No answer.

All the classroom lights are off except for one at the very end of the hall. A strip of light glows from under the door. I drift toward it like an insect to a bug zapper.

The door to room 07 creaks as I open it and wander inside. The room is empty, except for a chalkboard on one wall with a message:

Yes, Talan. The letter is for you. And it's real.

My breath catches in my throat. What letter? What's going on? I look around the room and then peer out into the hallway, but there's still no one around.

Scanning the room again, I spot a black velvet envelope with a red wax seal sitting on the ledge of the chalkboard. I go over and grab it, just as a cold sweat starts to collect under my shirt.

Inside is a card printed with fancy writing:

Master Talan Michaels,

You have been chosen for membership in the resurrected Society of Seven. Participation in The Society requires absolute loyalty, a lifelong oath of silence, and a commitment of sacrificial service to the true purposes of our brotherhood. In return, the secrets of The Society are bestowed upon the pledges, including access to fraternal wealth and wisdom. Upon final initiation into The Society, each member is assigned the Great Responsibility and awarded the Great Reward: the use of Society resources to fulfill your greatest desire.

Choose or refuse, you will have until midnight tonight to decide. If refusing, destroy this card and speak of it never, lest ye choose to invite misery upon yourself. Be warned: Do not take this vow lightly.

If accepting, return this invitation by way of the mausoleum of Mary Harper Singer, behind the chapel ruins in the cemetery off Rucker Road. Slide this card under the palm of the weeping angel that watches over our beloved matriarch.

Noblesse Oblige: “To whom much is given, much is expected.”

I shove the card back inside the envelope. “Funny,” I yell. “If you're listening, you wasted a lot of time and energy trying to punk me.”

It's completely quiet, except for the sound of my heart hammering in my ears. I jam the envelope in my pocket and dash into the hall, hoping to catch the prankster outside. The corridor is empty. As I walk down the hall, the darkness makes me jumpy. My steps get quicker until I'm jogging up the stairs two at a time. By the time I fling open the door at the top and reach the security guard, I'm soaked with sweat.

“No one showed up for your meeting?” he asks.

“No. How'd you know that?”

“I would have seen if someone went downstairs. This is the only door to the basement.”

I swipe perspiration from my forehead. “Did you notice who went down there earlier today?”

“No one. It's been dead since I opened the building at seven. I'd have seen it if someone came in.”

“Someone must have come by. The lights were on in room 07.”

“Couldn't have been.”

“Well, they were.”

“You probably flicked them on and forgot. No one's been down there for months. I'm sure of it.”

I look back at the door, and a shiver grips my spine.

“Son?” The guard taps me on the shoulder. “You need to get back to class.”

The whole walk back to Calculus, I try to figure it out. Who would prank me? I don't have any enemies except for Kollin, and he wouldn't waste his precious time on something that could get him suspended. I suppose Marcus or Jake might have done it, but neither of them have access to Hadley Hall, or to passes for that matter. Only administrators could have pulled this off, and they wouldn't do it. After what happened to Mr. Singer, secret societies are more than prohibited at Singer—they're taboo.

The weirdness of everything starts to obsess me, and I can't stop thinking about it all the way through detention with Headmaster Boyle. It'd take more than one person to pull this off. Who had the resources or a burning need to play me for an idiot?

Rinsing out the last garbage can that Boyle made me scrub as punishment, I look up just as Cameron Moore strolls by the cafeteria window in a tailored blue blazer, playing with his new cell phone.

The Pillars.

I charge out the side door and grab his arm. “Moore!”

He stares at my hand like I'm some grubby peasant who just got grime on his opera jacket.

“I know what you're up to,” I say.

His head jerks back, his face crumpling like a used napkin. “Dude. Back off. I have no idea what you're talking about.” He shakes my arm off and walks away, his focus returning to his new phone.

I almost believe him. But two steps later, he stops cold. His back straightens and he slowly spins around. His eyebrows pull to the center and his squinty gaze looks me up and down. Suddenly, I'm worthy of his attention.

He walks toward me, his head tilting slightly. “Wait. What exactly are you saying?” he whispers.

“You know damn well what I mean. The Sevens are back? You might have screwed people with that Pillar thing, but this time you fucked with the wrong person.” I walk away and leave him standing there.

Back in the cafeteria, I put the last garbage can away and glance out the window. Moore stands frozen in the same spot where I left him, texting like mad. It's a new look for his cocky face—a mix of confusion and fear.

Six

I should have known the goodwill would run dry. When I get home from detention, Mom Shanahan is pissed. “A detention on the first day of school? And right after regaining privileges? This is certainly not the way to start your senior year, Talan.”

I try to look innocent. “I swear I was whispering. I don't know how Solomon could have heard me.”

She raises her eyebrows and brushes past me. “Finish your dinner and chores and get to your homework.”

I scarf down my enchiladas and scrub the kitchen counters in a hurry. I need to talk to Laney. She's the smartest person I know. She can help me figure out what the Pillars are up to.

I catch her just as she bolts out her bedroom door. “Hold up. I need to talk to you.”

She grabs her backpack off the hook by the door and shoves something inside. “Later, Talan. I've got to be somewhere before it gets dark.”

Mom Shanahan strolls up behind her. “You going somewhere, Lane?”

“I have to get to the library for an assignment. For my Ethics and Virtues class.”

When Mom leaves, I shake my head at Laney. “Solomon said only the Pillars had homework. Remember?”

“Oh. Right. Well, I have tons of other homework I need to do.” She swings her backpack over her shoulder.

“On the first day of school?”

“Listen, I can't talk right now. I've gotta hurry.”

Laney spins around and I notice something poking out of the top of her bag—a black envelope. It takes me a minute to place it, but when I do, it hits me like a slap.

She got an invitation to join the Sevens too.

“Wait, Laney. Hang on—”

She waves off my outstretched hand and calls goodbye to her mom.

“Laney, hold up!” I yell, but the back door slams in my face.

Mom Shanahan pops her head around the corner.

“I—I'm going with her.” I point to the back door. “To the library. We have Solomon's class together.” I toss my dishrag in the sink and charge for the door.

“You don't even have your backpack.”

“We're using Laney's book. I gotta go.”

I jog down the driveway, but Laney's nowhere in sight. I remember the envelope in my back pocket. The mausoleum. She must be headed for the graveyard.

Damn it, Laney, don't fall for it! They're trying to make fools of us.

I run through the yards, past the playground and ball fields until I spot her in the distance. “Laney, wait!”

Thinking she can ditch me, she dashes through the woods. I race after her, but the best I can do is keep her in sight. I'm out of breath when I finally catch up. “Laney,” I gasp. “Stop already.”

“You can't be here. Go away.”

“The invitation isn't real. It's a joke.”

Her legs fossilize, then she slowly turns. “How do you know about that?”

I pull the envelope from my back pocket and wave it at her. “I got one too.” I take a deep breath. “Do you think I'd get chosen for something like that? I think the Pillars are playing a joke on us. Don't fall for it.”

Her face turns to stone. “It's not the Pillars, Talan. This is for real.”

“Don't be so gullible. They're trying to play us.”

“Don't be so cynical. I'm telling you, this is
real
. They know something about me that the Pillars wouldn't.” She stands directly in front of me, her brown eyes penetrating my skeptical stare. “The Sevens are real,” she says quietly. “I'm sure of it. They're back. And they want
us
.”

It never even crossed my mind that this could be legit. A secret society that's willing to grant my greatest desire like a fairy godmother? No way.

“Laney, think about it. Why would they want me?”

“Oh geez, Talan, a million reasons that I don't have time to give you. Are you coming?” She nods toward the mausoleum. “We need to do this before Security makes its rounds. Are you in or not?”

“I don't … I don't … We need to think about this.”

She puts her hands on her waist. “Please. Since when do you take time and think things through, Mr. ADD?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, struggling for words to convince her. “It doesn't make any sense. The Sevens have been dead for almost twenty years.”

Laney shakes her head and moves closer. “Only five students died in that fire. Remember? Two were never found. They kept the secrets. They know what happened. They know a lot of things.”

“Come on, Laney, we could get hurt. Even if someone is resurrecting the Sevens, it can't be good. They were murderers! They stole William Singer's money and then they killed him.”

“I told you before, that was just a theory. There was a large amount of money missing, so the detectives considered it a possible motive. They never had any proof the Sevens took it.”

I grab her arm and tug her toward the road. “It's a joke, Laney. C'mon. Let's go home.”

“No. It's real! I'm positive about this.” She pushes off me, stepping backward. “You don't have to believe or go through with this, but I do. Go home if you want. But please, don't tell. You owe me one, remember?”

Before I can say another word, she turns and sprints to the mausoleum behind the chapel ruins. Light seeps from a small stained-glass window at the top of the tomb. God, what's she thinking? Someone could be waiting in there to hurt her. I take off after her, weaving between the headstones.

Circling the outside of the mausoleum, I check the graveyard for anyone who might be lurking, but there's no one in sight. When I get back to the front steps, Laney's already gone in.

My heart pounds a drum solo as I jerk the door open and stumble inside.

Laney stands facing the rear wall, inspecting seven candles on a marble shelf there.

The flickering flames illuminate two brass plates on the wall to my left:
William Singer.
Mary Singer.
I look down at the smooth marble drawers below them with the morbid realization that they contain the corpses of our school's murdered founder and his wife. Suddenly I picture William, standing where I am now, kissing that same nameplate every night for five years. My body chills like I plunged into an icy lake.

The candles throw Laney's shadow around the room as she spins to take it all in. I glance around too, alert for signs of danger, although I have no idea what I'm looking for.

Laney gravitates to the center of the room, hypnotized by a life-size marble sculpture of an angel bending over a coffin. It's an eerie monument, especially at night. The angel rests her grief-stricken face on the lid. Her body collapses over the top of an intricately carved casket with her arms stretched in despair. The candlelight flickers and all I can think is how we need to get out of here.

Laney's fingers skim the wings and glide down the angel's arm to her hand. “It's beautiful, don't you think?” she whispers.

“It's creepy. Come on, Lane. Can we please go before we get in trouble?”

She reads over the invitation. “It says to slide this card under the palm of the weeping angel. I don't get it.” She moves closer. “Her hand is lying flat on the coffin.”

The two of us crouch together and examine the hand close up.

“Wait,” she says, “look at the fingertips. They're raised slightly off the surface.” She slips the card beneath the pads of the angel's fingers. Suddenly, the card is sucked into the marble coffin and disappears.

Laney jumps back. “Oh my God. It's gone!”

Startled by her voice, a bird squawks and flies across the rafters. Laney shrieks and presses her hand to her chest. “Okay. We need to get out of here. Now!” She grabs my wrist and jerks me toward the door.

My heart's still racing as I shake her hand off mine. I yank the card from my back pocket and slide it under the angel's fingertips.

“If you're going for it, then I am too.”