The Descent by Alma Katsu Page A

draw the queen’s attention; for his sins had to stretch behind him in chains so long they circled the earth; even Atlas would barely be able to stand the weight.

    Now I had to wait for Adair’s answer. After my earlier experience getting lost in the house’s labyrinth of stairways and floors, I was loath to go exploring on my own again. It was midafternoon when I trotted downstairs. First, I checked in the kitchen for Robin and Terry and later went back to Adair’s study and rapped on the closed door, but there were no signs of anyone. All was quiet and empty. Knives were left on the cutting board next to minced parsley, a book open and turned facedown, as though Terry and Robin had left in the middle of preparations.
    Finally, I decided I might as well finish touring the island—if Adair’s attitude toward me darkened, I could be leaving it at any time. I borrowed a heavy shawl left hanging on a hook by the door and went outside, only to be immediatelyassaulted by a wind so fierce that it seemed to want to drive me back into the house. I wasn’t about to give up that easily, however, and head down, started off for a walk.
    The terrain was uninviting, no matter which direction you went. I headed for the stand of pines, as it was the only windbreak on the island, picking my way over moss-covered rocks and holding my breath each time I almost slipped. On the other side of the trees was the long black beach. The slope made the approach bad for boats, as did the whirlpools and swells and rough currents that made such an approach impossible. Landing at the dock was the only way onto the island and made the island easily defensible. No wonder some earlier settlers had put a fortress on it.
    I followed the beach until the shore became rocky, then cut inland to a worn, uneven trail that led over rocks stacked like giant children’s blocks. When the rocks became cliffs I retreated farther inland, parallel to the coast, until I was back where I started. At this point I was mildly tired and windblown and the weather was picking up, and with the house staring down on me like a strict governess, I gave up and went inside.
    Chilled to the bone, I kept the shawl wrapped around my shoulders as I wandered down the hall, calling “Hello? Hello?” even though I knew by the silence that there was no one about. As I passed the dining room, I saw that the table had been set with one plate holding a sandwich of cold meat on bread and a small haystack of dressed greens. One very full goblet of red wine and a damask napkin completed the vignette. Being hungry, I sat down and ate, pausing now and then to listen for evidence of someone else in the house. There was none.
    I left the crusts on the plate, pushed back from the table, and took the goblet upstairs with me to my room. The bed had been made and a fire started, but it could not have been burning for very long, as there was still a chill in the air. I was beginning to feel like Goldilocks in the bears’ house. The others had to be around; there was nowhere else to go on the island and nowhere to hide, except in this fun house of a dwelling. I had the feeling they were all around me—I just couldn’t see them. As darkness fell and the house settled into creaks and groans, I downed a sleeping pill—no, two—with the last of my wine and crawled into bed, and before long was asleep.

    I decided the next morning to bring Adair’s books to him, even if he didn’t seem in a rush to get them back, perhaps because he no longer needed them, surrounded as he was by Crowley’s assistant’s collection. I slipped them out of my knapsack and went downstairs to leave them in his study.
    I went to Adair’s study, knocking once before pushing back the old wooden door to find him sitting in a chair, staring into the fire. It was an incredible relief to see him, as I was half-afraid the room would be empty and I’d have another lonely day in front of me.
    He looked up at me wanly. I hid my