donât think so, Alicia.â
âWhy ever not?â
âBecause he died in 1914,â Ellis said, her brows furrowed as she tried to consider the event. âHe was in France at the time.â
âWar casualty, then?â Jonas asked.
âNo,â Ellis continued, her voice thoughtful as she spoke. âHe was a medical corpsman and was going to war, but it was the flu that took him.â
Ellis realized that Jonas was staring at her.
âWhat is it, Jonas?â Ellis asked.
âYou remembered him,â Jonas said.
âYes, I suppose I did,â Ellis realized. âBut why him? Why Murray Abramowitz? I barely knew the manâs name. He was a fellow medical student and I remember the sad irony of his death but he was nothing special to me. Why remember him of all people?â
âMaybe itâs easier to remember people who arenât important,â Alicia suggested. âThey canât hurt you.â
Ellis caught her breath before she spoke. âIâm not all that sure I want to remember now.â
âLetâs keep moving,â Jonas urged.
They came to the top of the stairs. The landing there was absent of any furniture or ornamentation. There was a pair of doors opposite the staircase with more doors to the right and left. The ceiling was a dome of stained glass through which scant light shone down.
Ellis looked at Jonas.
âTo the right,â he said, âI think.â
âArenât you sure?â
âA great many of the corridors are duplicates,â Jonas replied. âKnowing where you are isnât a question of which corridor youâre in, so much as which similar corridor is connected to which other similar corridor and in what order. Let me take a quick look around a couple of corners to be certain. Wait here.â
Jonas moved to the corridor to their right, slipping quickly out of view.
âCorridors on top of corridors,â Alicia huffed. âIâm sure I donât know why he insists on using the passageways. The larger rooms should afford us faster progress and they are all connecting.â
âI take it youâve been in this part of the house, too?â Ellis asked.
âOh, certainly! Although Iâll admit to it being such a very long time ago. Since before you left, in fact. Merrick was so determined to be rid of any remembrance of you that he sealed this Book and had vowed never to open it again. Of course, that was before youâ¦â Alicia paused, looking around her in alarm. âDid you hear that?â
âHear what?â
âThat sound,â Alicia whispered. âListen!â
Soft sobbing. It echoed slightly but sounded quite nearby.
âThrough there,â Alicia murmured, her hand pointing toward one of the doors opposite the stairs leading to the landing.
Ellis stepped toward one of the doors. It was slightly ajar. She gave it a gentle push and it opened onto a large assembly room, towering nearly two stories high to a recessed ceiling. The paint was fading but Ellis could see that the walls had been decorated to look as though they had Roman columns with ornamental garlands between them. Plaques with Roman inscriptions were also painted onto the walls and the ceiling featured Baroque paintings as well. There were arched doors leading out of the room on both sides and a second set of arched doors at the far end of the assembly room. The far doors were open to a dark crossing corridor beyond.
A small face peered back at Ellis through the left-hand door at the far opposite side of the room. It was the face of a girlâperhaps eight or so years old. Her hair was carefully braided with bright red bows matching her dress.
The girl stepped quickly back, her visage vanishing from the open doorway.
âHello?â Ellis offered, her voice echoing between the fading, stained walls of the assembly room.
âWhat is it, Ellis?â Alicia asked behind her.
The
authors_sort
Pete McCarthy
Isabel Allende
Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
Iris Johansen
Joshua P. Simon
Tennessee Williams
Susan Elaine Mac Nicol
Penthouse International
Bob Mitchell