Chapter 6

48 9 6
                                    


The door shuddered out of my way. I stepped into the lobby and let it close itself behind me. As my gaze drifted up the stairs, I noticed something I should have seen earlier. In the dusty red carpet that covered each step were footprints. Two sets going up and two sets going down. All of them, mine.

Will stood with one foot on the top stair, the other two steps lower.

"Your face has gone all white," he said. I'd never seen anyone look guiltier than Will, except this one time when Mom worked out the Band-Aid on Andy's nose hid a brand-new piercing.

I shoved my hand into my pocket and wrapped it around my rabbits foot. The claws dug into my skin, but I didn't care. I scrambled up the stairs, two at a time, until I stood on the same one as him. A haze of dust filled the air behind me, but there wasn't any around him. No footprints either, in any direction. Even my brain began to make the obvious connections.

"How did you get downstairs and back up again without leaving prints?" It came out too squeaky to be much of a demand.

Will's brow crumpled up. "I slid down the stair rails?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Uuuuuummmm . . ."

"Okay, then did you slide up them too?" One glance at the busted railings covered in dust and splinters showed how unlikely that was. "Fine. If you're not going to be honest . . ."

I hurried down the rest of the stairs, but when I grabbed the door, it wouldn't open. As I gave it a good kick, I couldn't help thinking the theater doors had it in for me.

"You might as well come back up. The door could be jammed for hours." Will sat down on the top stair and crossed his legs.

"That's kidnapping. I'm going to call the police." I shoved my hand into my pocket, but left it inside. From this distance, it'd be pretty obvious I held a mummified rodent paw instead of a phone.

"I'll just wait 'til you're done." Will stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

My heart did a squeeze-thump of fury. I tried the door and gave it another good kick.

"Please, please, can you please let me out?" I whispered at the door.

Nada and zilch.

I walked back and forth along the glass wall of entrance doors and tried all four of them several times. No luck.

"It's a bit like watching a tiger in a zoo. If the tiger were stubborn and a bit slow to catch on," Will said. "Bored yet?"

I hated to admit defeat so easily. Eventually, I crept slowly back up to the lobby.

He'd stretched out on the carpet, snoring softly like a cat napping in the sunshine. I wasn't sure if I wished I'd never come, or that I'd bought a weapon. Not that I was afraid. Whatever else Will was—and I had a number of theories forming on that—I didn't think he'd hurt me.

He yawned. "If you must know, I got through the door so fast because I'm a magician. There you go. I hope you're satisfied."

I have this practically patented glare that turns my eyeballs into laser beams. Even Andy has a bit of respect for it. I glared it at Will with all my might. "You've had all this time to come up with an excuse and that's the best you have?"

He picked at his jacket while he waited for me to turn off the doom stare. When I didn't, he gave in. "What do you want me to say?"

As I stood there, about ready to a) scream or b) strangle him, something happened. The clouds above the theater moved away in the wind and the fall sun broke through. It flooded the skylight and lit up the lobby, shining straight into my eyes. I lifted my hand to shade them so I could see Will to snarl at him some more. But, I could only stare—the words jammed tight in my throat.

The PhamtomimeWhere stories live. Discover now