Page 144 of Winterfall Destiny

“Besides, my birthday party was enough to deal with,” says Ash and wrinkles his nose.

Andrei forgetting his birthday—or deliberately not telling us—shouldn’t slug me in the stomach this hard. But I’m bothered by more than the missing birthday. Birthdays should be a big deal, a moment in life to celebrate. But does an immortal stop celebrating their birthday? Why do I continue to hold on to my idea that normality could blend with this world? Andrei obviously didn’t care at all.

Although recently disturbed dust covers the foyer, once we walk towards the theatre stalls everything’s shrouded with the untouched past. Mildew spoils the two rows of folding velvet seats that face a narrow stage. Stained burgundy curtains, torn and musty, hang from the walls either side, and another across the stage.

Everywhere looks untouched for years, the smell one of decay but not death.

“Sense anything, Andrei?” asks Tobias.

“Nothing immediate. The First isn’t here though.”

“Thank fuck,” mutters Ash and sets off down the aisle between the two rows of seats. “I can’t sense anyone either.”

“I agree. The place feels empty currently,” adds Tobias. “This helps.”

Andrei turns and tips his head up then points at a mezzanine with an artfully wrought black barrier. “Balcony. If we watch the show, I’m sitting there.” I shove him and he turns to follow Ash. “Please?”

“We check every room we can find,” says Tobias, eyeing Andrei. “Back stage, upstairs, bathrooms, probably a cellar and maybe an attic.”

“Together,” I put in hastily. “No splitting up.”

“That’s what we agreed,” says Jamie.

At Ash’s dinner, we discussed clear plans, as with the catacombs but some emphasis on Andrei not becoming the wild card. Or the wild creature. Whatever he and Tobias spoke about at length, may’ve helped, but my earlier encounter with Andrei reassures me he’s less likely to lose control. His capabilities scare him as much as us and I’ve threatened to bind him with shadows. After a quip that he might enjoy that, Andrei added that he’d rather avoid the pain.

A series of backstage rooms still hold remnants of their pasts, the mirrors unbroken with lightbulbs surrounding the edge and hanging rails with moth-filled clothes. The ghostly aura from the theatre’s façade extends into these rooms, as if the dead perform nightly shows.

“Basement here.” Jamie walked ahead with a witch light guiding his way and stopped at a door opening onto steps. “Storage probably.”

“Hmm. But storage of what,” says Ash.

I eye the darkness as the cool, dead smell grows. “Props I hope.” Why are Andrei and Tobias exchanging looks? “Or not?”

“Something down there’s connected to the supernatural, but not hemia or witches,” says Tobias softly.

“Shifters?” I offer. Ash shakes his head. “Are there heartbeats?”

If I can’t hear any, that’s one positive—nothing to do with the First.

“Faint,” says Andrei. “Let me walk down first.”

The dark cellar engulfs him, and I walk beside Jamie and his witch light, the others behind. Before he follows, Ash hauls a rusted fire extinguisher to prop the door open. Good. If that slammed behind me, I’d change my mind about walking down here.

Jamie discovers a switch at the base of the creaking steps and snuffs out his witch light before flicking on the lights, and a bare bulb reveals the room. The concrete walled space must span half the length of the theatre, colder than the rest of the rooms we’ve explored.

I’ve never taken part in anything theatrical, avoiding school productions once they became optional. I finished my stage days after my role as a star in the nativity play, aged six.

So, I’ve no idea what to expect a theatre to store in a basement, but I’m positive no other theatre stores this.

51

MAEVE

A row of six closed coffins on tables, and over a dozen others stacked four high around the room, like macabre furniture. Some are used as furniture, their surfaces covered with printed paper and pens, and takeaway coffee cups.

“My vision,” I mumble. “This is the place, I swear. They’re arranged the same way and this room… brick and windowless. And the symbol…”

The black symbol that’s repeated through visions.

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