“It holds us tightly.”
This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had no idea what barrier they were talking about, but Naomi was my first priority. “Is Naomi in the … House of Death with us?” I asked. “Can you lead me to her?”
“Crypts … crypts … crypts.”
“Are all the crypts connected?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Just underground.”
“Beneath the soil.”
They continued to usher me forward, their ghost fingers tickling my skin. Grainy outlines made maneuvering possible, but having the invisible guides made it much easier. “Are we moving toward Naomi?”
“Yes.”
“We will take you.”
“For a price.”
That wasn’t surprising. Everything had a price.
The tunnel changed course while I ran. They prodded me in the right direction each time I hit a roadblock—I hoped. I really had no idea. They could be leading me to someplace terrible and I’d be none the wiser. “Are we almost there?” Before they could answer, I spotted a wooden door up ahead. It was old and corroded, set into the earth on an iron frame, anchored by ancient timbers. It must be a way up to one of the crypts aboveground.
I slid to a stop.
“No, no,” a breathy voice said so close to my face I flinched. “That is not the one.”
“Mustn’t go up there.”
“He should not wake.”
“Danger to us all.”
“I take it this is the wrong door?” I said sarcastically. “You guys need to pick up the pace. My team is looking for me. I need to find my friends. Can’t we just head through here”—I gestured to the old door—“and take a more direct route through the cemetery?” Being underground was beginning to take its toll. It was so dark and dank it was messing with my state of mind.
“No. Can’t go.”
“Bad man.” A child’s voice began to whimper.
“He will harm us.”
My sarcasm was clearly lost on the incorporeal. “If this is not the right door, you need to show me where the right one is, and after I free my friend, I will try to … break the barrier you keep chattering about.” Maybe if the barrier went down, I could finally talk to my Pack.
“Yes. The barrier must come down.”
“Freedom.”
“We will show you the way.”
I started to run once again. Two more turns and several doors later the hands guided me to a stop. This door was the most detailed one I’d seen. It also appeared to be well used. It was decorated with ghoulish pictures of graveyard bandits, with masks and shovels, digging up graves. If I had to guess, this must be one of the main torture chambers. “If she’s not okay, I am going to seriously hurt someone,” I murmured to myself.
“Asleep.”
“Sleep of the dead.”
“Not much time left.”