Legacies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,58

get there. These are skeleton keys. They’ll fit most locks. They were Daddy Dearest’s. And now—for reasons that don’t need explaining at this juncture—they’re mine.”

Muirin had to try several different keys, but finally one of them turned, and the padlock sprang open. Muirin removed the lock and pushed open the door. It moved silently, but with a ponderousness that made Spirit think it must be heavy. Loch shone the flashlight in through the open door. There was a flight of metal steps leading down into the dark. He flicked the beam around as much as he could. Support beams. Blank walls.

Muirin carefully tucked both the ring of skeleton keys and the open padlock into her pockets. “I’d rather be caught than locked in down there,” she said.

“Yeah,” Loch said shakily.

The three of them walked carefully down the stairs. Muirin came last, pulling the hatchway door closed behind her. When the beam of the flashlight revealed a light switch on one of the nearer pillars, she skipped over to it and switched it on.

“Hey!” Loch protested.

Strings of bare bulbs strung from an overhanging wire illuminated the room. Series of rooms, actually: this one was large, but Spirit could see doorways leading off of it. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all poured concrete.

“We’re in the secret sub-subbasement, which—you may have noticed—doesn’t have any windows, and if they find us here, we’re toast anyway,” Muirin said. She looked around, her expression thoughtful. “Somebody’s Earth Gift got a workout, I’d say.”

“Or something,” Loch said, conceding her point. “This way.”

The fact that there was a secret sub-subbasement at all was bad enough. Some of the other things they found down here were worse. For instance: There were several small rooms set up as cells. In each, there was a bed, a table and chair, a toilet—and a door with a barred window that locked from the outside.

There was a room that looked as if it must be an operating room, or an infirmary of some kind. There were shelves along the wall to hold some kind of supplies, and a sink, and a bed in the middle with a big lamp over it. The bed had heavy leather straps.

“I guess now we know what happens if you collect too many demerit points,” Muirin said, looking at it, and Spirit could hear the fear beneath the mockery.

“Here we are,” Loch said in relief. “Finally.”

The room was about as large as the Library upstairs. Spirit had gotten completely turned around while they’d been following the trail, but she thought it might even be directly under it. There was a big oak table in the middle of the room—like the ones upstairs but considerably more battered—and along one wall there was rack after rack of rough wooden shelving containing rows of cardboard boxes. Beyond them were rows of file cabinets.

Loch walked unerringly over to one of the boxes and opened it, dropping the little leather case inside. “Nick’s stuff,” he said, making a face. “It’s labeled. They all are.” He walked along the row of boxes, his lips moving silently as he read the labels. “Here’s Camilla’s stuff. And Seth’s. It looks like they’re arranged in chronological order.” He looked at the wall of boxes. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“Why are they keeping all this stuff?” Spirit asked.

“They’re probably planning to ditch it when it’s convenient,” Muirin said. She walked quickly along the row, obviously looking for something. “Maybe they take it all to a big city dump or an incinerator. Someplace where no one will know any of these kids or care about asking questions. Tabitha Johnson and Ryan Miller,” she said in disgust. “Early graduation last June. Not.”

Spirit looked at the wall of boxes and swallowed hard. There were more than twenty names between Ryan and Tabitha—and Seth, Camilla, and Nick. She walked over to stand beside Loch. “How can they do this?” she asked plaintively. “How can they just keep doing this?”

“I don’t know,” Loch said miserably. “It could just be . . . we could just be blowing things up out of proportion. We know why Seth and Camilla and Nick’s stuff is here. Maybe there’s a good reason for everything else. Maybe it’s stuff they didn’t want anymore.” He walked down to where the boxes marked TABITHA JOHNSON were and lifted one down, bringing it over to the table. He lifted off the lid.

The first thing Spirit saw was a raggedy sweater in Oakhurst gold. Loch lifted