“What do you think?” Jed asked.

“Let’s watch them,” Eli replied.

Although they were constantly coming and going, the number of women in the yard stayed at around three dozen. None of them gazed up at the lifeboat.

“What do you think, Cole?” Eli asked.

“Creepy.”

“I’ll grant you that,” Eli said. “Let’s see if this shakes them up.” He tossed a rope ladder over the side. It unrolled, the end dangling a couple of feet above the surface of the yard.

The women took no notice of it.

“They don’t act too alert,” Eli said. “It might mean there is no predator here. They would make easy prey.”

“They could be the predators,” Jed said. “You never know.”

“Only one way to find out,” Eli said, patting Cole on the shoulder. “You ready?”

No part of Cole felt ready. His heart was pounding and his skin felt clammy. Managing a nod, he put a leg over the side and started down the flimsy ladder.

Chapter 9

SCOUT

The ladder swung and twisted as Cole descended one rung at a time. Holding the flag made the climb tricky. A few rungs from the bottom he paused to study the women. Though not identical, they resembled one another—grayish complexions, neutral expressions, creased faces, bony builds, medium height, hair in buns, faded dresses, dark shawls.

He could find no differences between them and real people, except for their uninterested attitudes. Nobody glanced his way. Nobody paused. Nobody smiled. Instead each woman walked briskly about her business.

Cole stepped down to the bottom rung. He had been warned more than once that trouble tended to happen when you first reached the castle. What if this was it? What if he didn’t make it back? Nobody would ever know what happened to him—not his parents and not his friends. He wondered if Jenna and Dalton believed he would come for them. He wondered if they would forgive him if he never showed up. Wherever they were, he hoped they weren’t on dangerous missions, being used as monster bait.

Taking a deep breath, Cole checked the position of his sword. Keeping one hand on the ladder, he stepped down onto the paving stones of the courtyard.

Every woman immediately stopped. With chilling synchronization, they turned and stared directly at him.

Chills washed across Cole’s shoulders and down his back. Frozen with surreal horror, he stared back.

As the moment stretched out, he wanted to race back up the ladder. But some instinctive part of him worried that as soon as he moved, they would rush him. He didn’t breathe.

One woman bustled toward him, her footfalls noisy in the silent yard. She peered nervously over her shoulder more than once. The others remained still, solemn eyes boring into Cole. The oncoming woman removed her shawl. When she reached him, she wrapped it around his shoulders and fastened it below his neck with a clasp.

As if responding to some invisible signal, the other women turned and continued about their business. One moment he had their full attention, the next he was utterly forgotten.

Remembering the flag in his hand, Cole set it on the ground. It stood upright despite lacking a base.

The woman without her shawl held out a hand to Cole. “This way,” she urged. “We haven’t much time.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Not here,” she said, anxious eyes checking the area. “Indoors.” Her agitation was convincing. Supposedly, she wasn’t alive, but there was nothing phony about her appearance or demeanor. It was in the details—the redness at the corners of her eyes, the faint gloss of sweat on her forehead, the loose skin of her neck, the spots on the back of her hands, the ragged tips of her fingernails.

Cole took her hand and let her lead him away from the ladder. She placed her other arm around his shoulders protectively. Women marched past on either side, going about their errands without a flicker of interest in what was happening around them. But they had to be aware. He had stopped traffic when he first stepped off the ladder.

The woman kept her head down and walked swiftly. It didn’t seem like she meant him any harm. If anything, he thought she was trying to help. But he stayed ready, in case she turned on him.

Cole noticed fossils embedded in the paving stones—mostly leaves, bugs, and fish. As they neared the castle, he saw similar fossils preserved in the wall.

The woman led him to a minor door into the main castle. They entered a corridor and passed another woman on her way out.

“What’s your name?” Cole asked quietly.

“Not yet,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. They moved down the hall, then through a door into a storage room. Releasing him, she shut the door behind them. “Merva.”

“I’m Cole. What’s going on?”

“We have no time. It’s expecting me. We can’t break routine. It must be cleaned. You must come.”

“What’s expecting you? Come where?”

She took his hand again. “Keep near me. Move how I move. Say nothing.”

He resisted her pull. “Wait. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

Her grip tightened, and her face became agonized. “There’s not time. It’ll kill us all!”

Cole let her lead him from the room. She increased her pace to a fast trot. They passed a few other women in dresses and shawls.

This was happening too quickly. Cole had no idea where they were going or what they would face when they got there. He had lost all control of the situation. Merva’s desperation had vanished when they exited the storage room, but the glimpse of her terror had left him even more deeply unnerved. At least nothing had attacked them yet. Maybe Merva knew what she was doing.

He tried to keep an eye out for valuables. The halls were mostly bare. What furniture he saw looked simple.

They started down a dim, winding staircase. Women climbed up from below, passing them without a glance.

The stairs deposited them into a long, cavernous room, comparable to a subway station. A single creature filled the chamber—a nightmarish cross between a centipede and a scorpion. Armored by a glossy black shell, the monster was the size of a train. It had five sets of claws, each pincer larger than a minivan. Hundreds of legs supported the long, segmented body. The gargantuan tail curled up toward the ceiling, a vicious-looking stinger at the tip.

Anchored to rings in the floor, thick chains crisscrossed each segment of its body. Women bustled everywhere, cleaning the creature with rags, mops, brooms, chisels, and sponges.

The sheer scale of the monster left Cole stunned. The busy women looked like insects by comparison. No wonder Merva had worried about making it angry.