Read Online Gallows at Twilight by William Hussey - Free Book Online Page B

feeler, flipped and somersaulted until he no longer had any sense of up and down. By Rachel’s cries he knew that, although they were separated, she was still close by.
    A blast of warm air parched Jake’s face. His eyes narrowed into slits. Up ahead he could make out a tiny oval of light, like a golden teardrop. The glare almost blinded him, but he managed to take in a few brief glimpses of his surroundings. For the first time he could see the fibrous green tentacles lashed around his wrists and ankles. Passing Jake between them, these strange arms drew him faster and faster towards the oval doorway. Just before he reached the opening, he managed to glance back and see the space through which he had been propelled. Below lay a pit, like a colossal well bored out of the earth. It could not be bottomless because Jake could make out faint white shapes writhing far below. He did not want to think about what these creatures might be. Looking up, he saw an arched ceiling soar overhead, like the roof of the tunnel, only a thousand times larger. Growing between the bricks that made up the ceiling were millions of trailing vines—an upside-down forest of rustling, restless tentacles.
    Jake and Rachel were thrust through the oval doorway and into the honeyed world beyond. They tumbled over a hard stone floor and finally came to a stop.
    ‘Are-you-OK?’ Jake panted, helping Rachel to her feet.
    ‘Bruised, battered, scared half to death, but I guess I’ll live.’ Rachel raked fingers through her tousled hair. ‘Jake, what is this place?’
    For a moment, they stood in awed silence. At their backs was the teardrop doorway; in front of them, an open square the size of a small airfield. It was paved with rough sandstone slabs that blazed in the light of a Mediterranean dawn. Built from the same yellow stone, narrow arcades supported by big Roman columns ran around all four sides of the square. At the centre, water bubbled from the spout of a silver fountain. It’s a piazza, Jake thought, typical of the grand squares that he and his father had seen on their trip to Italy last year.
    A desert breeze chased around Jake’s legs and threw grit into his eyes. Small drifts of sand covered the steps all around the piazza. Jake squinted at the huge red sun beating down from a purple-tinged sky, and thought, We’re not in Kansas any more, Toto.
    ‘Come on, you two!’
    Pandora’s command bounced between the crumbling columns. Jake could just make out the eight-armed woman on the far side of the square. He took a deep breath and they set off again.
    The sun was relentless. By the time they had reached the fountain, they were forced to rest.
    ‘Let’s continue down one of the arcades,’ Rachel said. ‘Stick to the shade.’
    They scooped handfuls of deliciously cool water from the bowl of the fountain, and were about to set off again when Jake paused. He took a step back and stared at the fountain. The design was simple—a silver cup expanded to the size of a bathtub had been perched on a plinth a metre or so off the ground. Water gushed from a spout at the centre and filled the cup to the brim. The sunlight shimmering off the silver blinded Jake while the tinkle of water ran like music in his ears.
    ‘Jake?’ Rachel tugged at his sleeve. ‘What is it?’
    He fell back onto the hard stone floor, water still jewelling his lips.
    ‘Jake? Can you hear me? Are you all right?’
    His eyes stayed fixed on the fountain.
    The words came to him like the lyrics of a half-remembered song:
    ‘Nightfall’s Cup.’

Chapter 7

The Ghost of the Grimoire

    Despite the heat, Rachel shivered. Something about those words …
    ‘Nightfall’s Cup,’ she echoed.
    Jake got to his feet, dusted his knees. ‘Sorry?’
    ‘You said “Nightfall’s Cup”. What does it mean?’
    The ghost of a memory pinched at Jake’s face. He looked suddenly much older. And then, just as suddenly, his features cleared.
    ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,