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He sped back toward her, his eyes wide. “Nothing.”
Paige’s shoulders slumped. “Are you kidding me? No exit?”
“Nope,” Dewey said.
Paige heaved a sigh. “So we came all the way out here for nothing. No mirror. Not even a hint of a mirror, despite the werewolf activity. Nothing.”
Dewey swung the flashlight beam around the room again, his lips pressed together. “We must be missing something.”
“Yeah, a mirror and an incantation,” Paige retorted with a huff.
Dewey narrowed his eyes as he swept the beam across the room again. He focused it on the stone altar in the center, flying toward it.
Paige wrinkled her nose as she recalled the large bloodstain at the head of the flat slab.
Across the room, Dewey lowered the beam toward the floor. He leaned forward, still hovering in the air, and traced his finger along the stones.
Paige puckered her lips as she strode over, her arms crossed over her chest. “What is it?”
“This looks odd to me.” Dewey aimed the light at the floor and motioned for Paige to look.
She crouched and studied the spot. “Looks like a break in the stone to me.”
“No, look at the size of all the other stones making up the floor,” Dewey said with a shake of his head.
She crinkled her forehead as she glanced around.
“What shape are all the others?” Dewey pressed.
“Rectangle,” Paige answered.
“Right. And what shape is this one?” He aimed the flashlight at the stone in question.
“Square,” Paige answered and shot a glance to Dewey. “You think that means something.”
“I think,” Dewey said, flying underneath the altar and pointing the flashlight at the underside, “that it’s covering a secret passage.”
Paige ran her fingers around the edge, trying to dig up the stone. She couldn’t budge it.
She stood and shook the dust from her hands as she circled the altar. “Do you think it’s on the altar?”
“I’d bet it is,” Dewey said, still searching the underside.
Paige stared down at the large bloodstain on the gray stone, her lips forming a grimace. She tugged her cell phone from her pocket and turned on the light, shining it underneath the stone slab where the bloodstain lay.
“Here,” she called.
Dewey raced toward her and shined the big flashlight’s beam at the stone.
“A skull!” he said.
“Yep, as creepy as the blood. And I’ll bet if we press it, that stone will open.” Paige toggled off her cell phone’s flashlight and shoved the phone into her pocket before reaching for the carving.
She shot a glance at Dewey. “Ready?”
He nodded, training his beam on the square floor tile. “Push it, Paige.”
Paige’s fingertips caressed the cool stone slab. The rough edges of the carved skull scraped against her soft skin. She blew out a long breath, hoping the stone didn’t trigger a trap of some kind. With a lick of her lips, she pushed upward, depressing the tile on the underside of the altar.
