The Ruby Locket by Anita Higman, Hillary McMullen Page B

letting his steely guard down. “Thanks.”
                  Feeling that our tentative friendship was partially restored, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the sailboat I’d found in the catacombs. “I’ve been wanting to show this to you, but I haven’t had the chance.” As Wyatt took it from me, I said, “Check out the writing between the sails.”
                  He angled the boat in his hands. When he saw Ivan’s name, his eyebrows shot up. “Where did you find this?”
                  “Down in the catacombs. In that creepy room. At first I thought it was just a random toy, but then I saw the name.”
                  “And you said the room was full of weird markings?”
                  I nodded. “Yeah. Pretty disturbing.”
                  Wyatt stood and shoved aside the half-polished punch bowl. “We need to go down there. Maybe we can find out something about Ivan’s past.”
                  I swallowed. “ We ?”
                  He handed the sailboat back to me. “Well, yeah. The only way in is through the hole in the floor, and we’ll need each other to get back out.”
                  “Why do you want to investigate Ivan’s past?”
                  “I’ve lived here for seven years and that man is still a mystery to me. Let’s just say I’m rabidly curious.” Instead of walking around the long table to get to the door, he vaulted up onto the tabletop and slid across it to the other side, brushing past me. When he reached the doorway, he looked back at me. “Well, come on.”
                  Drawn almost against my will, I stood and walked over to him, like he was some sort of magnet pulling me along. Right as we left the dining room, I caught a fleeting glance of the portrait of Wyatt’s mother. It felt like her eyes were trained on me. There seemed to be a gleaming awareness in them that wasn’t there before.
                  But the strangest thing of all was that the vibrancy of her blue eyes had faded into a dull brown. A chill washed over me as I followed Wyatt down the hall.
                  By the time we reached the boardroom, I’d convinced myself it had just been shadows playing on the wall.
                  We slipped through the hidden entrance to the passageway from the boardroom. When the panel clicked shut behind us, I could almost feel my pupils widening in the total darkness of the passage. Wyatt felt along the wall for the switch and flicked the lights on, the bulbs winking on along the corridor, making a metallic whir.
                  As we made our way toward the hole in the floorboards, I attempted conversation. “So, where do you go to school?”
                  Wyatt shot me an incredulous look, as if he thought we were somehow past mundane chatter. “Private tutors come to the abbey to teach me. I assume Ivan will do the same for you.”
                  “So that’s how you know French?”
                  “Yeah, and some Mandarin and Spanish too.”
                  I gaped. “Whoa. Impressive. Is Ivan preparing you to inherit Belrose Abbey?”
                  “I thought maybe he was. Until he told me he was marrying your mother.” His face held an expression I couldn’t read.
                  I fell silent. I hadn’t even thought of that angle. We’d be dispossessing Wyatt of his role as future master of the abbey. Sweat prickled on my palms. Was it possible that Wyatt was resentful? I barely knew him, after all. Who knew what sort of emotions were seething beneath the surface? Suddenly, exploring the dark catacombs alone with him seemed like a pretty risky move.
                  Before I could decide if I wanted to turn back, we reached the shelving that hung above the spot I’d