Read Dance of the Red Death (Masque of the Red Death) for Free Online Page B

moment before following him. Only one door in the hallway is open, the one leading to an abandoned bedroom.
    “Did you keep him locked in here?” I ask Will, but don’t cross the threshold.
    “In the closet,” he says. “Otherwise he could have escaped.” He gestures to the window. He obviously doesn’t want to talk, and now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say to him.
    A cricket scuttles onto the toe of my right shoe. I jump back, stopping only when I hit the door across the hallway. My hand knocks against the doorknob, but it doesn’t even jiggle. It’s locked. If the prisoner wasn’t kept in one of these rooms, why are they locked? Would a family, abandoning their home, lock doors inside it?
    Curious, and seeking a reason to pause here with Will, I walk the entire corridor, trying every door. Those on the right are locked. The left are open. The crickets are everywhere now, creeping through the darkness. Spiders spin elaborate webs in the corners. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are mice in the walls, and if there are mice there are probably snakes. I repress a shudder.
    I push hard against one of the locked doors, but it doesn’t give even slightly.
    “The one at the end of the corridor is loose,” Will says. He’s right. The lock does wobble. But it’s intact, so none of my companions must have been interested enough to break it.
    I hit the door with my good side, but even so, pain radiates across my back. I gasp and lean against the wall while the pain subsides. Will just watches.
    “Well,” I say, “are you going to help?” I can’t understand why none of them have investigated this mystery. Anything could be hidden behind a locked door.
    “Araby!” April calls from upstairs. “Hurry, we’re leaving!”
    “Don’t forget this,” Will says, handing me Father’s journal.
    “Thank you.” I straighten up and give the door one last kick. “I’ll want to share it with Elliott.”
    Neither of us says anything more while we gather our gear and climb to the roof.
    As soon as we emerge, I’m immediately covered with dew, or what passes for dew in the thick humidity of a swamp. The precipitation is visible on my arms, gleaming in the weak morning sun.
    A drop runs the length of my dress and falls to the blue-gray slate tile.
    April is waiting. She gives Will a quick, disgusted look, and then ignores him, leaning against me. “Thank God we’re leaving. I hate the swamp.”
    He disappears, walking around the ship, leaving us alone.
    April and I haven’t had any time to talk. Part of me longs to discuss the pain of what happened with Will. Perhaps she could help me make sense of it. Perhaps she could unravel what’s happening between me and Elliott, how our fake romance seems to be turning into something very real. And maybe she could tell me about that secret half smile that she can’t quite hide whenever Kent is near.
    She leads me to the deck of the airship and right to Kent. I’m surprised that he isn’t scurrying around the ship, double-checking everything.
    “How is Will?” he asks.
    “His lip is bloody,” I say, though I know it isn’t what he’s asking. Kent looks at me, and I can see that he understands. We are, both of us, throwing in our lot with Elliott. For the good of the city. And for April.
    “Your father was my hero,” Kent says. “ Is my hero. Since I was a boy.”
    He wants me to tell him that the rumors are lies. I want him to say the same to me. Instead, neither of us says anything. We stare out over the destroyed landscape. The swamp has enveloped everything. The last remnants of a rose arbor are decaying even as I watch.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kent says finally.
    I cast a sharp look at him, and he seems completely serious. What more does he see through his corrective lenses? April takes his hand.
    “Elliott has been helping me with my inventions for years, since we met as boys. And Will is my closest friend,” Kent says finally.
    The way he’s