Chapter Seventeen: The Empty Grave
992 Words
A chill wind blew across Ashmoor Cemetery.
Rowan stared at the weathered grave marker etched with nothing more than a raven.
“No.” She whispered. “That can’t be your grave.”
Elias remained silent.
Slowly, he knelt before the headstone. His ghostly fingers hovered inches above the cold stone.
“I’ve never been here before.”
“You said you knew it was yours.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Elias closed his eyes.
“Because…I carved that raven.”
Rowan frowned.
“Before you died.”
---
Mrs. Holloway appeared beside them. White as a ghost.
“This grave has never been empty.”
“You knew?” Rowan asked.
“I knew since I was a little girl.”
“My grandmother told me never to mess with it.”
“Why?” Elias asked.
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
Rowan looked down at the headstone again. This time she saw it.
There was no name.
No birth date.
No death date.
Only a raven.
And beneath it, almost obscured by decades of moss, were three words.
Remember the truth.
---
Instinctively, Rowan brushed the moss aside.
The ground shook.
The raven etched into the stone began to glow with a pale silver light.
The compass in Rowan’s pocket spun wildly before swinging back to a stop, pointing directly at the grave.
“It’s here,” she whispered.
“The Third Key.”
The earth shattered.
Not explosively.
More gently.
A narrow staircase made of stone rose slowly from beside the grave, stretching down into the earth beneath the cemetery.
Elias turned to Rowan.
“There was more to Ashmoor than just this house.”
“A prison.”
---
The staircase descended into a large circular crypt Rowan didn’t think possible.
Rows upon rows of alcoves lined the wall, each one holding an empty coffin.
Except one.
In the center of the room, resting atop a pedestal of black marble covered in silver ivy was a coffin unlike the others.
There was no dust coating it.
It seemed…waiting.
Standing at its head was a single pedestal.
On it lay a small silver locket.
Not a key.
A locket.
Rowan picked it up.
Immediately she knew it was warm.
When she opened it two small portraits faced her.
One was Elias.
The other…
Clara.
On the lid was inscribed another message.
Our souls remember, even when our minds forget.
---
Elias chuckled softly.
“I gave her this locket.”
“You remember?” Rowan asked.
He nodded.
“But now.”
Memories flooded back into Elias’ eyes.
“I asked Clara to meet me at the bell tower.”
“To leave Ashmoor together.”
“What happened?” Rowan asked.
His smile faded.
“Someone betrayed us.”
---
Before Rowan could question who, the black marble coffin slowly slid open.
None of them moved to touch it.
The lid slid aside with no one behind it.
Inside…
Was nothing.
Only a bundle of old letters tied together with a faded blue ribbon.
On top of them sat another crystal.
Different from the others, this crystal glowed gold.
Words materialized on the pedestal beneath as Rowan lifted it.
THE THIRD KEY IS TRUTH.
Mrs. Holloway gasped.
“The keys are not objects…”
“What?” Elias asked.
“They are virtues.”
“The silver key was…”
Promise.
“The crystal key.” Rowan cut in. “Was Truth.”
Rowan frowned.
“But we found a crystal key.”
Mrs. Holloway shook her head.
“No. We found a way to unlock Truth.”
---
Suddenly every candle in the crypt snuffed out.
A slow clap sounded throughout the darkness.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The hooded man stepped forward out of the shadows.
Rowan noticed something about him now that she hadn’t seen before.
He didn’t cast a shadow.
“You have done well,” he said softly. “Far better than the others.”
Rowan stepped protectively in front of the pedestal.
“We’re not giving you anything.” She hissed.
“I don’t want the key.” He said calmly.
“What do you want from us?”
He looked at Elias.
“I want him to remember.”
---
The hooded man raised one gloved hand.
The gold crystal flared up with blinding light.
Elias stumbled backward away from it.
“No…” He whispered.
Images flickered around the crypt faster than any they had seen before.
The bell tower.
The library.
The cliff.
The g*n.
Clara’s terrified scream.
Vivian crying.
Arthur dropping to his knees.
Then…
One final memory.
Elias himself…
Pressing the revolver to his own head.
“No…” Elias whispered again.
His hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
“I…” Tears filled his eyes.
“I shot him.”
Everything stopped.
Rowan stared at Elias, slack-jawed.
“You what?”
“I remember…”
His voice broke.
“I shot…” He looked down at his hands, shaking.
“Me.”
The hooded man smiled a sad smile.
“That is what you wanted to forget. Now you remember the greatest lie of them all.”
Before anyone could say another word, the crypt began collapsing around them.
Stones from the ceiling began raining down.
The hooded man backed away into the shadows.
“You have three keys.”
“You need four before the next full moon.”
“Or the Heart will cease to exist.”
He disappeared into the darkness.
The ground shook wildly beneath them.
Elias stared up at Rowan, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I never told you…”
“What?” Rowan asked.
“I…” He took a deep breath. “I chose to die.”
Above them, the ceiling suddenly burst open.
Light flooded the ancient crypt.
Somewhere outside…
Ashmoor House let out a giant groan. Like the house itself had reacted to Elias’ admission.
- Writer
