Mara traced the symbol’s edges with her thumb, the grooves still wet from the storm. The tree had been there for decades, its bark thick and knotted, but the carving—this jagged spiral—was new. She glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see someone watching, but the parking lot behind the abandoned library was empty. The air smelled of damp earth and gasoline from the station across the street. Her sneakers squeaked on the asphalt as she stepped back, heart drumming against her ribs.
“You coming?” Jax’s voice cut through the hum of the streetlamp. He stood at the edge of the lot, his backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes flicking to the tree. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead from the rain, and his usual grin was replaced by a frown. “That thing again?”
Mara nodded, brushing dirt from her jeans. “It’s been here three days. I checked every morning.”
“Maybe it’s a prank.” Jax stepped closer, tilting his head. “Some kid with a knife.”
“It’s not a kid.” She pointed to the spiral, its lines precise, too clean to be amateur. “This isn’t random. It’s a code.”
Jax snorted, but his fingers twitched at his sides. He hated codes. Hated puzzles. Hated anything that didn’t hit him in the face. “What makes you think it’s a code?”
“Because I’ve seen it before.” The words escaped before she could stop them. She hadn’t told anyone about the dreams—about the man in the white coat, his hands hovering over a glowing tablet, his voice a low hum in her skull. But Jax had a way of pulling things out of her, like a spider spinning silk until she was tangled up and too dizzy to fight.
“You’re joking,” Jax said, but his voice was quieter now. He stepped closer, peering at the carving. “Where? When?”
“Last week. In the library.” She hesitated, then added, “In the archives.”
Jax’s brow furrowed. The archives were sealed. No one went there unless they worked for the city, and even then, they didn’t stay long. “You sneaked in?”
“I had a key.” The lie tasted sour, but Jax didn’t ask how she’d gotten it. He never did. He just nodded, his gaze drifting to the tree again. “What does it mean?”
Mara opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know. The dreams were fragments—snatches of voices, flashes of light, the feel of something vast and waiting beneath the town. But the symbol was real. And it was here.
“We need to find out,” she said finally.
Jax exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You always say that. And then we end up in some mess.”
“This isn’t a mess.” She met his eyes, willing him to understand. “This is important.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, its beam cutting through the gloom. “Alright. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”
They didn’t speak as they walked toward the library, the rain softening to a drizzle. Mara’s thoughts churned—about the man in the coat, about the tablet, about the way the symbol had felt familiar, like a name she’d forgotten. Jax walked beside her, his steps steady, his silence heavier than words.
The library’s doors were locked, but Mara had expected that. She pressed her palm against the glass, feeling the coolness seep into her skin. The archives were below ground, behind a rusted metal door marked with the same spiral. She’d seen it in the dreams, always there, always waiting.
“You sure about this?” Jax asked, his voice low.
Mara nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
She pulled a key from her pocket—small, silver, with a jagged edge—and slid it into the lock. The door groaned as it gave way, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness. The air that rose to meet them was cold, carrying the scent of old paper and something else, something metallic and sharp.
“This is insane,” Jax muttered, but he followed her down.
The stairs ended in a corridor lined with shelves, their contents wrapped in plastic. At the far end stood a door, its surface etched with the same spiral. Mara approached it slowly, her breath shallow. The moment her fingers brushed the metal, a low hum filled the air, vibrating in her bones.
“What was that?” Jax’s voice was tight.
“I don’t know.” She turned to him, eyes wide. “But it’s real.”
The door creaked open, revealing a room bathed in blue light. Tables lined the walls, each holding a device that pulsed with a soft glow. At the center stood a pedestal, and on it rested a tablet—smooth, black, and humming like a living thing.
Jax sucked in a breath. “What the hell is that?”
Mara didn’t answer. Her gaze was fixed on the tablet, on the way it seemed to pull at her, as if it recognized her. She stepped closer, her hand trembling as she reached out. The moment her fingers touched the surface, a surge of images flooded her—faces, places, a city buried beneath the earth, and a voice that wasn’t her own whispering, *You are not alone.*
“Mara!” Jax’s shout snapped her back. She stumbled, shaking her head, the images fading. The room felt heavier now, the air thick with something unseen.
“We need to go,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Jax hesitated, then nodded. They turned toward the door, but as they reached it, a sound echoed through the corridor—footsteps, slow and deliberate. Mara’s heart pounded. They weren’t alone.
The footsteps grew louder. Jax grabbed her arm, his grip tight. “We should have left when we had the chance.” His voice was steady, but his eyes were wide.
Mara didn’t respond. She could feel it now—the presence behind them, watching, waiting. The tablet had shown her something, but she didn’t know what. All she knew was that they had uncovered a secret someone didn’t want found.
And now, they were in danger.
