The ancient walls of the basement were fashioned out of stone. On the far side of the room, part of the wall had collapsed to reveal a tunnel sloping away into darkness. Pigeon led the way with Diego, followed by Nate, followed by the spiders, followed by the Fuse. The air smelled so richly of dirt and stone that Pigeon could almost taste it.
“No heroics, Diego,” Nate murmured. “We know how it ends if you try anything.”
“I hear you,” Diego said.
“Stop gabbing,” Wyatt demanded from behind them.
The air grew more chilly the deeper they descended. Denny called from up ahead, “Who is that?”
“Wyatt,” the Fuse responded. “I caught Nate and Pigeon.”
“We can see the magic water,” Denny said. “Mauricio died when he entered the room. He turned into a pile of bones. Eric went in and became an old man. He can’t walk. Kyle’s already old from opening the door—I think the room would age him into bones like Mauricio. Mrs. White warned that strange things might happen to us, but promised she could fix whatever happened once she had the magic water. That’s the truth, right?”
“Right,” Wyatt said.
Pigeon rounded a bend in the tunnel and Denny came into view, holding a small flashlight. An elderly version of Eric lay beyond a stone doorway beside a rotted pile of human bones. Kyle leaned against the wall, breathing erratically. He looked too old to be standing.
“We’ll send in one of these two next,” Wyatt said. “You’ve done well so far, Denny.”
“I’ll go,” Nate said.
Pigeon wanted to make a similar offer, but the words were stuck in his mouth. He wrung his hands. “I can do it,” he managed in a small voice.
Nate shot Pigeon an insistent look. The look conveyed a desperate need to be the one who went into the room, something more than heroism. Pigeon realized Nate might have a plan. “I’m more responsible for starting this whole mess,” Nate said. “I want to finish it, not Pigeon. Besides, the dog might not react well if Pigeon goes in there.”
“If you’re volunteering, you’re more than welcome,” Wyatt said. “Just don’t try to get smart.” The Fuse held a rose up to Nate’s neck and mumbled a chant. His birthmark brightened and spread more, covering almost all of his face. The stem of the rose elongated and snaked around Nate’s neck, sharp thorns needling his skin. “If you attempt to drink the water, I’ll finish you before it touches your lips.” The Fuse intoned more soft words, and the webbing binding Nate’s arms to his torso dissolved. “Do this right, and maybe Mrs. White will show mercy after she regains her youth.”
“I won’t be holding my breath,” Nate said.
Pigeon peered through the doorway. The room was bare save for a black stone pedestal on the far side. Atop the pedestal rested an ornate golden goblet set with glittering gemstones. There was nowhere to hide. Pigeon could not foresee what Nate might have in mind.
“See you, Pidge,” Nate said, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. Nate kicked off his shoes. Scowling, Nate rubbed his eyebrows. Pigeon thought they suddenly looked singed. Nate touched his elbow, getting blood on his fingertips.
“Get a move on,” Wyatt demanded.
Nate paused a moment longer, as if bracing himself, then strode forward. The instant Nate stepped into the room, he started growing taller and withering. Loose clothes became much too tight, the sleeves and pant legs much too short. Liver spots appeared on his wrinkled hands. His hair thinned and became a silvery white. He hunched forward, walking with a stoop. At least he could still walk.
Nate looked back, the thorny collar snug around his wrinkled neck. Pigeon could hardly recognize his friend. His face was longer, his nose bigger and droopier, his eyebrows bushier. Limp folds dangled below his chin, and deep creases marred his face. But the eyes were Nate’s, and the smile.
“I always hoped to grow old gracefully,” Nate chuckled, his voice deeper and more fragile.
“Get the water,” Wyatt demanded.
Diego whined. Pigeon crouched beside the dog.
Nate shuffled toward the pedestal, taking small, cautious steps. Upon arriving at the pedestal, he hovered over the goblet for a moment, as if staring into it.
“Hurry up,” Wyatt ordered.
Nate picked up the goblet and turned around, shuffling back over to them. Pigeon kept waiting for the trick. As he neared the doorway, Nate put a hand to his head and swayed. Steadying himself, he stepped through the doorway and handed the goblet to Denny.
“Well done, let’s get out of here,” Wyatt said.
Pigeon stared at Nate, watching for a sign, straining to guess what Nate expected from him.
“I’m not feeling so well,” Nate said, massaging his temples.
“Pull Eric out here,” Wyatt commanded.
Nodding, Nate crouched, grabbed Eric’s shriveled legs, and dragged him out of the treasure room. Then Nate sat down and buried his face in his hands.
“Get up!” Wyatt barked.
Nate turned translucent, became blurry, and vanished. The thorny stem fell to the ground. Diego barked.
“What happened?” Denny asked.
“Must have been a curse,” Pigeon said.
Denny looked uncertainly at the jeweled goblet.
“Doesn’t matter,” Wyatt said, crouching to pick up Eric. “We need to get back.”
Pigeon glanced at the goblet. It was so close! Nate had warned that spilling it would do no good. Maybe Nate had thought of a trick to pull now that his selves had reunited. Or maybe he had no plan, and was simply being heroic.
The Fuse raised his hands palms outward and chanted briefly. The three black widows shrank down to their original tiny statures. Wyatt stomped on them.
“Don’t get any ideas, Pigeon boy,” Wyatt said. “This is over. Don’t make me do unnecessary violence to you or your mutt. Come on.”
Pigeon followed him away from the treasure room.
*****
Nate number two stood at a window inside the antique store across from the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream and Candy Shoppe. He kept waiting to see Mauricio or Wyatt leave along with Denny, Eric, and Kyle, but a lot of time had passed, and he began to fret that he had missed their departure.
A Closed sign hung in the candy shop window. Nate had watched a steady stream of people approach the shop, jiggle the door, peer through the glass, and turn away in disappointment.
Before taking up his position inside the antique store, Nate had confirmed that the back door of the antique store was locked. He had circled the candy shop, furtively searching for an unlocked window and finding none. He knew that spells protected the candy shop from unauthorized intruders, so he had saved a direct assault as a last resort.