Page 75 of In the Garden of Monsters

“I have thought about that,” I admitted. Why had I gravitated so much toward the myths? “It is alarmingly coincidental.”

Lillian furrowed her brow. “According to mythology, Ceres didn’t want Proserpina to go to the Underworld, right? So, if you somehow are Proserpina, why would she want to hurt you? You’re already in the Overworld. I think we should explore theboschettoand find her statue. She may be the key to figuring all this out. Paolo, what did that journal say about the secret passage?”

“Non tanto,”he said.Not much.“Giulia Orsini was the one who convinced her husband to put it in. She suggested it as an escape route in case bandits ever stormed the castle.”

Lillian put her hand on the doorknob. “I want to find out what that green glow is and why it beats in tune with your heart, Julia. This is our last chance to get to the bottom of this. Paolo, meet us in the library in a little bit? Make sure no one sees you.”

He gave her a brilliant smile.“Certo, signorina.”

We left Paolo to return to my room. As I touched the doorknob, the ghostly whisper was suddenly strong in my mind.Julia, beware...

Aside from the whisper, my conversation with Dalí weighed on me. It was a warning, a serious one.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Lily,” I said once we shut the door behind us.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be with Paolo and me. And it’s just as I was saying. You’ve had some bizarre encounters, but you haven’t been hurt yet, right?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“We’ll tread carefully, watch each other’s back. If anyone wants to get to you, they’ll have to go through me first.” She tossed me a pair of her trousers to wear, which were much more suitable than the dresses I had brought with me.

“All right, tough guy. I’ll hold you to that.” As I pulled on the trousers, the fabric cold against my skin, a sense of resolve began to build within me. Perhaps Lillian was right—I hadn’t been hurt yet. Maybe I just needed to confront these fears.

Paolo waited for us in the library. The lights were off, but the full moon illuminated the room. He handed Lillian a flashlight.

My earlier resolve wavered. “Do we really need to do this?” I asked as Lillian pushed the golden arrow to open the hidden door.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Jules, this is a secret passage in a castle. Of course we do! This is a childhood dream come true.”

“I’m not sure if it’s a dream or a nightmare,” I muttered.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise,” she said, giving me a little hug. Then she turned her flashlight on and began to descend into the tunnel.

The stairs were dry and solid, carved directly out of the mountain’s rock. At one point, I started to count them, but after I hit five hundred, I stopped because of the growing dread of having to climb them after we ended our folly. Sound in the long, dark hallway was strange and muted, and it was easy to hear the person behind you, but not so easy to hear the person in front of you. It was quite dark, even with the flashlights. I would have given anything to light up the torches in the holders we passed, but we had nothing to light them with.

Eventually, we reached a heavy bronze door, green with age. Paolo lifted the thick wooden beam securing the door and set it aside. With considerable effort, he pulled the door inward, its terrible screech echoing as it scraped against the stone floor.

“I’m sure it was quieter long ago,” Paolo said. “After four hundred years we should be grateful it opens at all.”

The sound of rushing water indicated we were near the stream along the wood’s south side. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.

The door was behind some thick overgrowth, and it took us a good ten minutes to clear a route through the bushes. The wood beyond was bathed in pale moonlight. The path took us along the bank of the stream, and then we were at the location where we crossed over on the wobbly boards to enter and leave the wood. Lillian lit the way across. The familiar feeling that I had stepped from one world into another hit me, hard, an invisible curtain that brushed across my body as I crossed the stream into theboschetto.

“We shouldn’t be here,” I said when I reached Lillian on the other side.

“Oh, come on, Jules. We came all this way.”

“‘All this way’ is only about a quarter of a mile, you realize,” I pointed out. “This place is creepy enough during the day. I’d rather wander around in a cemetery than be here at night.”

“We’re already here. We can’t go back now.” She was down the trail before I could argue further.

We traipsed along the path toward the monstrous statues. The terrain was rough enough during the day, but at night, it was far more treacherous with less light. I kept my head down to better traverse the occasional jutting rock and the tree roots snaking across the path. As we neared, I lifted my head toward the giant. Its face was bright in the moonlight, stone eyes determined.

I took a step forward but stopped in my tracks when I thought I saw the giant’s eyes blink. I gasped. It blinked at me again.

“What is it?” Lillian asked.

“I...I...” I froze, pointing at the statue, unable to find the words to explain what I had seen. How could I tell them that I thought the figure was alive? At that moment, it appeared to be just a cold rock, its eyes lifeless.

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