The Hidden Door by Liz Botts Page A

to protest that it is too heavy, too dangerous, too...something. But I know how much this means to him. And it means something to me too. We've been searching for this for as long as I can remember. And now we've found it. Justin makes the promise every time we pass the gargoyle's body. I suppose no matter how disturbing this thing is, it deserves to be whole again.
    Lifting the head, Justin finds a small piece of cloth to wrap it in, and we creep back up the stairs. At the door we both hesitate. What if he is out there, The Vampire, waiting for us?
    "We'll stand up to him," Justin says as if reading my mind. "We'll run. Or drop this on his foot."
    I let out a barking laugh despite the tension of the moment. I turn the lock this time, feeling the muscles in my arm burn as I struggle against age and time and rust.
    The door finally swings open, and we step back into the dark courtyard. My senses are disoriented. The damp smell from the basement clings to me and I can still taste dust. My eyes play tricks on me as I stare intently into the shadows looking for any sign of The Vampire.
    Not seeing him anywhere, I whisper, "Let's get this thing back where it belongs."
    "My thoughts exactly," Justin says, his smile has never been bigger.
    How is it possible that we have finally unraveled the mystery of the Hidden Door? My mind boggles. Have we really unraveled anything? Really we just got lucky. If The Vampire hadn't chased us into that courtyard, I never would have felt the doorknob. How has that door been overlooked for so long?
    As we slip across the courtyard toward the better lit area in front of the law library, I am suddenly struck by the proximity to The Hun.
    "This place makes so much sense," I say. Justin gives me a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised, waiting for me to continue. "No, it totally does. Think about it. Those guys that stole the head couldn't replace it. They had already risked way too much taking it."
    "And got cursed in the process," Justin interrupts.
    I roll my eyes. "I don't know about that whole curse business," I say, "but I do know that they didn't want to get caught. And they certainly believed they were cursed. And they couldn't hide it in The Hun because even back in 1927 people would have noticed what was going on there more than any other building on campus."
    "Wasn't the l aw building built in the early T wenties?" Justin asks.
    We are now walking in the reassuring glow of streetlights. Lovely pools of artificially yellow light bathe the sidewalk every few feet. Just being in the circle of light makes me feel stronger, more invincible. The Vampire hides in the shadows, but the light seems to deter him. With the thought of The Vampire, I draw closer to Justin, who leans over midstride to kiss the top of my head. The affectionate gesture makes me blush. We are going to have so much to talk about and deal with tomorrow.
    "I think it was," I say. "Built in like 1922 or something."
    Justin nods thoughtfully. "Makes sense that they were able to access that storage area. I think they moved the law library to its current location sometime around 1927 because it took so long to finish."
    We ponder the thought that we've just learned something else about the guys who took this head. No matter how small the information, we have always felt that it helps complete the puzzle — the b igger picture of what happened.
    â€œI’ve always wondered about those guys,” I admit. “Even when we found out who some of them probably were. I wonder if they thought it was all worth it in the end? Hiding it, creating the legend?”
    â€œI wonder too,” Justin says.
    We get around The Hun with no problems. As we edge into the courtyard containing the gargoyle's body, I think I hear rustling in the bushes opposite us. When no one emerges, I tell myself to relax and follow Justin up to the statue. He uncovers the head, staring into its eyes for a moment then steps forward to balance the head back in