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Footsteps behind him suggested Declan and Ethan followed too.
Tia stepped down onto a stone floor and splashed her light around the room. A tunnel, narrow, stone walls, low ceiling, with vaults built into the sides. Most of them remained empty, but a few held burial urns and other trinkets. The place harbored a chill different from the soggy air outside. It swept into Doyle’s bones, his cells.
“This is creepy,” he said.
“Yeah,” Tia whispered and glanced back at him.
“You really think the kids would come down here?” Declan said behind him.
A few burned-out wax candles sat in sconces affixed to the walls. And as they ventured deeper, crucifixes hung on the stone caskets sealed into the walls.
“My sister used to hang out in our cellar—our cook stored apples down there, and she’d sneak in and eat them,” Tia said. “I realize it’s not the same as a crypt, but maybe the kids thought it would be an adventure.”
“The monks must have kept the place up while they lived here,” said Ethan. “It’s in better shape than some of the crypts I’ve seen in Europe. No skulls or bones.”
“That’s a cheerful thought, Pine,” Declan said.
“Where are the kids?” Tia said. “I would have expected them near the entrance?—”
“Unless they gave up trying to move the door and went searching for a way out.” Doyle put a hand on her shoulder. “Look at the ground.”
She pointed her light down to see footprints in the dust. Her glance back at him held hope.
“Gabriella! Rohan! Jaden!” Her voice lifted, but the catacombs devoured it.
“Keep moving,” Ethan said. “Usually the tunnels lead to a main chamber under the church. It’s possible the kids made it there and are trying to get out via the sacristy.”
Tia pushed away an ancient, low-hanging curtain of dust, and Doyle put a hand over his nose. More vaults, these sealed with coffins bearing inscriptions. Late eighteen hundreds, but as they walked, he found the dates receding in time.
“Early eighteen hundreds, and this name readsEsperanza, so it could be one of the early mayors of the town.” This from Ethan, who ran his flashlight across the tombs. “We’re getting closer to the time of Henry van der Meer.”
“We’re not here for the treasure,” Tia snapped.
They had turned south, down another corridor, and in his thoughts, Doyle mapped out their location. He guessed they were under the courtyard.
“I see a light—Gabriella! Rohan!” Tia’s voice echoed down the tunnel. Dust shifted off the ceiling, and Doyle looked back to see Declan ducking.
Hard to be the tallest guy in the room.
And it made him suddenly wonder if anyone had heard from Stein. Austen hadn’t seemed worried, but...
“Here!” A voice emerged from the distance. “Here!”
“Gabriella!” Tia took off jogging, and Doyle kept up. The light bounced off more vaults along the tunnel and then burst into a large chamber.
Gabriella stood, her arms around herself, her face reddened, clearly from tears. She launched herself at Tia, sobbing.
Rohan pushed himself up from where he’d been sitting on the ground, his eyes reddened. Jaden wiped his hands down his face, leaving grimy streaks.
“Hey, guys,” Doyle said. “Anybody hurt?”
Jaden shook his head, and Doyle walked over to Rohan, put his hand behind his neck, met his eyes. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. D,” Rohan said. “This was my idea.” He ran his hand across his face. “Stupid.And then we got in and our flashlight died, and when we found our way back, the door was locked...”
“We thought we were going to die down here,” Gabriella said, her voice broken.
“Shh,” Tia said, putting down her flashlight and holding Gabriella’s face. “You’re found. You’re safe.”