The rich hot chocolate suddenly felt like a lead weight in Niles’s stomach. Garrett’s words had shifted something fundamental. The school wasn’t the origin point; it was a reaction. A response to the stone.
He waited until Garrett was down the bar before he approached, leaning against the polished wood. “Garrett? That ‘old house’ you mentioned. The stories about the school.”
The bartender finished wiping a glass and set it down, turning his full attention to Niles. His kind eyes were now sharp, assessing.
“Aye. Stories.”
“What about the stone?” Niles asked, his heart hammering. “The warm one in the courtyard. What do the stories say about it?”
Garrett’s bushy eyebrows drew together. He looked past Niles for a moment. Niles' gaze drifted to a small, framed photograph on the back shelf. It was a faded picture of a younger Garrett, his strong arm wrapping around a smaller man with wild hair and intense eyes—Mr. Henderson. They looked like old friends, comrades.
Garrett’s gaze followed Niles' gaze to the photo. His gaze immediately snapped back, he then positioned himself so that his body blocked the sight of the photo.
“The warm rock? That’s one of the oldest tales,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “The story goes that the rock was there first. Just a strange, warm spot on the mountain. Then the Blackwood Trust came. They didn’t build the school near the rock, son. They built it around the rock. Made that stone the centre piece of the whole damned place.”
Niles felt a jolt. The portfolio’s diagram flashed in his mind—the tunnels all leading to the Heart. The Weeping Stone was the “Primary Conduit.” It wasn’t just a feature; it was the source. The school was a containment facility built to harness it.
“And the rumours?” Niles pressed further. “You said the stone is connected to the school.”
Garrett nodded, his expression grim. “Aye. Folks say the school… feeds it. Or it feeds the school. Never been clear. But kids who go up there, the real bright ones, the odd ones… they sometimes come back changed. Quieter. Hollowed out. Like a part of them got left behind on that mountain.”
He gave Niles a long, hard look that seemed to see right through him. “You look like one of the odd ones. The special ones. Be careful what parts of yourself you leave up there.”
He straightened up, the moment of confidence over. “Now, finish your cocoa. Best not to linger in the dark for too long.”
Niles returned to the booth quietly, his mind reeling. He’d seen the photo. Garrett knew Mr. Henderson. Perhaps Mr. Henderson had very likely spoken of a special, odd student—him. And Garrett, loyal and cautious, had just given him a warning without betraying his old friend.
Niles relayed the conversation in a hushed torrent, leaving out the photo. That was a secret he’d keep, for Mr. Henderson’s sake and Garrett’s.
“The stone came first,” Niles concluded, his eyes alight with a terrifying clarity. “The school is the machinery built to exploit it. And we’re not the fuel, not exactly. We’re the catalysts. Our unique minds… they don’t power the Heart. They activate whatever inside the stone. They make the reaction possible. ‘Absolution’ is what’s left when the reaction is complete.”
The pieces were locking into place with a horrifying finality. They weren’t just batteries to be drained. They were keys, being used to turn a lock on a door that should never be opened. And they had just volunteered to stay over the holidays, alone in the factory, with the men who controlled the machinery.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.