Enclosed

Chapter Twenty: Collapse

The sun reached its highest point, radiating down Rose's back. She wiped away the sweat from her forehead as she ventured into town, leaving the Abbey in her wake. She wanted too badly to explore the Abbey and lose herself in its history, but there were many places where Pious' safe house could be. There was no time to waste. The polyjuice potion wouldn't last forever.

Marcus' map narrowed down the safe house's location, but Whitby was a large town. It could take hours to find the right place.

For a midsummer morning, the town was bustling. Tourists darted in and out of colorful stores, excitedly pointing toward their next destinations. Towngoers ran about their business, calling out hellos to strangers, and offering discounts in the shop. Rose almost stopped in to buy a first-edition Dracula. The temptation led her to gaze longingly at the window for a full five minutes before moving on.

Discreetly, Rose followed the map through the town and to the outskirts of town. For over an hour, she trudged along, the misty air clung to her like a second skin, dousing her with a rancid fish smell. The further down the coast she went the fewer houses there were. The small walking path was becoming overgrown with grass and wildflowers. Rose was beginning to think Marcus's map was a trick. Then she saw it. 

Sitting in the crest of a hill was a camouflaged hovel. It was no bigger than her Grandad's garage. The wood was splintering and painted a greenish grey that blended in well with the dry grass. The shack held no windows and the door was hanging on the hinges by a single bolt. The roof sunken in, looking ready to collapse at any moment. 

To any passerby, it was an eyesore and a reason to stay away—the perfect cover for a safe house. 

Rose dropped to the ground, using the tall grass as camouflage before casting a concealment charm. The charm was weak but it would do for now to allow her to investigate closer. She silently cursed herself for not doing this sooner. It was reckless to strut around without any coverage. For all she knew, members of The Reformed could have spotted her coming over a mile away.

Steeling her breath, Rose drew her wand and approached. It looked abandoned, but magic was good for making things appear as they weren't. There were bound to be some sort of protection charms or wards. The Reformed wouldn't be careless enough to leave one of their safehouses unguarded. 

"Reveilo."

The shack shimmered as the spell hit and the deploring shack turned into a steel fortress with a flat roof and darkened windows. Reveilo didn't unlock any alarming surprises. Not that she expected it to. Reveilo was for basic charms like concealment, Muggle-Repelling, and cave inimicum. She needed to be thorough before she approached the shack. 

Rose cast a few more spells before deeming it was safe to approach. 

Cautiously, she slid down the hill and stepped up to the door. "Alohomora." The door automatically squeaked open. The smell that hit her was overwhelming. It was the smell of burnt flesh and dead fish. Rose gagged, plugging her nose. Her eyes immediately started to water. She kept them peeled, her wand pointed ahead ready to attack.

Blinking away the stray tears, Rose entered the safe house. 

It was one large room. No doors except the one she entered through and two windows that were barricaded from the inside. In the middle of the room was an empty cauldron, its insides dried with the remains of an old potion. Ingredients sat scattered across a sagging table. Howlet wings, valerian root, pomegranate juice, flobberworm mucus, African sea salt, mallowsweet, and dried herbs. And blood. The last ingredient from Marcus's list splattered across the floor. 

Realization hit Rose in the gut like a punch. This is where they tortured Hugo. That was some of his blood on the floor. 

Angered coursed through her veins. Pious and his followers would pay for making her little brother suffer.