But Scorpius knows what it really is before he sees what Albus produces. The runes on his skin, the corridor lined with niches stuffed with the dead, the throbbing bug eyes on the walls - even here, in this obvious living space, a layer of horror clenches around his heart. It spreads from all the ancient treasures, from the centuries-old dust, from the glow of permanent active runes that he cannot understand.