by Ilana Waters
I pursed my lips. “That’s funny. I’ve been to the tallest tower of the asylum, and I’ve never seen a flock of sheep. Not for miles. You must come from a very long way off.”
Another annoying smile, and the swaying feeling. “Well, I definitely wasn’t born of your land, let’s say that.”
I didn’t smile back. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll freeze to death in there?” I jutted my chin at the pond.
“Not at all.” He made circles in the water with his arms in a leisurely fashion. “In fact, I find it quite invigorating.”
“The prospect of freezing to death?”
“I assure you, my body is made to endure all manner of temperatures.” Despite his suggestive tone, I rolled my eyes. Boys always think they’re invincible. That’s why they often die young.
“Aren’t you at least getting tired?” I asked. “You’ve been treading water the entire time we’ve been talking. You must be a strong swimmer.”
“I get by.” Then, out of nowhere: “I couldn’t help but notice you admiring the moon.”
“Oh really?” This Dym fellow was beyond forward, and bizarre. He must have been referring to the moment I glanced at the sky before he arrived. “How would you know? Can you see underwater?”
Dym tried to stifle a laugh. “Something like that,” he replied. Infuriating. “I’m rather obsessed with the moon myself, as a matter of fact.” Indeed, his eyes rose to the heavens, an enchanted smile on his face. “Here in Hartlandia, it’s always big and round. I’ve heard in other places it changes. You can actually see it get slimmer and slimmer as it goes from new moon to full moon and back again. I always thought that would be beautiful to look at.”
“Fascinating.” I gritted my teeth. “But you haven’t even asked my name yet.” I didn’t really see why I should tell him. Yet, for some reason, it bothered me that he hadn’t asked.
Dym stopped looking at the sky and set his penetrating gaze on me.
“What’s your name, then?” His voice was softer than I expected, and coupled with the way he looked into my eyes, made my heart beat a little faster.
Blast. I didn’t really think he’d care about my name. I’d have to tell him now. Well, I didn’t have to, but he clearly wasn’t a threat, so there was no excuse to be rude. “It’s Seluna,” I said.
“Se-lu-na.” He closed his eyes and let the name roll over his tongue, but not in the ugly way Dr. Catron did. It was more like he wanted to savor the taste of my name. This boy was even stranger than I was. And still, I enjoyed watching his full lips form the word, hearing it echo from his throat again and again. “Seluna,” he whispered. “Seluna.”
I waited a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?” I asked. “What you’re really doing here?”
Dym shrugged and did a few backstrokes away from the pond’s edge. He must have been kicking his legs underwater, because I didn’t see them. “I told you,” he said. “I come here for midnight swims. Although, to be completely honest—”
“Aaahhh.” I folded my free arm beneath my elbow. “Now we get to it.”
“—I did have a feeling something important was going to happen here tonight. Most of my people have some measure of psychic ability.”
“Your people? Like, other shepherds?” I chuckled. “Does being psychic help them find lost sheep?”
Dym gave me a withering look. “It’s not a shepherd thing; it’s a family thing. Sometimes, it’s not so much a distinct message. More like a feeling you get. That you should be in a certain place at a certain time. Or that you’re going to meet someone.” His eyes lingered on my shape. “We’re also pretty good at reading body language, and knowing how other people are feeling.” This time, he peered at me intently, and I worried he was scanning my thoughts. Are such things possible? “For instance, right now, I can tell you’re deeply troubled about something.”
“You don’t have to be psychic to guess that,” I said. “Most folks admitted to insane asylums are pretty troubled.” I didn’t mention that Silver Hill seemed to be an exception. The only troubled people here were Catron and his minions.
“Riiight,” Dym said. “Say, you never told me what you were doing in an insane asylum anyway. And here I thought you were trespassing, like me.”
Should I tell him the truth? I didn’t know what I was doing, having such a frank conversation with a boy I’d only just met—one who went for midnight swims in winter, no less. And yet, there was something so familiar about him, it was as if we’d known each other for years. I shouldn’t have been ready to trust him, but for some reason, I was sure I could tell him anything.
“My parents put me in here,” I said finally. “I think they were afraid I’d end up like my sister.”
“What happened to your sister?”
“Well, she’s only a year older than me, but she started talking to animals. I don’t mean the way people talk to their cats and dogs in those baby voices. I mean really talking to them.”
Dym nodded as if this sort of thing happened every day. “Do you miss her?”
“I don’t know. I mean, by the time I left, she was spending most of her time in the fields ‘conversing’ with the cattle.”
“Not an easy person to get close to.”
“Definitely not.” I didn’t actually know what happened to Aurora after I left for Silver Hill. For all I knew, my parents had her admitted to a completely different asylum.
“Is she the only sister you have?”
“Yes. I have an older brother too, but I haven’t seen him in years. Last I heard, he was raising horses on a ranch somewhere. He’s been kind of depressed since his son died.”
“You had a nephew?”
I nodded. “But he had an accident riding one of my brother’s horses. There was a barn, and a fire . . . anyway, they were both killed. The horse and my nephew, I mean.”
“Sweet Sophia,” Dym said, and let out a low whistle. “Sorry to hear it. But why was your family afraid you’d go crazy? Were you acting crazy?”
“That’s what I can’t figure out.” A stiff breeze blew, and I tightened my shawl around my shoulders. A few of Dym’s hairs blew back as well, but otherwise, he didn’t seem to notice the cold. I had to stop myself from looking over his body for goosebumps. “I wasn’t doing anything crazy. At least I don’t think I was. Maybe they worried that with my sister’s behavior, madness ran in the family. Maybe sending me to Silver Hill was a precaution. That’s the only explanation I can think of.”
I took a deep breath and tried to collect my thoughts. There was one thing I hadn’t told Dym. Something I felt compelled to.
“And there’s something else weird about me.” I bit my lip.
“Oh? What might that be?” He cocked his head to one side.
“I can . . . I can sort of make things come to life. At least temporarily.”
“I imagine any boy feels his heart go pitter-pat whenever you’re near.”
I quickly disguised my flattered smile with a smirk. “Very funny. What I mean is, well, here. Let me see if I can show you.”
I stepped back a few feet so I could get my hands on some vines. Dym leaned forward on the pond’s edge. I took one of the vines from a dead tree in my hand and concentrated very, very hard. For some reason, the vine let me pull it away from the rest. I knew it couldn’t be alive, but somehow, I got the feeling it was sentient. I let the moonlight shine on it.
For a moment, it worked. The stem plumped up, and the leaves on the vine turned dark green, then light green as they began to unfurl. I could even see tiny plant veins beneath the surface of the leaves. But then, just as quickly, the vine twisted on itself and shriveled into blackness again. I let it drop from my hand and looked back at Dym, whose face bore no expression.
“You don’t seem surprised,” I said.
Now, he smiled, as if a girl reanimating objects was the most commonplace thing in the wo
rld. “I think you’ll find I’m very open-minded,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen stranger phenomena than that.”
“Really? Like what?”
“I’ll tell you some other time.”
“Presuming there will be some other time, or that we’ll see each other again.” I walked back to the pond’s edge.
“Oh, I’m certain I’ll be back. It’s very relaxing in the garden.”
“It’s not quite as relaxing on the inside,” I said darkly. “Do you even know what it’s like there?”
“How could I? Unless of course, you tell me about it.” Dym looked as if he had all the time in the world just to tread water and listen to me.
I explained the routine at the asylum, the restrictive rules. “It’s bad enough for me, and I’m fairly hearty. But for the other girls . . .”
“What other girls?” Dym asked.
I hesitated. Do I tell him about Rose and Laura? Best to keep it vague.
“The other patients,” I finally said. I detailed some of our treatments, including drugging, isolation, and electrocution.
Dym’s eyes widened. “Sounds ghastly. Why don’t you run away?”
I briefly explained the reasons why that wouldn’t work. Reasons I’d gone over in my mind just before I found the secret door to the garden.
“Well, I can’t think of a solution to your problem, except to do what you’re told until you’re released.” Dym splashed some water onto his face and ran his fingers through his hair. Why would he do that? I wondered. The water must be freezing. “Not believe what this Dr. Catron and his ilk are selling, mind you,” he continued. “Just go along till you fool them into thinking you’ve bought it. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to get you and the others out of the bulk of those horrific ‘treatments.’ You can always work on the family situation when you get home.”
“That was my conclusion as well,” I said. “I only managed to sneak away tonight because everyone else was asleep.” No need to tell him about the secret passage yet, if at all. “I’m not actually supposed to be here.” I indicated the garden. “It’s forbidden to patients. And to trespassers, obviously.” I looked down at him.
Dym grinned and floated on his back, showing only his torso. It made it look like he had half a body. A very nice half, to be sure.
I sighed. “So you’re just going to swim in and out of here whenever you feel like it?”
Dym stopped floating and bobbed up and down in the water. “Pretty much.”
I stole a glance back at the asylum. “Well, I won’t say anything. But make sure you don’t get caught.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t get caught. But you take care as well.” His voice deepened with concern. “I have a feeling that in a few weeks’ time, something will . . . happen.”
“ ‘In a few weeks’ time, something will happen.’ Could you possibly be a little more specific?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can.” Dym rubbed his eyes as if doing so would allow him to discern more, to truly see the future. “Again, it’s just a feeling. In nearly a month, a very important event will happen here.”
One month. An important event. Just like Catron’s psychic predicted. Was it a coincidence? Unless Dym was Catron’s psychic. But the idea of Catron trusting the word of a mere boy was preposterous.
I wondered if the girls and I would even last a month in this place. Should I ask Dym to get a message to Laura’s aunt? I barely knew him. Sure, he was fascinating, in an exasperating sort of way. But could I trust him? I decided I’d better wait. If he didn’t have the girls’ best interests at heart, requesting help could lead to disaster.
“Well, I’ll certainly be on the lookout for important things.” One month since I learned about the prediction, minus the week I’ve been here. That leaves about three weeks, if the psychic and Dym are right.
“Important things like me?” Dym grinned in that maddening fashion of his.
“My, aren’t we adept at self-flattery? Actually, I don’t know if I should make a habit of coming here.” Although it doesn’t seem like an entirely bad idea, given the alternative of staying upstairs. “But either way, it was, ah, nice meeting you, Dym.”
His cheekbones. Why hadn’t I noticed how high and sharp they were before? I forced myself to look away, but not before nodding politely. Then I turned to go.
“Nice meeting you, Seluna.” I glanced over my shoulder; he was swimming backwards, never taking his eyes from me. “Again,” he said softly as I walked towards the asylum.
Again? What does he mean by “again”? I turned back, but Dym had disappeared into the water. I peered closer. Had he drowned? Unlikely, given his superior aquatic abilities. But he couldn’t have swum around to the front of Silver Hill that fast either. I waited, looking at the pond for a few moments. Still no sign of him. Not even the bubbles on the surface of the water that a drowning person would make. I guess he really had swum off.
Quite the athlete, that Dym. Perhaps he’s training for the Titanympics.
I put my hand to my head. Ugh. That swaying feeling. The longer I stayed in Dym’s company, the worse it got. I felt like I was being drawn into a whirlpool, a body of water with only him and me. I imagined it making a funnel around us. I felt the heat of his skin touching mine, our bodies pressed together. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and the feeling went away.
Others might have had a hard time finding the door to get back, but I knew to look for the iron ring. It was the kind of thing you wouldn’t really see unless you were looking for it. I pushed on the door, opening it, and went back inside. I had only gone up a few steps when my skirt caught on a loose, rusty nail.
“Aaah!” I cried out as I fell, almost face-first, into a step. Cursing, I tore the edge of my skirt off the nail and steadied my candle, which had almost fallen as well. That was when I saw it.
Out of the corner of my eye, the candlelight glinted off something. At first, I thought it was a piece of gold jewelry. But when I brought the candle closer, it turned out to be the gilded writing on the spine of a very old book. The book rested on a step against the wall. With my taper held high as I walked up and down the steps, there was no way I would’ve looked down to see it.
Maybe it’s lucky that I tripped, then. I tried picking the book up with my free hand, but it was too thick and heavy. Parts of the leather were flaking away. Pieces of loose paper had been stuffed inside, and were sticking out in various places. It looked bloated and waterlogged, as if it had been dumped in a bath.
Or a pond, I thought.
But the ink was still legible. Magical ink, no doubt. And the inscription on the cover hadn’t been done by a machine. You could tell someone had lovingly hand-tooled it. The hinges on the book weren’t modern by any means; I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were medieval. All in all, it looked like an artifact that had been there for hundreds of years.
“ ‘Property of Queen Sophia Rose Delphi Del . . . something,” I read aloud. I couldn’t make out the rest; it was too worn and faded. I sat on the steps for a moment and gently turned the pages by candlelight. It seemed like a diary, or a scrapbook. Some of it was in Old Hartlandian, which would take me a while to translate. Thank heavens for that class on ancient languages I’d aced last year.
I gave a loud, wide yawn. I was too tired to look at the book anymore tonight. At least it would give me something to do tomorrow during my confinement, which I assumed would still be in effect. I climbed the rest of the stairs with the book under my arm and pushed on the secret door. Nothing. I pushed a bit harder, but it still didn’t open.
I tried not to panic. I would not die of starvation in a secret staircase in an insane asylum. I took deep breaths. Worst-case scenario, I could just turn back around and get out through the door that led to the garden. But I’d have a devil of a time explaining to the staff how I got there once they found me. I put down the book and candle down and pushed on the door with both hands
. Nothing. I leaned my entire body into it, but still nothing.
Damn it all. I gritted my teeth. I know the door swings open into the attic. That’s how it worked the last time. Doors couldn’t change the way they worked, could they? Was the iron ring on this side just for show as well? I gave it a quick tug, not expecting anything to happen.
My expectations were not met, which turned out to be a good thing. I heard the same click as before, and the door fell open into my room.
“Tricky, tricky,” I said to the door. “One would almost think you were magic. Or just sneaky engineering.” I picked up my candle and book and went inside, closing the door behind me.
I snuffed out the flame and lay down on my cot. I wasn’t thinking of how long I’d be in solitary confinement anymore. Instead, my thoughts wandered to the secret passage and its mysterious book. The unearthly garden. And the boy in the pond who I couldn’t get out of my mind.
Chapter 6
It wasn’t until one week later that I was let out of my own personal Hold. I was dirtier, not to mention thinner from reduced rations. They’d only given me one meal per day. I supposed I should consider myself lucky they remembered to feed me at all.
I managed to wash what few clothes I had in the pond. I even dragged a bucket full of water upstairs to bathe myself. It didn’t work as well as an actual bath, but what choice did I have? I guessed I could have bathed in the pond, but it would have been even more freezing than the bucket water. And I didn’t relish the thought of Dym coming upon me stark naked. Not really. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter if he was there or not, that I didn’t care if I saw him again. But I knew it was a lie.
Yet, what I’d told Dym about my admission was the truth: that sending me here as a precaution was the only plausible explanation. Oh, I never doubted that Mother and Father loved me, at least not until now. They’d always treated me and my siblings equally. And aside from the usual squabbles, I couldn’t say my parents and I got along poorly. But I was keenly aware they never knew what to make of their odd, dark daughter. Unlike Helios and Aurora, who seemed to fit in wherever they went, I always felt out of place in society. I was more comfortable in the shadows.
