I thought of the intercom in Catron’s office. I bet if he had an intercom, there was a telegraph machine in there somewhere. There had to be, if only to order supplies for the asylum.
“I’m almost sure Dr. Catron has one in his office,” I said. “I figure we have at least twenty more minutes until they finish mopping the hallway by the dorms. One of us can sneak into the office and send Laura’s aunt a message.” Maybe, if we’re lucky, she can help Rose and me get out of here, too. But I didn’t want to get Rose’s hopes up by saying that.
“I’ll go,” said Rose.
“No, I will.” My reply was firm. “The halls aren’t well lit and I can . . . I can see better in the dark than most people.”
“You can?” the girls said in unison.
I rubbed my temples. I still wasn’t sure how much of my strangeness I wanted to reveal, but there seemed no way to avoid it. Doing anything else at the moment might put Rose and Laura in danger. “Yes. It’ll be easier for me to get around, so don’t even think about arguing.” Rose opened her mouth to protest, then closed it.
I glanced at the corner of the room opposite the door, where a female nurse was flirting with Scrawny Male Nurse. The rest of the girls were facing the windows. This was my golden opportunity. I leaned in closer to my friends.
“Okay, I’m going to sneak away. Just act natural. Hopefully, I’ll be gone and back so fast that no one will notice I’m missing.”
“Good luck!” Laura’s voice was trembling.
“Ugh. This is so nerve-racking!” Rose ran her fingers through her bangs. “I’d kill for a cig.”
“Do not try to sneak a cigarette.” I pointed at her. With one last look over my shoulder at the nurses, I was still pointing as I backed away towards the exit.
The heavy door creaked loudly. I cringed, wondering what excuse I could invent to explain why I was opening it. But just at that moment, Scrawny Male Nurse must have said something funny, because Flirty Nurse laughed so loudly she snorted. The sound covered the door’s creaking. I slipped out, silently thanking the gods for whatever passed as wit from the mouth of that dull, skinny man.
It felt so good to walk the dark halls with no one watching, no prying eyes. It was almost as good as going outdoors, which we weren’t allowed to do either. Too “stimulating,” even if weather permitted. Though it was still cold and windy, I had the unbearable urge to run across the moors. But all the doors were locked, and only nurses had keys.
And I didn’t just want to be outdoors because it would let me run away from Silver Hill.
I think it was because being indoors all the time was driving me mad, if I wasn’t already. I wanted to run across fields and rivers and through forests until my heart burst, maybe with a dog or two by my side. I had fairly good stamina for a teenage girl. Funny, but I often thought there was no way I could ever run enough. Sometimes, it seemed I could go on forever.
Though the asylum was labyrinthine, I remembered the route to Dr. Catron’s office from the day Nurse Cutter took me there. And even if I hadn’t been able to see well, I could feel things in the darkness. I rarely bumped into objects or tripped, even when I was at home. The walls, the furniture . . . they seemed to speak to me somehow. It was as if they told me where they were.
But these hallways were dark even by my standards, and the few gas lamps set on low cast lengthy shadows on the walls and floors. I almost thought I saw things moving in them. I could have sworn one shadow was in the shape of a tall man.
I whirled my head around, my hair spinning over my shoulder. There was no man. Nothing was there except a long hall that ended in a pool of black. But it would be easy for a person to flatten themselves against the wall and disappear into the darkness. I knew that was what I planned to do if I met any staff on this little quest. I waited several seconds and listened hard, just in case someone was following me. But I didn’t want to take too much time; if I did, Nurses Flirty and Scrawny were sure to notice my absence. I walked on.
Catron certainly has a lot of strange artifacts in his hallways, I thought as I looked around. In addition to the typical solemn portraits lining the walls, there was a lot of Viking and medieval weaponry. I wondered if it wasn’t Catron’s at all, but left by the previous owners of the asylum. After all, the building had stood for centuries. I passed an armored knight that was at least a thousand years old. He stood next to one of the few windows in the hall, his shield and breastplate gleaming.
And then he moved. Out of the corner of my eye, I distinctly saw the knight bend his arm down an inch and swivel his head towards me. I nearly jumped out of my skin, then covered my mouth, laughing. I made him move, I realized. Pretty keen. Don’t think I’ve ever animated anything that large before. Though I knew I had to hurry, I wanted to see if I could move him again. A ray of moonlight from the window passed over the knight, and I made him bow and salute me before returning to his previous position.
Hmmm. Reflecting light makes moving things easier. Don’t know why I never realized that before. I picked up my skirts and walked faster down the hall. Now, I really had to make up for lost time. Soon, I saw the wooden bench that I’d been instructed to sit on by Nurse Cutter. There was no light coming from underneath Catron’s door, so that meant he wasn’t there. I wondered if the door was locked. I cursed myself for not thinking to steal a hairpin.
The floorboards—did I just hear them creak behind me? I turned around and squinted, but saw nothing. I reached out to put my hand on the clear-glass doorknob when someone’s strong fingers clamped down on my wrist.
I gasped, and looked up to find myself staring into the face of Dr. Catron.
Chapter 4
“Seluna! How unusual to see you here.” He brought my wrist up to the level of his chest, then slowly lowered and released it. “Is there something I can help you with, that you are so eager to enter my office?”
I blinked rapidly. Hellfire. How did he manage to sneak up on me like that? Then again, the signs had been there all along. I’d simply chosen to ignore them. I had to think fast.
“Oh, is this your office?” I asked innocently. “I thought this was the utility closet. Nurse Sommers sent me to get some more mops for the dormitory hall. It seems they’re having a pretty rough time getting those floors dry.”
“Really.” It was a statement, not a question. “I find that hard to believe for two reasons. One, my name is on the door.”
I looked up, and sure enough, “Office of Dr. Catron DeKay” was carved into a gilded plate fastened to the wood.
“Oh, well, it’s awfully dark around here, you know. Hard to see which door is which—”
“And two, the excess water in the dormitory hall was mopped up ten minutes ago.”
Perdition. I was caught. Utterly and completely caught. Catron looked at me with eyes that seemed to want to pierce my soul.
“I think it’s time we faced the facts of the matter, Se-lu-na. You’re deteriorating, and quite rapidly. I think more . . . drastic measures are called for.”
“Drastic?” I swallowed. “What do you mean by ‘drastic’?”
I pounded on the inside door of my room, though my wrists and arms hurt from where orderlies had dragged me. “Hey! When are you going to let me out?”
“When Dr. Catron decides you’re ready.” The sound of Nurse Cutter’s voice was as final as the click of the key as it turned in the lock.
“When will that be?” I yelled. “A week? A month? The rest of my life?” Is this like putting me in the Hold? “Hey, where are you going?” I could hear her footsteps getting fainter and fainter as she went down the stairs. “Answer me!”
But she didn’t. I had a feeling neither she nor anyone else would be back, unless it was to give me meals the following day. Or perhaps not, if what Rose said about treatment in the Hold was true.
Except for the fact that I might starve, it was hard to consider isolation a punishment. Catron probably didn’t know it, but I often got my best ideas when I was a
lone. Then again, I had always been odd. But I didn’t really think I’d starve. Just as I’d always been able to see with less light, I could usually get by on less food, though it was unpleasant.
Still, this was a complete injustice. Who the hell does Catron think he is? I hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. I only wanted to stop people from getting hurt. I found my chamberstick candleholder and matches, lit a taper, and tried to think.
I had to get out of here. Not just out of my room, but out of the asylum. However, the more I thought about escape, the more I realized the inevitability of failure. Even if I could get past the locked doors and barred windows, then into the forest that surrounded the moors, I had no way of getting out of the forest. I’d been raised in civilization; I’d no idea how to survive alone in the woods in winter. And unless my reanimation abilities included raising my own dead corpse, I was would likely be made a meal of by some wild animal.
And where would I go? Home wasn’t an option, even if I could make it there. After all, the people at home were the ones who sent me here. I wasn’t entirely sure they didn’t suspect the things Dr. Catron and his staff were capable of. I had no other family or friends who lived close by, and no way to travel to the few I did have.
Friends. Even if I made it out, what about the other girls? What about Rose and Laura? It was true I hadn’t known them long, but what would they think of my abandoning them? As long as I stayed, there was a possibility I could figure out a way for us all to escape.
Fat chance of that happening, I thought bitterly. I’d already failed Laura once. What would they think once they heard I’d been locked in my room? They’d probably be more frightened and distraught than ever. And the staff would probably keep a closer watch on me than ever. I wouldn’t have another opportunity to sneak into Catron’s office and find his telegraph. Hopefully, once word of my imprisonment got to Rose, she wouldn’t dare try either. It wasn’t worth the risk of her suffering the same fate as me. Or worse.
Cursing, I watched as the candlelight made shadows around the garret. Still cursing, I walked back and forth across the floor. I kicked the wall in one corner. I expected it to give at least a little, to crumble like the rest of the rotting wood in here. But it held firm. Annoyed, I kicked the wall again, harder.
Ow! Dammit, that really hurt. Even with the thick tip of my boot, I could feel the pain vibrating through my toes. And the second kick had made a dull, thudding sound. Not what you’d hear from an old piece of wood. Whatever I’d kicked felt more solid. Substantial.
Slowly, I moved my hands over the bottom of the wall, sweeping away a thick blanket of dust and cobwebs. It was disgusting work, and I had to wipe my fingers off on my skirts several times; the mess was that bad. But I was so irritated that I didn’t care. As I cleaned the debris away, the wall felt colder. This part of the attic wasn’t made of wood, it seemed, but stone. That was why my foot hurt when I kicked it. But the wall was so dirty—and the attic so often dark—that I’d never noticed it before.
I found a large crack between the wall and the floor. There was a draft coming from underneath it; that was why the wall seemed colder. As my hands made their way up, and I paused to wipe them every few feet, I realized it wasn’t a wall at all. I felt a large iron ring on the right side. The wall was actually a door.
Anticipating the door would be heavy, I put my boot against the wall next to the door and pulled the ring with both hands. The door didn’t budge. I stood on my tiptoes and brushed the rest of the dust and cobwebs off it. Now, I could see its outline clearly. But no matter how much I pulled and pulled, the door wouldn’t move an inch.
Blast. I really wanted to see what was behind it. Was it a secret room? Could it be . . . a dead body? I had to admit, I found the latter thought more thrilling than horrifying. It would certainly be a creepy and exciting find.
Gods, maybe I really am as loony as they say. Normal girls didn’t think like this. Regardless, I had to know what was behind that door, even if it was only storage.
I pulled so hard on the ring that I lost my balance and fell on my tailbone. I swore, rubbed my backside, and stood up again. I gave the door a hard thwack with my palm. Damn this wretched thing! But then, I heard a click, and the door began gently swinging into the room.
What? You had to push the door to get it open? Perhaps the ring was just for show.
“Clever, aren’t we?” I said to the door. “Getting me to hit you like that and all.” I backed up a few feet, just in case the dead bodies behind the door weren’t quite so dead.
The door swung open all the way. And although there was a draft, which I expected, there was nothing dead. But there wasn’t a place for storage either. I peered inside. I couldn’t glimpse much from the light of the candle, even with my keen vision. But it seemed to be the top of a stairwell. I stepped into the doorway and looked down a winding staircase, one whose bottom I could not see.
You have two choices, Seluna, I thought. Stay here, bemoaning your fate, or go down the stairs and see where they lead.
I was no coward, and staying up here was pointless. It was an easy choice. I debated whether to bring the candle. If someone—or something—dangerous was in the stairwell, I didn’t want to call attention to myself. I may not have been a coward, but I wasn’t a fool either. Still, no creature—including me—could see in total darkness.
Creature. I smiled a little. Exactly what was I expecting to find in the secret passage?
It was an intriguing question.
I picked up the candleholder and grabbed a small matchbox. Undoing a few collar buttons, I stuck the matchbox down the front of my bodice. For the first time, I wondered if it might be a good idea to sew in secret pockets, the way Rose had. I’d no idea how she’d gotten the needle and thread to do so, but if she could sneak in cigarettes, she could do damn near anything. Wrapping my shawl about my neck and shoulders, I cupped one hand around the candle flame so it wouldn’t be killed by the draft. I took a deep breath and stepped over the door’s threshold.
No sooner had I done so than the door closed behind me with a resounding thud. It nearly blew out the candle, but I hunched over it just in time. Now it was the only light in the cramped space.
Well, you’re the one who wanted to go down the stairs, Seluna, I thought to myself. Now you’ve got your wish. I picked up my skirts and walked slowly, trying not to trip on the tiny, steep steps. I couldn’t see that far in front of me.
In medieval times, twisting stairs like these were built to give castle owners an advantage in the event of an attack. They would have been able to sword-fight more effectively going down the stairs than an intruder would be able to do going up. Then again, I had no sword. I didn’t have so much as a letter opener to use as a weapon if I needed it.
Bugger all. Should’ve thought of that before. Why didn’t I bring something? Oh well. Too late now.
I tried to tell myself there was nothing to worry about. From the looks of the cobwebs in here, no one had gone up or down this staircase in quite a while. I wondered if Catron knew about it. Unlikely. He owned the asylum, but he wasn’t the original builder. I’d never seen Silver Hill’s blueprints, but if the staircase wasn’t on them, Catron probably had no idea it existed. He never would’ve put me in the garret if he had.
The steps seemed to go on forever. How far down do they reach, anyway? Am I underground? Perhaps the staircase wound into the very center of the earth. I remembered a story where several men once ventured there, but I believe they did it by means of an inactive volcano.
I was still racking my brain for the name of the story when I came to the last step. Before me stood a stone door, roughly the same size as the one in my room. There was no need to try and open this one. I could already see moonlight shining through the large slit on one side where someone had failed to shut it completely.
I pushed the door open and peered around it. I wasn’t at the center of the earth. I wasn’t even underground. Instead, I was tentatively wal
king into the forbidden gardens of Silver Hill.
Chapter 5
It wasn’t quite cold enough to see my breath, but it was still chilly. I re-buttoned my collar, flipped it up, and tightened my shawl. As soon as I cleared the door’s threshold, it shut behind me. I whirled around, but couldn’t see it any longer. The door’s outline was covered by black, angry-looking vines. I felt around where I thought the door should be. Finally, I found an iron ring similar to the one on the secret door in my room. Not wishing to be fooled a second time, I gave the door a push. It creaked open, as I suspected it would. I pushed a second time and it shut tight. At least now, I knew how to open this one when I needed to get back.
It was late. No light from candle or gas lamp shone in the asylum windows; everyone must have been asleep. I could see where the formal entrance to the garden was: through several pairs of French doors with barred windows. Quietly, I tried opening each of them, but they were all locked.
Of course they’re locked. I peered through the dirty glass, but couldn’t see much inside. I did glimpse vast marble floors, however. Perhaps this was once a ballroom?
But the gardens certainly weren’t fit for dancing, or even for a pleasant stroll. All around me were dead, stunted trees, about half the size that trees should be. They drooped and curled on themselves as if doubled over in pain. And they were black. In fact, everything that should be green or brown was black. Not the comforting, familiar black I loved. This was different. This was the black of dead things, of burned pencils and choking soot.
It looked like a forest had tried to overtake a graveyard. Not that there were headstones, but the entire landscape had a desolate feeling to it. The most noticeable part of this was the vines. They were as black and dead as everything else here, yet they seemed worse somehow. Like the rest of the place had given up, but the vines had just enough life left in them to do malice. It reminded me of a fairy tale where a prince had to hack his way through evil vines to rescue a sleeping princess. I looked around. Little risk of that happening here. I’d have to make my way through the garden on my own.
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