As if on cue, the vines tightened in front of me, growing thicker and more impenetrable before my eyes. They grew so thick that they weren’t a wall of vines, but a wall of sheer darkness. Unlike most darkness, I could not find my way around this one. A particularly large vine began lashing out at me, twisting this way and that in front of my face. Even though it had no thorns, it sliced into my upper cheek. I felt a warm drop of blood drip down my face.
“Ugh!” I held my candle in front of me for protection. The flame lit the vine, but only for a moment. They don’t burn? What kind of demon plants are these? “Get away!” I cried.
Then the most bizarre thing happened. The vine actually seemed to listen. It stopped whipping back and forth and withdrew slowly, its sharpness no longer at risk of touching my skin. I could have sworn it was looking me up and down, weighing and measuring me.
It retreated into the black vine wall, which pulled apart to let me pass. I walked through slowly, expecting a trap. But the vines did not try to attack me, nor did they close behind me as I moved forward. And it might have been my imagination, but they seemed to turn a little greener as well.
Maybe I really am going mad. In fact, maybe I’m imagining this entire scenario. The hidden staircase, the garden, all of it. Then I saw the pond.
It must have been twenty-five feet in diameter, possibly man-made—the culmination of the moat that encircled Silver Hill. You could see where it tapered off into two outlets that wound back around the front of the asylum. It was still half-frozen; large sheets of ice covered part of it. And although dead trees surrounded the pond, the vines did not go near.
What’s so special about the pond? I wondered. Though there could be no doubt it was beautiful. The pond was so clear, and the night so dark, I could actually see stars reflected in the water. For once, it was not overcast or raining, and the stars shone as if someone had flung an armful of diamonds into the sky.
Written in the stars. Although a sinister phrase employed by Catron’s fortune-teller, I couldn’t help thinking it sounded rather pretty. I looked up. The stars seemed so far away, and yet, I could swear they were close to me somehow. As near as my own heartbeat. The moon, full and round, shone down as well. Its mirror image was in the pond, making it look as if the world held two moons. I momentarily imagined them as lovers, reaching out to one another across the universe.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the water move. I don’t mean flow, the way water often does. Nor was this a tiny ripple beneath the waves. It seemed like something larger under the water was moving. Moving, and coming closer.
It couldn’t be a fish; it was far too big. An air pocket, perhaps? Do ponds even have air pockets? I didn’t have to wonder for very long. A brunet head appeared in the pond. It rose straight out of the water as if something was lifting it from below. Next came a dark, sinewy chest and a smooth, glistening stomach. It had a sharp face and bright, penetrating eyes. They were green eyes, the color of sea glass. Whatever it was, it was definitely male. Without knowing why, I leaped back and pointed at the thing with my index finger. I nearly lost my balance and dropped my candle.
“Don’t come any closer!” I shouted.
When I turned back, I saw that the “thing” was just a boy. He looked about my age. It was hard to tell, because when he spoke, he seemed much older. There was a weight to his voice; a low, resonant quality that sent shivers through me. Shivers that weren’t exactly unpleasant.
“Why not?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and bringing his hands out of the water. The tight curls of his shoulder-length hair dripped water down his chest. I couldn’t stop staring at it. He put his palms out to either side, as if to indicate he had no weapons. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” His tone was teasing, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
I was still standing there, pointing at him. I looked ridiculous. A boy had snuck into Silver Hill, and here I was with a finger in his face. What was that going to accomplish? I didn’t even know why I did it. As far as defensive reflexes went, most people would have at least put up their fists. Maybe I really am strange. I put my hand down and turned my head for a fraction of a second towards the asylum, praying my shouts hadn’t woken anyone up.
The boy squinted at me and cocked his head. His mouth made a little O, and his smile became one of surprise and awe.
“It’s you,” he whispered, staring at me as though seeing the sun for the first time. “At least, I think it’s you.”
“Of course it’s me,” I said very slowly, as if talking to a small child. “Who else would it be?”
“No, I mean, it’s just . . . never mind. I thought you’d be more . . . no matter.”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.”
The trespasser was clearly an idiot. Even more irritating, when I looked into his eyes, I felt like I was swaying. I don’t mean dizzy. I mean moving subtly back and forth, as if I were underwater.
“What are you doing here?” I asked impatiently. “There are no boys allowed. There’s hardly anything allowed, but certainly not boys.” And you wouldn’t want to be here even if you were allowed, I thought. Trust me.
“I’m not exactly a boy,” he answered.
Did the trespasser think I was an idiot? “You’re naked from the waist up.” I paused, then continued quickly when I realized I was staring at his chest again. “So, as far as I can tell, you look an awful lot like a boy. And if you’re not a boy, then what exactly are you?”
The not-boy swam to the edge of the pond closest to me and leaned his palms on it. This time, I did not back away or point my finger at him. I couldn’t help but notice the light blue veins and sinewy muscles of his forearms. He must do a lot of swimming.
“Some things are best kept below the surface, as it were,” he replied. “For now, let’s just say I’m Dym.”
“Dim?” I raised my eyebrows. “As in ‘stupid’?” His name would be the first thing about him that made sense.
The not-boy rolled his eyes. “No. As in short for ‘Endymion.’ ” He cleared his throat and quoted the first part of the poem to me.
* * *
“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made for our searching.”
* * *
“That’s John Keats’s ‘Endymion,’ ” he added.
“I know who John Keats is.” I glared at him. “What I don’t know is what you’re doing in a pond in the back of an insane asylum.”
“Oh? Is this an insane asylum?” The playful tone returned, and he clasped his hands behind his head and looked up at me. “I hadn’t noticed. I’m, ah . . . a shepherd. Have a flock nearby. Come to swim in the pond every once in a while at night.”
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 world. “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.”
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