“Ah, near the garret,” I replied. It was half-true, at least. And although I’d gone back over the stairs thoroughly on my hands and knees with a candle, I still hadn’t found anything other than the mysterious book.
“It says ‘Property of Queen . . .’ ” Rose squinted at the faded inscription, but had as much trouble reading it as I did. “ ‘Queen Sophia,’ et cetera. Who’s Queen Sophia?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know.” I couldn’t remember if we’d studied Queen Sophia in history class. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the nurse/cafeteria monitor directing girls to bring their empty trays up to the lunch window. Mealtime was nearly over. We’d already deposited our trays, so hopefully the monitor wouldn’t be back this way.
“Wow, a queen?” murmured Laura. “Like a real queen?”
Rose bent her head to get closer to Laura, making her curls bob up and down. “No, like a fake queen.”
Laura ignored Rose, running her fingers over the book’s cover. “I heard Silver Hill used to be the royal palace,” she mused. “It was where Hartlandia’s kings and queens lived in ancient times.”
“I think that’s just a myth,” I said. Like the story about my name.
“Who cares who it’s by?” said Rose excitedly. “What’s in it? Is it a diary?” She carefully pulled back the cover, but couldn’t read the first few pages.
“Hey, is this Old Hartlandian?”
“Some of it is,” I explained. Then, after another moment, “I know a little.”
“What does it say?” the girls asked in unison.
I kept turning the pages, trying to find something Rose or Laura might recognize. “Well, my Old Hartlandian isn’t the best, and there are a lot of pages missing. So, it’s hard to tell exactly what the book contains. But I think it’s a grimoire.”
Rose’s brow furrowed. “A grim what?”
“That sounds scary,” Laura said.
“It’s not, really,” I said. “It’s sort of a cross between a witch’s diary and a recipe book.”
“A recipe book?” Laura cocked her head. “What do witches cook?”
Rose made a fist and lightly bopped Laura on the head. “She means spells, silly. Witches cook up spells.”
I told them a bit of what I’d found and managed to translate during the past week.
“Here’s something interesting.” I put my finger on a page with a large moon at the top, its beams coming down onto the text below. “It talks about the cycles of the moon.”
“Interesting? That doesn’t sound interesting,” said Rose. “I think you meant boring.”
I continued explaining. “The new moon is for success, blessings, and planting. Waxing moon is for working hard on projects you hope to see completed by the full moon. Full moon is for fortune-telling, protection, and banishing. Waning moon is for healing, breaking habits, and releasing negative emotions.”
“Dr. Catron and his foot soldiers need a waning moon,” Laura snorted. “They’re full of negative emotions.”
“I think they’re just full of it,” said Rose.
I looked over my shoulder again and put my fingers to my lips. The cafeteria monitor was still several tables away, but her eyes were moving back and forth, looking for the slightest sign of trouble.
“Say, what moon cycle are we in now?” asked Laura.
I tried to remember the date. “I think we’re in the waxing moon.” I wondered if what Dym said about the moon in other places was true. Did it really change shape as it went from waxing to new to waning to full? It must have been convenient to look at the sky and know the moon phase. In Hartlandia, if one lost track of phases, one had to go to an almanac.
“What’s this part?” Rose pointed to the figure of a woman on the page. The woman had her back to the full moon and was pointing at something out of frame with her index finger. Light streamed from the moon to her finger to the unseen object.
“ ‘Drawing Down the Moon. Must be done with a full moon,’ ” I read slowly. It was part Old Hartlandian, part New. Oddly enough, this made it harder to translate than if it had just been Old Hartlandian. “ ‘Done to honor the Moon Goddess or employ her power. Results in a trance state combined with a power surge that radiates through the body. Make . . . ’ some kind of circle.”
“You mean walk in a circle? Draw a circle?” Laura peppered me with questions.
“I don’t know. It just says ‘make a circle.’ Open your chakras—”
“What’s a chakra?” Laura asked.
“Take your wand—”
“You’re supposed to have a wand?” Rose asked.
“—in your . . . something hand, and point it at the moon. Say . . . damn. This part’s been nearly rubbed out. I think it was a rhyming incantation. Wait—there’s more. ‘You should feel the moon being absorbed into you. Slowly lower your wand. You now have the power of the goddess.’ ”
“Pretty wild stuff,” said Rose.
“I wonder if we could draw down the moon, Seluna,” said Laura. “Maybe then we could get out of here.”
I shook my head sadly. “I don’t think that would work. We’re not witches. We don’t have wands, we don’t know the incantation, and so on.”
“Too many don’ts,” Rose agreed, frowning.
“I did look in the book for something that might help us get away from here, or incapacitate the staff,” I said. “I thought at the very least, I might find a way to immobilize Catron so he’d stop torturing us.”
Rose’s frown disappeared, replaced with an eager smile. “And did you find anything?”
I shook my head again. I hated to keep disappointing them. “I haven’t translated the whole thing, but most of the spells are for those with advanced skill in the Craft. Witchcraft, I mean.”
“Then what good is this stupid book, anyway?” snapped Laura.
Rose and I looked at one another. It wasn’t like Laura to be so angry. “Well, it was a fun diversion, right?” Rose put her hand on Laura’s arm, but Laura turned her head away. “And it’s really old, which is kind of neat.” Rose fingered the spine, glancing down where gold leaf flaked off on her hand. Then there was the terrific noise of a tray hitting the floor and several plates and bowls smashing.
“Dammit to ’ell, you imbecile!” the cafeteria monitor screamed in the face of a terrified girl. “I told you she needs ’elp. She can’t feed ’erself no more. She sure as anythin’ can’t bring up a tray on ’er own! You have to do it for ’er!” The girl was trembling, her hands clasped so tightly in front of her I could see them turning white.
The patient she was supposed to be helping stared at the ceiling, mumbling. Her eyes looked almost as white as the other girl’s hands, and filmy, as if someone had poured milk over them. Her dress and hair were askew, as if she’d had trouble getting ready in the morning. Or perhaps someone had trouble helping her, if they’d even bothered.
“I know that girl!” hissed Rose. “That’s Thomasina. She was admitted the same day I was.”
“Which one?” I leaned forward to get a closer look. The entire cafeteria had come to a standstill, with everybody staring at the monitor and her victims.
“The one who’s not herself.” Rose jutted her chin at the mumbling girl.
“What did they do to her?” Laura’s voice quivered.
Rose grimaced. “Don’t know. But I do know she spends a lot of time alone with Dr. Catron in his office. More time than anyone I’ve seen here.”
“I’ve ’ad enough of your antics!” The cafeteria monitor was screaming again at the petrified girl. “All you brainless loonies are alike. I think they should just get rid of the ’ole cursed lot of you. You can bet Dr. Catron will ’ear about this! Now, clean up this mess and line up at the door. It’s nearly time for your daily exercises.”
The girls formed a line. Thomasina’s friend hastily wiped the floor with several napkins, then gently guided Thomasina into place with shaking hands. Rose, Laura, and I got up slowly to join them.
&
nbsp; “Why is Thomasina spending so much time with Dr. Catron?” I asked Rose. It was astounding how much I’d missed in only a week. The cafeteria monitor glared at me for reasons I couldn’t discern. I gave her a tight smile. She glared for a few more seconds, then began scolding the other girls for not lining up straight enough.
“All I know is she said she had a problem with the light,” answered Rose. She pulled the flap down tighter over my satchel to make sure no one saw the Book.
“The light? What’s wrong with the light?” I asked. We stayed close together, moving forward inch by inch.
“There isn’t enough of it, for one thing,” Laura said. “Haven’t you noticed? Sometimes, it shines down from the high windows, but other than that, you can hardly see it. At night, they never turn the lamps up high enough. I’ve got bruises on my shins just from trying to walk straight after dusk. Even in the solarium, it’s always so gray and cloudy. Oh, how I wish spring would come!”
“There’s something unnerving about it always being dark, about never getting enough sunlight,” agreed Rose as we went behind the other girls. Now, we waited for Nurse Cutter to arrive, like always, to take us to the main entrance. “It does terrible things to the mind, or so I’ve heard. I’m starting to believe it’s true.”
I stood in line, feeling awful for Thomasina, Laura, and the rest of the so-called patients here. With my acute vision, I actually hadn’t noticed the lack of light as much.
It’s a shame they can’t feel the darkness the way I can. Its comforting arms, its tenderness.
“Well, it’ll be spring soon enough,” I said brightly. “Just a few more weeks, right? Then maybe we’ll all be home, and there’ll be plenty of sunlight.”
“You mean if we go home,” muttered Rose. “And it’s not like we have the greatest families to return to.” The cafeteria monitor passed by, giving us the once-over. Rose smiled widely at her. Satisfied that our part of the line was straight, the monitor went and stood by the door.
“It’s not only the lack of sunlight that’s creepy around here. Did you notice the last few rooms at the end of the dormitory?” Rose asked. “The ones marked ‘Reserved’?”
“The ones with the horrid screams coming from them?” Laura shivered. “Or sometimes, the girls inside make no noise at all. Not even normal sounds, like talking or moving about. I don’t know which is worse.”
“What rooms?” I asked. I had to talk out of the corner of my mouth; turning towards Rose and Laura would mar the line’s perfection, but I didn’t dare speak louder. Staying in the garret was really starting to become a liability. I was all but cut off from the rest of Silver Hill, from things everyone else knew.
“Those rooms are reserved for permanent residents. You know—girls who never go home,” Rose said darkly.
Laura’s eyes bulged. “Never?”
Rose nodded. “The ones Dr. Catron decides are the sickest stay here forever. If you manage to do what he says, or act the way he wants, you’re considered ‘cured.’ In other words, you’re sent home.” She patted the hidden pocket in her bodice. I knew she was waiting for our toilet break so she could sneak a cigarette. “Sometimes, I think a few of them—especially the younger girls—actually believe what he says is true. That they really are crazy.”
“Do you ever wonder why there are only young girls here?” asked Laura. “I mean, it says ‘Lunatic Asylum for Unmanageable Females,’ but you never see any older women.”
“I don’t think anyone stays here long enough to grow up,” Rose said.
Or lives long enough. I thought of the patients Rose mentioned who died from infections after being in the Hold.
“That’s true,” Laura said softly. “Then there are girls you don’t see anymore, not even in the rooms at the end of the hall.”
“Yeah, like Geraldine.” Rose pulled her bangs all the way back over her head, then let them flop forward. Laura peeked around the front of the line, but Nurse Cutter still hadn’t arrived. One look from the cafeteria monitor and Laura jerked herself back into position again.
“What happened to Geraldine?” I asked. I recalled the spirited girl I almost met on my first day at Silver Hill, when I’d listened to her argue with her father and Catron. “Did she go home?”
Laura shook her head. “I only talked to her a few times, but she told me Dr. Catron said she was one of the worst cases. At first, he thought she’d be easy to treat, but it didn’t work out like that. There’s no way they’d send her home.”
“Maybe her family came and picked her up?” I said hopefully.
Rose raised her eyebrows. “Have you seen anybody’s family here since we arrived?”
“I know they’re not allowed, except when the girls are admitted. I guess I thought . . . maybe to pick someone up . . .” My voice drifted off. We were all silent again for a moment. We hadn’t known her well, but Geraldine had disappeared, and no one knew what had happened to her. It put a bad feeling in the pit of one’s stomach.
“I wonder if they shocked her.” My voice was barely audible. I didn’t want to finish with the words “to death.”
“I was shocked just the other day.” Rose shuddered and rubbed her upper arms.
“Rose, no!” I had to fight not to gasp.
Laura nodded. “We didn’t want to tell you right after you came out of solitary. We thought it might upset you.”
“It was horrible.” For once, there wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in Rose’s voice.
I gave a lightning-quick glance towards the cafeteria monitor, but fortune favored us, and her back was turned. I took the opportunity to wrap both arms around Rose.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I said. She leaned her head against my arm, and I felt her shoulders give a little heave. Then I saw the monitor’s head swiveling in our direction, and quickly stopped hugging Rose.
“I think we just have to go along with them, like so many of the girls do,” I said, realizing how much my thinking echoed Dym’s. “Just pretend we’re getting better.”
“And what happens after that?” asked Laura.
“I’m not sure. If you’re sent home,” I pointed at her, “you may be able to contact your aunt Mae, for one thing. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind taking you and Rose in for a bit.”
“But what about you, Seluna? When I get home, do you want me to ask Aunt Mae if you can stay with us, too?”
“That’s okay, Laura. I can look out for myself.”
“But what about your family?” Rose patted her bodice again. She must have really been dying for that cigarette. “How can you go back to live with them if they think you’re crazy?”
I had absolutely no idea. I still hadn’t sorted out my feelings about my family, or confirmed the real reason they sent me here. All I had were conjectures and speculations. “I’ll figure that out when the time comes,” I said. “Don’t either of you worry about me.”
Nurse Cutter had finally arrived to take us to the main hall for exercise. We left the cafeteria in single file, with Cutter at the door. I was the last one to go out, but before I could do so, the enormous woman put her arm in front of my chest.
“Not you,” she said. “You come with me. Dr. Catron wants a word with you.”
Chapter 7
“Se-lu-na, how are you? Did we enjoy solitary confinement?” Dr. Catron’s demeanor was positively congenial. “Did we learn our lesson?”
I sat on the uncomfortable chair facing Catron’s desk and tried to resist the urge to strangle him. “If the lesson was how to survive on one bowl of porridge a day and no baths, then consider it learned,” I said.
Catron shook his head and placed his long, elegant fingers on either side of his armchair. “I expected better of you, Seluna. I thought a brief spell alone might clear your mind. Now,” his voice hardened, “would you care to tell me what you were really doing in my office last week?”
I looked him straight in the eye. “I wasn’t in your office. I was just at the door. And like I said, I thought it
was the broom closet.”
“Where you were looking for supplies to mop up a spill that had already been dealt with?”
I gritted my teeth. “Obviously, that news had not yet reached me.”
For a few moments, Catron said nothing. Finally, he sighed. “You’re really sticking with that story, aren’t you?”
“I told you, it’s not a story.”
“As you wish. You are certainly one of the most fascinating cases of my career. I can see now that I’ll have to find more . . . appropriate strategies to address your condition.”
My condition? Which was what, exactly?
“I’m surprised you didn’t try to shock me like you did Rose and Laura,” I said boldly. “What with my condition being so horrendous and all.”
“That remains an option for the future.” Catron returned my stare. “Though such therapy is not effective for everyone. Sometimes, we don’t use it on cases we feel are too advanced.”
“Advanced?”
“It’s like trying to staunch blood flow from a gunshot wound with a napkin.” He put his palms out in a gesture of helplessness. “But don’t think I don’t notice your hesitation, your resistance to treatment. I was so hoping you’d be different than the other patients here.” He looked at me and stroked his smooth chin. “Special, somehow. But regardless, everything we do at Silver Hill has a purpose. I promise that if you cooperate, someday, this pain will be useful.”
“Maybe to you,” I retorted.
Catron smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “You’re a fiery girl, Seluna. We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” He pressed a button on his intercom, but continued looking at me while leaning over it. “Come to my office,” he said. “It’s time to take her back.” Not three minutes later, Nurse Cutter arrived.
“Dr. Catron, I—”
Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection Page 137
