The Dark Hills Divide

by Patrick Carman

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, blood oozing down my arm. Then I realized I’d left the map I’d drawn sitting on the windowsill, and I moved between it and Grayson to block it from view. “I guess he was just in a bad mood today,” I said.

  “Let me take a look, make sure you’re not going to bleed to death.” Grayson took my hand and moved into the light at the windowsill. I stammered a little but couldn’t find the right words to stop him. “Calm down,” said Grayson, and then he was examining my hand in the warm light, turning it and dabbing it with his handkerchief.

  “I think you’ll be all right,” he said. “It’s actually not so bad, only looks terrible. Best thing for it is to leave it out in the open so it can scab over. In a few days, you will hardly notice it except for the itching.”

  Then he let my hand go, gave me a long, solemn look, and said, “I have a hankering for some more strawberry jam on biscuits. How about you join me for a stroll down to the kitchen?”

  With a faint smile I nodded, and we began to walk toward the front of the library. At least we were away from my drawing. I just hoped nobody would find it while I was gone.

  We walked the aisles of books, stopping here and there to fix up a shelf, a habit both Grayson and I had acquired from spending so much time wandering in the library.

  “By the way,” said Grayson, “that’s a mighty nice map of the library you did. Very impressive.”

  “What did you say?” I asked, trying to keep calm.

  “Your drawing on the windowsill back there. It must have taken you quite a while to figure out how this place winds around. I think you got close — at least it looked good from what little I saw.”

  My hands were trembling now.

  “Are you all right, Alexa? Maybe we should pay a visit to a real doctor and make sure that hand is okay. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  I looked up at Grayson with a big smile. “No, I’m just so excited to try those biscuits and strawberry jam I can hardly wait.” I began pulling Grayson down the row of books toward the kitchen. I had to distract him, and heading in the direction of food was definitely the best way to do it.

  CHAPTER 9

  ALONE IN BRIDEWELL

  I wasn’t ready to go searching around the library when I returned later with Grayson, so I retrieved the map and ran to my room. I stayed alone for a while and thought about what I would do next, then I went to the kitchen for dinner. When I returned to my room I sat on my windowsill, folded my arms around my knees, and gazed into the misty orange glow of the sunset. The evening breeze was a welcome change from the smoldering heat of the day. I had Warvold’s silver key in one hand, my drawing of the etching in the Jocasta fluttering back and forth in the other. An hour later the orange sunset had turned to black night and I lurched out of the windowsill, crossed the room, and sat down on my bed.

  I had a fitful night of sleep fraught with dreams of Pervis Kotcher’s head bobbing grotesquely atop a cat’s body, chasing me from room to room around the lodge. In the morning I awoke, dressed, and went to the kitchen. It was already hot, and the light breeze had completely disappeared. The sun would stoke Bridewell like a furnace all morning and bring it to a staggering boil by midday. I wondered how it might feel beneath the tall trees outside the wall on the cool forest floor.

  Breakfast was buzzing more than usual. Grayson showed up for more strawberry preserves, this time on pancakes. Ganesh, my father, and Nicolas were in a debate over land use and expansion between Lunenburg and Ainsworth. Silas had returned from Lathbury earlier in the morning and was busy putting the finishing touches on a plate filled with toast, biscuits, and hotcakes, all covered with thick red jam, no doubt on advice from Grayson.

  I poked Silas in the ribs from behind and greeted him. “Back so soon? I thought you would be gone at least another day.”

  Both he and Grayson turned in my direction. “You know those old horses of mine, they would rather ride in the dark than in the heat of the day,” said Silas, and then he looked at me with a squinted eye. “If you tell them I said that, I’ll glue your shoes together.”

  “I see you’ve discovered the fresh strawberry jam,” I said. “Grayson is guzzling it by the gallon. I think he’s a bear dressed up like a man, getting an early start on hibernation.”

  Grayson, a familiar red bead circling his thick mustache, raised one eyebrow at me and put an entire pancake slathered with jam into his mouth in one bite. It was disgusting.

  “Any word from my mother?” I said, hoping the answer was no.

  “I waited as long as I could, but she was out when I arrived. I did leave your letter and a note that I would return in a few days if she had anything for you or your father. I’m sure she will send it along.”

  Relieved, I drifted over to the buffet and filled a plate with food. Then I sat down next to my father. Nicolas was talking, and he was right in the middle of making a point.

  “… I tell you, if you don’t pay attention to Ainsworth, they will one day rule Bridewell. We must expand Lunenburg northwest toward them before they sprawl too far. I know they seem friendly now, but I don’t trust them, and neither did my father.”

  I received a warm good morning from Father, Ganesh, and Nicolas, and then they continued on, Father with his hand on my shoulder. It felt good to have his arm around me.

  This kind of conversation was called fishing. Whenever Father and Ganesh were looking for opinions from everyday folks about issues of the day, they would float the topic out like fish bait and see which point of view caused the hook to be swallowed whole. Obviously, they had initiated Nicolas into this tactic as well, since he had thrown out the first line.

  “I could not disagree more,” said Ganesh, my father giving me a hidden wink. “If we build toward them they’ll see it as hostile and we’ll be pulled into a confrontation. Now, I agree that we’ve got to expand — these last few days in Bridewell have clearly shown that. Within a few years Bridewell and the towns against the sea will be at maximum capacity, and then what will we do? We have over ten miles between us and Ainsworth, which I think is a good healthy distance. We can’t expand off the cliffs from Lathbury or Turlock, so those are dead ends. Bridewell is stuck in the middle with no place to grow. I think our best option is to start building two-and three-story buildings. Grow up instead of out. We could grow to twice our size if we just abolished the single-level rule.”

  “That’s an extremely bad idea.” It was Pervis, who had quietly arrived at the dining room entryway unnoticed. He was leaning against the wall, hands crossed over his chest.

  “Why aren’t you out protecting us all from the bogeyman?” said my father. It gave me the creeps when he said it, but everyone else seemed to think it was funny.

  “Laugh all you want, but I’m telling you, building higher is a dangerous idea. It exposes us to the outside and makes us vulnerable,” said Pervis. “And once people start spending all their free time looking for strange things outside the wall, you’ll have an even bigger problem. Get common folks curious, and you might as well set Bridewell on a barrel of gunpowder.”

  He was at the buffet now, loading up on eggs. I didn’t like where he was taking the conversation.

  “Take Alexa, for instance,” Pervis continued. “We give her the only room in Bridewell that has a window with a teensy view over the wall. She’s only a child, and we assume a child is timid and afraid. What interest would a child have in the outside? But even sweet little Alexa here figured out that if she stands in the sill she can get a little taste of what’s out there. And then what does she do?”

  Here it came — I knew I was as good as grounded for the rest of my life.

  “She brings a spyglass to Bridewell and parks herself up in that sill looking for who knows what. A spyglass. Those things have been banned in Bridewell for as long as I can remember. Or did you all have a change of heart and forget to tell old Pervis about it?”

  I wished I’d skipped breakfast and gone straigh
t to the library. I expected Father to recoil, to take his arm from around my tiny shoulder. He would have had every right. Instead he gripped my scrawny arm tightly in his big hand and pulled me closer. He reached over with his fork and stole some eggs off my plate, chewing them with deliberate slowness. The room was silent.

  “Mr. Kotcher,” said my father. “How much longer do you think Ganesh and I will be around?”

  I’d seen my father like this before. His tone had changed ever so slightly, but it signified to everyone in the room that his claws were out.

  “I really don’t have the faintest idea, sir,” said Pervis, staring him down.

  Father rose and stood behind me with one hand on each of my shoulders, his firm grip unwavering.

  “Take a close look at this girl. She’s becoming a young lady, and in a few summers, she’ll be a young woman. The day is coming soon when she will be part of the ruling council. She will have her opinions heard; she will be listened to. Unless Ganesh gets with it and has some children soon, Alexa will be running this place with Nicolas before long. She won’t need me to come to her defense, and it will be her choice what rank you enjoy, or whether you remain here at all. You would do well to consider these things before opening up your mouth in a crowded room again.”

  My father sat back down and resumed eating from his plate. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Kotcher?” he asked.

  I think Pervis and I both understood for the first time in our lives that one day I would have authority over him. He wasted no time in trying to defend himself. “But that girl is a troublemaker. Mark my words, Daley, she’ll put us in a dangerous situation and bring us all down. I don’t know how or when, but she will endanger us.” He scanned the room for support, but everyone was either looking down at his food or glaring back at him.

  “I will not bother her again,” Pervis continued. “But not because I care about the absurdity of a future with her in charge. If I’m not here to run the guards, this place will be totally vulnerable. I’ve taken an oath to protect Bridewell, and putting my tail between my legs to suit your ego and your spoiled child is fine by me. So long as Bridewell is safe, that’s all I care about.” He turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

  Grayson was halfway to the library before Pervis was even out of the dining area. The rest of the group started talking again and milling around.

  “Would you all mind if Alexa and I excused ourselves?” Father said, walking with me out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door. We walked for a long time, and neither of us said a thing.

  Eventually the silence took its toll on me, and I gave in with a shower of words.

  “I’ve already written to Mother and told her I took the spyglass, but she hasn’t responded. I know I shouldn’t have taken it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just wanted a glimpse of what might be out there.”

  “Calm down, Alexa,” Father said. He took my hand, and we walked to the center of town and sat on a bench.

  “Warvold is gone, Alexa. I don’t think anyone realizes how significant that is. Ganesh, Nicolas, and I, we’re good leaders, but we’re not Warvold. He built this place, and he had his own secret reasons for doing it. He knew a lot more about many things than he told us.”

  Father scanned the courtyard again before continuing. “We’re already feeling pressure from Ainsworth to do things we don’t want to do. They’re testing our resolve now that Warvold is gone. And it’s no secret that Pervis is getting further out of control at a time when we need his leadership.” Father leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and began picking at his fingernails.

  “Warvold talked about you all the time, about your obvious interest in the outside and how smart you were for your age. He saw a lot of the adventurer he once was in you, and he mentioned more than once how unfortunate it was that you were locked inside the walls he built. He understood why you liked to sneak around by yourself.”

  He paused and turned to look at me. “Did he tell you anything that night when he died?” It was an accusing question, and it startled me.

  “No, nothing important,” I said. “He acted very strange, though. He reminisced about the past and told me a silly fable about blind men, but that was all.”

  My father watched me carefully as I spoke, trying to see if I was telling the truth or not. He didn’t ask about the key, and I didn’t tell. It was too precious to give up without being asked about it directly. He sighed deeply, went back to picking his nails, and continued.

  “People are worried down in Turlock, and they want me and Ganesh to make a visit. We’re leaving this morning, and we’ll be gone for two days. I know it’s sudden, but these are troubled times and we’re trying to keep things under control. I’ll give Pervis a leave in Lunenburg while we’re gone so you won’t kill each other.” He paused again and looked at me, his eyes warning me not to be a nuisance while he was gone. “I’ve spoken to Grayson, and he will look after you. Can I count on you to stay out of trouble, at least until I get back?”

  I chose my reply carefully. “I’ve already had enough trouble for one visit to Bridewell.”

  My answer seemed to satisfy him. We stood and hugged briefly, then he started to walk away from me toward Renny Lodge. A moment later he was gone, and I stood alone at the center of town, the walls of Bridewell towering all around me.

  Somehow I felt more like a prisoner than I had before.

  CHAPTER 10

  CABEZA DE VACA

  It was nine in the morning when I left my room for the second time that day. I wore a leather pouch around my neck. In it, I placed the map, the key, and my pocketknife. My mother had brought me a sweater during the funeral, which I tied around my waist. I took nothing else with me, thinking even if I was lucky I would be gone for only a few hours.

  When I arrived in the library I removed the map and began searching for a starting place. It was much more difficult than I thought it would be to decipher the locations. The map showed only the winding paths, no sign of doors, walls, or windows. From my low vantage point I could not see what the pattern looked like. It was clear only that the mountain on the map was along one of the four edges of the large room. It struck me as odd that Grayson would understand the map at first glance as he had, but then he had been in the library day in and day out for years and years, and had walked each aisle thousands of times. I visited only a few days a year, and I was thoroughly confused.

  Every time I started down a twisting aisle of books that seemed to look like one on the map, it turned out to be a different path altogether. It was almost as if the map were changing as I was looking at it. I turned it every which way, started from different walls and entryways, but all my effort led me around in circles.

  After an hour I wandered into Grayson’s office to see if he would make a midmorning run to the kitchen with me. He was hunkered down over a beautiful green-and-yellow book, using gold-leaf paint to fill in some missing spots on the cover. My stomach rumbled, and he looked up from his work.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said, and we meandered down the hall together, making small talk. We were mostly quiet as we sat in the kitchen drinking cold milk and eating strawberry jam on buns, and then I removed the map and set it on the table.

  “See if you can guess where my favorite chair is on this map,” I said, hoping for some insight that would help me find my way.

  I turned the map toward Grayson, and he looked at it thoughtfully. He seemed to be having as much trouble as I was at first, then his brows went up. In his haste, he used a jammy index finger to poke where he thought my chair would be. It left a sticky red spot on an otherwise clean map, and he apologized, but I didn’t mind. Grayson had just put a giant red dot by the mountain. Now that I saw it, everything shifted into place on the map. I realized where Grayson’s office and the doors into the library were, along with the windows and the rolling pathways of books. It all made sense.

  I could tell Grayson was likely to eat a lot mor
e food and take his time getting back to work, so it was the perfect opportunity to duck out. “Thanks for the company, Grayson,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you later.” As I stood to go, I added, “I’m going to be busy with something for the next few days, so if you don’t see me there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Grayson nodded and I walked out of the kitchen, which was about what I had expected. In all the years I had been coming to Bridewell, my father had never thought to investigate what sort of chaperone Grayson was. In times past when my father left for one or two days, he would always ask Grayson to take care of me, and Grayson was always happy to do it. Only Grayson never adjusted his behavior after the request. I’d see him in the library … or maybe I wouldn’t. If I didn’t cross his path for an entire day and night, Grayson thought nothing of it. After all, how far could I go?

  I ran back to the library and zigzagged my way through the maze of aisles. Rounding a sharp corner, I bumped my shoulder on a bookcase and nearly sent rows of books crashing to the floor. I steadied the teetering shelf and continued on, my run toned down to a brisk walk. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my favorite old chair. A hawk sat outside the windowsill and did not stir as I came into view. Then both cats were on the chair, watching me intently. It was weird how all three remained still and alert, following my every move.

  I started by feeling along the wall and the sill, and then on the shelves near the chair, which were covered with books. I felt every nook and dimple carefully and pulled out a lot of old books I’d looked at before. I began to think that maybe a certain one might trigger a secret passage or reveal a hidden treasure. Before long, I had taken almost all the books out and placed them in teetering piles around me. This exercise produced a lot of dust but nothing of any interest, although the cats did enjoy chasing each other around and darting between stacks.