by Anya Allyn
I woke at eight. Philomena sat on the floor, staring into space.
When the tea came around, Aisha, Sophronia and I had to force ourselves not to drink it. My body screamed at me, sent waves of raw panic through me, ached for sustenance. We let Philly have her tea—whatever happened next, she was better off not seeing it, and better off not to suffer starvation awake.
I kissed Philomena as I put her into the bed next to Missouri’s. She stared back at me with small dulled eyes—not the eyes of a child. I stayed with her until she succumbed to sleep, then headed for the ballroom.
An ushering sound echoed above somewhere. I stepped out to the corridor. A blackness eddied across the ceiling, clinging and dripping like blood along the rock surface.
The shadow. It was barely trying to conceal itself.
It slithered along the ceiling—up the passage to the bed chamber.
“No!” I cried out.
Jessamine appeared at the entrance to the bed chamber, her arms tightly at her side.
The shadow writhed, turning back and vanishing into The Dark Way.
Jessamine slumped against the wall.
Aisha stood in the passage beside me—her fear mirroring mine. “If we take away all of Jessamine’s energy, what will she have left to defend against the shadow?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know.”
A guttural roar came from behind me.
Sophronia charged with a poker held over her head—eyes flashing, black hair flying—straight at Jessamine.
Jessamine’s mouth dropped, quivering. She stared upwards as Sophronia advanced, raising an arm over her head.
“We have to do it—now.” My voice was calm.
Aisha eyed the direction of The Dark Passage. “But that thing is in there now.”
“We have to trust Sophronia. It’s been started.”
We raced to the chill air of the passage. Blackness enveloped us—our ragged breaths echoing.
In the distance, the inhuman sounds of the shadow vibrated.
Aisha shone her torch ahead. The light bounced from a solid surface.
Turning back to me, her mouth formed the word, how?
I ran my palm over the wall, finding the same section Jessamine had pressed.
With a grinding sound, the hidden doorway opened up.
We ran down the passage.
Aisha was with me this time, but I was still so alone in here.
I felt the presence of the shadow, thick in the air. I had to believe it couldn’t hurt us—yet. I had to keep my trust in Sophronia's sight.
I shone my torch in the direction of the statue. Aisha stepped over to the angel, reaching to touch the glass in its eyes and mouth. “They're diamonds, I think.”
Pulling the locket out, I placed it on the statue's outstretched hand.
A coldness whipped around my shoulders.
I turned.
Jessamine stood behind us—her eyes hard and glittering. She advanced towards us. Her feet barely touched the ground. “How dare you intrude unbidden into the sacred space.”
Gazing downwards, her gaze found the locket. A tortured cry wrenched itself from her lungs, and she fell to her knees.
“Run!” Aisha screamed, pulling my arm.
We tore down the passage. Jessamine’s cries echoed around the surfaces of rock. Sprinting through the darkness, I felt the shadow move around me, through me.
Ahead, things rushed towards us. With arms over our heads, we crouched on the rock floor. An army of books swarmed overhead, crashing into the walls. We crawled to the end of the passage. Swirls of papers flew in the air—desks moving out to the passageway. Raggedy Ann and the bear lay prone on the ground.
My legs were leaden. She was trying to kill us.
The sound of metal slamming into rock sounded up ahead.
The cells.
The cells were open.
Ethan’s wiry figure appeared in the passage—every muscle straining. Sophronia limped out of her cell, staring at us with huge eyes.
“Go!” Aisha and I roared in unison.
The maelstrom of splintered desks and papers rounded the bend behind us. Charging into the bed chamber, I lifted Philomena from the bed.
Missouri slept a deathly pale sleep.
I bent down to her for a moment. “I’ll come back.”
I ducked a flying desk as I exited the chamber.
Above the clamor, a tinny sound rose.
The carousel.
We rushed to it.
Ethan swung an arm around Sophronia, helping her onboard.
I placed Philly on a chariot, still sleeping. Ethan turned to grip Aisha’s hand as she leapt onto a dragon. Aisha’s pale eyes were unblinking.
Shattered wood and paper stormed in the air. Behind us, the chandelier spun down the corridor—Aisha turning her face and body into Ethan's shoulder. The chandelier whirled crazily in the air, then swooped in and crunched heavily against Aisha's thigh. She screamed. Ethan leapt across to heave the thing from the carousel.
A grinding started beneath our feet. A tiny red light lit up on the center column. Then more lights, green and red—up and down—twinkling. I tightened my grip on the unicorn, breath quickening and hurting my chest.
The carousel lumbered clockwise. Darkness closed over me as the carousel turned.
I was on the other side.
We were on the other side.
Taking Philly from the chariot, I jumped from the platform—Sophronia following more cautiously. Ethan helped Aisha down from the platform.
The carousel stopped dead.
Once free of the carousel, we fled.
The weight of Philly dragged on me as I ran. She woke, whimpering into my shoulder.
“Are we in The Dark Way?”
“No, Philly. We’re on our way to the sun and the flowers. Not long to go.”
27. ALL MY BLOOD
Sophronia closed a hand around Philly’s for a moment, giving her a tight smile. We made our way along the passage as it wound upwards.
Aisha’s torchlight hit the round wooden door. She and Sophronia gasped. I realized neither of them had seen anything of their underground prison except for the dollhouse. Both had been brought in unconscious.
Ethan pulled a large kitchen knife and a meat cleaver from his pockets. He jammed them between the wood and rock wall, desperately trying to budge the door.
Sophronia stepped forward quietly, reaching into her collar. She pulled out a long metal object from her dress. It was the poker she'd used to attack Jessamine. With outstretched arms, she handed it to Ethan.
Ethan gazed at her—a half-smile forming on his face. He took the poker, weighing it in his hands.
Wedging the poker in the space between the door and rock, he attempted to force the door open. The wood groaned. Grunting, he bore down on the poker. A sharp triangle of wood broke away. He hacked at the wood, hitting the door over and over with the metal rod. Large lengths of wood splintered and fell away from the door.
The space in the door was almost large enough to fit through. Ethan slammed the poker at the door again.
A piece of wood rattled to the ground. On the wood was the inscription I’d seen before, the first time I’d seen the door. Out of this wood do not desire to go, Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
With the poker above his shoulder, Ethan jutted the poker into the wood. The poker crashed through, bouncing off something hard, something metal.
Frowning, Ethan turned back to me. “There wasn’t something metal in front of this before, was there?”
I shook my head. “No, just the wheel.”
Moving closer, I trained my torchlight into and beyond the jagged hole in the door. About two foot in front of the wooden door, stood a metal surface. I wriggled into the space, shining my torch all over the strange blockage.
Air sucked from my lungs.
The surface of the metal entirely blocked the passageway—floor to ceiling. It had been made in piece
s, and welded and bolted into place. I stared at Ethan, giving him the torch.
Ethan stuck his head in.
“No, no, no, no, no!” His voice spun against the metal surfaces of the wall.
“What is it?” Aisha shrieked.
“Henry... has walled us in.” Stepping out of the space, I crouched to the floor with my arms around my knees. Like a child. Everything within me screamed to run past the wall, to get out of here. But there was no way of getting through.
Sophronia limped to the wall beside me. She sat herself down, pulling Philomena onto her lap. Aisha followed, sitting with us.
Ethan let out a strangled cry. He demolished the rest of the wooden door in a frenzy—then kicked at the metal wall over and over.
Exhausted, he knelt breathing hard into the floor, bending his head down to his hands.
Minutes bled away.
There had been no way out—right from the first day I'd came down here. I understood that now. Before, there had at least been a hope—the hope that the world stood on the other side of the carousel.
Behind us, away in the distance, the tinny music of the carousel rang in the dark air.
“She wants us to come back.” Philomena’s voice was small, afraid.
I had nothing to give her—not even a word of hope.
“We got this far,” said Aisha in a dead tone. “I’m not going back. I can't go back.” Her fingers moved awkwardly to pull away her shredded dress from her thigh. A cut gashed her leg from thigh-bone to knee.
“Oh God...." I clamped my hand over my mouth.
Ethan pulled his shirt from his back, moving to wrap it around Aisha's leg. Blood seeped into the white material. I lifted my dress over my head. Ethan and I rushed to rip it into lengths—Ethan winding the lengths over the bandage he'd already made.
We sat in heavy silence—a silence that thickened and suffocated the air.
A grittiness entered my head, like it was filling with sand. Cold gripped me.
Could we go back?
There was no food left in the dollhouse. No warmth except for damp, mildewed blankets. Nothing worth going back for.
Except Missouri.
Except the tea.
If we go back—Jessamine might well kill us.
But to stay here and slowly starve to death, in the darkness after the torches gave out, seemed infinitely worse. And it would be unbearable to watch Philly suffer it all.
I stood.
Sophronia stared up at me with an intense gaze—a gaze that melted away, pulled inwards. She settled Philomena's head against her chest, and made a slow, single nod at me—a nod that told me, this is our time to die.
“We forgot to have a nice sleep before we go on our journey,” she told Philly.
Philomena stared round-eyed at Sophronia at hearing her talk.
I bent to take Philly from her. The little girl clung to me so fiercely it hurt my ribs.
Aisha's eyes closed for a moment, her face deathly pale. “It’s too dangerous,” she said finally. Her eyes opened dully then—as aware as I was that the word dangerous had lost all meaning. She held out a hand to Ethan. Breaths strained heavily through his nostrils, as though every inch of him rebelled against ever going back. He moved to place his arms around her, and she rose painfully to her feet.
We made our way down the long path back to the carousel. My legs shook as I lifted myself and Philly onto the unicorn. Aisha and Sophronia limped to a chariot. Ethan sat astride the gargoyle. The carousel spun slowly anticlockwise.
“It's a game,” I whispered in Philly's ear. We have to find our way to the bed chamber without being able to see.”
I slid my hands over her eyes as the carousel shuddered to a stop. Debris lay scattered and broken through the passageway. We picked our way through it. Aisha moaned softly at the sight of the chandelier—it lolled upturned against the wall.
The narrow crevice of the bed chamber was an ugly eye in the wall—even more terrifying than it had been the first time I had seen it. Inside, Missouri was an inanimate doll, the way she'd seemed the first time I'd seen her.
I guided Philly inside the chamber, and into her bed next to Missouri's. She opened her eyes with a start. “I want to go to the flowers.” Her eyes were bright and watery as she settled and crossed her arms across her chest.
“You will. I promise.”
Aisha swung her bandaged leg onto the bed, and leant back, breathing hard. Ethan bent his head down to hers.
“I will make the tea.” Sophronia stood behind us. “We cannot wait very long.”
She stepped away into the kitchen. I watched as she dropped cube after cube of the dark substance that Jessamine called tea into the teapot—a hundred measures more than usual.
28. REQUIEM
Wind shrieked down the corridor as we returned to the bed chamber. Ethan turned to stare at me. “We need to find out where that's coming from. There's always been drafts before, but not this.”
“No. Sophronia's right. We can't wait.”
“I'm going.”
I shot Sophronia a pleading look. “Please, give us a moment.”
Aisha’s mouth pulled into a tight line as she gazed from me to Ethan. “Promise me you’ll come back.” Her jaw clenched. “Promise me.”
Sophronia stood in the corridor watching silently as Ethan and I ran down towards the ballroom.
Around the next corner, the dolls still lay on the floor. Cautiously, we edged towards the ballroom. Nothing was left untouched. Every book and toy was gone from its place on the shelves. Sophronia’s needlepoint forest scene lay curled at my feet. In a shadowed corner, the rocking chair creaked slowly to and fro.
“We should go back,” I whispered, my voice as dry as autumn leaves.
He shook his head. “You can.”
Teeth clenched, I followed Ethan down to The Dark Way. Flicking our torches on, we stepped into the clawing darkness. The shadow of the serpent was here all around us.
Ethan ran forward, dragging me by the hand. The passage seemed longer... far longer than it had before. Time dripped away—time spent alive. Every second sent death further away, maybe so far we could no longer choose when or how we died.
The secret door remained ajar. Ethan whistled under his breath when he caught sight of the hidden passage. We slipped through it.
Wind howled in from an unseen source. I shone the torch upwards around the ceiling and down again. The red velvet curtains had been torn away. The statue lay smashed to pieces on the ground. I raised my eyes to the space where the statue had been. A large hole gaped.
My legs shook. The space was crammed with hessian bags. I looked back at Ethan. Terrible thoughts crowded my head. Were the bags filled with the dead?
But his eyes were intent. “The inheritance...."
Rushing forward, he tried to dislodge a bag, cutting into it fiercely with his knife. Dirt plumed in the air. Shining clear objects spilled to the ground, clattering on the rock.
My heart stilled.
He cut open another bag. Dark pebbles of gold fell free.
“You... you knew these were here?” I backed away. “What did you mean… an inheritance?"
He crouched to the floor, scooping handfuls of gold and diamonds in his pockets. “We don’t have time for explanations."
"But if you knew about all of this… then you knew about the underground, even before you came here with me and Lacey. I don't understand…."
Avoiding my gaze, he stood. "I’m going now, to try to find something to blast through that metal door. Or die trying.”
"You were never going to take the tea… were you?" My voice leaden.
"No."
He stared beyond me—to the hole where the hessian bags were piled up. Something teetered at the edge—and fell.
He stared beyond me—to the hole where the hessian bags were piled up. Something teetered at the edge—and fell.
A bundle of bones now lay on top of the scattered nuggets and diamonds—tatte
red bits of dark material sticking to the limbs and ribcage. The skeleton was a little smaller than Prudence’s. Around the neck was a blackened chain that might have once been gold—a broken clasp where something had broken off.
Jessamine.
Did she die in there—in that terrible place? She had said she woke up in a strange place.
Ethan pulled my hand. “Cassie, come with me. Now....” His voice was pleading, strangled.
I tore my hand away, turned away from him.
He ran—back down the passage.
I was alone.
Kneeling, my head slumped on my shoulders. My mind was freezing over.
Something blacker than the air inched around me, layering itself on my skin like plastic. Suffocating me. It whispered to me, but the words were underneath everything—words spoken at the bottom of a deep pool.
The words echoed a deep, biting longing. The shadow hooked tiny barbs into me, everywhere. It told me I wouldn’t feel it for long—told me it wouldn’t hurt for much longer. If I just gave into it, it would be over soon. I just needed to give myself to it. That was all. Forget the others. Take my pain away... .
I sensed a presence behind me. I turned, preparing to face the serpent.
Jessamine stood behind me, head lowered.
The shadow fled my body.
“I tried to keep you all safe. But still, you chose to leave.”
My body collapsed forward. I steadied myself on hands and knees. Gradually, I pulled myself to my feet.
“Jessamine, there is no food left. What did you want us to do? Die?” I gazed downwards at the skeleton.
She stared trembling at the bones. “Henry says there are different planes of existence.”
“Did he put you in there?”
“Why would he do such a thing? Of course not.”
“Then why were you in that place?” I shivered as icy wind ate into my face.
“I was playing—just playing an awfully fun game of hide and seek. And I got stuck.”
I lifted my eyes to the fissure in the wall. Wind. If there was wind, could there be a passage beyond the hessian bags? My spine filled with cold, wet cement. “Where does it go?”
Her expression darkened. “I crawled through it after I woke in there. It’s quite nasty. You mustn’t go through to the end—you must never do that.”