This whole place looks…wild. It doesn’t make any sense. We’re still underground, I’m sure of it. How can such a wild place be in the middle of a dungeon?
As my feet leave the grass and step onto the vines and creepers, I get the feeling that someone is watching. I turn quickly; out in the grass, Bishop is staring at me. I expect his face to flush red because I caught him looking, but instead he smiles. I feel tingly. He should be embarrassed, but I’m the one that gets a hot face and has to turn away.
A pain in my lower parts reminds me I still have to pee, have to pee bad. I need to find a place where no one can watch.
I follow Bello into the woods. It isn’t dark in here, because a bit of light filters through the leaves, yet the shadows are plentiful and deep.
We weave around tree trunks, edge past bushes, trying to make sure no one can see us. Branches catch on my shirt; I move gently, and they slide free. The dead leaves are thick, a soft mat that can’t completely protect me from the broken sticks poking my feet. This underbrush is dense. I’m glad the circle-stars come through here, as Bello said, because this looks like a good spot for pigs to hide. If we stay in the Garden much longer, I’ll make sure we find a better place to do our business.
Bello moves a little to the right; I go a little to the left.
The woods end at a wall. It’s green and lush, the same thick branches that make up the thicket Bishop and I crawled through to get here. At the top of the wall, far higher than I can reach, the arched ceiling begins the sprawling curve that will take it up, away and across.
I slowly reach my hand through the thicket. My shoulder is starting to press against the stems when my fingertips hit cool, damp stone.
Stone, just like all the archway doors, just like the dome room and our coffin room. Maybe the walls aren’t made of stone, maybe the halls and rooms were carved from it. And the way we’re going up and up and up…maybe this whole strange place is inside a mountain.
Something hits me: that walk alongside the pond…that didn’t feel like we were walking uphill. The incline has always been so slight it is barely noticeable, but when Bello and I were walking through the grass, that felt flat.
All this time, I believed that a step up was closer to a step out, but if we really are in a mountain, maybe the way out is actually sideways?
It hurts my head to think about it. I’ll talk to Spingate after I pee. I swear, it feels like I’ve never gone in my whole life.
I’m surrounded by trees and bushes, bathed in shadow. I look around, but don’t see Bello. For the first time since Spingate came out of her coffin, I am alone.
I rest my spear against a tree, slide up my plaid skirt and pull down my underwear. I realize that Bello probably washed those, too. I can’t believe the girls saw me naked! What would my mother say if she—
Movement on my right.
I rush to cover up, thinking one of the boys followed us in here; I relax when I realize it’s only Bello. She’s a little ways away, doing the same thing I’m doing. Through the branches and underbrush, I see her smile a big smile that crinkles her eyes and makes her too-white cheeks rise up high, then she looks away. I can tell that she’s embarrassed, just like I am.
Here in the Garden, Bello is a completely different girl than she was in the endless hallway. Maybe some people are meant to walk up front and face danger, while others are made to walk in back, where it is safe.
Still, I don’t want her to be able to see me doing my business. I scoot a little to my left, putting a tree trunk between us.
Finally, a moment to myself. In that quiet instant, I can hear laughter from our group echoing out across the grass and into the woods. They are happy, they are safe.
I love that sound.
Movement on the right again draws my eye, but this time I don’t look. I’m sure Bello wants her private time as much as I want mine. I hear a branch move, leaves rattle.
Then I hear something else: a muffled scream.
I look around the tree trunk. Through the leaves, I see Bello, see her wide, panicked blue eyes…
…and see something black clamped over her mouth.
She’s yanked backward—Bello vanishes into the underbrush.
TWENTY-SEVEN
I pull up my underwear and grab my spear. I run toward her, screaming as I go.
“Bishop! Help!”
Broken sticks and sharp twigs drive into my feet, but I ignore the pain. I reach the spot: Bello was here seconds ago. I stare at the thick underbrush, unable to see through it. Part of me says, Stop, wait for help, but Bello is in there—something took her.
I have to save my friend.