The Garden of Darkness

“Didn’t see what?”


“I’m glad, Clare,” said Ramah drily, “that you’ve started to realize the obvious, but we are still, as always, deeply in need of a plan.”

At that moment, the door opened. Clare was expecting the Master, but it was a very small and frightened looking Dante. He took one look at Clare’s face and stepped backward. A very pissed-off looking Ramah caught his arm.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“Don’t hurt me.”

“Then do something useful.”

He paused. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to tell us everything. I want you to explain why Master isn’t rushing in here and trying to cure Clare.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Dante, and he burst into tears. Ramah took him by the shoulders and shook until he stopped.

“Explain. Now.”

“Master doesn’t really have a cure.”

“Then why are you all here?” asked Jem. “What’s the point of all this?”

“Master cares for us. He takes good care of us; he can’t help it that when we get older the Pest blooms, and then we die. But we don’t tell children about that when they first come in. They get used to it here, and then they stay. And it’s a haven here. You’ve seen the outside world. What difference does it make if there’s no cure?”

“A lot,” said Jem. “It makes a lot of difference.”

“That’s why he wants to match up children so young,” said Dante. “So that, when there’re enough of us, we can breed a new, young world. He’s going to be careful who he selects; he wants survivors.”

“Blue-eyed survivors,” gasped Clare.

“You know an awful lot,” said Ramah to Dante.

“I’m not stupid,” said Dante.

“You’re stupid and spineless,” said Ramah.

Clare was impressed. Not much got to Ramah.

“I listen to things,” said Dante. “And Master tells the kids who’ve been here awhile some of the facts. Not the facts about the blood; I figured a lot of that out on my own. From what Britta told me.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Jem. “What about the blood? What blood?”

Dante cringed. “He likes it. Blood. From the blue-eyed ones. I saw him with Eliza once; she’d cut her hand in the kitchen.”

“You are kidding me,” said Jem.

“He kills them, doesn’t he?” said Ramah.

“Yes,” whispered Dante.

“I can’t believe Britta told you this,” said Jem.

“Master trusts her absolutely completely totally—and she’d do anything for him. But she still told me a lot; see, she likes me. And she shows off.”

“Both you and Britta have brown eyes,” said Clare thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” said Dante. “Master’ll never match us up. Thankfully. Britta likes me, but I don’t like Britta.”

“Lordy,” said Clare. “It’s like high school.”

“Tell us what you know,” said Jem.

“The blue-eyed girl children are different,” said Dante. “Master told Britta that their recessive gene blood keeps him alive, but that, as a cure, it won’t work on children. Just on him.”

“He drinks their blood?” said Jem. “He kills them because they have blue eyes?”

“Not all of them,” said Dante. “Some live. He wants to match them up. Until there are as many blue-eyed children as he needs. It’s scientific.”

“And you believe his little excuse for murder.” Ramah’s contempt was crushing.

“Well, he’s alive,” said Dante.

“He’s alive because he’s a Cured, you idiot,” said Ramah. “He wears the patch. That blue-eyed-blood-is-a-cure stuff is nonsense. He just likes killing blue-eyed children.”

“I bet he’s obsessed with Clare,” said Dante. “I bet Clare’s eyes are in a different category from anything he’s ever, ever seen. I mean, who’s seen a blue like that? They’re—”

“Shut up,” said Jem.

“It’s a good life here. Even for the blue-eyed ones. For a while.”

“No,” Jem said. “It’s not.”

“We need Bear,” Clare said. It was bizarre to feel so normal when she knew she was dying. The relapse was in the shadows, waiting, but she still had a little time.

“Britta locked your dog in the courtyard,” said Dante.

“Is there anything else you’re forgetting to tell us?” asked Ramah. “Because it would give me great pleasure to hit you.”

“I’m sorry, Ramah. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Go and find out what the Master’s up to,” said Ramah. “Then come back. Quickly.” Dante left the room, but not without casting a curious glance at Clare.

“Your eyes are really blue,” he said. “I’m sorry you have Pest.”

“Get out of here,” said Jem.

Nobody said anything as he left. Finally Clare broke the silence.

“He’s sweet on you, Ramah.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s still sweet on you. Really. Trust me. In high school I was an expert.”

“I’m ten.”

“So’s he. But maybe he can get you and Jem out of here.”