“That’s because Narnia was a Christian allegory pretending to be a fantasy series, you asshole,” said one of the other boys. “C. S. Lewis never went through any doors. He didn’t know how it worked. He wanted to tell a story, and he’d probably heard about kids like us, and he made shit up. That’s what all those authors did. They made shit up, and people made them famous. We tell the truth, and our parents throw us into this glorified loony bin.”
“We don’t use terms like that here,” said Eleanor. There was steel in her tone. “This is not an asylum, and you are not mad—and so what if you were? This world is unforgiving and cruel to those it judges as even the slightest bit outside the norm. If anyone should be kind, understanding, accepting, loving to their fellow outcasts, it’s you. All of you. You are the guardians of the secrets of the universe, beloved of worlds that most will never dream of, much less see … can’t you see where you owe it to yourselves to be kind? To care for one another? No one outside this room will ever understand what you’ve been through the way the people around you right now understand. This is not your home. I know that better than most. But this is your way station and your sanctuary, and you will treat those around you with respect.”
Both boys wilted under her glare. Christopher looked down. The other boy mumbled, “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. It’s late, and we’re all tired.” Eleanor stood. “Get some sleep, all of you. I know it won’t be easy. Nancy, can you—”
“I already said I’d room with her tonight,” said Kade. A wave of relief washed over Nancy. She’d been afraid she would have to go to another room, and while she hadn’t been there long, she was already attached to the familiarity of her own bed.
Eleanor looked at Kade thoughtfully. “Are you sure? I was going to suggest she room with someone on her hall, and that you lock your door tonight. This is a great imposition.”
“No, it’s fine. I volunteered.” Kade flashed a quick smile. “I like Nancy, and she was Sumi’s friend. I figure a little stability will do her good, and that makes any inconvenience to me completely beside the point. I want to help. This is my home.” He looked slowly around the room. “My forever home. I turned eighteen last month, my parents don’t want me, and the Prism wouldn’t have me back even if I wanted to go. So it’s important to me that we take care of this place, because it’s been taking care of all of us since the day we got here.”
“Go to bed, my darlings,” said Eleanor. “This will all look better in the morning.”
*
THE BODY LAY in the front yard, covered in a thin sheen of dew, face turned up toward the uncaring sky. The dead were capable of sight, as Nancy would have been quick to point out had she been asked, but this body saw nothing, for it had no eyes, only black and blood-rimmed holes where eyes had once been. Its hands were folded neatly on its chest, glasses clutched in cooling fingers. Loriel Youngers would never find her door (which had been waiting for her all this time, tucked into a corner of her bedroom at home, half an inch high and held in place by the most complicated magics the Queen of Dust, her adopted mother, could conceive; it would linger another six months before the spells were released and the Queen took to her chambers for a year of mourning). She would never have another grand adventure or save another world. Her part in the story was over.
She lay there, unmoving, as the sun rose and the stars winked out. A crow landed on the grass near her leg, watching her warily. When she still didn’t move, it hopped on her knee, waiting for the trap to spring. When she still didn’t move, it launched itself into the air and flew the few short feet to her head, where it promptly buried its beak in the bloody hole that had been her left eye.
Angela—she of the dissected guinea pig, whose enchanted sneakers had once allowed her to run on rainbows—was just stepping out onto the porch, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and intending to scold her roommate for sneaking out when they were supposed to stay together. Sometimes Loriel couldn’t keep her eyes closed long enough to fall asleep, and then she had a tendency to roam the grounds, looking for her missing door. It wasn’t unusual to find her dozing on the lawn. At first, Angela’s mind refused to register Loriel’s motionless body as anything unusual.
Then the crow pulled its bloody beak out of her eye socket and cawed at Angela, angrily protesting the interruption of its breakfast.
Angela’s scream sent the crow flapping off into the morning sky. It didn’t wake Loriel.
6
THE BODIES WE HAVE BURIED
ALL THE STUDENTS had been gathered in the dining hall, most dragged from their beds by either Angela’s shrieks or the staff pounding on their doors. Nancy had been jerked awake by Kade shaking her shoulder, leaning so close that she could see the delicate filigree pattern of lines in his irises. She had jerked away, blushing and clutching the sheets around herself. Kade had only laughed, turning his back like a gentleman while she got up and put her clothes on.
Now, sitting at a table with a plate of scrambled eggs getting cold in front of her, Nancy found herself clinging to the memory of his laughter. She had the feeling that no one was going to be laughing here for quite some time. Maybe not ever again.
“Loriel Youngers was found dead this morning on the front lawn,” said Lundy, standing ramrod straight in front of them, her hands folded in front of her. She looked like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering. “I was against telling you anything more than that. I don’t feel that such morbid things are appropriate for the ears of young people. But this is Miss West’s school, and she felt your knowing what had happened might make you take her request that you stay together more seriously. Miss Youngers was found without her eyes. They had been … removed. We thought at first that it might have been predation by local wildlife, but a closer study of the body showed that they had been removed with a sharp object.”
No one asked what kind of sharp object. Not even Jack, although Nancy could see that she was practically vibrating from keeping her questions contained. Jill, in contrast, seemed perfectly serene, and was one of the few students who was actually eating. Spending a few years in a horror movie must have done a great deal to harden her sensibilities.
“Unlike Sumi, Loriel’s parents were still involved with her care, and we have not yet contacted the authorities.” There was a catch in Lundy’s voice. “Eleanor is in her chambers, deciding what to do. Please, finish your breakfasts and then return to your rooms. Do not go anywhere alone, not even the restrooms. The school is not safe.” She turned, not waiting for them to respond to her, and walked quickly to the exit.
When she was gone, Jack finally frowned and let one of her questions out. “Eleanor sat there last night and said she was looking forward to lying to our parents about what happened to us,” she said. “Why can’t she just make Loriel disappear, and tell that lie?”
Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1)
Seanan McGuire's books
- An Artificial Night
- Ashes of Honor: An October Daye Novel
- Chimes at Midnight
- One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel
- The Winter Long
- A Local Habitation
- A Red-Rose Chain
- Rosemary and Rue
- Chaos Choreography (InCryptid, #5)
- Dusk or Dark or Dawn or Day
- Down Among the Sticks and Bones (Wayward Children #2)
- The Brightest Fell (October Daye #11)