“She’s right, Alice,” Catherine said. She took Eliza’s arm and started for the chapel.
“So now you’re leaving me out here alone?” Alice wailed.
“Come with us!” Eliza hissed. Alice clasped and unclasped her hands, looking from the chapel back toward campus—gauging, it seemed, whether going inside with her friends or walking back alone was the worse of the two evils. The very idea of Alice trying to get back to Crenshaw House by herself without fainting or going into hysterics seemed impossible.
“Wait here,” Eliza said to Catherine.
The wind was growing fierce now, forcing tears from her eyes as she hastened back toward Alice. “Look at me, Alice,” Eliza demanded, taking her friend’s hands. The wind tore through the trees around them, creating a vortex of green and brown leaves.
Alice took in a shaky breath, glancing about warily as a gust pushed her forward.
“If you come inside with us, I promise to not let anything bad happen to you,” Eliza said.
“But . . . how can you promise that?” Alice asked, her bottom lip quivering.
“Because I’m your friend and I would never put you in harm’s way.” Eliza had to shout now to be heard over the whistling wind. “I would never put anyone I loved in harm’s way.”
Alice’s expression softened slightly, the creases of anxiety disappearing from her forehead. She looked at the chapel again uncertainly. The wind shoved her forward once more, and she staggered into Eliza. Eliza wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her steady.
“Come along. Theresa is waiting for us,” Eliza said.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Alice’s feet finally started moving. They rejoined Catherine, and the three of them walked with the wind at their backs. Eliza shoved open the door to the chapel, and together they tumbled inside.
“What took you so long?” Theresa asked.
Standing at the center of the aisle, between the two rows of polished oak pews, and framed by the gorgeous stained glass windows above the pulpit, Theresa held two lit candles that she had no doubt taken from the wall sconces.
“Bring the map here,” she instructed.
Eliza did. Theresa handed the candles to Catherine, then bent toward Eliza so she too could look over the map. But there was no text left to read, just simple drawings: arrows and doors and a staircase.
“The arrows seem to be pointing down the aisle and then to the left side of the chapel, where there is to be a door,” Eliza said. “And behind the door, some sort of square room.”
“Then let’s go,” Theresa said, starting in that direction.
Eliza folded the map and followed. The chapel was all creaks and wails on such a windy night. Catherine and Alice brought up the rear, and Eliza could hear Catherine whispering soothing reassurances to Alice as they moved.
Through an arched doorway at the front of the chapel and down a short hall, Theresa and Eliza came to a solid, six-panel door.
“Shall we?” Theresa asked, shadows dancing across her face.
Before Eliza could speak, Theresa had tried the brass knob, and the door swung open to reveal a small, square office. Just like in the drawing.
“Huh. No ghosts or goblins or mummies,” Theresa joked. “I’m almost disappointed.”
Alice let out a groan as Theresa and Eliza stepped over the threshold into the chamber. The walls were a modest white, and oak beams lined the ceiling. At the center of the room was a plain wooden desk, and bookcases lined all four walls. A huge cross, whittled out of what appeared to be maple, hung on the wall behind the desk.
“This is the chaplain’s office,” Alice whispered from the doorway. “We shouldn’t be trespassing.”
“Oh, Alice, hush,” Theresa said, walking behind the desk. “He’ll never even know we were here.”
“But God will know,” Alice said.
Eliza and Theresa looked at each other and for some reason, even though Eliza knew that what they were doing could be considered blasphemy, and even though she was irritated with Theresa beyond all measure, all she wanted to do was laugh.
It’s just my nerves, Eliza told herself. I’m not a bad Christian for being here. If God didn’t want me to be an adventurer, he wouldn’t have built me this way.
“I see no other way out,” Theresa said, turning in place.
Catherine brought the lamp over and lit it from a candle, and Eliza unfurled the map once more. “It doesn’t make sense,” Eliza said. “There’s a drawing of a set of stairs on the west wall of the office.”
All three girls turned around to face the west wall and were met with an imposing bookcase full of Bibles and other religious works. Had they come all this way for nothing? Had it indeed been nothing but a grand hoax?
“Let’s get out of here,” Alice whined. “Please. Let’s just go.”
Eliza moved around to the side of the bookcase and ran her hand along the corner between case and wall. Her fingertips found something metallic and grooved.
“Girls, you’ll never believe what I’ve just found,” she said. Her mouth was dry as she tried to swallow.
Catherine peeked around the bookcase, shining the lantern at the wall. Sure enough, three huge brass hinges were affixed to the bookcase and the wall.
“Does it open?” Theresa asked breathlessly.
“Let’s see!” Eliza replied.
Catherine placed the lantern on the desk, and the three of them tugged at the opposite side of the bookcase. When Eliza first felt it give, she let out a gasp of surprise. Slowly the bookcase swung free, revealing a small white door set into the wall. Sitting in its keyhole was a large brass key, with a purple ribbon dangling from it.
Full Circle
“This is just like Journey to the Center of the Earth,” Eliza said breathily, tingling from head to toe. She instantly thought of Harrison and wished for a brief moment that he could see her right then. But then she realized he’d be seeing Theresa, too, and she quickly banished him from her thoughts.
As Theresa went to open the door, Alice let out another pained wail and leaned against the doorway between the office and the chapel.
“Are you sure about this?” Catherine asked, her eyes concerned.
“We can’t stop now,” Theresa said, as though it was the most obvious argument in the world.
“She’s right,” Eliza confirmed. “We’re so close.”
“Wait,” Catherine said. Both Theresa and Eliza looked at her, exasperated. “I don’t mean to be the dull one,” Catherine continued. “I just want to make sure we’re not doing something we’re going to regret.”
Theresa reached for Catherine’s hand. “I don’t mean to offend you, Catherine, but if you live your entire life wondering what you’re going to regret later, you’ll never truly live it.”
Eliza blinked, surprised to agree so wholeheartedly with Theresa’s words. Catherine appeared taken aback as well. She knit her brow for a moment and then nodded, her chin set with determination.
“All right, then,” she said firmly. “No regrets.”
“Let me get another candle,” Eliza said. She turned and removed one from a sconce on the wall, then held the wick against Theresa’s flame to light it. “All right,” she said with her face newly aglow. “Go ahead.”
Theresa reached out and turned the key. It let out a reverberating click that brought forth another wail from Alice. Theresa tried the knob, and the door swung open easily, soundlessly. Cold air rushed up from the dank depths below, taking the breath right out of Eliza’s lungs. Eliza held her candle aloft, and Theresa and Catherine followed suit.
“What is it?” Alice whined tremulously. “What did you find?”
“It’s a staircase,” Eliza replied. “Just like the map said.”
“A staircase?” Alice managed to pry herself away from the door and join the others. She peered down into the darkness. The winding staircase disappeared around a bend after only five steps. “No,” she said. “No, no, no. You can’t be thinking
of going down there. All you’re going to find down there is death and damnation, you realize that, don’t you? That staircase was not meant to be found!”
Eliza clenched her teeth. “Let’s go.”
She took the first step onto the top stair, which moaned beneath her weight. Catherine stayed close behind her and Theresa brought up the rear as they continued down the winding stairs. All three flames seemed to wax and wane as they went, disorienting Eliza. Each time the light started to dim, she clutched Catherine more tightly, terrified of falling.
Then, from out of the darkness, a voice whispered in Eliza’s ear.
“Turn back.”
Eliza stumbled. Catherine bumped into her from behind. Theresa swore under her breath.
“Eliza! You need to warn us if you’re going to do that!” Theresa admonished.
“Did you hear that?” Eliza said, her breath ragged.
“Hear what?” Catherine asked, her voice thin and high.
Eliza looked past her at Theresa, who shook her head slightly as if she thought Eliza was going insane.
Perhaps I am going insane, Eliza thought tremulously. Hearing voices that aren’t there.
“It was nothing. Probably just an odd creak,” Eliza told them, with more confidence than she felt.
“I can’t see you anymore!” Alice cried out from above. “Are you still there?”
“We’re fine, Alice!” Catherine shouted back. “Calm down!”
“I can’t calm down! What if you don’t come back?” Alice whined.
“We’re coming back,” Theresa said through her teeth. “Now kindly shut up!”
Alice let out a whimper but said nothing more. Seconds later the girls reached the bottom of the stairs.
Eliza moved aside, her shoes scratching across the floor as if it was covered in sand or grime. Theresa and Catherine joined her, holding out their candles and the lantern in front of them. With a deep breath, Eliza realized that there was nothing to be afraid of in the basement room. No devils or demons or mummies or ghosts. It was simply a small, circular room with no furniture save for a large wood trunk at its center.
Slowly Theresa walked around the trunk. After a moment, Catherine and Eliza followed. All three of them crouched in front of it, tucking their skirts around their knees. The trunk was made of a plain but sturdy wood. Its latch was simple and gold, and etched into the panel just above the latch was the intertwining circle symbol now so familiar to Eliza. She touched the locket around her neck, then reached out and traced the symbol on the trunk with her fingertips. Despite the cool air of the chamber, the wood felt warm to the touch. There was no lock.
“Whatever we find inside, it belongs to all four of us,” Eliza said, looking at her friends.
“We’re not including Alice,” Theresa said. “She’s done nothing but complain and protest.”
Eliza opened her mouth to retort, but Catherine stopped her with a hand to her arm. “She came inside with us even against her better judgment, which was very brave,” Catherine said. “This trunk belongs to her, too.”
Theresa rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Together, the three girls lifted the heavy lid of the trunk. It opened and fell back from their hands, slamming against the bottom half so loudly, that all three jumped. Holding her breath, Eliza peered inside.
“It’s nothing but a pile of old books!” Theresa blurted.
Intrigued, Eliza reached in and took out the first hardcover tome. “The Mystical Realm,” she read from the spine.
Catherine put her candle aside and grabbed another. “The Lunar Seasons,” she read, her eyes bright with excitement.
Theresa removed the third. “Rites, Sabbats, and Festivals.”
“I’ve never seen books like these,” Eliza said, flipping through pages of diagrams and illustrations. Many of them had notes handwritten in the margins—arrows and measurements and sketches of planetary alignments. Quickly the girls removed each and every volume from the trunk, laying them in piles around their knees. Finally, Catherine reached inside and pulled out a heavy book that was bound in gray linen. When she opened the cover, Eliza saw that someone had drawn the same circular symbol on the inside. Catherine reached over and flipped to a random page. There was a list of ingredients down the center, followed by two paragraphs of directions.
“It’s a recipe book,” Theresa said, disappointed.
Catherine placed her palm reverently against the page, her middle finger just grazing the letters of the recipe’s title. She looked up at the others with an excited expression in her eyes.
“‘Potion for a Broken Heart,’” she read.
“Potion?” Eliza echoed, her brow furrowing.
“What does that mean?” Theresa asked.
“It means that this is not a recipe book,” Catherine replied. “It’s a book of spells.”
Camaraderie
“Here’s one I’d like to try,” Theresa whispered, bending over the book that sat across the girls’ laps in the center of Catherine’s bed. “‘The Swelling Tongue.’ It says it will cause the tongue to expand, filling the mouth of any boy who tries to get fresh.”
Eliza and Catherine giggled. “You wouldn’t, really,” Catherine said, her eyes dancing in the candlelight.
“Well, maybe with some boys,” Theresa said. “But I’d never have to cast it on Harrison. He’s a gentleman.”
Eliza’s happiness melted at the mention of Harrison, and her eyes flicked to the book he’d sent her earlier that evening. For a brief moment, she found herself mulling his intentions. But just as quickly, she put him out of her mind. What she was doing right now was far more interesting than anything a boy could offer.
The three girls were gathered closely together on Catherine’s mattress, their backs against the wall, legs crossed in front of them. Catherine held the book open over her lap, but it was so large that the front cover rested on Theresa’s thigh and the back cover on Eliza’s. The one candle they had lit sat on Catherine’s desktop, casting shadows that shifted across the weathered pages.
“How old do you think it is?” Eliza asked, fingering the thick parchment as she turned the page.
“Older than us,” Catherine said. “Probably even older than our parents.”
“Look, a disorientation spell!” Eliza said, scanning the page closest to her.
“And on this side is a forgetfulness spell,” Theresa put in. “Imagine what we could do with these. We could make old Britton forget all about giving us exams!”
Catherine laughed. “I’m not sure about that. You have to be careful with magic. The natural balance of things always has to be maintained.”
Eliza and Theresa both stared at her.
Catherine blushed and looked down at the page, turning to the next. “I just heard that somewhere, I think.”
Eliza’s eyes narrowed. She had a feeling there was more to what Catherine had said than she was letting on.
“But what does it mean?” Theresa asked. “If we were to make Miss Britton forget to give us a literature exam, how would the natural balance, as you call it, be affected?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just . . . I think what it means is, there are consequences to magic,” Catherine replied, the color in her cheeks deepening. “For example, perhaps if Miss Britton forgot to give us an exam in literature, we would then be given an extra one in French. Something like that.”
“Ugh. Then forget I said anything,” Theresa said, sticking her tongue between her teeth. “I’d rather take one literature exam than two French.”
“Agreed,” Eliza and Catherine said in unison.
The three girls laughed, and Eliza sat back again, pulling her side of the book back onto her thigh. For the first time, she was feeling a real camaraderie with Theresa.
“Oh, look, Eliza. Here’s one to brighten dull skin. Perhaps you should copy that one down,” Theresa said, arching an eyebrow.
And just like that, any positive feelings Eliza had toward Theresa vanished
.
“Thank you, Theresa. How very thoughtful. Maybe there’s one in here for curing a permanently bad attitude,” Eliza shot back.
Theresa glowered and opened her mouth to respond, but Catherine placed her hands on their wrists.
“Girls, please. I can’t abide my two good friends fighting all the time,” she said calmly. “No more insults.”
Eliza gritted her teeth as she looked at Theresa. “Fine,” she said.
“No more insults,” Theresa agreed.
Catherine nodded and turned the page. “Thank you.”
Eliza resolved to keep her promise and say nothing else against Theresa. At least, not tonight. But she knew that she would never understand how any rational person—Harrison and Catherine included—could ever tolerate Theresa Billings, much less love her.
The Billings Literary Society
The low-ceilinged Billings School library was as charmless inside as it looked from the outside. It gave the impression that it had been built off to the side of McKinley Hall as an afterthought, as if no one had imagined in the early days that a girls’ school might be in need of an actual book collection. Although the library was architecturally bland and almost windowless, Eliza still managed to love it.
As she and Catherine slid into chairs beside Alice at one of the small wooden tables on Wednesday afternoon, she couldn’t help but breathe in the room’s musty, papery scent. Then Theresa dropped the heavy tomes from the chapel basement in the center of the table, chasing away the warm and cozy feeling.
“I cannot believe you brought those here,” Alice whispered, glancing derisively at the ancient volumes. “Not only are those books an abomination against God, but if the headmistress catches you with them, you’ll surely be expelled.”
Alice stood up, turned her back on the other three girls, and sat down at the next table. She opened her history book, tugged her kid gloves from her fingers, and directed her attention to the page before her.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I can’t be expelled?” Theresa hissed, leaning toward Alice’s table to be closer to her ear. “Besides, these are your books as well.”