The Dead Girls of Hysteria Hall (25 page)

For every member of my own family I saved, how many others would die? If I took Maxwell’s deal, how many more best friends, sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers would suffer for my choice?

No. It was time to fix this. I had to.

Because this was my business.

This was
my
house.

“Go,” I said, turning away. “Your time here is done.”

The sound behind me was like a cross between a tornado and a scream, and when I looked back over my shoulder, the fog in the room had begun to take form. Maxwell was dissolving, and other bodies were forming from the smoke—an army of shadow creatures, twenty of them at least.

But they weren’t on my time line, so I didn’t concern myself with that fight.

I gently took hold of my sister and pulled her away from the incinerator, positioning her behind a brick-lined pillar near the door. Mindful of Maxwell’s warning, I was unwilling to chance a time speed-up by carrying her to the hall. I’d felt the truth in his speech about decisions and crossroads.

The shadow monsters were almost fully developed.

I closed the incinerator hatch, pulling the lever upright into its locked position, and walked through the brick wall. Inside, I used my own blue light to find the droplet of blood hovering in midair. I scooped it into the palm of my hand, cradling it to my chest as if it were something tiny and precious—which, of course, it was.

Time was going to ramp back up at any millisecond, and I needed to be ready.

I fell to my knees.

I was going to use my own body to contain the explosion. I’d probably be blasted into bits of ectoplasm, but that wasn’t enough to scare me. What could I possibly be afraid of—pain? Oblivion? Even my old pet fear of being forgotten shrank to inconsequentiality in the face of the alternative, which was letting the house have everything it wanted. Letting its ruthless power grow, unchecked, while I stood by and did nothing.

I crouched lower. The fire, still bound by my incantation, strained helplessly to climb up my legs. I held my breath and leaned over. If the blood hit the fire before I had a chance to cover it with my body, the result would be catastrophic. The blood had to touch the fire at the exact moment at which I threw myself on top of it.

I’m strong. I can do this.

I let myself fall.

As gravity pulled me down, I gently turned my hand so that the blood would make contact first.

Time sped up again, and the black flames filled my view. I crashed down into them, noticing for the briefest fraction of a moment that they were as soft as a feather bed.

There was a spark in my chest—the spark of the fire and the blood making contact.

It felt exactly like a heartbeat.

And then I didn’t feel anything.

It was so simple, so quick, so natural …

Almost as if my whole life had been leading up to this moment.

W
hat followed could have taken a thousandth of a second or a hundred years. I didn’t have any way to gauge the passage of time. There was no pain, no fear, no actual sensation at all except the feeling of being … changed.

“Come on, then. Are you planning to lie about all day?”

The voice was British, annoyingly full of itself, and maybe the most wonderful sound I’d ever heard.

“Eliza?” I asked without moving.

Someone lifted me and set me upright, and I found, to my surprise, that I could see.

And that I was still in the incinerator.

In front of me was Eliza’s semi-ghostly figure—ghostly in the sense that she clearly wasn’t a living, corporeal being, but also distinctly
not
a ghost—not in the way I knew ghosts, at least (and I knew a thing or two about ghosts by then).

Instead of a pale blue glow, Eliza emitted white light, bright enough to fill the small metal chamber and illuminate its sooty walls and floor, as well as the few charred scraps of trash that had survived its last run.

“Cheerio,” said Eliza, grinning. “Didn’t think you’d see me again so soon, did you?”

“Did it work?” I asked.

“Seems to have done,” Eliza said.

“Did I blow up my family?”

“Not even one little bit.”

“Oh, that’s really good news,” I said. I felt raw and slightly stiff, like I’d just woken from a very long sleep.

Then it sank in: Eliza was here. All of her. Perfectly unharmed.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “What happened to me? Am I still a ghost? Am I still dead?”

“No, you’ve been magically returned to life,” Eliza said. “Of course you’re still dead. Don’t get overexcited.”

“But what are you doing here?” I asked. “You … moved on, didn’t you?”

Her smile, though small, was highly pleased—like she had a happy secret. “I did,” she said. “As have you. Which means that we’re free.”

“To go?” I asked.

“Or stay,” Eliza said, frowning. “But I don’t see why you would. I waited for you, but now we’ve no one left to wait for.”

“How did you know to wait for me?” I asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Your ability to get into trouble left me with no doubt that you’d be blowing yourself to smithereens before too long. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“But my family—” I passed through the incinerator wall and found the basement bathed in blinding white light. After a moment, I realized that it was
my
white light.

“Your family—any of the living—are no longer your concern,” Eliza said. “That’s one big difference. Actually, you have no concerns at all. If you take a moment to rest, you’ll feel it—the calm. I know I’m a bit of a cynic, but even I can say it’s very lovely.”

“But I need to find them,” I said.

“Delia …” Eliza said as I walked to the stairs.

Except,
walked
would be the wrong word. Unlike when I was a regular ghost, I felt no connection to the physical world. No breeze went through me, no reverberations of my human life remained—no fluttering, nervous stomach, burning eyes, or aching head. I simply looked where I wanted to go, and then I was there. So I found myself at the bottom of the steps.

First I saw Janie, crawling up the stairs, the sleeve of her shirt over her face like a mask.

Then I noticed something I hadn’t seen when I’d first looked around the room and been blinded by my own vivid glare.

Smoke. Billowing clouds of thick, sooty smoke.

The room was on fire.

I had kept the incinerator from exploding, but the house was still going to burn to the ground. And I could only presume that at that very moment the faulty chimney was leaking toxic fumes into the room where my parents had been, not to mention the halls and back passages they would most definitely navigate in their search for my sister.

“Eliza!” I called. “Come help!”

I went to Janie’s side, intending to help her, but when I reached her, no matter how I tried, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t lift her or drag her upstairs. I couldn’t touch the door or unlock it or open it.

“What’s going on?!” I cried. “What’s the point of this if I can’t help her? What’s the point of any of it?”

“You’re not meant to help her,” Eliza said, her voice low and firm. “I’m sorry, Delia, but this is outside of your influence.”

I stared at her in horror. How could she be so
calm
? “But my sister’s going to die!”

“Well, if she does,” she replied, “you’ve ensured that she won’t be stuck here, in the house. And that’s enough.”

“That’s not enough!”
I shouted. “I’m not going to float around here and watch my sister die! That was the whole
point
!”

Eliza stood in front of me and took hold of my arms. It didn’t feel like being held by another person but rather like being locked into place by an immovable force. “If it were your business to save your sister’s life, you wouldn’t be here,” she said. “Do you understand? There’s a plan, Delia. Everyone has a place in it. And you’ve done your part. There’s nothing else you can do.”

“Impossible,” I said. “I’ll go get my parents—”

“They can’t see you,” she said. “Or hear you. I’m telling you. Everything you were intended to accomplish has been done.”

The absolute nonnegotiability of what she was saying rang too true for me to bother debating.

Her mouth turned down in a frown. “I’m very sorry, truly. I know you like to change things, but you won’t change this. You’ve got to accept it.”

“You don’t know that,” I said. “How could you know that?”

“I know it,” she said. “If you’d stand still for a minute, you’d know it, too.”

But I couldn’t stand still and let some mythical veil of knowledge slowly descend over me. Not while my family was in danger.

Being at one with the universe would just have to wait.

Janie coughed as she reached the top of the stairs, then stretched up toward the doorknob and tried to turn it—but it wouldn’t turn. The bolt was locked. She started to get to her feet but had to duck down to take another huge gasp of air.

I reached for the bolt, but even as I did so, I knew it was pointless.

My sister gagged and doubled over, trying desperately to get another breath, enough air to sustain herself.

It didn’t work.

She went limp, slumping unconsciously against the door.

“Oh my God,” I said.

“You needn’t worry,” Eliza said. “She won’t suffer.”

So was this really how it was supposed to be? After everything that had happened—was my sister really supposed to die?

And yet, standing there with my heart slowly breaking, I did feel the beginning of the peace Eliza had hinted at—a feeling that what would happen now must happen.

Suddenly, a figure appeared through the door, interrupting my reverie—Penitence.

I’d never been so glad to see a ghost before.

She unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open.

“Come on!” she called into the hallway.

Maria appeared behind her mother. “Where is she? Where’s Delia?”

“Child, we haven’t time to think about that. Help me.”

Then a nurse appeared at the doorway, the grouchy one I’d encountered in the kitchen so long ago—she was the Nurse Carlson who’d been kind to Maria.

Now she looked gentle and industrious as she, Penitence, and Maria surrounded my sister, trying to lift her. They were able to get her up and into the hall—but just barely. And each of them was significantly paler for the effort.

“You’re too weak,” said a voice from below.

Penitence turned to look down at Florence, who remained trapped in her circle of salt.

“You’re not strong ghosts, any of you,” Florence said. “You won’t be able to carry her. But I could help you.”

“No, thank you!” Penitence snapped.

They bent once again to try to lift my sister. This time, they failed to get her off the ground.

“I’m tellin’ you,” Florence said. “I’ll help.”

“You’ve already tried to kill her,” Penitence said. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because what choice do you have? And what could I possibly do now?” Florence’s voice shrank. “Maybe this is my last chance to do something good. I’d like the chance to do
something
good.”

There was a pause, and then Maria scampered down the stairs and over to Florence’s enclosure. She reached down and, with one grand swipe of her arm, made a break in the salt line.

Together they ran back to Janie’s unconscious body, and with Florence’s help, picked my sister up off the floor.

“Come on,” Nurse Carlson said. “Through the kitchen.”

But as they started down the hall, Rosie and Posie, in their matching nightgowns, came running from that direction. “The kitchen’s burning!” one of them cried.

“We’ll go through the lobby,” Penitence said. “It’s farther, but perhaps it’s not on fire yet.”

I followed close behind as the ghosts carried my sister through the main hall. Smoke had begun to seep through the doors and swell in dark clouds near the ceiling. The air was warm.

“Hurry, ladies,” Nurse Carlson urged. “Don’t lag. Almost there now.”

The door between the lobby and hall had been restored—probably when the black flames had been extinguished—and my parents were on the other side, struggling to break the lock.

“Set her down, quickly!” Nurse Carlson ordered. Gently, the four ghosts lowered Janie to the floor. Penitence turned the bolt and my parents rushed through. Mom knelt by Janie and felt for a pulse.

“She’s breathing!” Mom shouted.

Without wasting a moment, Dad scooped Janie into his arms, and he and Mom raced out the front doors.

“Let’s go,” Penitence said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

She, the nurse, and Florence started to follow my parents, but Maria stayed put.

“Maria!” Penitence called. “Come on!”

“But there are more ghosts,” Maria said. “Lots more. On the third floor. They’re trapped. Or they think they are. We need to go help them.”

Penitence came and crouched in front of her. “My dear, they’ll be all right. We’re all going to be all right. But we might as well not be inside the house. We might as well save ourselves the pain.”

Maria’s stubborn chin jutted up toward her mother. “I’m not afraid of pain,” she said. “I think being scared is worse than being hurt. I’m sorry, Mother. I’m going back. You can come if you like.”

Penitence hesitated, then nodded and took hold of the little hand. And as they headed back into the hallway, Nurse Carlson turned and followed them as well.

Florence stood in the doorway, her hair flowing wildly behind her, looking strangely lost. She was a ghost without a cause, dazed by her sudden freedom. Even her hatred was useless to her at this point.

With a start, I noticed a person running from outside into the lobby. Theo. He stopped in front of Florence.

“Does anyone inside need help?” he asked.

She stared at him, still dazed, and then suddenly woke up. “I think so,” she said. “On the third floor.”

“Then come on,” he said to her. And they both went after the others.

“You all right?” Eliza’s voice startled me. She hadn’t left my side the whole time, but I’d been too focused on Janie to notice. “Of course you are. Now, let’s go see your family.”

We walked outside, the building smoking behind us.

My parents were loading Janie into the backseat of Dad’s car. Mom climbed in with her, while Dad got into the driver’s seat.

Without thinking, I sprinted over and hurled myself into the car.

To be honest, I didn’t expect it to work. But I landed neatly on the front passenger seat.

As we drove down the driveway, I was in shock.

The force that had bound me to the house was gone, so I was free. I could go anywhere I wanted. A dream I hadn’t even dared to dream was coming true.

I was going to go home with my family.

I turned and looked back at the house, where Penitence, Maria, Florence, Theo, and Nurse Carlson were shepherding out small groups of ghosts, most of them in gray Piven Institute nightgowns. Eliza stood next to them, watching me go.

I waved good-bye to her.

Then I turned to look over at my family. Janie coughed, Mom stroked my sister’s face, and Dad drove like he was in a police chase. We were fifty feet from the gate.

Time slowed down.

In the wind from the open window, Mom’s hair moved through the air in slow motion, like a beautiful jellyfish. My father leaned back in his seat and began to reach back to pat Janie’s hand. I ached with love for them.

Finally, I could be happy again. I could live out my days at home. They would never forget me.

Janie knew I existed now. She would talk to me, and …

And try to look for me. Try to reach me.

Every day of her life, she would spend in constant longing, trying to communicate with someone who would always be just out of her reach. She would sense me, dream about me … It would consume her, an ever-present reminder of the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

She wouldn’t go to college, because she would feel too guilty that I never had a chance to go. She would spend her whole life trying not to do anything that would make me envious or sad. Everything would be about me and the chance that she might find a way to make me just a shade more real, to bring me back to her, even if it was only an illusion.