The Kingdom - Clare B Dunkle - Hollow Kingdom 01 - The Hollow Kingdom

Dr. Thatcher turned to her guardian. “They had only a picnic basket?” he asked. “No clothes, no belongings?”

Hugh Roberts looked as if Kate had personally insulted him. “Miss Winslow, I warn you,” he said, gasping with rage. “I know you’re lying, and you know it, too. You know you believe in goblins, and you know you aren’t rational about them!” He glared at Dr. Thatcher. “She isn’t! She isn’t rational! She’s insane!”

Kate stared at the big man in complete amazement. She had never seen him so angry before. He’d been worried that she was making a break with reality, but he didn’t seem at all pleased that she’d rejoined it. She fell silent, unwilling to embarrass him with any more lies. Dr. Thatcher looked from the enraged man to the astonished girl, and his gaze turned thoughtful.

“Mr. Roberts,” he said soothingly, “I’m very glad you’ve asked me to come tonight, and I’m enjoying the conversation immensely, but I think it would help my examination of your ward if we had a few moments alone.”

Hugh Roberts subsided and left the room. Dr. Thatcher turned his kind eyes on Kate.

“Miss Winslow,” he said thoughtfully, “your story does make a certain sense, but Mr. Roberts mentioned other factors that are hard to explain as high spirits and pretend games: poor sleep, loss of appetite, and a feeling of being watched. In spite of your cheerfulness, you do appear rather thin and pale. I can see that your guardian would be a little difficult to confide in.” He chose his words with care. “Is there anything that you would like to tell me about? Anything that’s been troubling you?”

Kate squirmed a little. It was one thing to lie to Hugh Roberts, whom she disliked. It was quite another thing to lie to this friendly, likable man. But he was a doctor who worked with insane patients. If she told him about Marak, he would decide that his asylum was the best place for her to be. Kate looked into his sympathetic eyes and wished with all her heart that he were her father.

“You know I lost my father a few months ago,” she began.

“Of course,” Dr. Thatcher said gently. “It must have been a terrible shock, and yet they tell me that when you first came here, you were doing very well. Your problems didn’t start until later.”

“Did my guardian tell you that he’s not really related to me?” she asked sadly. “My sister and I are the result of an adoption several generations back. We supplanted Mr. Roberts’s side of the family, and he’s quite bitter about it.” She sighed. “He probably didn’t think it was important when he told me that story, but my nightmares and poor appetite started then. It hurt to find out that my sister and I have no real family left.”

Dr. Thatcher leaned back and nodded gravely. “I was afraid of something like this,” he said. “It explains a great deal. Miss Winslow, I don’t think you need to worry about insanity. You seem to be facing your problems very well. I can’t help feeling disappointed, though,” he added, smiling ruefully. “When I saw the wreckage in that bedroom tonight, I really thought I was on to something.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kate.

“I help people who are insane,” he declared, “but I do look for special cases. You see, there’s so much about the mind that we don’t understand. Sometimes, in great stress, people do things that are well beyond their physical powers, and sometimes insane people do them, too. It’s as if, not knowing what reality is supposed to be, they can go beyond those limits that we accept for ourselves.”

“Do you mean they can work magic?” Kate wanted to know.

“Well,” chuckled Dr. Thatcher, “I suppose you could call it that. I would say that they can do the extraordinary and inexplicable because they accept it as part of their world. For instance, we have a woman in the asylum who thinks she’s a rabbit. I have had specialists study how far she can jump. It’s amazing to watch. Another patient thinks she’s two completely different people. She crushed her foot one day, and we found her walking around on this badly damaged foot normally and without the least sign of pain. Why? Because she claimed that the other of her two selves had broken her foot. The person she was at the moment was perfectly well.”

Kate smiled, her fancy tickled by the stories. “So when you saw all the broken glass and torn-up furniture, you thought that I had done it,” she said. Dr. Thatcher nodded. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I didn’t do it, and I don’t think I could do it, either.”

Several hours later, Kate snuggled down comfortably in bed. Yes, she was still at the Hall, and yes, her indignant guardian had locked her in again. She was once more in a ground-floor bedroom with double doors leading onto the terrace. The designers of the Hall’s fashionable newer wing hadn’t exhibited much creativity from one room to the next. But she and Dr. Thatcher had talked until early in the morning, and a new day was not far off. She had vanquished two different enemies on two very different fields of battle. Neither one was gone for good, but that was a problem for tomorrow. Today had been simply glorious, and she would take care of tomorrow when it came.

A knock at the door roused her in the late morning, and Hugh Roberts entered the room. But this was not the pompous man she had infuriated the night before. His eyes were large and grave, and his manner was uncertain.

“Miss Winslow, I’m terribly sorry,” he said hesitantly. “I realize now that I should have believed you. You said you were in danger, but I never dreamed it might be real.” Kate sat up, alarmed.

“I’m afraid it’s your sister,” he explained awkwardly. “Emily has completely vanished.”

Part II

Lamplight

Chapter 7

Hugh Roberts had expected Kate to cry at the news, and cry she did. She lay on her bed, face in the pillow, and refused to look up. But he had also expected her to talk. That Kate refused to do.

“You have to help us find her,” he insisted. “You must know something about the creatures who took her. Dr. Thatcher and I will go out with the men and see if we can’t bring her back.” Kate just shook her head, mute. Hugh Roberts awkwardly stood by, not sure what to do.

“Don’t you want out of this dangerous room?” he asked. “I’ll let you out if you’ll talk to us. For heaven’s sake, I’m her guardian! I can’t just let her disappear like this!” Silence from the bed.

“I’ll send you away from here right now,” he promised. “I’ll send you someplace where you’ll be safe. Miss Winslow, please. Don’t you want to be safe from those creatures?”

Face in the pillow, Kate considered. Did she want to be safe? What difference did being safe make now? How could the heartless beast have done it, how could he? She knew the goblin had been furious when he left last night, and he had said once that he was a poor loser. But how could anyone—even someone inhuman—have threatened her little sister? Poor, dear Em, all alone in those hideous caves, surrounded by howling monsters. But surely they wouldn’t hurt her. Surely they wouldn’t turn her into a goblin bride. She was just a child! The goblin King had said so himself. It must be his way of getting even with Kate. She remembered him laughing, saying, “Do you know that she wants to be stolen by goblins?” It was all very well for Mr. Roberts to talk about bringing Em back to the daylight, but Kate knew that he would never succeed.

Kate paced her room that day like a tormented soul. When Hugh Roberts came several more times to plead with her, she remained absolutely firm. She knew exactly what she had to do. She watched the terrace outside her window closely. As twilight fell, she saw the familiar face of the big black cat peering out from the shadows and called him over to her with a gesture. Looking first left and then right, the cat cautiously approached her. She waved him down to the terrace doors, which didn’t shut properly. There was a small gap between them.

“Seylin, where is the King?” she asked, speaking softly for fear of being overheard.

“He’s in court now,” piped the cat.

“I need to see him right away.”

The cat looked at her through the glass of the double doors. His round golden eyes grew rounder.

“You do?”

“Yes, but don’t call him, Seylin. I need you to take me to see him.”

The cat’s eyes were huge now.

“You do?” he squeaked. “All right. I’ll take you.” He paused for a second. “The King will surely be surprised.”

“Good,” said Kate grimly.

The cat laid his paws on the doors, and they swung open. How easy, thought Kate disgustedly. How childishly simple. She stepped quickly across the terrace and into the darkening forest, the black cat in the lead.

Half an hour later, they were standing in front of a cliff face. Seylin reared up on his hind legs, balancing quite easily. “Here, take my paw,” he said. She did so. “It might help if you close your eyes.” Kate closed her eyes. “Now, five steps forward.” This is it, she thought. Drippy caverns. Darkness. She felt dizzy. She counted off five steps, then opened her eyes and blinked in astonishment.

She was not in a drippy cavern, at least not yet. Instead, she felt as if she had walked into the middle of a kaleidoscope. Mirrored surfaces faced her on all sides. Even the floor was a fractured mirror. She and the black cat were reflected hundreds of times, each time at a more drastic angle. She began to feel rather seasick. Black-cloaked guards approached them from many directions. It was a few seconds before she realized that this was only one guard reflected many times.

“Oh, do you have your eyes open?” asked Seylin. “I’d close them again. This can be confusing if you’ve never seen it before. It’s supposed to make it hard for enemies to find the next doorway.” She gratefully shut her eyes as Seylin talked to the guard. They walked forward. Now the drippy caverns, she thought.

But no, they were in a long, straight corridor of polished black stone, lit by globe-shaped lamps hanging from brackets on the walls. Goblin guards of various sizes and shapes walked about the corridor. Some of them took Kate’s breath away. They all appeared to be wearing a variation of Marak’s normal black attire, and this combined with the black stone of the corridor made them difficult to see. Kate realized how appropriate such a uniform was for creatures who would only be out during the night. No wonder humans seldom saw a goblin!

At the end of this corridor was a huge door several times higher than Kate. It appeared to be solid iron. She looked around, waiting for another guard to emerge and let them through. Instead, a deep, hollow voice rang out. It seemed to come from the door itself.

“Hello, little Seylin,” said the voice.

“Hello, door,” piped the cat.

“Didn’t I just let you out?” asked the door, sounding puzzled.

“I need to see the King,” Seylin said earnestly.

“Who is the pretty woman?” asked the deep voice.

“She needs to see the King, too,” said Seylin.

“Are you sure I should let her in?” The door seemed rather doubtful.

“The King wants to see her, too,” Seylin assured it.

There was a pause. “He could see her out here,” the door suggested.

“He’s in court. Come on, door, I’m in a hurry,” complained the cat. The door slowly swung open, and they walked through. Kate stopped on the other side, feeling rather overcome.

Ahead of her lay what she knew must be a vast cave, but it didn’t resemble one at all. She seemed to be looking across a narrow valley under an intensely black night sky. She stood on a wide street that dipped down to the shallow valley floor and then rose up again beyond it. Beside her, rows of trees filled with colored lights marched down the slight incline. Along the very bottom of the valley ran a small river, and the street crossed it on a low, arched bridge before climbing upward again through elegant formal gardens.