Christine Johnson - Grim anthology

Liv wanted to ask how—or why—but she knew somehow that she shouldn’t. She was meant to accept this, the same way she had accepted the rules that Harley laid out. So she kept walking and swallowed her questions.

The tunnel ended in a short flight of steps that led to an ancient-looking wooden door. Harley lifted the latch on the iron handle as if everything was totally normal, and the door opened into the same city alley. The entrance to the club bore a different flyer tonight. It was printed with a black tree drawn like a tattoo, and gothic letters spelled out words Liv couldn’t pronounce: Magh Meall.

Inside, the club had changed in ways that made Liv wonder if she had simply remembered it wrong. The first room had trees of gold, not glass, and instead of a caged dancer hanging above there were aerial acrobats, bare legs wrapped around rippling golden silk. Liv gazed at them as the music thudded through her, and she decided that she wouldn’t drink the wine tonight, because tomorrow she wanted to remember this place.

She turned to look for Harley, but she was nowhere in sight. Liv began to push her way through the dancers, searching for her. Strangers’ hands brushed against her, their fingers sweeping over her arms, and when she looked down she saw trails of gold dust on her skin. A woman with long green ropes of hair caught hold of her, urging her to dance, and she smelled like the ocean, salty and clean. Although Liv wanted to stay with her, she forced herself to remember what she was after: Harley. She had to find Harley. Liv pulled away from the woman, whose face suddenly contorted into anger, and when she snarled at Liv, her teeth looked like fangs.

Recoiling, Liv’s gaze darted around the room, seeking anyone familiar who could explain what she had seen. Finally she glimpsed Harley slipping through the doorway into the next room. “Harley!” Liv shouted, but her voice was lost in the pounding music. She went after her, pressing against the walls so that she could avoid the dancers, but when she entered the next room—silver trees, lit with pulsing red-and-white strobe lights—she had lost her again.

Someone grabbed her elbow and she spun around, her heart racing. It was Paige. “You okay?” Paige asked.

“I’m looking for Harley,” Liv said. “Is it three yet?”

Paige shook her head. “We’ve only been here about fifteen minutes.”

That didn’t feel right.

Paige saw her confusion and said, “Let me get you a drink.” She led Liv to a curtained alcove along the wall—there were many of them, mostly full of couples—and pushed her inside. “Wait here.”

When the curtain fell, it muffled some of the music. The low red lights made the alcove feel like being inside someone’s heart. Liv’s skin itched, and she rubbed at her forearms idly until she realized something was sloughing off. She looked down in horror, but it wasn’t her skin; it was glitter.

Paige returned with two goblets—still gold and jewel-encrusted—and sat down beside her. “Here,” Paige said, handing her a drink. “You need this.”

Liv took the goblet but didn’t drink. “I think it gave me a hangover last night.”

“You get used to it,” Paige said, sipping from her own goblet.

“Where’s Harley?” Liv asked.

“Why? You have a thing for her?”

Liv’s face grew warm. “No.”

“It’s okay. Everybody has a thing for her at first.” Paige sounded resigned.

“Did you?” Liv asked.

Paige shrugged. “Sure. We were together for a while, but that’s over.”

“Do you know where she is?” Liv asked again. It was the only thing she could remember, as if her mind was stuck on repeat, and she didn’t know why.

Paige didn’t respond at first, instead studying her carefully. Liv clutched her goblet with both hands, the jewels digging into her skin, and she wished—she willed—Paige to answer her question. Finally Paige said, “Harley’s looking for her sister.”

Casey. “I thought she left school,” Liv said.

“No,” Paige said, and for a moment she looked frightened. She took another sip of her wine. “She came to the club with us a few nights ago, but we couldn’t find her before we left.”

“You mean she stayed here?”

“I don’t know. Harley thinks she can find her, but...” Paige took another sip, and the drink seemed to calm her. “Melissa and Andrea stayed, too, and we haven’t found them.”

Liv rubbed a hand over her forehead, trying to clear the fuzziness from her brain. “You mean all three of them stayed here? They never returned? How come nobody talks about that at school? Everybody says they just transferred.”

“They didn’t transfer,” Paige said flatly.

“Then what happened to them?” Liv asked. “Why would they stay here? I don’t understand.”

Paige sighed. “You’re not supposed to know this,” Paige said deliberately. “At least, not yet. You can’t tell anyone that you know. You can’t tell Harley.”

Liv was mystified. “Why did you tell me, then?”

Paige looked annoyed. “I don’t agree with everything Harley decides. And you’re one of us now—or you will be tomorrow. You might as well know.”

“What do you mean about tomorrow?” Liv asked. “Aren’t I one of you already? I promised Harley I’d do what she wanted.”

“Tomorrow everything will be finalized. Third time’s the charm.” Paige took another drink. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” She stood, her head nearly brushing the ceiling of the curtained alcove. “I’ll see you later. I have to dance.”

The way she said it—I have to dance—was so strange, as if she was being compelled to do it. Liv watched Paige leave, and then she put her own goblet of wine down on the floor. Bit by bit, like a knife scraping against the frost on a windshield, she was beginning to see.

This place. This beautiful, horrific place. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Liv woke to the repetitive screeching of her alarm at 7:00 a.m. She shut it off quickly. The rest of Castle Hall was silent; the other girls probably wouldn’t wake up for hours. Liv threw off her blankets and got dressed. She didn’t feel as hungover as she had the day before, but there was definitely something wrong with her perceptions. The real world seemed blurry.

She threw her laptop into her messenger bag and walked through the chilly late-October air to the dining hall. As she passed the quad, a flock of blackbirds took off from the oak tree, the beat of their wings loud in the silent morning.

The dining hall was beginning to fill with students. Liv poured herself a giant cup of coffee, took a seat alone at the table traditionally reserved for Harley’s group and opened her laptop. Three girls had stayed behind at that club. Melissa Wong, Andrea Richmond, and Harley’s sister, Casey. Liv searched for the girls’ names online, looking for evidence of how their disappearances had been reported. Melissa and Andrea both had Facebook pages, but Melissa’s was private, so she couldn’t read it. Andrea’s, however, was mostly public. Her page was filled with messages from people saying they missed her and were worried about her, but oddly, none of the messages appeared to be from any Sloane students. One was from someone identified as Andrea’s brother, and it said, “We’re looking for you, Ann. Please come home.” It took Liv a while to read through her timeline, but the last update she had posted had been back in August. “Can’t wait to party with the girls again!”

Where had Andrea gone? Liv thought about the flyers posted on the door to the club in the alley. She couldn’t remember how to spell the name that had been on the flyer last night, but she remembered the four letters from the first night: AARU. She entered the word into the search bar. It was a term from Egyptian mythology. A heavenly paradise where souls could exist in pleasure for eternity. Similar to: Elysium, Avalon, Magh Meall. She caught her breath and clicked on the link to Magh Meall and read, “From Irish mythology, a pleasurable realm able to be accessed by only a select few...a place of eternal beauty...occasionally visited by mortals.”