The Din - Chapter 3

The Din - Chapter 3

They worked their way into the kitchen with relative stealth. Wil’s quick thinking gave them an apt excuse to be gone for a while, so they needn’t worry about that this time.

“Here, this way!” Wil barged into the basement, her giddiness building. It was strange to Eliza, who was used to the whining, weird way Wil was, to see her so enthusiastic about something other than her silly rapiers. She fenced too, of course, but wasn’t nearly as interested in the sport as her sister.

When they arrived, though, the basement looked normal. Wil chewed on her lip, tapped her foot. She hadn’t really thought about how she’d get back. Of all the things she considered in the past week, exactly how she’d get back hadn’t been one.

“Wil, I’m getting worried,” Eliza said. “Mother will know. She always knows.” She shuffled from foot to foot, whining slightly. “Come on, let’s get back.”

“No.” She took her hand and sat her down. “They told me I always left too soon or arrived too late. We are going to wait.”

An hour later, Eliza was half-asleep and groaning. “Whoever they are, they aren’t going to show. I won’t even tell Mother if we can just leave.”

“Fine, go,” she said. “I’m not leaving until they’re here.”

“’They’ aren’t coming!” Eliza shouted. “Wil, you’re my sister, I love you, but I think you’ve finally cracked! No one is here. No one is coming.”

“They will.” There was no doubt in her mind. There could be none. Doubt meant believing that her wonderful shadow world was only in her mind, and even worse than that, that her mother was right. No, they existed.

“Just go,” she said. “I’ll be fine. And keep to your word—don’t tell her.”

“Does it really mean that much to you?”

There was no mistaking that voice.

“Neesha!” Wil leapt to her feet, looking around. “Where are you?”

“Hiding. We try not to show people other than those we try to contact, but this appears to be a special case.”

Eliza was staring wide-eyed around the room. “W-Wil… Please tell me you’re fooling around. That’s Jack, isn’t it?” She laughed nervously. “Jack, come out!”

The shadows suddenly filled the room. They swarmed in groups around them. Wil smiled, but her sister wasn’t quite so exuberant.

“Holy hell!” She clasped her hand to her mouth, her face going white. Neesha stepped forward, smiling.

“Hello, Eliza.”

It was at that point that Eliza ran screaming from the basement.

Wil sighed. “Well, at least she won’t think me crazy much longer,” she said.

Neesha shrugged. “It doesn’t much matter. Shall we depart?”

Oh, those words. Wil nodded eagerly. “Lets.”



Eliza had somewhat composed herself by the time she arrived in the ballroom. She was biting her nails, a nervous habit that she had supposedly been broken of many years since that had seemingly returned.

She went into the kitchen, feeling quite at her wits’ end. While looking around, she accidentally bumped into a plump, pear-shaped man with ruddy cheeks and nose.

“Miss Elizabelle, what you doin’ inna kitchen?” He was the head chef, Jack’s father, and had the thickest accent anyone had ever heard.

“I’m looking for Jack,” she said in a desperate tone. “Please, I implore you, have you seen him?”

“Eh, ‘e went into the ballroom wif some appetizers. Whatcha need ‘im for, hon? You know I’m always here to help.”

Eliza shook her head. “No, no, thank you, but it’s him I need. Thank you.” She hurried out, shaking nervously. Had Wil somehow given her the madness? Was that even possible? She couldn’t have seen…well. That.

She stood on tiptoe in the crowd. Jack, with his messy hair, would be easy to spot amongst the upper echelon of the gentry. That was, of course, if she could see over the bloody people.

“Excuse me, excuse me, coming—”

“Miss Wilkes?”

Duke Charlagne stepped through the multitude and took her hand. “Hello miss. I was getting worried. Is your sister all right?”

“Oh, yes, she just thought she’d retire.” Oh, she’s got me lying now, too! she thought. She chuckled nervously and withdrew her hand. She didn’t deserve such a pleasure if she was only going to lie. “I’m looking for someone, one of her friends. He’s one of the servant boys, Jack. He’s not very tall, brown-haired, very common. Have you seen him?”

Duke Charlagne frowned and shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Friend, you say? Guess my luck’s run out then.”

Eliza almost stopped to explain that they weren’t an item; in fact, Wil and Jack were almost as far from an item as two people could be. They were more like siblings, or very close cousins. Then she got an idea.

“Ah, yes, improper as it is, those two were meant to be.” She twirled a stray lock of hair around her finger. “So, what is it you were trying to tell her before?”



Wil and Neesha walked around the city, chatting idly. Wil asked questions nearly nonstop: what’s that, what does it do, who is that, why is it so dark, who runs things, do you use the loo, where is the sun, all sorts of things. Neesha always laughed and answered with the utmost truth.

But then Wil hit on some more serious questions. While passing an apparent bakery, she asked, “Everything is all black-and-white here, so why is your hair orange?”

Neesha stopped, frowning. “That’s—it’s not your business.”

“But—”

She narrowed her eyes and grabbed her wrist, lowering her voice at the same time. “Questions like that are the reason we don’t let many people in here. Do you want to leave?”


Wil shook her head quickly. “No, no, not at all, I just—I wanted to know. I’m sorry.”

Neesha sighed. “Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again.”

She cleared her throat and kept walking, her face flushing. She felt so foolish. She should’ve known it was a touchy subject. To be the only one with colors in a world of black and white was probably akin to being the black sheep of the family. She knew plenty about that.

“Oh, I have some drawings to show you!” she said suddenly. She pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper from her bodice, trying not to blush again. It was the only place she knew to hide something where no one would see it.

Neesha took the paper and looked it over. She was on the paper, staring out the window, the little tufts of hair peeking out. In tiny, tiny details, one could see the performers from the week previous out of the window. Neesha couldn’t help but smile.

“This is very good. Ah, thank you.” She tried to hand it back. She looked—was that abashed?

Wil laughed and pushed it back to her. “No, you keep it. I’ve got more than enough drawings at home. I think I can do without some.”

A few of the children came running up to them. “Hi Wil! What’s that?”

Wil looked at Neesha, confused.

Neesha smiled, a different smile than before. It wasn’t knowing, just a simple, secretly contented smile. “Everyone knows about you by now.” She patted the children’s heads. “This is a picture Wil drew for me. Would you like to see?”

They nodded excitedly and clung to her robes as she found a place to sit. There was a fountain nearby, and as she took her place, more people, children and adults alike, crowded around.

A few of the smaller ones ran to Wil, hugging her legs. “Draw us, Wil, draw us!”

She laughed, covering her face with her hand. “Oh, darlings, I don’t have any of my supplies with me. I’m afraid I can’t.”

“We can get you some supplies,” Neesha said. “We may not have yours, but I think we can manage.”

Wil nodded awkwardly. She didn’t usually draw for anyone, let alone an entire crowd. But those adorable little shadow-faces were too much to resist.

She sat next to Neesha, giggling quietly to herself.

“What’s so funny?” her companion asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just—this place makes everything wrong seem so far away. I feel so great here. I feel like I can do anything.”

“Is it nice enough to live here?” she asked slowly.

Wil shrugged. “Oh, it’s lovely enough, but…as much as I love it, I love my family, too, and Jack, even if he is a silly twit.”

Neesha nodded. To be that easy was too much to hope for.

Someone then came up beside Wil, papers, quills, and a few bottles of ink in hand. This was the first resident of this place that Wil had seen appearing anything less than festive. His face was drawn and droopy, and his posture made him hunch like an ancient man.

She started to ask what had happened to him when the children resumed the squeezing of her knees, each pleading to be drawn first, best, better. She laughed once, then turned to examine the sagging man again, but he was gone.

But the children and Neesha provided apt distractions, and soon enough, he was completely forgotten in the joys of doodling these new faces. After a few hours, she’d handed out at least one drawing to each person, and slowly, one-by-one, they took their leave with their gifts.

Wil sighed and looked at Neesha. “Today has been wonderful, but I think I ought to leave now. It was a disaster last time, and I’d rather not see a repeat performance.”

Neesha nodded and stood, extending her hand. “All right then.”

On their way back to the Door, Neesha was exceptionally quiet. Wil contemplated for a few minutes, cautiously reaching toward her, then pulling away, then reaching for her again only to pass it off as a stretch.

Eventually, she closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, and took her hand. “Um, hey there. Are you all right?”

Neesha nodded. “Yes. I think. It’s nothing.” She smiled and gave Wil’s hand a squeeze, causing a blush to creep up her face.

After a moment, though, Neesha spoke again. “You did a good thing today, you know, making all those drawings for people. They really enjoyed that.”

“Well, don’t they have things like that every day? I mean, this place is so full of life, with the children and the shows, and I’ll bet I can’t even fathom the rest of the things you all do here.”

Neesha smiled faintly and nodded. “Uh, yes. But that’s something we don’t usually have, someone drawing for us. That was truly something special.”

Wil smiled. “I appreciate the flattery, but I’m really not that good. I’m self-taught, and don’t get much time to practice, what with knitting and etiquette—”

“We’re here.” Neesha felt sick. She knew—well, everything, and it suddenly weighed on her. Wil, however, was far too shrouded in the wonders she found there to take any notice of her apparent discomfort.

Rather than say a simple goodbye such as last time, the two stood there awkwardly, each having trouble escaping their own thoughts to have any sort of conversation. After trying to start a sentence several different times, Neesha finally kissed Wil, who responded eagerly after having learned from the week previous.

They pulled away, Wil biting her lip with a smile. “Um, sorry. I’ll leave now.” She waved and walked through the door quickly to avoid further embarrassment. The first girl she’d ever kissed, and it wasn’t even a human!



She woke the next morning, half-expecting to see the crowd around her bed once more. In its stead sat Jack, collecting the drawings from all around the room and stacking them in a teetering pile on the desk. To Wil, they seemed like a strange sort of flower stem in the breeze. Not that she had much experience with breezes, but what she’d seen out the window of her more boring classes was enough.

“Well hello, traitor,” she said bitterly. The words tasted like poison on her tongue, tart and wounding. Jack looked at her with sad eyes and shuffled at the foot of her bed.

“Mornin’ to you, too.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Look, Wil, I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to be mean, I was just really worried. I mean, you bloody disappeared, what was I supposed to do?”

Wil stood and wrapped the blanket around herself. “Let me handle things?”

“Who’s to say you could’ve?” He sighed and took her by the shoulders. “You’re my best friend, Wil. I only said something because I wanted to see you safe.”

She nodded and kissed his cheek. “Fine. For now. Listen, I’ve got to lessons. Today is my first day of freedom after last week’s tragedy.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He let her go, looking guilty. “I already apologized for that.”

She sighed and found a simpler dress than those she wore to the parties. It would do. “I know, but I’m still a little mad.”

Jack nodded, choosing not to speak. Wasn’t like his caring had gotten him beaten or anything. Sometimes, she was so unreasonable. “Wil, these drawings. What are they?”

She blushed and frowned. “If you must know, they’re from when I visited the shadow-world that you all seem to think doesn’t exist.”

He flipped through some of them, nodding. “They’re quite good.” He sighed and sat on the bed. “Elizabelle told me about what she thinks she didn’t see.”

Wil snickered. “Yeah, they gave her quite a scare.”

Jack frowned. “Wil, I’d love to believe you, but this doesn’t feel right. What is it they want here?”

“Me,” she said simply. “They say I’m special.”

“Special? Wil—now, this isn’t to say you aren’t special, because you certainly are—but why? Did they say how you’re special? You don’t know anything about them!”

“I know enough,” she said. “They like me, and they pay attention to me, and it’s more than I can expect from anyone here.”

“I like you. Elizabelle likes you. Everyone else that lives here likes you. Isn’t that enough?”

She sighed and struggled into her dress. “It’s fine—I can get into this damn thing on my own, thank you—but really? My sister I don’t think counts, and neither do servants. You all don’t have a choice whether or not you like me.”

Jack stood crossly. For most of his life, he’d been quiet and patient, taking the blows she inadvertently landed on his dignity. “Annabeth Wilhelmina Wilkes, we most certainly have a choice in how we feel about you. We may not be able to show it exactly, but we have the free will to do as we please.”

Wil looked at him, biting her lip. “Jack, I—”

“Don’t!” He swept his hand out and knocked the stack of papers over, sending them flying about the room. “Wil, I’ve taken what you’ve given all our lives, and I am now done. Should you decide to stop being a snob and a twat, I’ll be in the kitchen.” He turned and stomped out the door. He could understand a little why she liked the idea of that place. The liberation felt wonderful.

Wil fell over, one leg successfully into her dress, and scrambled to her feet. “Jack, wait!” She ran out and pulled him back inside, biting her lip more fiercely.

“’Jack, I can’t do this without you!’” he said, mimicking her voice with a high pitch.

Wil sighed. “I really can’t, Jack. You’re my best friend in the whole world. Please don’t be mad at me?”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Only because you flattered me. Now, come on, get dressed before someone sees you.”

The two made their way down the stairs, where Eliza and Madame Wilkes stood, waiting. The expression on Eliza’s face was a strange combination of delight and guilt, as though she herself couldn’t tell which she felt. The Madame, however, was more than easy to read. She looked disgustingly full of herself, and her lips were even redder than usual, full and young and out of place peeking out from the wrinkles.

Wil straightened up, trying to feel strong. She had no idea what was going on. Seeing her mother out of her room before noon was rare enough, but to see Eliza up with her?

“Good morning,” she said. “What is the occasion?”

“You’ll be leaving today, girl. I talked to Lord Brimbury last night. You will be leaving the house to stay with his family for a month. We’ll see if you can be fixed before womanhood. Off with you, wretched girl, go pack your things. They should be here shortly.”

Wil balked. “Y-You can’t mean that. You wouldn’t, you horrible woman, you!”

“Keep your voice down!” the Madame bellowed before returning to a more reserved tone. “I can, will, and have. You have no say in the matter whatsoever. Now go, pack your things.”

Wil bit her lip, her hands shaking like a tree’s boughs in a harsh wind. This couldn’t be happening. She shook her head and slammed a fist against the banister. “No. I will not.”

The Madame looked at her like she had six heads. “No? No? As if you have any choice—”

“I do,” she said, chest swelling, confidence building. “I don’t have to go. Come on.” She grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him away, into the kitchen, down the hall, and to the trapdoor, her mother shouting madly behind them all the way.

“Wil, please say you aren’t going to—”

“We’re going to see them!”

“Oh, cor blimey, I don’t think I can handle that—”

“Hush up and come on!”

They ran down the stairs and she ducked behind the icebox, pulling Jack down next to her. “She hates this place. She’ll never find us.” They were positioned in the corner farthest from the entrance, nestled into the shadows. Wil knew her mother wouldn’t dare venture this far.

The footsteps were thunder coming down the stairs, terribly foreboding and loud in their ears. As Madame Wilkes and Eliza entered the room, Wil’s curiosity made her lean forward just enough that she was visible. Jack yanked her back and covered her mouth. Though Wil was usually the mastermind behind the plans, their execution was Jack’s area of expertise.

It was time to be silent. Time to be still. It was time to be hiding, not heeding the allure of confrontation’s thrill.

“I know you’re here!” the Madame shouted. Jack felt Wil smile beneath his hand. The crazy blighter actually liked this.

More footsteps, closer, closer, close—then they stopped. There was a shuddery sigh, then a whiny sob, and the footsteps retreated.

The Madame cooed down the stairs, “You can’t stay down there very long.”

As soon as the door closed, Jack was up, hands in his hair, about to yank it out of his head. “Wil, we are absolutely bollixed. That trapdoor is the only way out, and I’m sure they could sit on it for days. There’s no way to make it out of this alive.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Wil said, getting to her feet. When Jack made for the door, she dragged him back by the arm and smacked him across the face.

“Calm down. There is another way out of here.”

Jack frowned. “How?”

She started looking around the edges of the room, sliding her hands along the wall like two spidery specters, looking for hidden seams or buttons. “My father disappeared in this room. No one saw him leave, so there has to be another way out through here.”

He nodded. It sort of made sense. He joined in the search, though he was much less sure of what he was actually searching for.

“Wil…could your new friends be only in your head?” he asked after a time. His voice was gentle instead of accusatory. He honestly wanted to know if the possibility existed.

Wil, for once, didn’t take it badly. She bit her lip and sighed, pausing in the exploration. “I-I suppose they could be, but—Jack, you haven’t seen this place. I don’t have enough imagination to create something like that. There are so many things about it I can’t even fathom, things I haven’t even seen—”

“Just wanted to check,” he interjected. “I promise, I believe you.”

She smiled. “Good. It’s nice to have someone back on my team.”

They hadn’t spoken of Eliza’s betrayal yet. Even Jack had been surprised by that. The two sisters were usually joined in the everlasting battle against their mother, but now, Eliza had chosen safety over Wil. He had no siblings to speak of, but he thought the knife had probably sunk deep into Wil’s back.

Just when they were about to give up, the temperature dropped a few degrees and a voice came out of the cold. “Wil, this is getting highly unorthodox.”

Wil smiled and went to Jack, pulling him to his feet. “Jack, even you can’t deny that this is real.”

Neesha stepped out from behind a few crates, but wasn’t smiling. “Wil, really, this isn’t good. I showed your sister because it seemed she needed to know, but this fool—”

“This fool is my best friend,” she said, wrapping her arms around one of Jack’s. “We need to come see you. We’re trapped in here. Mother tried to send me away. I think Liza told her about you.”

Neesha frowned further. “That isn’t how things go. We can’t have the whole world knowing about us.”

“The whole world won’t!” she said desperately. She felt like she was going to lose the Missing and the breathtaking world that came along with them. “Mother won’t tell anyone. She’s ashamed of me and my delusions. She’ll keep this to herself.”

The shadow-girl looked contemplative, staring at Jack. He felt transparent. Even when he said he believed Wil, he really thought it was something else she might’ve misconstrued. Now, here was the subject of all those drawings, and she gave him a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He put an arm protectively around Wil.

“If it keeps her safe, then I’ll keep quiet on this, too,” he said.

This seemed to convince Neesha, who sighed and nodded. “All right then, this way.” As the pair stepped closer, she looked to Wil and said, “And if your friend hurls, I’m not the one who’ll be cleaning it up.”