A School for Unusual Girls by Kathleen Baldwin

swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Come.”
    Come where? I didn’t move. Whatever they were up to, they could do it without me. I had plans to formulate.
    Jane popped out of the darkness and thrust her face next to mine. “Did you think to pack candles in that enormous trunk of yours?”
    Startled by her sudden appearance, I only shook my head. No. I hadn’t thought to smuggle a firearm into my luggage either, but it might’ve proved handy in dealing with this lot.
    â€œI thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” She grasped my hand and tugged me out of bed. “Come on then. We’ll have to make do without.”
    Normally, I would have demanded to know exactly what was going on and why, but given the odd inhabitants of this school and my precarious position among them, I decided it would be prudent to remain silent and cooperate. Tonight, I would emulate Captain Cook on his voyages to the aboriginal people of the South Pacific. For the sake of science, I would observe and analyze the natives in their natural habitat. Truth be told, I was curious.
    Jane tugged me along as we crept to the far side of the room. The others huddled near an ornate oak paneled wall. Tess pressed the top corner and a latch clicked. The panel scraped against the floor as she pulled it open. We tensed. Jane and Maya spun around and stared at the bedroom door, wary as deer fleeing a hunter.
    Maya exhaled and whispered, “She did not hear.”
    Tess disappeared through the opening and Sera followed. I balked, having seen quite enough of secret passages for one day. I didn’t relish the dust and mildew on my bare feet, or the spiders, or mice, or—
    â€œCome.” Maya took my hand and ended my standoff. “You will want to see this.”
    I don’t know why I let Maya persuade me. Baffling . Perhaps it was the musical quality of her voice, or her gentle nature. I only know I felt compelled to follow her. I ducked under the oak frame, into the wall, and a blanket of dense blackness engulfed us.
    Jane pushed me from behind. “Hurry.”
    I followed the others up the narrow stairway. Jane pulled the panel shut, and stale, musty, cupboard air closed around us. The tight quarters inside the wall magnified every sound; five of us breathing, ten feet padding on the crumbling stone stairs, and the whiskery tick-tick of mice chasing up the steps beside us.
    â€œMice!” I warned the others.
    â€œHush.” Jane patted my back. “Keep moving. Tess will deal with the rats.”
    â€œ Rats? ”
    Jane silenced me with a thump between my shoulder blades. I shivered, but not from the cold. I imagined dozens of gray, greedy-eyed vermin swarming around us, their hairless tails whipping from side to side, and their sharp teeth snapping at my heels. I tiptoed cautiously up the cold steps, hoping each splinter of rotting wood, every nubbin of broken plaster underfoot was not an angry rat’s tail.
    We climbed higher and higher, until at last, the air tasted less stagnant, and gray light filtered down from somewhere above us. “Ack!” I hopped aside as one of the rats, a fat dark fellow, scurried past me, racing up the stairs toward the opening.
    Jane shushed me again. So I kept mum and followed Maya out of the passage into a low-ceilinged attic.
    Large undraped dormer windows cut into both sides of the long garret, and moonlight bathed the room in wisps of silvery blue. Discarded paintings leaned against a monolithic old wardrobe. Crates and trunks, stacked in tall misshapen pillars, formed caverns and created weird shadows. In the center of this labyrinth, near one of the windows, sat several mismatched dilapidated chairs arranged in a semicircle. Jane lit a small tin oil lamp and placed it on the floor, but it barely illuminated the chairs.
    Sera hurried to the window seat and busied herself with a sailor’s spyglass. Unlatching the window, she focused it