Cogling (36 page)

“How would we get out?” Edna asked.

The troll turned blue eyes on her. They glowed in the dark.

“Eddie, get back.” Harrison grabbed a fistful of her dress.

“Ya don’t never get out.” The other inmate laughed until he coughed and spit up phlegm.

The troll watched Edna and Harrison with a huge smile on his bloated lips. They parted, revealing glimpses of bloodstained fangs. Another soot demon scampered by. The troll turned and lumbered after it.

The soot demon’s squeal filled the hallway, followed by the troll’s chomping.

Edna rested her arm around Harrison’s shoulder; their trembling mixed to become one entity. “It can’t bother us, Harry-boy. We’re in here and it’s out there.”

“What’d you all do t’ git dumped here?” the inmate called.

Edna hugged her brother before she answered. “We angered some hags. You?”

“Stole stuff I shouldn’t have known about.” The inmate cackled again.

“We’ll get out of here, I promise.” Edna drew Harrison back to the wall. The troll lumbered by, and someone called for help.

“Shouldn’t upset hags,” the inmate said. “They is the worst of enemies.”

Only one full moon.

hen Rachel awoke, she lay on a cot. The lumpy mattress pressed against the back of her aching head, so she rolled over onto her side, moaning. Bile rose in her throat and she gulped.

Misty sunlight filtered through a barred window high in the whitewashed wall. The room was lined with brass beds like hers. She counted seven before her mind spun too fast. Each bed had a small wooden trunk at the end.

Rachel sat up and closed her eyes until dizziness faded, then studied the other beds more intently. Women ranging from her age to older lay on them in shapeless white dresses. Some of the attire was stained, and some of the women were chained to the bed frames.

“Hello?” Her raspy voice scratched her throat. “Can someone help me?”

None of the other females moved.

Something squeaked in the hallway. A second later, the door opened and a shiny woman entered, pushing a metal cart. No, she wasn’t a woman. She was an automation maid.

The mechanical woman pushed the cart to the end of Rachel’s bed. Over her metal body, she wore a tight black dress. “You have awoken.”

Rachel tried to wet her lips, but her tongue was too dry.

“Come with me.” Leaving the cart, the mechanical woman walked back to the door. Rachel staggered off the bed to follow. Her legs wobbled, but when she held out her arms, her balance steadied. A headache nagged and the coldness of the hardwood floor bit the bottoms of Rachel’s bare feet.

The woman locked the door after them, using a large key ring attached to her blue sash. The hallway had a high ceiling lit by circular windows at either end and lined with doors similar to the one they had exited. Rachel scratched her side. The white dress she wore itched.

She froze. Someone had dressed her. Someone, other than a maid, had seen her naked. She felt across her body, but no. She wore nothing except the dress that buttoned up the front. Shame burned her cheeks.

“Come.” The mechanical woman beckoned.

Rachel’s heart pounded as she hurried to catch up. “Where are we going? I shouldn’t be here.”

Someone screamed from behind a closed door. Rachel’s blood chilled in her veins.

They walked down a wide flight of stairs to another hallway, exactly like the first. The woman stopped at a door and knocked twice. “Enter,” a male voice boomed.

The hinges squealed before falling silent as the maid opened the door.

Rachel hesitated before she stepped inside. The automation waited in the doorway. Bookcases covered the walls. A man sat behind a large desk. He stood, but didn’t bow.

“I don’t belong here. The hags did this.” Tears burned her eyes.

“Lady Rachel.” He strolled around his desk. The lapels of his black coat whispered against each other. “We rarely receive nobility.
Your kind
likes to keep to themselves.” He sounded as though he thought she was no better than a rat.

“I must tell you what happened.”

“I know exactly what happened.” He smiled as his eyes roamed her body. “You escaped the Staff Ring, and you even kept your virginity intact.”

She leapt back, and realized the mechanical woman blocked the doorway.

“One of our nurses checked you before you were dressed.” He stood a few inches taller than she, was around forty years of age, with a clean-shaven face and graying black hair. He shouldn’t look so normal in the threatening asylum. She wanted to tear his blue suit into rags.

“There is no Staff Ring. The hags kidnapped me. They replaced me with a cogling.”

“The story Mother Sambucus said you would say.” He sighed. “I am Doctor Louis. I run this hospital.”

“This is an asylum!”

“At times, a man gives us his unwanted wife so he may marry again. Those who don’t really belong here are given tasks. This is a working farm. Men and women do everything here, and you can join that task force. I will let you stay.” He touched her cheek and laughed when she jerked away.

She’d never considered the possibility of living in one of those hovels. She tried to think of something to say to prove her honesty. There had to be some spark she could light.

Doctor Louis grabbed her face and kissed her, forcing her lips to part and welcome his tongue. She beat her fists against his chest, ripping away. As she stepped back, she slapped him. He caught her wrist.

“Get off me,” she shrieked.

“This is my jurisdiction. I do as I please.” He thrust her toward the mechanical woman. “I always let my guests know what punishment looks like here. Nurse, take her to the ice.”

The mechanical woman caught Rachel around the waist. Rachel flailed, but the woman was too strong. She dragged Rachel down the hallway, splinters digging into her bare feet. Doctor Louis followed. Rachel screamed, and others behind closed doors echoed her cries. Mechanical nurses walked by, but they didn’t look.

Doctor Louis unlocked a door and the nurse forced Rachel inside. The room had stone walls, moisture dripping off, with a large circular hole in the middle of the floor. It was filled with water, hunks of ice bobbing in it. A chair sat on the edge. The nurse pushed Rachel into the seat and strapped her wrists to the wooden arms. Then she fastened her ankles to the wooden legs. Lastly she tied one of the thick, leather straps across Rachel’s shoulders, securing her to the chair.

“What are you doing?” Rachel panted. Once she would’ve threatened them with her father’s noble name. Now she had nothing.

“If you don’t obey, this happens.” Doctor Louis kissed her again. Pinned to the chair, she could only turn her head a little. He bit her bottom lip before stepping back.

A metal lever stuck up from the floor beside the chair and the nurse pulled it forward. The chair flipped backwards. Water closed over Rachel. She choked, writhing against her bonds. Ice froze her skin to the point of pain.

The chair lifted. She gasped, sputtering. Water ran over her body. Her dress clung to her curves, revealing her pink skin.

“Again,” Doctor Louis said. The nurse pulled the lever. Rachel thrashed until the leather straps cut her skin. Her lungs burned for oxygen.

When she lifted free, Doctor Louis cupped her frigid chin. Her teeth chattered. Panic gnawed upon her senses. A myriad of emotions poured over her, but she couldn’t grab one to cling to; they slipped away too fast.

“No one cares what I do to you,” he murmured. “Nurse, get her something dry. We can’t have her dead on us. Yet. Then take her back to her bed. She won’t eat today. Perhaps tomorrow she’ll be more agreeable.”

“May the Saints pity you, for I never shall,” Rachel hissed.

The doctor sneered, pulling the lever to dunk her once more.

I can feel its presence as it draws near.

xtra, extra!” The newsboy waved a paper above his head. “City one step closer to catching the Staff Ring. Maid in custody.”

Ike ran to the news carrier, his heart thudding. “I’ll take one.” Ike fumbled in his pockets for coins he’d stolen from a businessman on his way to the street corner.

The newsboy accepted the five pennies and handed over the paper.

Ike tucked it under his arm and tried to slow his steps as he headed back to Hilda’s apartment. People didn’t look at him as they bustled past. “Edna,” Ike whispered, ducking into the doorway of a tenement. A gin addict slumped near the stone steps, a bottle clasped in his hands.