Page 91 of The Unknown

“Violet?” I whisper. “Are you awake?”

I peer inside, seeing an empty room brightened by two lit lamps, one on the dresser, the other on a table by the window. Violet’s old-timey Mrs. Semple gown sits neatly folded atop the immaculately made bed, next to an open suitcase full of tasteful separates from designers so high-end I’m sure I wouldn’t even recognize the labels. Beneath them is something else in the suitcase—a book just visible enough for me to make out the symbol on its cover.

A daisy wheel.

Curiosity tugs me into the room and to the bed, where I remove the book from the suitcase. It turns out to be a guide to hexology, its pages filled with arcane symbols of all shapes and sizes. I assume Violet brought it with her as part of research into her character. Mrs. Semple would know about such things, so it stands to reason that Violet would, too. But then I notice more books buried beneath the clothes.

A History of Witchcraft in New England.A Guide to Basic Spells, the title in white over a black background. A book emblazoned with a woodcut of a horned beast and a simple, chilling title—Demonology.

Yet the books aren’t as surprising as what I find at the bottom of thesuitcase. The object is oblong, plastic and shiny, like a giant beetle. I don’t need to pick it up to know what it is. I used to have one just like it fifteen or so years ago.

What I can’t understand, though, is why Violet has never, not once in all this time we’ve been stranded on New Avalon, told anyone that she has a cell phone.

June 15, 1926—10 p.m.

Even though only an hour has passed since my last entry, the situation, much like the storm outside, has gotten worse. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming séance, fearing what lay ahead. It tormented my thoughts so much that, just now, as Mrs. Semple and I readied the parlor, I said, “I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this.”

“My dear, I’ve already told you, it might be the only way.”

“But I’m scared about what the Darkness will say.”

Mrs. Semple tilted her head to look at me. “Darkness?”

I explained to her that it’s how I now refer to Azra. A proper name for something so evil.

“It’s interesting you should say that,” Mrs. Semple said. “I looked through some of my old books and read about the name Azra. It has both Hebrew and Arabic origins. In both, it means ‘purity,’ although I prefer the less commonly used translation: ‘light.’ I find it quite hard to believe something with a name like that would be entirely evil.”

“Then why is it doing this?” I asked.

“I suspect there’s a purpose for all of it. That Azra has something very important to reveal to you. Like a literal light guiding you. I think we have no choice but to see where it leads.”

Now the séance is set to begin in mere minutes. I told Mrs. Semple I wanted to freshen up in my room before we begin, and so I am here, scribbling these thoughts before it’s too late.

Because I don’t agree that there’s any light in the Darkness. There are ways of showing me things that don’t involve my new friends disappearing or making me think Daddy’s spirit is roaming the island. Mrs. Semple must be mistaken.

Or else she knows more than she lets on.

All this time, I’d found it admirable how she has shown no fear of the Darkness. I thought it meant I shouldn’t be afraid, either, even though I was—and remain that way. Certainly, Mrs. Semple wouldn’t want any harm to come to me. Yet harm did come to Katrina, Jonquil, and Mrs. Minafer.

Now, the more I think about it, what seems like bravery could also be interpreted as knowledge. She’s been so calm, even as woman after woman vanished from the island she calls home. I wonder now if that calmness stems from her having known all along what was going to happen.

Did Mrs. Semple know the others were going to be taken by the Darkness? If so, why did she allow it? In fact, why did she bring all of us to New Avalon? She never truly explained her reasons for doing so. Perhaps that was on purpose, because she feared it would make us suspicious.

Mrs. Semple is coming up the steps now. I hear her footfalls. “It’s time, my dear,” she calls. “Are you ready to begin?”

I’m not. I doubt I’ll ever be. But there’s no backing out of this. I can’t run away. Mrs. Semple is right outside the door now. Even if I can make it past her, I have nowhere to go. Not on an island. And not while the storm outside is ferocious. Rain pounds the roof and wind blows off the lake in gusts that shake the entire house. Making it worse is that Mrs. Semple is now knocking on my door, insisting I come out and begin the séance.

I have no choice. I must go through with it.

Even though I no longer trust Mrs. Semple.

Twenty-Four

The phone is old. A battered flip model that was out of date even back when I had mine. When I press the power button, nothing happens. But a dead battery doesn’t mean Violet should have kept it a secret. Brad said he and Loretta each had solar power banks. One or both might still be in this house, capable of charging Violet’s phone.

“My, you’re a curious one.”

I turn around and see Violet standing in the doorway, a hand on her hip. Instead of being angry, she seems oddly pleased that I’ve managed to discover her little secret.