About fifteen years ago, consultants had been paid a great deal of money to rebrand Cresthill, the hospital where Ruth worked. They’d run ad campaigns showing smiling women holding sleeping babies, and older men looking on calmly as their blood pressure was checked. The cafeteria had been remodeled, the menu adjusted. There was a lot of quinoa now, and you could get sweet potato fries that were actually tasty. But the nurses and the therapists in the NICU hadn’t had a pay raise in ten years, and the premature babies didn’t notice that the lobby now had banquettes instead of benches and sofas. Susannah’s mother loved her job, and she liked several of the doctors she worked with, but she had dark things to say about management, consultants, and banquettes, which were designed to be sleek rather than comfortable.
On any night of the week, Susannah knew there were likely to be between two and a dozen babies in the NICU. There were so many things that could go wrong with babies. Every nurse knew this. You could even be born with all of your organs on the outside, though Ruth had explained to Susannah and Laura that fixing this was actually a fairly simple procedure. Complicated babies went by ambulance to Boston Children’s Hospital. But Ruth and her team of nurses were quite capable of handling most preemies.
A woman in a hospital gown, pulling an IV stand after her, came down the hall toward them. She was holding a bag of Doritos in the other hand, and Avelot stopped her. She said, “I’m hungry. Give those to me,” and the woman handed them to Avelot without hesitation.
“What?” Susannah said. “No!” She took the Doritos away from Avelot and gave them back to the woman, then hustled Avelot farther down the corridor. “You can’t just make people do things.”
“But I can,” Avelot said.
“Well, it’s an asshole move,” Susannah said. “You’re not going to do that stuff while you’re hanging out with me, okay?”
“But I’m hungry,” Avelot said.
“Then I’ll buy you something in the cafeteria,” Susannah said. In the end she bought Avelot three slices of pizza and two brownies (because Avelot did not know what a brownie was). While Avelot ate, Susannah thought about the problem of Laura. She had been pissed off at Laura many times in her life. It was, in fact, possible she’d spent more time being pissed off at Laura than otherwise, but the state had been comfortably mutual. And now? She had no way to describe what she was feeling. How could Laura have done what she had done?
“She fucking made me do laundry!” she said out loud. “That secret-hoarding bitch!”
Avelot, her mouth full of pizza, said, “Malo Mogge is a harsh mistress.”
“Not Malo Mogge,” Susannah said. “I’ve never even met Malo Mogge, and if I did I’d punch her right in the mouth. I mean Laura.”
Avelot said, “There are others who have done worse.”
“Yeah, but they’re not my sister,” Susannah said, brooding. Laura had been dead, and Daniel and Mo and oh my God that was so awful and she remembered, she remembered how awful it had been.
She said, “Are they going to be okay? Laura and Daniel and Mo?”
“Probably not,” Avelot said. She had finished both brownies and two pieces of the pizza. Susannah had met dogs who ate more slowly.
“What’s going to happen to them?” Susannah said.
“Anabin and Bogomil, and Malo Mogge, too, wish to see if your sister and your friends and myself may discover the key while they go on looking for it themselves. By the time the key is found, Anabin will have determined which two are best suited as replacements for himself and Bogomil, to take up duties on either side of the door. He will make his suggestions to Malo Mogge and either she will go along with them or she will not. The two who are not chosen to keep Malo Mogge’s door will die again and return to the realm from which they escaped, to wait for Malo Mogge to devour them, and Malo Mogge will be free at last to punish Bogomil however she might choose.
“Your sister and the others know only a small part of this, and you will not tell them, either, unless I decide that you may. It is to my advantage that they do not hold all the pieces, and I must take what advantage I can. Unless I am chosen to guard the door, Malo Mogge will offer my death to Thomas and then she will have me for her meat once I am dead.”
“You seem very calm about it all,” Susannah said. “But I’m kind of freaking out. How can we stop it? What can I do?”
Avelot stopped chewing. “You? Nothing. There is nothing you can do.”
Susannah said, “This is what Bogomil was trying, last year. With me. And it didn’t happen. He didn’t get what he wanted.”
“No,” Avelot said. “Instead everyone died.”
“Well, I can help. I’ll figure out how to help,” Susannah said. “No more dying, and definitely no getting devoured. But first I’m going to make Laura sorry she ever came back from the dead. Make me do laundry, my ass.”
But she could tell Avelot wasn’t thinking about Laura or any of this predicament at all. She was thinking about getting more pizza.
“Come on,” Susannah said, before Avelot could ask. “Let’s go see my mom. And just, don’t say anything. To anyone.”
Maude at the check-in desk waved Susannah and Avelot in, and Susannah stuffed both their coats in a locker and made Avelot wash her hands at the bank of sinks for the requisite minute and a half. Avelot did as she was told without asking why.
The first person they saw was a respiratory therapist, Paula. A huge oversharer, according to Ruth. But Susannah liked the pink streak in Paula’s hair.
“Your mom didn’t tell me you were coming by,” Paula said.
“Spur of the moment,” Susannah said. “This is my friend Ava. We do yoga together?” This, the first thing that came to mind. Yoga? What the fuck, brain? “She’s thinking about applying to med school. I thought I’d show her who the real heroes are.”
“Hope your grades are good,” Paula said to Avelot. “Your mom’s in Bay 4. Tell her I’ll be back with the blood gas results ASAP.”
“Come on,” Susannah said. When she looked to see if Avelot was following, she saw Avelot was now sporting a pink streak in her own hair. “Seriously? What is Paula going to think if she comes by and sees that?”
Avelot stuck out her lip mulishly. The pink streak remained.
“Fine,” Susannah said. “But it looked better on her.”
“Why are these babies encased in glass?” Avelot asked. “And how are so many so small? What is that uncanny light?”
“They were born too early,” Susannah said. “The Isolettes keep them warm and safe, and the purple light is ultraviolet. For jaundice. How are you going to get into medical school if you don’t know anything? Paula would be very disappointed.”
“I had a babe born too early,” Avelot said. “It slipped from me like a fish from a hand.”
Susannah said, “Oh shit. I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Avelot said. “It would not have had a good life. In its short life no man ever hurt it and neither did it cause any injury to another. Before you feel pity for me, you should know I have been thinking all this time about whether or not it would be right and meet to kill you.”
“Kill me?” Susannah said, then looked around to see if anyone had heard. But the NICU was mostly empty at this time of day. Various alarms sounded, shrill or soothing, as a baby’s heart rate rose or dipped, an oxygen saturation went below the level some doctor had determined to be reasonable. But these were small ripples in the calm of the NICU. No real crises were occurring presently. Here was the break room, with its beat-up sofa and shelf of romances and young adult novels, because nurses liked to know their happy endings were guaranteed, even if only in fiction. Here was the small closet where lactating parents went to pump breast milk and cry. In the fourth bay, Ruth, in one of her cheerful animal print scrubs, was holding a baby Susannah estimated to be about three pounds, joggling it against her chest with one hand while she unfastened an Isolette from its berth. She hadn’t noticed Susannah and Avelot yet.
“Why?” Susannah said. She was trying to understand what this peculiar person had just said to her.
“Because I don’t understand your part in this,” Avelot said. “You have been Bogomil’s tool, and he may still have some use for you. Why else would you still be living when you failed him previously? You may yet do great harm. I would take no pleasure in it, but your death might be a fitting gift for Anabin’s birthday, which is the task he has set me.”
Susannah knew she should have been afraid; instead she began to lose her temper. “You think my old music teacher wants my head in a box for his birthday for some reason. Okay. So why spend all this time hanging out? Why not kill me earlier? Did it seem like it would be more fun to wait and kill me in front of my mom?”
“I did not say I was going to kill you,” Avelot said. “I said I was thinking about whether it was the thing I was meant to do.”
Susannah said, “Can I make a counterargument? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Avelot said, “I am trying to stay alive. One day perhaps I will not need to cause harm to do so. But I have no magical box—no Isolette—to hide myself in where I can remain safe. And if I am not safe from the world, why should the world be safe from me? You have been in danger since the first time you saw Bogomil, and you are a fool if you do not see that you, too, are dangerous. That woman is gesturing at us.”
Ruth was waving them over, still joggling the baby. “Okay,” Susannah said. “Can we talk about this later? That’s my mom. Can you please be normal around her?”
Avelot gave her the kind of look that didn’t promise anything, and Susannah felt her first uncomfortable flicker of fellow feeling.
“Susannah,” Ruth said. She looked pleased to see her daughter and also a little anxious because Susannah didn’t usually show up at Ruth’s place of work without calling first. “Is everything okay? Who’s this?”
“Everything’s fine,” Susannah said, lying through her teeth. “My friend Ava and I went to the mall—this is Ava—and then I thought maybe we should come say hi. She really likes babies.”
“Good news for me,” Ruth said. “Ava, this is Hector. Hold Hector for me. Yes, good, just like that. Hector is a bad, bad baby. He pooped so explosively I have to go grab him a new Isolette. How do you and Susannah know each other?”
“The coffee shop,” Susannah said. “She loves muffins!”
Avelot, cradling Hector so tenderly within her arms that it astonished Susannah, said, “What is a muffin?”
“Ha ha ha!” Susannah said. “Ava does stand-up, actually. She’s always trying out new material. Go deal with the Isolette. We’ll hang out with Hector.”
Then, when Ruth had wheeled the Isolette away, to Avelot: “If you kill me, I hope you never ever find out what a muffin is.”
Avelot said, “Maybe if you tell me what a muffin is, I won’t kill you.”
“It’s another word for kale,” Susannah said.
“What’s kale?” Avelot said.
Susannah said, “It’s delicious. You should definitely try it. Just go ask for a big plate of plain steamed kale the next time you’re out to eat. Look, do you want to sit down in the lounger or something? I keep worrying you’re going to drop Hector on his head. Why don’t you get comfortable?”
“You think if I get comfortable then perhaps you may get away from me,” Avelot said. “I do like this. Holding Hector. He’s very warm and I like, too, the smell of the top of his head. But it would be easy to catch you again.”
“Then I’ll conserve my energy,” Susannah said. “Anyway, I don’t think you should kill me. I can think of practically a dozen presents that would be better. Like a thoughtfully selected book! Or chocolate!”
Avelot said, “Perhaps I could give him Hector. He seems like a delightful baby.” She didn’t remark upon the wires and cords that connected Hector to his monitor, the feeding tube taped to his nose, the cannulas in his nostrils, the tangerine Binky plugged into his mouth. Susannah felt that unwanted sympathy again. How strange it must be to find oneself arrived in the future. You wouldn’t even know the right questions to ask. What is a muffin? Should I kill this girl?
She said, “You’re forgetting the explosive pooping. And if he’s in here then he needs to be here. These guys have all sorts of issues.”
Avelot said, “Yes. I know. His heart was bad. But I have fixed it.”
“You fixed his heart,” Susannah said.
Avelot said, “Also his lungs. So there is no reason why he would not make a pleasing gift.”
Susannah said, “What about the other babies?”
“You think that I shouldn’t give Hector to Anabin, but instead I should give him every baby? Is one baby not enough?”
“No, I mean, could you fix all of the babies in here?”
Avelot closed her eyes and then opened them again. Hector was now awake. He squirmed in Avelot’s arms, beginning to cry. The movement dislodged his sat probe, and an alarm dinged. The Binky fell onto the floor. “I have fixed them all,” she said. “To the best of my ability.”
“How?” Susannah said.
“When we came out of Bogomil’s realm, Anabin gave us each a body. He made them part by part out of his magic so we could remain in this world. I felt what he did as he did it, and I remembered,” Avelot said. “That is how. But now I am hungry again and tired and I still don’t know what gift should be given to Anabin. Shhhh, baby. Don’t cry. It doesn’t help.”
Susannah said, “You fixed the babies? What if you did something wrong? Holy shit. The nurses are going to freak out. We should go. As soon as Ruth gets back we should leave. Just, I have to do one thing first. Don’t do anything else. Just sit there and don’t do anything.”
When Avelot nodded, Susannah went over to her mother’s workstation and tore a sheet of paper off the scratch pad. She tried to compose herself. Pretend she had come alone. There was no horror show of a girl who could, in the blink of an eye, solve the problems an entire NICU full of doctors and nurses and specialists and therapists spent all of their energy and time and focus on. A girl who was making up her mind on the subject of whether or not she should murder Susannah. She wrote on the sheet of paper: Dear Susannah, don’t freak out. But also, this isn’t a joke. If you’re still alive and Avelot hasn’t killed you, long story, there’s some stuff you need to know. Stuff you may not remember, because someone might make you forget. Laura can do magic. Also she and Daniel and Mo used to be dead. NOT IN IRELAND!!!! This she underlined. If none of this seems like it can be real, it means Laura has been messing with your memories. She can make you do stuff and you have to figure out how to stop her. Unfortunately you also have to help her because she and Daniel and Mo are in a lot of trouble. Some goddess named Malo Mogge wants to eat them. Also Bogomil is real???? Mr. Anabin is not a music teacher! Love, Susannah.
She put the date on the piece of paper, folded it up into a little rectangle, and stapled it. Her sister had been dead, and Mo, and Daniel. The other night she had fallen asleep in his arms and never known he had ever been dead. She wrote her name on the outside of the paper and said, “Hey, Avelot?”
“Yes?” Avelot said.
“Never mind. It’s a stupid idea.”
“Tell me,” Avelot said.
“It’s just, Mr. Anabin’s a music teacher. Whatever else he is, he’s that, too. So, can’t you get him something that you’d get for a music teacher? Like, what about a music box or something? He must have a favorite song.”
Avelot gazed down at Hector, who was still screaming out all of his rage or sorrow, whether or not it helped anything. Her hair hid most of her face, the stripe of pink looking like an attempt to be trendy, an area where Avelot had several irredeemable disadvantages. She looked as if she were whispering a secret to Hector. Probably telling him the world was a terrible place and even if he never meant to, he’d hurt people and people would hurt him. But as Avelot whispered to him, he stopped crying. And it was now that Ruth came back with a fresh Isolette.
“Mom?” Susannah said. She knew she sounded manic. Ruth was going to think she was on drugs. “We have to go. But first, can I give you something? I want you to hold on to it for me, and in a day or two if me and Laura are really getting along, like we aren’t fighting at all, I want you to take me aside and give me this note. Okay? If Laura and I are, you know, in a super awesome place and you’re just like, Wow, I can’t believe my daughters are getting along like this, you have to give me this. But you can’t read it. It’s private.”
“Is everything okay?” Ruth said. “Susannah?”
There was a fifty-fifty chance Avelot was going to try to kill her as soon as they left the NICU. Definitely once she tasted kale. And if Avelot didn’t kill her, then Laura was going to make her forget everything, and that made Susannah so angry she wanted to kill Laura. Basically murder was going to happen at some point, it was just a question of how soon. “Everything’s great!” she said.
“Then I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” Ruth said. “We’re all going up to the Cliff Hangar, still, for karaoke? Your dad texted. He says he’s in.”
Avelot said, “Here. I didn’t drop him.” She gave Hector back to Ruth.
Ruth, looking at the monitor, said, “One hundred percent! Hector, you overachiever! Let’s turn you down a bit.”
“Bye, Mom,” Susannah said. She grabbed Avelot by the arm.
Once they were in the corridor again, she let go. “Okay,” she said, pulling on her coat. “Let’s get this over with. Are you going to kill me or is there any chance we could just go to Paradise Point and get Mr. Anabin a gift card?”
Avelot said, “I have arranged for a gift. I think he will find it acceptable.”
“You got something for him while we were in there?” Susannah said, and then: “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’d hate to ruin the surprise. So, I guess, goodbye. I think you’re doing the right thing not murdering me.”
But when she looked at Avelot’s face, Susannah saw Avelot was still thinking about killing her. Every muscle in her body grew ready. She imagined shoving Avelot, running down the corridor. And Avelot getting back to her feet, inescapable as any monster in a slasher movie.
“I should kill you,” Avelot said. “It would make my path simpler. But there is your sister, Laura. And Daniel. Your friend Mo. If they discovered what I had done, they would require payment from me. And I do not know if I have the strength to stand against them. Already Thomas desires my blood.”
“Plus you can always decide to kill me later,” Susannah said. “If you change your mind. Right?”
“There is that, also,” Avelot said. “But for now, I will be your ally if you will be mine.”
“Like I need your help,” Susannah said scornfully. “You didn’t even know what a muffin was until I told you.”
Avelot grabbed Susannah by the lapel of her coat. Her hand dug into Susannah’s pocket and pulled out the Kleenex-wrapped splinter.
“Hey!” Susannah said.
“Take off your boot and your sock,” Avelot said. And though Susannah did not mean to do so, she found she was taking them off anyway. People passing by gave them curious looks. But none stopped.
Avelot knelt down. “Lift your foot,” she said. “No, the other one.” And Susannah did. Avelot drove the splinter up into the meat of Susannah’s heel, a hot, bright flare of pain.
Avelot, standing back up, said, “It’s better if you don’t remember this for now.”
“Oh,” Susannah said. “Oh no. You asshole! Don’t you dare!”
But Avelot went on and so Susannah had to go on listening.
“You and your sister had a quarrel about something very small. Nothing that followed was out of the ordinary, and in the future, should she attempt to work any magic upon you, she will find it has no effect. She may not command you nor may any other of your friends besides myself, though you will not remember I have said this. You do not remember any of the strange things I said or did. But you know I am your friend. This afternoon you enjoyed my company as I have enjoyed yours.”
“We should hang out more often,” Susannah said, meaning every word.
“It’s curious,” Avelot said. “I believe you have some access to magic, still. I feel it in you, pushing back at me. Some door you or some other opened by chance has not yet closed all the way. And yet you cannot find your way through to use it. What are you going to do now?”
“I should catch the bus home,” Susannah said. “I guess. You coming?”
“No,” Avelot said. “I find I am hungry. Perhaps this place will serve me kale.”