The Hunting Ground by Cliff McNish

with a start, and only the untouch of her hand over his mouth prevented him from crying out.
    Eve bent down to his warm earlobe. ‘Come with me,’ she whispered.
    Ben glanced towards the sleeping Elliott.
    ‘No, not him,’ Eve said. ‘I want to show you something. He won’t let us go alone.’
    ‘But—’
    ‘No. Come on. This is just for us. A special thing. Come on.’
    When he hesitated, Eve smiled. It was a smile thatsaid everything would be fine, and because it imitated Cullayn’s smile, which had been drawing him to the East Wing for days in a way he could not understand, Ben followed her. The hem of Eve’s red dress swirled like a bridesmaid’s train against the musty carpet as she ran lightly from the room. Her feet sprayed dust. She was swift, and she trailed an arm behind her, like a mother guiding a child, and Ben put his larger hand around her small one and followed her out.
    She led him serenely down the sweeping oak staircase.
    The entrance to the East Wing was barricaded. Dad had screwed six sturdy planks of cherry rosewood in a cross-hatch across the entrance. Neither Ben nor any little girl, dead or otherwise, could have stripped them off without waking someone.
    Janey, demurely trailing in Ben’s footsteps, came forward. She’d already surveyed the house earlier tonight, especially this part. Her own weak wrists were fumbling ducks, but a tool merchant had hired her an electrically-driven bracketed screwdriver which could work efficiently in near silence.
    She methodically removed the planks. Ben ignored her presence. He was focused utterly on Eve.
    Eve gave Janey a measured glance when she was done. The glance was nothing like a child’s. ‘If we wait for long enough something wonderful might happen,’ shesaid mockingly in her sing-song voice, repeating Janey’s greatest hope for the ghost children.
    Janey did not react, but Ben did. Seeing the disharmony of the exchange disturbed the tranquillity of his mood. For the first time he felt slightly nervous. Eve realised that if she didn’t recover rapidly, Janey would have to take over, and Daddy would know she’d messed up. She didn’t want that, didn’t want him not trusting her, so she flung out both hands to Ben like a dancer offering the stage to a partner. She giggled. ‘Come on,’ she said, impatient, excited. ‘Into the lovely quiet and dark.’
    Ben let Eve’s hands guide him inside. He wasn’t quite certain why he was here – was a little confused about why he wasn’t asking questions – but Janey helped him, prodding his chin up to the portraits. Seeing them always made things clearer.
    Eve kept up a brisk pace. She didn’t give Ben much time to think. He accepted that, not even bothering to look far ahead because there was no light to see by. Curiously, the darkness did not seem anywhere near as bad or scary to him as it had before. Stumbling occasionally, he trotted along – trying to keep up with Eve – while Janey, unnoticed, followed behind.
    At the next intersection Eve took a tight right turn, slapping the walls as she went. As Ben hurried after her dizzy feelings overcame him. He stopped, lookingaround. Eve was unexpectedly gone. Her hand, the one which had so recently been holding his, was no longer there.
    Ben took a small step forward, suddenly frightened. Ahead of him a scrap of moonlight illuminated the floor.
    ‘Hey!’ he called, hearing Eve’s voice in the distance. ‘Where are you?’
    She was somewhere ahead of him, singing rhymes. A few rhymes he already knew. The rest related to dead people he had not heard about before.
    ‘ … T for Tobias, a swish of the scythe. And also for Tanya, who writhed and writhed. U is for Ursula, dead and drawn, V for Victoria, turfed by dawn …’
    She’s helping me to catch her up, Ben thought, not really listening. It felt like a game.
    He ran toward the sounds. Eve stayed just ahead of him, her words blurred by distance. As Ben turned left into a new corridor,