It’s time to get into the home stretch of Chapter Twenty-seven, and this is where it begins: back at the hospital and up somewhere I’ve never traveled before. Actually, this chapter has already gone places I’ve never been before–the astral realm–and there won’t be a scene anywhere within this chapter that doesn’t technically go outside of one of the buildings at the school. I say technically because when Deanna crossed from Åsgårdsreia Tower to the Great Hall she had to use the outdoor walkway to get there, but she wasn’t outside: she remained on the plain where it doesn’t rain in Spain.
Now, I’ve written things where the kids remain indoors for the chapter, but those scenes usually involve class. This doesn’t. This is something–well, you’d likely say medical. And it is. Which is why so much of this chapter takes place inside the hospital. And now we not only see a little of the hospital we’ve never before seen, but you’re gonna get some history as well:
All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015, 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)
There were five levels to the Salem hospital. Originally the ground floor area consisted of the ward, a small operating theater, and the doctor’s office, while the supply room and the morgue occupied the lower level. Once the first floor was added to the east and west side sections beyond what later became the Dining Hall, that became the new Isolation Ward. Upon the completion of the second floor the Isolation Ward and operating theater were moved there while the first floor became the new main ward. It wasn’t until 1786 when the third flow was constructed that the hospital took on its current layout, with the second floor becoming the intensive care ward and operating theater and the first floor left as the main ward and office, the ground floor was used exclusively as storage, and the morgue remaining on the lower level.
The third floor was used for many thing over the last two centuries: isolation from infectious diseases, a holding area for the insane, and even a quiet ward for those close to death. In the last fifty years the third floor remained empty, and it wasn’t until Coraline became the school’s full-time doctor that she began using the floor as a secure area to conduct examinations and hold meetings. She had computers and holgraphic displays installed, and having most of the space enchanted in the same way as the Dining Hall so she could configure furniture as required.
All of these were employed before Coraline’s guests showed. The computers were on and the main holographic monitor was active, with both tired into Sabrina, the school’s artificial intelligence. A long table with everyone’s lunch order sat out of the way, and a large circular table with four chairs was set up closer to the holographic display so the group could pull up information while eating.
The floor was ready: all that remained were the members of the brain trust to arrive.
Erywin and Jessica arrived on time, as Coraline expected. She glanced about the open space as Jessica and she crossed the eight meters from the lift to the holo display. “Where’s Deanna?”
Finally I get up to the third floor of the hospital, a place I’ve known about for some time.
In my original design of the Great Hall I worked up the hospital:
But while I knew the third floor was there, I couldn’t show it because the computer I used to render these plans was freaking out a little due to the processing requirements. But I know about this floor because–oh, that’s right, I can’t tell you. Spoilers.
I’ve also known about the history of this building because . . .
Here, in condensed form, is a few hundred years of Salem construction history. Most of the high points are shown, and I’m certain as time goes on, when I think of something that needs adding–and looking at this I already know it’s needed–then I’ll put it in.
This also means that the events happening in this part of the book are also in my time line, so they are known. And they are coming. And there’s going to be little that can stop them.