Page 43 of Her Magic Light

I ran my fingers over everything again, reverence in my movements. Then I asked a question I needed to know the answer to, even if I was scared I’d get the wrong one. “Do I get to keep the flashlight?” I coveted that tiny patch of light.

My gaze followed it greedily. In that moment, it was very definitely my precious, no matter how casual I tried to sound about it.

I glanced in Locke’s direction, the movement instinctive, even though I was barely able to make out his profile.

He heaved out a sigh. “On this occasion, and against my better judgment and all the words of caution I have in me, yes.” He sounded utterly defeated, and I nearly giggled. “I’m supposed to leave it with you.”

He must have found himself in quite a predicament earlier.

“Well, say what you really feel, Locke.”

He had the good grace to laugh. “You need to keep it all hidden, though. I’ve essentially delivered contraband, and I’ll deny all knowledge if it gets found. This is contraband. You’ll be on your own if someone else finds it, so keep it back here behind this wall.”

A shiver that was equal parts apprehension and excitement seized me. The urge to draw was so strong that any conditions were worth adhering to.Thank you, Coop. Thank you, whoever.

I nodded even though Locke probably couldn’t see the movement.

“I’ll be careful,” I breathed.

sixteen

Idrew long into the night, smudging pastels and creating colors to try to show the light hitting Dr. Anderson’s strange glass yard. Then I focused on my hummingbird. Colors blurred in front of me as I drew her from memory. When I was exhausted, I pushed the pastels and papers away and crawled into bed.

My stomach rumbled as I settled. Locke hadn’t told anyone to send me food, or if he had, no one had bothered. Still, I was too wired on adrenaline and color to care. I closed my eyes and went to sleep content.

I was woken again not long after. Someone was jiggling the door on my cell, and I leapt out of bed to hide the things Locke had brought. There was nowhere for them to go, so I shoved them beneath the thin blanket on my bed and covered them up as best I could.

I should have thought this out better.

I was standing by the sink when Coop called out.

“Meira?”

“Yes?”

“I’m coming in.” That was it. No inquiry as to whether I was dressed or in bed. He was simply coming in.

He stomped in with a powerful flashlight in his hands. He shone the light in each corner and around the room.

“What are you doing?” My mouth dried as I watched him.

“Searching.” But he didn’t say anything else. Clearly, the art supplies hadn’t come from him. Though, he knew about them. If they’d not come from Coop and my heartfelt plea, where had they come from?

He shone the flashlight at me briefly, and I closed my eyes on a reflex so I wasn’t dazzled. Then he swiped his fingers over my cheek, the gesture almost tender. “Firetruck red,” he murmured, and I flinched.

He walked over to my bed and I nearly put my hand out so I could stop him, nearly pleaded with him not to look, but I stood still and silent, instead. He whipped the blanket back and paused for a moment as he looked down. Then he slowly rearranged the blanket over the crafting supplies and switched off his flashlight.

My eyes widened. Maybe he had been the one to send them. Maybe he’d only wanted to see what I’d done with them.

“You need to come with me for testing.” His voice was gruff.

I opened my mouth to speak but I didn’t have words straight away. What the hell had just happened? Then I gave myself a shake and straightened, focusing as my stomach rumbled, the sound hollow.

“I don’t think so. This morning, I want a shower, a change of clothes, and a decent meal, or aren’t you even feeding me anymore?” What might have come out of my mouth sounding brave almost left my knees weak because it was only bravado. “I’m supposed to be a guest, remember?”

But I had no power in this place what-so-ever.

Not yet, anyway, I reminded myself.

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