Page 40 of The Hunting Moon
“Fun… day?”
“Oh yes.” The woman laughs, a wee twitter of sound. “I belong to three different clans—can you believe it? But saying, ‘Oh, I’m Professor Teddy Sunday Monday Saturday,’ is justsucha mouthful, don’t you think? I tried Sunmonsaturday too, as well as Satmonsunday, but it just didn’t have the right ring.”
But Funday most certainly does.In fact, there is not a single word to better describe this woman. It’s so appropriate, Winnie is left wondering why she has never heard of her—orseenher. Admittedly, Winnie hasn’t been allowed at the most popular Luminary haunts in four years, but a gal doesn’t miss a woman like this. She is like one of the cockatrice subspecies only found in the Pakistani forest, and there is no escaping all that plumage.
“Are you here for any particular reason, dear?” Professor Funday asks. “Or just to look around?”
Winnie swallows. She reallydoesn’twant help. Yes, she has a paper to write for Professor Samuel, but it has been four years since she was allowed inside this library. She kind of wants to savor that alone.
However, before Winnie can answerI’m just here to browse,Professor Funday claps her hands and says, “Oh, my! What a lovely necklace! Does it stand for something?”
“Ma’am?” Winnie claps a hand over her locket. “Stand for… something?”
“Yes! You know—like how ancient Luminaries used to use the crescent moon and stars as a way to send messages. The number of stars and the arrangement of the moon meant different things. Is that what your necklace is for? A secret message?”
Winnie feels as if the breath has been punched right out of her. Hermouth sags open. Her brain clunks to a grinding slog.Send messages. Arrangement of moon and stars.Could that be why Dad left the necklace in the attic? Was he trying to say something more than what Winnie figured out with his map?
It seems unlikely he would have known such a specialized corner of Luminary history. Not to mention, this locket belonged to Grandma Harriet first.
But it also feels like way too big a coincidence to completely ignore.
“Moon and stars,” Winnie blurts. Then she flushes and swallows. “I mean, what you just said about the moon and stars. Do you have any books on that?”
Funday blinks behind her own glasses, her eyelids briefly lowering like two orange garage doors. She scratches at her chin. Foundation smears onto her fingers. “We certainly don’there—that’s quite a niche topic. But I can dig up some titles if you’d like and see if the Monday library has them?”
Winnie nods eagerly. “That would be so helpful. Thank you!”
“Of course!” Professor Funday beams. “You know, you remind me of myself at your age, Ms. Wednesday, and the pursuit of knowledge is always a virtuous one!” She bustles past, a staggering blur of color and dimension. “I will find you in the basement once I have those titles for you! Oh, and do be warned: the basement is positivelyfreezing.”
CHAPTER23
It truly is freezing in the basement, yet this is a small price to pay to for the peace and quiet of it all. Unlike the library’s upper floor, the basement is a long rectangle with gray stone walls and floor-to-ceiling shelves, as well as rows of gleaming tables and cubbyhole desks where computers await. Wooden chairs are arranged between the tables, and occasional leather armchairs rest at stately angles in a few odd corners.
It’s how Winnie imagines a secret speakeasy might look, except instead of alcohol, the proprietors are gathering books.
There are no windows down here; everything is lit by amber wall sconces and little desk lamps; and since Winnie is currently the only person around, none of those lamps are on, leaving the whole space dim.
And silent.
Blessedly silent.
Jay wasn’t wrong on Saturday night when he said parties weren’t Winnie’s scene. Libraries and books will forever be more her speed, no matter how cold it might get down here.
Winnie ducks into the closest cubbyhole, a stone nook that sinks into the wall with a desk and a computer. She drops her backpack onto the scratched surface of the desk.Flip,goes the lamp’s switch.Beam,goes the light—andow.It sends her shadow straight across the room, huge and menacing.
Before Winnie can settle in to start reviewing her admittedly scant notes from Samuel’s class, Funday arrives to tell her that “there are no books onthat ancient messaging system in Hemlock Falls. But do not fret, my dear, for there is one in Italy, and I have already requested the Lunedìs send the title to the Monday history library here! So you need not travel all the way to Italy to fetch it.”
Funday also gives Winnie a fond pat on the shoulder. “Perhaps you too will change clans one day, once you have absorbed all the lessons the Wednesdays can provide. I haven’t tried them yet, but who knows? When I feel my work here is done, maybe I will next become a bear.” She opens her arms, bangles clacking, and then, with a quick shiver and mumble aboutfrostbite,she meanders once more upstairs.
Change clans.Winnie didn’t even know you could do that, and she wonders which clan Funday was actually born into. What a kooky, fascinating lady. Someday, when Winnie isnotstuck writing a paper for the grumpiest Sunday who ever lived, she will actually ask Funday about her past.
Winnie has only just finished pulling out her class notes from Samuel and then grabbing extra chairs for her cubbyhole when Bretta comes skipping down the stairs. Fatima is right behind. “Emma is taking the elevator,” Bretta explains, plopping down next to Winnie. Fatima drops to Winnie’s other side. “You got here fast.”
“Yeah, I didnotwant to deal with Marcus.”
Fatima and Bretta both roll their eyes. Kind Emma, who is now arriving from her elevator ride, coos, “Aw, but he means well.”
“No,” Winnie replies. “He really doesn’t.”
