Page 102 of The Whispering Night
Thewhendoesn’t matter, though. It’s thewhatthat makes all the difference.
“Winnie,” Ms. Morgan says, but Winnie is outside her body now.Somewhere several feet to the right. She doesn’t feel Ms. Morgan’s hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t feel the glacial caress of a spring night. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“What do these words mean?” Winnie’s voice is even farther away than her body. An echo in a canyon.What do these words mean, mean, mean?She points to a title written at the top of the page. “What does this mean, Ms. Morgan?”
The teacher frowns, squinting at the paper. “We need tomove,Winnie. We can look at that paper once we’re away from here—”
“This is Latin, right? So what does this mean in English?Incantamentum Purum Cor?”
Ms. Morgan blinks. “What did you just say?”
“Incantamentum Purum Cor,”Winnie repeats, and she once more holds out the paper for Ms. Morgan to see.
Ms. Morgan snatches the paper from Winnie’s grasp, her eyes growing rounder by the second. She holds the page up, trying to get enough light from Archie’s funnel cake stand. “Oh god,” she breathes, and the words are more prayer than curse. “Oh god, Winnie. Where did you get this?”
“It means Pure Heart, doesn’t it?Incantamentum Purum Cortranslates into ‘Pure Heart spell.’”
Ms. Morgan eyes shutter. “Yeah. That’s exactly what it means.”
“And what does it do?” Winnie has a pretty good guess where this going. The letterEin her alphabet, forexplosion.Foreruption.Forend of everything.“This isn’t a self-feedingfamesspell, is it, Ms. Morgan?”
“No, Winnie. It’s not. It’s far more powerful.” Ms. Morgan rolls up her hoodie until her Gone Fishing shirt is revealed underneath. “In fact, it’sthemost powerful spell Dianas have ever discovered, meant to awaken the sleeping spirit.
“And if thePurum Coris what your dad was trying to stop four years ago—ifthat’swhat just chased us off the bridge, then dear god, Winnie. This is so much worse than I was fearing.”
The Pure Heart Spell
(Translation by Leona Morgan)
In the forest, dead of night
With Lyrid stars falling bright
Granite safety, walls for height
The mist will gather in.
Nightmare father, gone and slain
Lantern mother, spirit’s bane
Son of forest, son of pain,
Pure Heart
Trust the Pure Heart.
Feed it, tend it, hunger strong
Let it grow, spread its song
Pure Heart,
Trust the Pure Heart.
Dawn will rise, casting light
No more Lyrids falling bright
