Page 132 of The Whispering Night
Not that anyone really expects to see her again.
The Saturday estate is bedazzled to a whole new level for the ball, the dramatic decorations from the breakfast now applied to theentireestate. Even the damaged maze has been decorated with lights and baubles that give it a distinctivelyWicked Fairy Talevibe.
The main lawn is also transformed, the Nightmare Stage complete and a massive temporary dance floor assembled on the grass. Crystalline torches (which also act as heaters) flicker with real flames, while nightmarish ice sculptures lurk in secret shadows made from towering cypress trees. Dry ice seeps outward in lazy spirals.
Because the Hunters’ Feast was canceled this year, the various globally imported ensembles who were scheduled to play that day were unable to perform. So now all those bands get to play on the Nightmare Stage instead, while the usual four-string quartet has been punted over to the maze.Explore the Wicked Fairy Tale and enjoy some Mozart!
When Winnie and her friends reach the lawn’s edge, a band from the Pakistani branch of the Luminaries sings in Urdu while hundreds of costumed “nightmares” dance and laugh and gleam.
At Winnie’s request, the group huddles in one of the dark corners protected by cypresses. Dry ice pumps around them and a wyrm ice sculpture snarls menacingly. Winnie isn’t ready to be recognized; she isn’t ready to abandon the shadows. Johnny Saturday called herthe Hero of Hemlock Falls, and thanks to her cousin Marcus, everyone has turned the previousAroo!into aHerooo!
“Ooh, there’s Xavier.” Fatima points toward a collection of juniors at the closest refreshments table. “Wow,his costume is awesome.”
“Seriously,” Bretta agrees. “How did he get his hood to look so much like a banshee?”
“Let’s go ask him.” Fatima grabs Bretta’s arm, then Winnie’s wrist. “Come on. We can’t hide here forever.”
Winnie doesn’t come on. “You all go without me, please. I’ll join you in minute. I need to, um, find someone else first.”
“Ooooh, Winnie wants to find herboooooyyyyfriend.” Bretta hip-bumps Winnie. Then curses when one of her branches gets stuck in Winnie’s hair.
“No,” Winnie insists while she and Bretta disentangle. “I actually want to find my mom… and my dad.” It’s strange to say that word. But also amazing.
“Aw,” Emma coos, her posture melting and her phoenix flames sparkling. “Are they dressing up tonight?”
“I don’t know. All my mom said was that I’d have no trouble findingher.” Which, in Francesca Wednesday speak, could mean just about anything.
“Well, good luck.” Fatima’s eyebrows bounce. “We’ll talk to Xavier and then head over to the stage.” She grabs Bretta again, this time latching onto Emma instead of Winnie. Then the three girls—and Katie and Angélica with their swinging tails—hurry off.
Which leaves Winnie alone in her secret corner with Erica. Her Thursday friend takes two steps toward the lights. Then pauses. Then looks back and gives a high-pitched, self-conscious laugh. “So this is… uh, kind of weird, right? I mean, all of us just being friends like it’s totally normal?”
“If by weird, you mean it’sawesome.” Winnie dips closer. “Then yes. Yes, it is.”
Erica blushes. But it’s a happy sort of blush, even as she rolls her eyes. “Okay, Winona. Don’t gettooWednesday on me.”
“Oh, you love that I’m a Wednesday.” Winnie bats her eyelashes and leans in even closer. “Bears, after all, give the best hugs.”
And now Erica gives a very round, very real laugh—one that bubbles out more brightly when Winnie wraps her arms around her friend and squeezes.
“Oh my god,” Erica says between giggles, “you really haven’t changed in the last four years. Same old Winona ignoring all my boundaries.”
They both know that’s not true, of course. Not even a little bit. Winnie herself erected such vicious boundaries that no one got past the tarps or barbed wire for four years. And for all that Erica has, quite literally, let her hair down tonight…
She’s still got the Ice Queen inside her. She still has too much grief to simply shed in a few days.
Still, Winnie knows what Erica isactuallytrying to say. She hears the harmonic overtones, and she agrees. Because although neither girl is who they used to be, there are still pieces of them that haven’t changed. That never will. After all, culture runs thicker than blood in Hemlock Falls.
And so does family. So do friends.
“Go find Jay,” Erica commands, still laughing as she finally shimmies out of Winnie’s hug.
“I’mreallynot looking for him, though!” Winnie tosses her hands. “Why does no one believe that I want to find my mom and dad?”
“So what if I say I see Jay right there?”
Winnie spins around, fast as a torpedo and with her heart ballooning. But of course, there’s no Jay. There’s absolutely nothing at all except an ice wyrm.
“Man,Winona!” Erica gives a full-blown guffaw, clapping like the trickster she is. “You should have seen your face just now.”
