Page 24 of The Whispering Night
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If Winnie thought the speech was bad, what follows Dryden’s long-winded introduction is actually so much worse. She should not have gotten tea. She should not have eaten two beignets. She should not have passed Go and collected two hundred dollars. Instead, she should have fled while she had the chance, even if it meant stealing a canoe from the Saturday boathouse and paddling upriver to the Little Lake.
Painless, Darian? You call thispainless?
When she was at the podium, there were a hundred and fifty Luminaries slightly hazed by morning sunlight. Faceless, nameless—just eyes bearing down on her like all those will-o’-wisps in the forest. Now, however, she is having tomeetall of them, and they are no longer faceless. No longer nameless.
It feels like hours of being carted around by Dryden and Marcia to different Luminaries. Because ofcoursethe groups aren’t separated by their clans or nations—that would be too easy! Instead, they are dispersed and mingling like multicolored gumballs dumped on the floor. So at the Sunday table, Winnie meets a Norwegian Søndag, then an Italian Giovedì, then a Mexican Miércoles… Then it’s over to the Monday table, followed by the Tuesday table.
The Tuesday table.
Winnie is almost glad she is so overwhelmed, because she doesn’t have time to freak out about Jeremiah Tuesday. Instead, she is an asteroid caught in his planetary orbit, and while she definitely senses her slow approach toward him, she’s still in outer space. There are too many faces, too manynames, too many hands, so she can’t fully focus on the knots in her intestines.
At least not until the gravitational pull of Jeremiah Tuesday is too strong and she has burned into his atmosphere.
“Ms. Wednesday,” he says in a deceptively soft voice that always makes him sound like a radio host introducing jazz fusion to the night’s listeners. “It has been a long time.”
Winnie’s teeth start clicking.One, two, three. She stops them. “Yes.” She refuses to drop his blue gaze. Refuses to do anything other than look at him like an unabashed bear while he shakes her hand.
He has a firm handshake.
She makes hers firmer.
“Councilor Tuesday.” She pulls her hand back.Do not wipe it on your pants, do not wipe it on your pants.“May I meet your guests?” She veers her attention to the stunning woman at Jeremiah’s left, who has silvery hair in loose curls. It is artfully messy, and her fitted black dress makes her look like she stepped out of a black-and-white film from the ’50s. “I’m Winnie Wednesday, ma’am.”
“Caterina Martedì,” the woman answers, and a slow smile spreads over her Sensual-Seduction-red lips. Her fingers clasp Winnie’s. “Lead Liaison for the Martedì clan.”
They are warm and strong. And they are familiar.
Then there it is: a faint burn from Winnie’s locket. A heat to sparkle against her collarbone and transport her back in time to that night inside the forest, when fires burned and witches died. When Jay had to drag away Aunt Rachel to save her, and when Winnie—whether she will admit it or not—became a murderer. Because shehadto. Because it was the only way to fight against the Diana Crow trying to destroy her.
The same Diana who now stands before Winnie and holds her hand.
Cornices: These elected witches maintain roles of leadership within Diana society. To be eligible, one must have both skill and experience.
“It is so wonderful to finally meet you, Winnie. I have been waiting such a very long time.” The signora speaks with an accent—which she didnothave in the forest—and for a split second Winnie wonders if maybe she’s got it wrong. If this signora is only smiling so widely because she’s happy to be here…
But then Winnie’s locket heats a second time, and Winnieknowsshe is facing the crow from the forest. Thecornix.All that’s missing is the mask.
Signora Martedì smiles, like she can hear what’s happening in Winnie’s brain. “It is so very commendable, all you have done for this town—and for the globalLuminari,too.”
Winnie’s mouth opens. Then closes. She wants to say something like,I guess you would know,but all her words are splitting apart at the seams. They are nuclei bombarded into fission. If Winnie tries to speak, only gamma photons and radiation will come out.
For ten days, Winnie has been braced for fallout over what happened in the forest. Tuesdays coming for her or for Rachel or Jay or Erica… But on none of Winnie’s bingo cards was thereevera square that read:Diana leadership shows up in a room full of Luminaries.
And there absolutely, 100 percent, mostdefinitelywas never a square that read:Diana is also a powerful Martedì who can openly walk in front of Jeremiah Tuesday.
A Lead Liaison. Someone who can travel all over the world, to any Luminary outpost they want to visit, without anyone batting an eye.
Winnie knows she needs to say something. She knows she needs to emit coherent words with her tongue, lips, jaw, and pharynx. But instead, she just keeps glancing around her like,Oh my god, is anyone else seeing this?Which of course they aren’t seeing this because they don’t know that there are Dianas in Hemlock Falls and that this elegant woman in her tailored dress and perfect lipstick tried to kill Winnie ten nights ago.
Except… Jeremiah Tuesday.
He knows.
Not about Winnie, maybe, but he knows about the Dianas in the forest. Heknowsthere were dead hounds, murdered by flame. Heknowsthat Aunt Rachel fought against them. And he knows he has swept it all under the rug for over a week now.
And oh crap, there go the nuclei in Winnie’s brain again, except this time they’re undergoing fusion, forming helium from hydrogen and powering an entire solar system of ideas.This explains why Jeremiah barely interrogated Rachel. This is why there has been no uproar over the Dianas, no ringing of the alarm. Jeremiah Tuesday is keeping it all hush-hush for this powerful Luminary beside him.
