Page 29 of The Whispering Night
Winnie pushes out a hand. She wants to feel the wall the signora backed her against. It is both solid and… not. This is no sturdy hemlock, no majestic oak. Nor is it a wild bush, with space for wind and creatures to weft through. The leaves and branches absorb Winnie’s palm’s pressure—but they don’t let her in.
She wishes Dad could see how much his maze has grown. The hedges consume all sight, all sound. His sketches across the family desk are a full-grown, proper maze. And honestly, the purple granite fountain doesn’t lookthatbad.
This is a place to get lost in.
And it is also a place to get found again.
At that thought, the last of Winnie’s demands for an adult slide away. Sand in an hourglass. Because one thing most people don’t realize about her is that she doesn’t like to be cornered. Tell her she is an outcast from the Luminaries and she must serve a punishment for ten years? Okay, fine. She’ll train on her own, enter the hunter trials, and get it done in four.
Oh, you want to hunt her ex–best friend and try to kill her aunt? That’s right: Winnie willliterallyburn you alive.
Big or small, high stakes or low, Winnie doesn’t like to have her back pressed against a wall. But it’s in those moments, when everyone looks at her and sees only weakness, that Winnie always,alwaysfinds her strength.
Or maybe it’s just spite. Never underestimate the power of Team Petty, after all.
Either way, the Crow made one hell of a mistake confronting Winnie here—right in the maze that Dad built. She’d have been better off leaving Winnie hanging after that breakfast introduction. She should have simply walked away and never initiated further conversation. Then the wholenot knowing what the Diana wantswould have sent Winnie into a stressed-out tailspin.
Instead, Signora Martedì cornered Winnie in a maze and literally pushed Winnie’s vertebrae, sacrum, and skull against a hedge wall. So now like oxygen and hydrogen leading to H2O, total clarity washes through Winnie’s brain. She has developed harpy-keen vision; she has grown banshee-fast muscles; she has earned vampira-sharp fangs; and most important of all, she has the loyalty of a bear that she isn’t afraid to use.
No one threatens Winnie Wednesday’s friends and gets away with it.
Andno onethreatens her family.
Winnie pushes away from the hedge. Its leaves rattle goodbye. The fountain burblesciao ciao. She won’t leave this maze the way she came in—Dad made three secret exits, and if she simply pushes a bit deeper, she will find one of those hidden portals out of here.
The sun rises behind her, bellicose and unyielding. Except now Winnie appreciates it.Warm me,she thinks as she digs her hands into her pockets.I’ve got a long walk ahead.
CHAPTER
14
The smell of heaven washes over Winnie as she steps into the Revenant’s Daughter. She is ravenous as an actual revenant—which, for the record, cannot have daughters.
“Winnie!” Mom pops up at the restaurant’s front. She looks as frazzled as Darian, and comparably worn down too. As if, after four years of putting up with whatever crap the Luminaries threw at her, her skeleton and organs have finally surrendered. It doesn’t help that the Daughter ispacked,mostly with foreigners who want to enjoy greasily authentic American cuisine.
“What are you wearing?” Mom asks, taking in Winnie’s suit with visible horror.
Winnie swats the question aside. She neither wants to explain the Midnight Crown, nor does she have the time. “Is Isaac Tuesday here?”
“Isaac Tuesday?” Mom’s eyes thin. “Yes. I just served him a Swiss melt. But Winnie, he’s, like, twenty-five. Way too old for you.”
Winnie does not respond to this because frankly it does not deserve a response. Mom knows she and Jay are together. Also,gross. Isaac Tuesday. She instead provides Mom with her flattest-eyed stare and asks: “Where is he?”
“Last booth, by the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” Winnie launches off, ignoring the vocalized outrage that chases after her because she has one thousand percent just cut in line.That’ll keep Mom busy,she thinks. Then she feels bad because she is onlyadding to Mom’s overwhelm—and isn’t she supposed to be helping Mom by playing a nice Midnight Crown?
As promised, Isaac sits in the booth by the door. Winnie spots his red hair first, which is so much like Katie’s, they could be brother and sister instead of simply cousins. He is chomping into his Swiss melt when Winnie pops into the seat across from him.
He stares at her, the sandwich paused halfway into his mouth.
“Hello, Isaac. I’m not sure we’ve met before. I’m Winnie Wednesday.”
He resumes chewing, an air of befuddlement settling over him like a cloud. From what little Winnie knows of him, this might also be his default expression. Katie has described him asthe definition of a himbo.
Isaac swallows. Then grabs for a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I know who you are. And I have a girlfriend already.”
“Yuck.” It’s bad enough for Mom to misconstrue the situation; it is less fine for Isaac to think Winnie is into him. She taps the side of her chin. “You missed a spot.”
