Page 38 of The Whispering Night
“And nothing.” Erica’s lips cinch sideways. “I’ll tell you more if I can figure out how to break the spell. Can wegonow?”
Marcia 2.0 indeed.Winnie waves her on.
The estate is eerily quiet. It’s not a place Winnie has ever entered while empty—because it is rarely ever empty. The only reason there’s no teacher or student or colorful librarian here now is because all Sundays are expected in the same parade as Winnie. But once that’s done? They’ll head back here. Luminaries training happens every day.If the forest never sleeps,then we can’t either.And as Darian’s schedule revealed, the Luminaries will move around training hours to ensure their youths miss nothing.
Clan banners hang in shadow. The Wednesday bear looks particularly grumpy—as per usual—because he is perpetually displeased by Winnie’s choices.Bold of you to come here, girl. You did kill the man.
“Because he was going to killme.”
“Huh?” Erica asks.
“Nothing.” Winnie aims pointedly for the stairwell at the hall’s end. She already has too many feelings to get to the bottom of—dead Dianas in the forest, the Crow at the breakfast, the spell currently choking her throat. Throw in a professor whom Winnie hated, and nope. Her brain really can’t grapple with that right now.
“Come on,” she commands when Erica lags. She clutches once more at her locket—still cool. “Let’s see what Professor Samuel was hiding.”
CHAPTER
18
What Professor Samuel was hiding is not obvious when Winnie and Erica reach his office on the third floor. Like all the other Sunday offices, there is no door—and therefore no lock. It’s as if the Sundays wanted to make an open floor plan inside a building that was not designed for it.
Or maybe their swan hearts just don’t like privacy.
Samuel has… no,hada corner space, giving him two windows: one which overlooks the parking lot and another which stares off toward the Monday estate. The brick campus is just visible over a stretch of trees. And somehow, despite the morning sun muscling in, his office is colorless and cold. There are no decorations on the wall, no photographs of family, and when Winnie opens Samuel’s filing cabinet, she finds nothing except tests, papers, and grade sheets.
Obviously Winnie knew they weren’t going to find blatant Diana paraphernalia, like rowan-wood medallions or a hound-shaped mask… And no, she wasn’t expecting a directory labeledWho’s Who: Dianas of Hemlock Falls. But still, this whole space is more barren than a desert in a drought. The only thing of interest in the entire wooden, un-carpeted space is a small telescope facing the northern window—and even that looks lonely and sad.
A worn book calledShooting Stars: Identifying Asteroids, Comets, and Meteorssits on the windowsill, but a quick flip through reveals no dog-eared pages or highlighted passages. As far as she can tell, Samuel just liked shooting stars.And now he’ll never see one again. Because of me.
“Find anything?” Winnie makes herself ask, shoving the book back onto the sill.
“Nope.” Erica offers this in a way that also declares,Just like I told you we wouldn’t last night.Which is true: she had said,Only a fool would keep their Diana stuff in their office.
“Think outside the box,” Winnie says. “What’s some inconspicuous stuff a Diana might have? What are some thingsyouhave?”
Erica’s mouth seams shut. Her arms fold over her in a physical manifestation of a castle portcullis lowering.
“A box of Band-Aids?” Winnie means this as a joke.
Erica doesn’t laugh.
“Look.” Winnie yanks off her glasses. Erica blurs away, her castle eroding to wind and weather. “I don’t really care what youcando ordiddo, E. What I want is to find your sister’s source before were-creatures, when in their animal form, are almost unkillable.Oh my god.” Winnie clenches her teeth so hard, her eardrums hurt. Then, with the same care she would apply to crossing a rope bridge over a ravine, she adds: “I… want to find Jenna’s source. But more than that, I want to know who in Hemlock Falls is a Diana.”Anyone could be a Diana. A Diana could be anyone.“So help me out here. Does anything look weird in this room?”
“I don’tknow.” Erica says this with siege engine force. “I was taught early on to keep my stuff in separate, unexpected places. Spots with no obvious connection to me in case—” She breaks off as a rumble vibrates into the room.
Winnie and Erica spring toward the eastern window. “Shit,” Winnie says at the same time Erica murmurs, “Well, this is bad.”
Thethisto which Erica refers are the five Tuesday Hummers now parking outside. Uniformed scorpions scuttle from each vehicle, carrying flattened cardboard boxes—although only three scorpions per vehicle because apparently Tuesdays can’t carpool.
Exiting the nearest Hummer—and the only scorpion without a box—is Jeremiah Tuesday. He glances up to Samuel’s office. His eyes meet Winnie’s.
“Shit,” she repeats, dropping to the ground beside Erica, whose reflexes were a split second faster.
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“It’s darker in here than out there.” Erica’s tone is more hopeful than convinced. “Let’s go.”
