Page 44

T he next day, I still couldn’t stop picturing Lucy’s tortured face every time I closed my eyes.

If she hadn’t been a wraith in life, she’d become one in death, and she was haunting me.

I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t pay attention in class.

I was a total wreck. I’d tried to get Typhon alone, to get some answers, but he seemed to be as wrapped up in his own sheet as I was, and he seemed to look right through me, as haunted as me.

“Harlow?”

I blinked my gritty eyes and looked up to find Doyenne Parunah gazing down at me with a frown.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

I almost said I was fine, but it would’ve been a lie. I’d reached the end of my rope. I needed a mental health day before the thin veneer holding the cracks together gave, and I finally shattered for real.

“Actually, my head is pounding, and my throat is scratchy.”

Her lips pursed as she laid a clammy hand on my forehead.

“A bit warm, maybe. Head up to the infirmary and remind the nurse that you’re bunking with all your housemates.

If you’re contagious it might be better to keep you quarantined for the next few days.

You’ll miss the Samhain festivities this evening, but it is what it is. We don’t need the lot of you sick.”

I’d forgotten all about Samhain.

The others exchanged worried glances and Fable raised a questioning brow my way. I forced a smile as I wiggled my fingers at her. “I’ll be okay,” I mouthed before passing her on the way out.

She knew I’d been struggling, and in truth, this was probably better for all of them.

With the exception of Zeed, since our field trip with Typhon in the Dark Wood, they’d all been making great strides with their runes.

And, because they hadn’t seen what I’d seen with Lucy, they’d largely moved past it.

Having me hanging over the group like a black cloud certainly wasn’t going to help our freshly boosted morale.

Until I could get a handle on the swirling grief and helplessness I’d felt in the wake of the girl’s death, I was nothing but an unnecessary distraction.

I stopped at my dorm to drop off my books, and then made a beeline toward the kitchen.

Although my appetite had taken an unprecedented nose-dive since the other night, I felt a little panicked at the thought of being quarantined with only clear soup and dry crackers at my disposal.

I was no doctor, but it was common knowledge that true healing required chocolate, and going to the infirmary without a stash just in case seemed foolish.

A harried Mrs. Wickersham looked up from the bread she’d been kneading as I walked in, her shrewd eyes narrowing as she studied my face. “You’re looking rough around the edges there, Shortbread. I’d think you’d be on cloud nine about the feast tonight. What gives?”

I looked around and realized with a start that the kitchen was bustling even more than usual. It was only then that the sweet, heavenly scent of chocolate penetrated my daze, and I inhaled deeply.

“Just stressed and overtired.”

Mrs. Wickersham gave the smooth ball of dough one last slap before swiping her hands on her apron. “I’ve got just the thing.”

She led me to a tray full of fat spirals of puffed, flaky pastry layered with thick ribbons of semi-sweet chocolate.

“Pain au chocolat ... my favorite,” I murmured, throat tight that she remembered.

“You realize you say that about at least fifty percent of the things that come out of this kitchen, right?” she asked as she began plucking some from the tray and stuffing them into a white paper bag.

But her words didn’t dull my joy as I bit into one.

“You’re a goddess,” I mumbled, bending into a deep bow.

“Wait until you see the spread for the party tonight. Sweet potato and pumpkin pies, candied apples and caramel corn.”

And then Lucy’s face floated back to the forefront of my mind.

“Thanks again, Mrs. Wickersham,” I managed, stuffing the rest of my pain au chocolat into the bag with the others.

I was just down the hall from the infirmary when the bell rang for the changing of classes.

“Excuse me!” a low voice snapped just as a shoulder jostled mine.

I looked around to see Nikita bent over to retrieve the book I’d unwittingly knocked from her hands.

“Maybe if you watched wh–” the rest died on my lips as she straightened. Nikita might be a horrid witch, but she always – always – looked beautiful. Not today. Her red curls stuck out every which way, and her eyes seemed so sunken in and hollow, she could’ve passed for a ghoul.

Maybe she’d caught whatever Lucy had been afflicted with ...

“Nikita . . . Are you okay?”

She stared at my mouth for a long time, almost as if she didn’t understand what I was saying, and then she finally nodded.

“I’m fine.”

Looked like Nikita Pendergast and I finally had something in common. We were both ...

Fine .

Maybe now was the time to bury the hatchet. Extend the olive branch. And find out a little more about Lucy, if possible ...

“Look, I get it. I think I’m feeling the same way you are. What happened the other night was one of the worst things I’ve –”

“I’m fine, Daygon. If I’m having a rough morning, it has nothing to do with the other night.

That girl’s presence put every one of us in danger.

We will all sleep better now that she’s been .

.. neutralized. If I look distracted, it’s only because Typhon and Tarquinius are headed to a meeting at the Senate, and I’m stuck here on Samhain Eve making sure you and your reject friends don’t do anything stupid. ”

I should’ve said something snarky back, true to form.

Instead, it was all I could do not to weep with relief.

No rule of two. No Typhon or Tarquinius.

I’d spend my day in the infirmary and then, when the festivities started, I could head straight to the library and try to figure out who Lucy was, and why they were all so afraid of her.

The rest of my day didn’t go quite as smoothly as I’d planned, though. Instead of being left alone to get some rest, the nurse had put me in a room with a girl from House Kirinash who had the same symptoms as me.

“Must be a bug going around,” she’d said.

Which would’ve been well and good, except my new roomie talked the entire time. Not a lot of the time. Not most of the time.

The. Whole. Time.

“And that’s how I wound up staying at my Auntie Belinda’s house every summer shearing sheep,” she was saying.

I had tuned out at the halfway point, but she clearly expected some sort of reaction, so I nodded.

“Yeah, wow. That’s a crazy story.”

“You think that’s crazy? Wait until I tell you about my Uncle Cameron and his one-teated goat!”

“Um, hey ...” Lisa? Or was it, Laura? There had been so many words between the time she’d introduced herself and now, I couldn’t recall.

“Gloria,” she supplied helpfully.

“Gloria. Look, my head is really hurting so I’m just going to close my eyes for a few, okay?”

She shrugged. “Sure thing. I have to talk to the nurse about some stuff anyway. Sleep tight!”

She rolled out of her bed, and I let my eyes slide shut with a groan as she tottered out of the room.

Peace and quiet. Thank the gods above.

I started to nod off and by the time a low voice woke me, the room was dark.

“You awake?”

I blinked to find Fable standing over me, face so close to mine our noses nearly touched.

“Geez, woman. Can you give me a little space?”

“Sorry. You didn’t answer the first couple times.”

I pushed myself up to a seated position as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. “So, what, you thought I was dead?”

“Goddess, no. You were snoring like a sailor.”

I swiped at a little drop of drool on my chin and wrinkled my nose. “I guess I was really knocked out. What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Holy sheet!” I’d slept for nearly four hours. I turned to see an untouched tray of coagulated soup and crackers on a table beside me and frowned. “I missed dinner and everything.”

“You clearly needed the sleep. Which is why I hate to do this to you ...” Fable paused to chew on her thumbnail.

“Do what?”

“We’ve got trouble, Harlow.”

I blew out a sigh and shook my head. “Yeah, okay. That tracks. It has been like forty-eight hours, so ...” I waved a hand. “Spill it.”

“You remember how Marina and Ross and the others all wanted to go out for Samhain. Maybe try to find that fairy circle?”

I blinked up at her.

“Right. But that was just talk. You know, before a young woman hurled herself out the frucking window of the school.”

Fable lowered herself to the edge of the bed. “They’re stressed, Harlow. They’re nervous, and the pressure is mounting every day we’re here. I think they just really needed to let off some steam.”

“And what about you? You didn’t need to let off any steam?”

“I really wanted to go. Especially since ...” her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

Especially since Zeed was going to be there.

“But I knew you wouldn’t like it,” she continued on in a rush, “and you’re my best friend. So, even though snitches get stitches, I had to follow my conscience. If you’re still not feeling well, I can go talk to Doyenne Elmwood, no problem.”

“Nope. No way.” I kicked off the blankets and stood. “I’m feeling much better now that I got some sleep. How long ago did they leave?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes. They were going to see if they could sneak some brandy from the kitchens first, so they aren’t too far ahead I would guess.” She stood and steadied me with one hand as I yanked on my sheet kickers. “Harlow ... can you maybe not tell them that I –”

“Of course I won’t,” I said, almost offended at the very idea. “I’ll just say I was feeling better, went down to the party, and then got suspicious when they weren’t there.”

“Cool.”

Cool was exactly right, I realized a short while later as we stepped out into the brisk autumn air. “I should’ve brought my jacket.”

Bandit had tagged along and was ambling beside me.