Chapter 16
Iwoke up with unexpected clarity.
My headache was gone. The strange, feverish sensation that had been running all over my body like unwelcome fingers was also gone.
I could hardly recall the sensations of the previous night, and would have thought I’d imagined them, were it not for the memories that still lived, fresh and sharp, inside my head.
I rolled over and checked the pouch by my bed, reaching into the folds of velvet, even as I knew what I would find: nothing at all. The sea glass was gone.
I turned an accusatory stare on Freya, whose expression seemed to say, “What did you want me to do? Some things are outside our control.” This felt like a particularly complicated thought for a cat, until I reminded myself that familiars were not simply cats, but something else entirely.
I nodded at her, acknowledging the impossibility of the situation, and she curled back up to chase a bit of the sleep she had surely missed during her night on watch.
I was exhausted too, but I didn’t go back to sleep, though I could easily have done so.
Instead, I was seized with a manic sort of energy as I tossed off my covers, rose from bed, and dressed myself.
As though I had been actively plotting and planning while unconscious, a plan bloomed, fully formed, in my head.
I needed more information about demons, and I didn’t dare look for it in my own house.
I would visit the bookshop and throw myself on the mercy and discretion of Susan and her bookshop cats.
Hopefully, she could help me find what I was looking for without asking too many questions.
I threw on the first clean clothes I could find, and then approached the bathroom cautiously.
I hovered in the doorway, hating the fact that I was afraid.
The hand towel from last night was still draped over the edge of the bathtub, and my mother’s bottle of elixir still stood on the sink beside the little silver cup she used to dose it.
I stood on my tiptoes and peered into the basin of the sink, but there was no sea glass.
I heaved a sigh of relief and entered the room.
I brushed my teeth and even forced myself to look into the mirror, but only my own face looked back at me—skin pale, eyes owlish behind my glasses, every muscle taut with stress.
I looked like death, I decided dispassionately, but that was okay.
My internal scales were unbalanced, or whatever the hell my mother had said.
That could make a person look like death, right?
It would have to be excuse enough, because there was no fixing it.
I piled my unruly curls into a bun on top of my head, and headed for the stairs.
The examination began as soon as I entered the kitchen.
Rhi descended upon me with an expression so clinical that she looked almost exactly like my mother.
She took my face in her hands, and stared so intently into my eyes that it felt like she was reading something written on the inside of my skull.
“Hmm, I see what you mean, Kerri. You were right to dose her last night. She should probably have some more this afternoon,” she said. “How are you feeling, Wren?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Just kind of tired.”
“The fever is clearly gone. Do you still have the headache?”
“No.”
“Anything else? Chills? Dizziness?”
“Not anymore,” I told her.
She relaxed, finally releasing her grip on my face. “Excellent.”
“You should still take it easy today though, Wren,” my mom said, after she had performed her own cursory examination. “No magic. None at all.”
“Seriously?” I asked, my heart sinking.
“Seriously,” she replied sternly. “I’ll let Persi know your divination practice is canceled today.”
I tried to look disappointed, but the truth was that I didn’t want to be trapped in a small space with Persi today, not when I had other plans. Besides, I knew she didn’t want to teach me anyway, so it was a win for both of us.
“Okay. I guess I’ll just stick to my research,” I said.
My mom frowned. “Wren, the point is to take a break, not bury yourself in work.”
“I know, but I can’t just sit around doing nothing, Mom. It’ll just make me more anxious. Flipping through a stack of books isn’t going to hurt, is it, as long as I don’t do any spells?”
My mom’s frown melted into an approximation of a smile. “All right. But not all day, honey. You need to recharge your battery. The stress and pressure of all this Darkness business is getting to you.”
I hadn’t expected such a perfect opportunity to propose what I wanted to do, and I jumped on it. “I think, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take a walk. Clear my head.”
My mom’s smile widened. “That’s a great idea. Maybe see what Eva or Zale are up to. Just be a normal teenager for the morning.”
“Okay,” I said, and then my eyes fell on the shape of Persi’s workshop squatting in the garden. “Do you want me to tell Persi on my way out? That our lessons are canceled?”
My mom and Rhi shared a swift but obvious look before Rhi said, “I’ll tell her. She’s… occupied at the moment.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them. They were both terrible liars. It seemed to be a Vesper family trait. Well, aside from Persi, who lied as easily as most people breathed.
“Occupied with what?” I asked.
“Oh, you know…” Rhi said airily, her voice trailing away into a non-answer.
“No, I don’t know,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can you elaborate?”
Rhi glanced at me and sighed, deflating at once. “She’s just… sulking.”
“Sulking?” I asked.
“Grieving,” my mom clarified.
“Oh.” That hadn’t at all been the answer I’d expected, and it surprised me. No one talked about Bernadette in our house—it was an unspoken rule that we all followed. But at least now I knew that everyone else had noticed Persi’s sunken emotional state.
“Do you think she’s… okay?” I ventured.
My mom sighed. “She says she is.”
“And she’s lying,” Rhi said.
“Do you think we should… I don’t know, check on her?” I asked.
Rhi looked alarmed at the very idea. My mom snorted. “I’d prefer not to lose an eye,” she said. Then, seeing my expression, she added in a more consoling tone, “We’re keeping an eye on her, honey. Let us worry about Persi, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.”
I hesitated. On the one hand, I didn’t like the thought of Persi all by herself, stewing in the worst of her feelings. On the other hand, as my mother had said, I had enough to worry about, and she didn’t even know the half of it.
“Okay,” I said, giving in. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Text me and let me know where you wind up, okay?” my mom called after my retreating back.
“I will,” I called over my shoulder.
Downtown was quiet under a fresh dusting of snow.
I felt calmer now that I was out of the house and moving toward a destination.
It felt good to have a plan, even if I wasn’t sure it would work.
A rosy light shone from the bookshop window as I approached.
I fixed my eyes on it, a moth to flame, and tried my best not to glance up at Granny Nightjar’s windows above.
I had a terrible feeling that, if I let my eyes wander, I would see her stirring behind the curtains, watching me from the mysterious depths of her veil.
I knew that she probably understood exactly what was happening to me, but the thought of returning to that dim, perfumed room, and trying to untangle answers from the riddles she spoke in made me feel nauseous.
She scared me more than the visions, and so I walked straight for the bookshop door, and opened it.
The interior was warm and cozy. There was Susan behind the counter, a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. She looked up as the jingle of the bell announced my arrival, and smiled warmly at me.
“Wren. You came back,” she said. Her eyes over the spectacles perched on her nose were sparkling with welcome.
“I said I would,” I told her.
“Carved out a bit of time for reading, then, have you?” She asked.
“I guess so, yeah,” I replied, not quite meeting her eye. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the kind of reading she had in mind.
I started wandering the shelves. I had no idea where to find what I was looking for.
I could hardly ask her where her demon section was, though I supposed there was a better chance of that in a Sedgwick Cove bookstore than in your typical one.
I skipped over all the fiction shelves, and moved toward the sizable “Magic and Witchcraft” section.
It was full of the kinds of books I’d expect tourists to buy, and I knew after just a few minutes of browsing that I wasn’t going to find what I was looking for.
I worked my way through the rest of non-fiction and finally, after fruitlessly searching the “Self-Help” and “Cookbook” sections, I knew I had no choice. I had to ask for help.
Susan looked up pleasantly as I approached the counter. “What can I do for you?”
“You’ve uh… been to Shadowkeep before, right?” I asked. “The real Shadowkeep, I mean?”
Susan’s smile widened. “Of course. Many times. Your aunt makes the most effective remedies I’ve ever tried. My own skills in that department are woefully inadequate.”
“Right. Well, I was just sort of wondering if your bookshop had a similar… section?”
Susan’s smile transformed into a grin. “Yes, of course. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
It was my turn to smile, albeit sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if—”