Page 85 of Shadows of Perl
“My team and I are going to check out this last location tonight.” Her fingers play on my shoulder, then drop to the dip in my shirt. “What do I get if I’m the one who finds the girl?”
“Yani, please.” I remove her hand and stand, putting distance between us. “Keep me posted on what you find tonight. I’ll be at Hartsboro.” I leave her there, moving to exit the room.
“You’re not as fun as you used to be,” she says to my back. “You’ve changed.”
Tell me about it.
Twenty-Eight
Quell
Hartsboro swarms with people. I tuck my purpled fingers in the pockets of my dress; pain pulses in my bones, up through my hands, radiating into my arms. I hurry through the crowd to find Beaulah’s Healer. I intend to try my magic again. If that’s what I could do the first time I pushed my magic, how much more could I do with practice? But I can’t do anything with this much pain. On the door is a note: in the north wing all day.
Adola’s map of the grounds takes me past large windows; outside, oversized tents are being erected on the grass. A large tapestry woven with Adola’s face hangs in the Sphere room. The whole estate buzzing with anticipation; I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. There is no sign of her anywhere. Across the estate the entire wing of student and maezre dorms are roped off with caution tape.
“Hello?” I’m listening for a heartbeat or footsteps when a door flies open and Beaulah’s Healer comes storming out.
“The whole wing has to be fumigated again.” She huffs. “Miss Marionne?”
“I’m sorry to bother you.” I hold up my hands.
She straightens her glasses. “Anywhere else?”
“I don’t think so.”
She sighs.
“If it’s a bad time—”
“No, come along.” She leads me into one of the rooms and has me sit down and hold out my hands. Still stewing, she examines them on both sides before pulling threads of magic between her fingers and massaging them along my skin. It takes several tries; she seems to grow only more frustrated, muttering under her breath. But when she finishes, the pain has subsided, and the bruises appear to be lessening.
“On the mend.” She looks over my hands again. “Sorry for being so short with you. Headmistress’s pets. One of them bit one of my staff and it took a whole week to heal their arm.”
“Thanks, I’m sure you’re busy,” I flex my hands as she tidies up before opening the door for us to exit.
“It’s all the people! We never get a break, on or off Season. Events, parties—the overflow’s spilled into my own private quarters!” She closes and locks the door behind her. “And more are coming in today. I was hoping the wing was finally ready to be opened up for the influx. It’s been closed for months with an infestation of fleas, as if their biting wasn’t enough. Anyway, please find me again, if needed.”
“Thank you.” I curtsy and am about to head back toward the Instruction Wing when her words stop me dead in my tracks.
“Wait, you said the north wing has been closed?”
“Yes, for months.”
But Charlie…He said he stays in the north wing. He was sick in bed all day on the day my mother left a few weeks ago. “Isn’t Charlie’s room in here somewhere?”
“Charlie Huston? He rooms in the guesthouse. Have a good afternoon.” She hurries off.
I nod, unable to find words, and leave. I’m hurrying toward my room when I spot Della watching me. She scurries off before I can catch her. Charlie is staying in the guesthouse? He said he couldn’t tell my mother goodbye. But he was really in the same house with her the whole time? Charlie lied to me.
And I want to know why.
By afternoon, the bruises on my hands have faded and I’ve managed to flag a few pages in my Darkbearer books that describe magic I’d like to try. A sharp knock pulls me from my studying. I’m grabbing for the knob when I hear Charlie’s voice on the other side of the door.
I freeze.
“You said she was here,” he grumbles.
“She must still be out on the grounds,” Della says. “Sometimes she visits the gardens.”