The Flame in the Mist by Kit Grindstaff Read Free Book Online Page B

energized her, and her mind was crystal clear. Secrets and lies? Two could play at that.
    “The thunder woke me,” she said. “I felt so weary, Mama, but the storm made me feel strong again. I don’t know why. As if … as if something’s happened to me. I can’t explain it, but I’m … I’m
different
, somehow.”
    Nox inhaled sharply. Nocturna peered at Jemma, her eyes reflecting the tree still blazing outside. Jemma held her gaze. And held it. Finally, Nocturna’s face relaxed. “Well, then,” she said, “put on some dry clothes and into bed with you. But—what in Mord’s name? Why are your bedclothes piled up like that?”
    Oh, no!
Jemma thought.
They’re all torn, and sopping wet! They’ll find the food, the book.…
She glanced at her Stone to give herself courage. “I had a bad dream,” she said, her thoughts coming as swift as bats’ flight. “I woke feeling furious, and took it out on my blankets. But the storm comforted me. May I watch a little longer? I do love it. Just as you do.”
    “No harm in that, I suppose,” Nocturna said. She looked slightly confused, and scratched absently at the skin beneath Jemma’s Stone, where a faint rash was spreading. “But keep warm. We don’t want you catching a chill.”
    Of course you don’t
, Jemma thought,
so I’ll be strong for whatever you have planned for me tomorrow.…
“Thank you, Mama,” she said.
    “You see, Nocturna!” Nox whispered, a smile spreading across his face. “The storm. Jemma feeling changed. I was not wrong to hope!”
    “Perhaps.…” Nocturna tilted her head to one side and searched Jemma’s eyes for a moment, then planted a kiss on her cheek. “Good night, Jemma dear,” she said. “I shall see you tomorrow. Nox, go and put an end to that tiresome noise; I forget the spell. Come, you two.”
    She swept the twins out of the room.
    Nox beamed. “So like your mama, loving the storm!” he said. “I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Don’t stay up too late now, Flamehead. And don’t forget dry clothes, hmm?”
    “Of course not, Papa. Good night.”
    “Sweet dreams, my child.” Nox closed the door behind him.
    Jemma sat on the sill, trembling. The storm raged; the alarm wailed.
To keep intruders out
, Nox had said. But it was all too obvious: like the locks, chains, and bolts, the alarm was not intended to keep others out, but to keep her in. Slowly, her trembling subsided, the thunder became more distant, and at last, the wailing stopped. Jemma slid off the window-sill, put on dry clothes, and sat on the bed. Noodle and Pie crawled out from under the chest, then snuggled into her lap.
    “I don’t know what to do, Rattusses,” she sighed. “Even if we steal the keys from Drudge, the alarm is bound to go off, no matter which door we try.”
    Eleven-thirty struck. Despair edged into her bones. The swift clarity she’d felt seemed to have been washed away by the relentless storm outside. But it had been real—and it was her Stone that had given it to her. That flash of aqua blue …
    “Pull yourself together, Jemma,” she whispered, imagining what Marsh might say. “First things first. Wait till midnight to make sure they’re all asleep. Then get the Stone. Maybe I’ll be able to think more clearly again once I have it.” But for now, her mind felt as blank as a dead sheep’s face.
    Pie nudged Jemma’s hand with her snout, then hopped off her lap and nosed under the wet bedclothes. A corner of the lilac fabric was peeking out from underneath the mattress: her makeshift pouch, with the book inside it. It was probably ruined, soaked by the rain. But Marsh had said it could help.…
    Jemma’s throat tightened. How was Marsh faring, out in the wild night?
Please, please, let her be all right.…
She gulped back tears and picked up the bundle.
    It was bone-dry.
    “Strange,” she whispered. She fingered the fabric, noticing for the first time how soft it was—softer, even, than Pie’s belly