The image of those burning cities flashed into her mind. Luce wondered whether
she could stand to see this message on her own. If she could even figure out how to
unlock its secrets. How did these things work? All Francesca and Steven had done was
pull.
Holding her breath, Luce worked her fingers along the shadow's feathery edges,
gripped it, and gave it a gentle tug. To her surprise, the Announcer was pliant, almost like
putty, and took whatever shape her hands suggested. Grimacing, she tried to manipulate it
into a square. Into something like the screen she'd seen her teachers form.
At first it was easy, but the shadow seemed to grow stiffer the more she tried to
stretch it out. And every time she repositioned her hands to pull on another part, the rest
would recoil into a cold, lumpy black mass. Soon she was out of breath and using her arm
to wipe the sweat off her brow. She did not want to give up. But when the shadow started
to vibrate, Luce screamed and dropped it to the ground.
Instantly, it darted off into the trees. Only after it was gone did Luce realize: It
hadn't been the shadow that was vibrating. It was the cell phone in her backpack.
She'd gotten used to not having one. Until that moment, she'd even forgotten that
Mr. Cole had given her his old phone before he put her on the plane to California. It was
almost completely useless, solely so that he would have a way to reach her, to keep her
up to date on what stories he was feeding to her parents, who still believed she was at
Sword & Cross. So that when Luce talked to them, she could lie consistently.
No one besides Mr. Cole even had her number. And for really annoying safety
reasons, Daniel hadn't given her a way to reach him. And now the phone had cost Luce
her first real progress with a shadow.
She pulled it out and opened the text Mr. Cole had just sent:
Call your parents. They think you got an A-on a history test I just gave. And that
you're trying out for the swim team next week. Don't forget to act like everything's okay.
44
And a second one, a minute later:
Is everything okay?
Grouchily, Luce stuffed the phone in her backpack and started tramping through
the thick mulch of redwood needles toward the edge of the forest, toward her dorm. The
text made her wonder about the rest of the kids at Sword & Cross. Was Arriane still
there, and if so, who was she sailing paper airplanes to during class? Had Molly found
someone else to make her enemy now that Luce was gone? Or had both of them moved
on since Luce and Daniel had left? Did Randy buy the story that Luce's parents had made
her transfer? Luce sighed. She hated not telling her parents the truth, hated not being able
to tell them how far away she felt, and how alone.
But a phone call? Every false word she said--A-on a made-up history test, tryouts
for some bogus swim team--would only make her feel that much more homesick.
Mr. Cole must be out of his mind, telling her to call them and lie. But if she told
her parents the truth--the real truth--they would think she was out of her mind. And if she
didn't get in touch with them, they would know something was up. They'd drive out to
Sword & Cross, find her missing, and then what?
She could email them. Lying wouldn't be so hard by email. It would buy her a few
days before she had to call. She would email them tonight.
She stepped out of the forest, onto the path, and gasped. It was night. She looked
back at the lush, shaded woods. How long had she been in there with the shadow? She
glanced at her watch. It was half past eight. She'd missed lunch. And her afternoon
classes. And dinner. It had been so dark in the woods, she hadn't noticed time passing at
all, but now it all slammed into her. She was tired, cold, and hungry.
After three wrong turns in the mazelike dorm, Luce finally found her door.
Silently hoping that Shelby would be wherever it was she disappeared to at night, Luce
slipped her huge, old-fashioned key into the lock and turned the knob.
The lights were off, but a fire was burning in the hearth. Shelby was seated crosslegged on the floor, eyes closed, meditating. When Luce came in, one eye popped open,
looking highly annoyed at the sight before it.
"Sorry," Luce whispered, sinking into the desk chair closest to the door. "Don't
mind me. Pretend I'm not here."
For a little while, Shelby did just that. She closed her evil eye and went back to
meditating, and the room was tranquil. Luce turned on the computer that came with her
desk and stared at the screen, trying to compose in her head the most innocuous message
possible to her parents--and, while she was at it, one to Callie, who'd been sending a
steady stream of unread emails to Luce's in-box this past week.
Typing as slowly as she possibly could so her keyboard taps wouldn't give Shelby