Fallen 2. Torment(24)

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