rth of May.’ It was a birthday. Wilhelmina tried to show me the headstone. Eugenia Spence was born May sixth. That’s tomorrow.”
Damion looks out the carriage window toward the rising dawn. “That’s today.”
* * *
.. SIXTY-THREE
* * *
IT IS DAY BY THE TIME SPENCE COMES INTO VIEW, RISING from the deep green land like a mirage. A storm is moving in from the east. The wind’s a demon, whipping leaves off trees. Far in the distance, a dark shadow sits upon the sky like a cat on its haunches ready to pounce. The first splats of rain have begun to fall. They leave ugly wet marks on my dress.
I do not stop even to remove my gloves. I tear through the school, searching for Fetry and Kin. I tell them everything and ask them to wait for me. Then I go in search of Mrs. Nightwing. I find her in the
