Torment - Lauren Kate [26]
Except for Luce. She wasn’t tired, not at all. Instead, she felt strangely energized. She wished, again, that Daniel were there. She badly wanted to talk to him about Francesca and Steven’s demonstration—and to know why he hadn’t told her sooner that there was more to the shadows than she could see.
In front of Luce were the stairs leading up to her dorm room. Behind her, the redwood forest. She paced outside the entrance to the dorm, unwilling to go inside, unwilling to sleep this off and pretend she hadn’t seen it. Francesca and Steven wouldn’t have been trying to scare the class; they must have intended to teach them something. Something they couldn’t come right out and say. But if the Announcers carried messages and echoes of the past, then what was the point of the one they’d just been shown?
She went into the woods.
Her watch said 11 a.m., but it could have been midnight under the dark canopy of trees. Goose bumps rose on her bare legs as she pressed deeper into the shady forest. She didn’t want to think about it too hard; thinking would only increase the odds of her chickening out. She was about to enter uncharted territory. Forbidden territory.
She was going to summon an Announcer.
She’d done things to them before. The very first time was when she pinched one during class to keep it from sneaking into her pocket. There was the time in the library when she’d swatted one away from Penn. Poor Penn. Luce couldn’t help wondering what message that Announcer had been carrying. If she had known how to manipulate it then, the way Francesca and Steven had manipulated the one today—could she have stopped what happened?
She closed her eyes. Saw Penn, slumped against the wall, her chest aproned with blood. Her fallen friend. No. Looking back on that night was too painful, and it never got Luce anywhere. All she could do now was look ahead.
She had to fight the cold fear clawing at her insides. A slinking, black, familiar shape lurking alongside the true shadow of a low redwood branch a mere ten yards in front of her.
She took a step toward it, and the Announcer shrank back. Trying not to make any sudden moves, Luce pressed on, closer, closer, willing the shadow not to slip away.
There.
The shadow twitched under its tree branch but stayed put.
Heart racing, Luce tried to calm herself down. Yes, it was dark in this forest; and yes, not a soul knew where she was; and okay, sure, there was a chance no one would miss her for a good while if anything happened—but there was no reason to panic. Right? So why did she feel gripped by a gnawing fear? Why was she getting the same tremor in her hands she used to get when she saw the shadows as a girl, back before she’d learned they were basically harmless?
It was time to make a move. She could either stand here frozen forever, or she could chicken out and go sulking back to the dorm, or—
Her arm shot out, no longer shaking, and took hold of the thing. She dragged it up and clutched it tightly to her chest, surprised by its heft, by how cold and damp it was. Like a wet towel. Her arms were shaking. What did she do with it now?
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