Hollowpox The Hunt for Morrigan Crow - Jessica Townsend Page 0,114

Cheery called back from the driver’s seat.

‘Cheers, Miss.’

‘Cadence.’

When they arrived at Wunsoc, Miss Cheery walked them through the Whinging Woods and all the way up to Proudfoot House. There were people at the main gates again, and she seemed to be trying to shield Morrigan from view.

‘They must be here for the fireblossom tours,’ said Morrigan.

She couldn’t help feeling proud, despite the trouble those trees had brought her. The view from the top of the drive had completely changed. Gone were the spidery, bare black branches, like witches’ hands reaching up to the sky. In their place, a fiery overstorey in what must have been a thousand different greens, glowing warmly on this cool morning, with patches turning to orange, bronze and gold here and there. Morrigan thought they made Wunsoc more beautiful than ever.

‘They’ve had to cancel the fireblossom tours,’ said Miss Cheery. ‘Journalists kept signing up for them and trying to sneak into Proudfoot House, or to ask nosy questions about—’ Miss Cheery cut herself off, with a glance at Morrigan.

Morrigan peered down at the gates again and saw what she hadn’t before: a sea of cameras and microphones. ‘About me.’

‘Ignore, ignore, ignore,’ Miss Cheery told her. ‘Do not go anywhere near those gates, Morrigan. This will all blow over in a day or two. Don’t you worry.’

Cadence didn’t get a chance to mesmerise Baz and make him confess, because their usual Monday morning Containment and Distraction meeting was cancelled.

‘Any idea why it was called off?’ she asked Morrigan as the pair made their way to a lecture theatre on Sub-Three for their mid-morning lesson. A famous Wundrous Society philosopher was visiting to give a talk called Why Are We Here? Questions of Existence, Mortality and Morality (which they both agreed was a bit much for a Monday).

‘No,’ Morrigan said glumly. ‘Probably another attack.’

They heard a sniffle and stopped in the middle of the corridor. A round little figure in a medical uniform was huddled, shoulders shaking, behind a statue of the late Elder Atherton Lusk, founder of the teaching hospital.

‘Anah?’

Anah jumped as if someone had shouted and peeked out from behind the stone Elder. Her face was blotchy and red, her nose running. ‘Oh – it’s you two. I was just …’

‘Anah, what’s wrong?’ asked Morrigan, as she and Cadence hurried over. ‘Has something happened?’

Anah looked surprised – not just to see them, but specifically at Morrigan’s question.

She sniffled. ‘I … Nothing, never mind. Shouldn’t you be down on Sub-Nine with your Wundersmith friends?’

Morrigan flinched at the slight coolness in her voice. ‘Sub-Nine can wait. Why are you crying?’

Anah’s face crumpled. She shook her head, her eyes filling up with more tears. ‘I’m not supposed to tell anybody,’ she whispered.

‘You can tell us,’ Morrigan said gently.

Cadence nodded. ‘Course you can. We’re your sisters. Loyal for life, remember?’

That only seemed to make things worse. Anah looked up at Cadence with a mixture of shock and gratitude, her tears now flowing freely, and choked out a sob. ‘That’s … th-that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

Cadence folded her arms. ‘Yeah. I’m nice. Shut up.’

‘Breathe, Anah, and tell us what’s wrong,’ said Morrigan.

Anah took a deep, shuddering breath, and whispered, ‘They’re waking up.’

‘Who’s waking – wait, the Wunimals?’

‘Shhh!’ said Anah, glancing up and down the hall. ‘Most of the Majors. None of the Minors. Yet.’

‘But that’s brilliant news! Isn’t it?’ Morrigan finished uncertainly, while Anah squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

‘They’re not … Wunimals any more.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Cadence.

‘They’re just …’ She took a jagged breath. ‘Unnimals. They’ve turned into unnimals.’

Morrigan stared at her. ‘But that’s not possible.’

‘It started with the leopardwun … the leopard, now, I suppose. She woke up on Saturday and at first everyone was really happy, but … she had no idea who she was, or where or what she was. She couldn’t speak. She wouldn’t eat anything but raw meat. Didn’t understand a word we said, she was just angry and scared. Pacing and growling like a caged unnimal. And now …’ Anah bit back a sob. ‘Now that’s exactly what she is. They gave her a needle and sent her to sleep and when she woke up … they’d locked her in a cage.’

So Juvela De Flimsé was awake. Since Saturday.

Morrigan thought of Dame Chanda and her deep blue melancholy. This would break her heart. What would she do, if she knew?

‘They’ve put them all in c-cages,’ Anah hiccupped. ‘All the most dangerous ones – the leopard and