meantime.
But most importantly, she’d crafted a plan. Lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the hours tick away – Emmett tucked under her arm, just like when she was little – Morrigan plotted her next move as patiently as a chess grandmaster.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the softly padding footsteps of the evening nurse on her midnight rounds, and once they’d disappeared into the distance, she sat up in bed and whistled.
A short whistle, low and eerie.
There was a moment when she doubted it had worked. Then she heard it, cutting through the wheezing and snoring: a deep, reverberating growl.
It came from the shadows under her bed.
‘Come out,’ she whispered, trying to make it sound like a command rather than a plea, while a primal fear tiptoed delicately down her spine.
The shadows took the shape of a wolf, and the wolf slunk out from beneath the bed. It brought its enormous face close to hers – teeth bared, red eyes glowing. Morrigan squeezed Emmett tighter, summoned all of her courage and addressed the dark, monstrous thing in a voice that didn’t shake.
‘I want to speak with him.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Opening a Window
The wolf seemed to appraise her for a moment, then disappeared in a swirl of black smoke.
Was that it, Morrigan wondered. Surely it couldn’t be that easy. She’d thought she might have to do something to convince it to obey her, perhaps a demonstration of the Wundrous Arts. But sure enough, the wolf vanished in one instant and returned the next, bringing with it the rest of the wolf pack. And their master.
‘Don’t go getting ideas about summoning me,’ Squall said quietly. He stood at the end of her bed, cloaked in shadow. ‘This won’t work every time, you know.’
‘It worked this time.’
‘Because I was expecting it. Though you certainly took longer than anticipated.’
‘I’ve been asleep for two days.’
His eyes flicked briefly upwards. ‘Of course you have. Your stamina is abysmal.’
She ignored the insult. ‘You said you’d fix the Hollowpox.’
‘And so I did. Have you brought me here to say thank you?’
‘You didn’t,’ she insisted. ‘The Wunimals are still hollow. They’re still unnimals. You promised—’
‘I promised the destruction of the Hollowpox, and that is what I delivered.’
‘You promised a CURE!’ Morrigan raised her voice, then flinched as Mr Schultz in the far corner of the ward spluttered in his sleep before settling back to his steady wheezing. ‘You promised a cure,’ she repeated in a harsh whisper, leaning forward. The shadow wolves growled a low warning, but she didn’t stop. ‘On the rooftop, that day at Proudfoot House. Do you think I would make something I couldn’t unmake? That’s what you said.’
‘But curing something and destroying it are two entirely different matters.’ His face was inscrutable. ‘I told you I would provide a cure for the Hollowpox if you became my apprentice. I don’t recall offering to do it out of the goodness of my heart. What happened in Courage Square was a fair and mutually beneficial arrangement. I wanted to keep Wintersea out of Nevermoor, and you wanted to stop the spread of the Hollowpox. That’s our business concluded, as far as I’m concerned. If you want something more, you need to offer something in return.’
‘Fine.’ Straightening her spine, Morrigan pushed off the blankets and got out of bed. She slid her feet into a pair of warm slippers Jupiter had left for her, gathered up her coat from the back of the chair and buttoned it over her pyjamas. ‘Fine, I agree. I’ll be your apprentice. Now let’s go.’
There was a long, tense silence between them, broken only by the snoring from across the ward. She waited for Squall to react, but he was as still as stone, his black eyes glassy in the dim light.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said finally. ‘Why would you do this?’
Morrigan wanted to throw her hands in the air and shout at him, but that would have brought the overnight nurse running.
‘Why do you think I would do this?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper. ‘And more importantly, why do you care? You’re getting what you want!’
‘And what if I’ve changed my mind?’ he asked. ‘What if it’s not what I want any more? Perhaps I’ve decided you’re not a good enough Wundersmith, that you’ll never be—’
‘You haven’t,’ she snapped. ‘So don’t pretend. This is what you’ve wanted since the first day we met, Mr Jones. You’ve never given up. You keep coming back to Nevermoor, keep