A Map of Days (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children #4) - Ransom Riggs Page 0,114

rooms’ doorways. It felt a bit like we were underwater, or in outer space. We made a few turns, and though I tried to make a mental map of our progress, I was soon confused, unsure I’d be able to get out again without Lilly’s help.

The sound of our footsteps changed. The hallway had ended at a large room.

“We’re here!” Lilly called out.

A searing beam of light shone down from above. We shielded our eyes, blinded now by light rather than dark.

“Let me see your faces!” a girl’s voice called down. “And tell me your names!”

I moved my hand away and blinked up into the light, then shouted my name. The others did the same.

“Who are you?” the girl called. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk face-to-face?” I said.

“Not yet,” came the echoing reply.

I wondered how often my grandfather had been in situations like this, and I wished I’d had a little of his vast experience to lean on. All that we’d been through came down to this. If this girl didn’t like what I said next, or if she didn’t believe me, all our efforts would have been for nothing.

“We traveled a long way to find you,” I said. “We came to tell you you’re not alone, that there are others like you. We’re like you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” the girl called back.

“We know you’re not like most people,” Emma said.

“And there are people who are after you,” I said.

“And you’re scared,” said Bronwyn. “I was scared, too, when I first realized how different I was from most people.”

“Yeah?” said the girl. “Different how?”

We decided the best thing would be to show her. Since there wasn’t much I could do that was visibly peculiar, Emma lit a flame in her hands, Bronwyn lifted a heavy block of concrete above her head, and Millard picked up some random objects to demonstrate that he was there, but invisible.

“He’s the one I was telling you about,” Lilly said, and I could practically hear Millard beaming.

“So, can we talk?” I said.

“Wait there,” the girl said, and then the light she had made winked out.

* * *

• • •

We waited in the dark while the sound of her footsteps approached. I heard them above us, then coming down stairs, and then I saw her. I drew a sharp, involuntary breath. She was, quite literally, glowing. At first, she looked like a moving ball of light, but as she got closer, and my eyes adjusted, I could see she was a teenager—a tall Indian girl with sharp features, jet-black hair that framed her face, and wide-set eyes flashing with intensity. Every pore of her brown skin was emanating light. Even the hooded windbreaker and jeans she wore glowed slightly from the light that shone beneath.

She went to Lilly and hugged her, hard. The top of Lilly’s head only reached Noor’s cheek, and with Noor’s arms encircling her, it looked for a moment like Lilly was wrapped in light.

“Are you okay?” Lilly asked.

“Bored, mostly,” Noor said, and Lilly laughed a little and turned to introduce her friend.

“This is Noor.”

“Hi,” Noor said evenly, still assessing us.

“Noor, this is . . . uh, what do you call yourselves?”

Lilly happened to be looking at Emma.

“I’m Emma,” she said.

“I mean, what are you, again?” said Lilly.

Emma frowned. “Emma’s good enough for now, I think.”

“I’m Jacob,” I said. I stepped toward Noor and offered my hand, but she just looked at it. I lowered it, feeling awkward. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Sure,” said Noor. “Let me show you to the grand salon.”

Taking Lilly’s arm, she turned and began to walk down a hall. She didn’t seem to mind having her back to us, so it seemed she’d decided we weren’t a threat. I noticed that the light emanating from her had gradually begun to dim, shrinking down into her core so that soon only her torso was glowing, and I caught glimpses of her shine only through her unzipped windbreaker and a rip in her jeans. She had been on guard when we first met but was starting to relax, and the light inside her corresponded somehow to her emotions.

We followed her from a large room with bare concrete walls into a smaller, windowless room with bare concrete walls. A couple of chairs and an old couch had been dragged in and draped with blankets, and there were some paperback books and comics and empty pizza boxes scattered around, evidence of long days and nights spent