Page 76 of Sweet Nightmare

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out,” I finally answer. Then I grab the tapestry and pull it straight off the wall.

“Hell, yeah!” Eva cheers. Then she stops and asks, “What exactly are we doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m taking it with us.”

Her brows shoot up. “Don’t you think that’ll piss off the Jean-Jerks?”

“Do I look like I give a shit about pissing off the Jean-Jerks?”

I lay the tapestry on the floor and start rolling it up. It’s heavier than it looks.

Luis stoops down and helps me roll.

Once the tapestry is rolled up, Eva steps closer to the wall it was hanging on and runs her hands over the rocks.

“I was kind of hoping it was hiding a secret passage,” she says after a few moments of searching. “But there’s nothing.”

“I know. It’s the strangest thing.”

She moves to the next wall and searches it as well. “And you’re sure they were in here?”

“I saw Jean-Luc come in with my own eyes. And there were wet footprints all over the floor that led absolutely nowhere that I could see.”

She shakes her head. “Weird.”

Thunder rumbles across the sky, and Luis sighs in disappointment. “We should probably head back if we don’t want to get caught in the next rainband. Especially with that tapestry.”

I nod in agreement, then bend down and prepare to heft the huge-ass tapestry into my arms. But the heavy weight of it is gone. Now it’s lighter than my backpack.

“Here, let me help,” Luis says, grabbing the end closest to him. His eyes widen as he registers the same thing I already have. “Umm, Clementine, are you way stronger than I think you are?”

I shake my head.

“Then what—” He looks as mystified as I feel.

“I’ve got no idea. Maybe whatever magic makes it change images has decided that it likes us.”

Eva looks skeptical. “Or it’s lulling us into a false sense of security so that it can kill us.”

“Trust a witch to blame black magic,” Luis teases as we carefully climb the steps out of the cellar.

“It’s not pessimism if it’s true,” she answers with a grin.

“Well, let’s hope it’s just pessimism this time,” I tell her. “For all our sakes.”

But we barely get the cellar door closed and locked behind us before a gust of wind slams into us and sends the tapestry flying out of my arms. It hits the ground, edge first, and the impact forces it to partially unroll.

“I’ll get it,” Luis tells me, bending over to roll it back up. “The mud—” He breaks off. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Eva asks, rushing over to him. “What’s wrong?”

I’m right behind her, terrified that we’ve somehow ruined the tapestry.

But what I see is even worse. “Finish unrolling it,” I tell Luis as I grab the other end to help.

“Out here?” Luis asks.

I know he’s right, know the rain stands the risk of damaging it, but right now I don’t care.

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