Page 67 of Boy of Chaotic Making

Hulda stood, back erect, and focused on squirming one toe at a time, anything to put her mind elsewhere. She also started reading the headlines of the nearest errant newspaper. Much to her relief, she felt only warm by the time Professor Griffiths returned with a cup of tepid water. She accepted it gratefully and drank slowly.

“Whatever happened? Something I said?” he inquired, standing perhaps a little too close ...Don’t think about that, or you’ll redden up again.

Lowering the cup, Hulda cleared her throat. “My apologies—”

“No need to apologize—”

“I merely saw a pattern in the cards. I’d been thinking of my sister and witnessed an event that she wouldn’t care for me to have seen. Family drama.” She purposefully rolled her eyes, hoping that would lend to the lie.

Thankfully, Professor Griffiths, being the gentleman he was, didn’t pry. “Yes, of course. Would you like to end for today?”

Hulda checked the nearest clock. “Perhaps show me what you’d intended with these cards, and then I shall adjourn until tomorrow.”

He nodded, a smile tempting his mouth, and sat down. “Now, the idea is randomization ...”

And it was okay,Owein was saying as the sun began to sink in the English sky, disappearing beyond distant trees and the peak of a cathedral.We went all the way to the back of the cave. I touched the stone with my nose.

How fortunate there were no bears.Merritt chuckled. They approached Cyprus Hall and had been communing long enough that he had no voice left to him, and in his ears sounded a faint, constant ring. In truth, he’d used more communion today than any other day in his life. Mayhap he would never speak again.

It’s just a color,Owein went on as Merritt entered a side door of the building. A bustling kitchen hand nodded to him before hurrying down the connecting corridor.Darkness, I mean. It’s just a part of the world. Part of life. It makes sense to me now. And my darkness ... that’s a piece of my story, like a chapter in one of your books. I’m not supposed to tear it out. It makes me stronger. It adds to what I’m facing now, and what I’ll face in the future. It’s part of me, just like my legs or my magic or my mind.

Merritt paused as they came upon the gallery. One of the guards glanced at them and passed by.That is very astute. I dare say a very mature philosophy. One that I should remember.

Owein seemed to smile.It’s about time I grew up, I think.

Merritt smiled.Not too quickly, now.

They walked a little farther, coming up on the blue drawing room. Owein said,Hulda’s here.

Merritt listened past the steady ringing.How can you tell?

She has the clackiest shoes,he answered, and Merritt emitted a voiceless laugh.Her strides always sound the same. She doesn’t walk slowly to anything.

Agreed.

They entered the grand hall. Sure enough, Hulda was there, crossing from the vestibule. She spied them immediately and clacked her way over. “Merritt, I would really like to speak with you. Privately, if it isn’t too much of a bother, Owein.”

Owein barked his compliance and headed to the blue drawing room.

Merritt held up a hand in an attempt to ask what was wrong.

“Perhaps we should ...” Hulda turned about, looking for an appropriate place to converse. There were some chairs set out in the hall, near a pillar, and she gestured to them. “I suppose no one is really about on a Sunday.” As though to test the claim, another guard passed in an adjoining hall. Still, she crossed toward the seating arrangement, and Merritt followed. It wasn’t until they’d sat that she asked, “You’re mute, aren’t you?”

He shrugged his apology. With Owein gone, his larynx would begin readjusting.

She sighed. Glanced around once again—there was little Hulda disliked more than the risk of another eavesdropping on a private conversation. “I, well ...” She flushed. “I have something I want to say, andI find it highly incredulous, but I thought I should tell you regardless, especially before my next lesson tomorrow.”

He cocked an eyebrow. This wasn’t work related. Hulda never got flustered about that.

“I feel that ... Ithinkthat ...” She worried her hands. “Well, it’s come to my attention ... that is, thepossibility, and it’s only just that. An assumption—”

Merritt put his hands on both of hers, stilling them.

She drew in a deep breath. “I have an odd feeling that Professor Griffithsmightbe ... perhaps ... interested in me.”

Merritt laughed.

She ripped her hands away. “I know it’s preposterous, but hear me out—”

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