Page 7 of The Luminaries
He sighs, and his face scrunches with a grimace that can only be described aslong-suffering.“I certainly have a theory, but I suspect you have a different one. One that’s highly improbable.”
That’s rich coming from Mario, who is somewhat infamous for his own off-the-wall ideas. “A werewolf did it,” Winnie declares.
Mario blows another bubble.Pop!
“I’m serious.” Winnie thrusts the feet at him. The plastic rustles. “What else can leave the boundary unnoticed, Mario? It’s either a changeling or a werewolf, and changelings don’t mutilate bodies.”
“They’re also extremely rare. We haven’t had one in seventeen years. And it was…” He shakes his head. “It was bad, remember?”
Winnie doesn’t remember, since she hadn’t been born yet. But she certainly knows the stories about how a non-turned-werewolf killed six people in as many days, and the entirety of Hemlock Falls was on lockdown until the Tuesdays finally shot him. Ever since then, that siren downtown that had been built to warn of Diana attacks has also been used for any daywalkers on the loose.
Winnie chews her lip. She doesn’t want to make light of what happened seventeen years ago… but she also thinks she’s on to something. “Just imagine it, Mario. This werewolf is in the middle of eating when the night ends. He still has the feet in his mouth as his body begins to change back into human form—”
“Now the werewolf is a he?”
“—and he just…” She mimics walking with her fingers. “Marches right out of the forest. Then he drops the feet and enters our world.”
Mario does not look moved by this theory. If anything, he looks mildly agitated. Like he has somewhere to be and Winnie’s tall tales are keeping him from it. He does, at least, accept the bag from her grasp. “Interesting story, as per usual, Winnie. But imagine this instead: It was the same vampira horde the hunters have been tracking for the past three nights. The hunters finally killed the horde—presumably mid-meal—and the feet got flung over the boundary.” He shuffles toward a rolling table nearby. The stainless steel gleams in the rising sun.
“That was my first thought too.” Winnie follows him, and when he grabs the table, she grabs the other end. They roll it to the four-wheeler. “But the marks on these feet aren’t consistent with vampira. Just open the bag and you’ll see!”
Mario doesn’t answer, but Winnie can see he’s mulling her words. He always chews louder and blows more bubbles when his scientist mind is whirring.Pop-pop-pop!
Winnie helps him load the first non body onto the table’s lowest shelf. It’s an older woman, her eyes turned to stone in what was clearly an unfortunate basilisk encounter. Then they load the manticores onto the middle shelf. Next, the sylphid (which Mario excitedly “oohs” over), and lastly, the halfer onto the top shelf.
“Definitely vampira,” Mario says after a cursory examination. “But I do like your theory, Winnie. It’s very…” He pauses as he does every week when Winnie offers her latest out-there idea.
“Inspired,” she finishes for him. She can’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. She really thought she’d gotten it right this time. A werewolf would have explained Jay’s weird assessment of the clearing, and she had even heard all that howling at dawn.
Mario gives her an apologetic grin. “We make quite the pair, don’t we? But Idolike how your mind works.”
Winnie shoves at her glasses. Her thumb smushes a fingerprint onto the left lens. “Did Aunt Rachel tell you they took down a vampira horde?”
“No,” he admits. “The Wednesdays haven’t turned in their kill coordinates yet, but I will bet you a week’s supply of coffee that itwasn’ta werewolf.”
This is also what Mario does every week: he bets a week’s worth of coffee that her hypothesis is wrong. And of course, whenever he’s the one with the kooky theories, Winnie wagers the same.
Winnie studies the halfer again. Sunlight glares on the plastic. The grocery bag with the feet now rests below the shredded ankles. Yes, it does look like a vampira horde did this… but then why were they eating the feet? According to the Compendium, the vampira don’t eat feet. They just remove them.
Winnie sets her jaw. There’s more to this than what she’s seeing. Even Jay noticed that.
“Okay.” She shoots her gaze to Mario. He’s writing on a clipboard that swings from the table’s edge. “A week’s supply of coffee.”
He pauses his scribbling. “Huh?”
“A week’s supply,” she repeats, and she thrusts out a hand. Then she remembers she hasn’t washed it yet and hastily withdraws. “I accept your wager. Shall we say coffee from Joe Squared?”
“You’re that confident?” Mario squints at the bag of feet.Pop-pop-pop!Neither of them has ever actually gone through with a wager before. “You’re even willing to pay for the expensive stuff? All right.” He shrugs. “It’s your funeral. If that turns out to be a werewolf kill, I’ll buy you a week’s supply of coffee from Joe Squared—or if you prefer, I’ll make it a meal for you and a friend at the Revenant’s Daughter.”
You and a friend.As if Winnie has any of those. “I’ll take the coffee,” she replies.
He doffs an invisible hat. “And I’ll email you when I hear from the Wednesdays.”
“Excellent.” She doffs a hat right back, then hops once more onto the four-wheeler. Spring wind bites against her. The smudge on her glasses distorts the day. Downtown, the bells in the Council building toll eight o’clock, meaning she has an hour until school begins.
School always starts late in Hemlock Falls, to accommodate corpse duty or last night’s hunters.
“Get ready to lose, Mario!” Winnie hollers as she drives away. Mario’s popping bubbles chase after her.
