Page 103 of Misfit Monsters
But I’m the only one who knows this sorcerer and how he works. They might need me.
I’m the only one in danger of getting banished if we sit around waiting for Rollick to handle the problem for us.
I take a deep breath. My emotions are roiling around, but I don’t feel out of control.
I know who we’re going up against. I know I didn’t deserve what he did to me.
He won’t ruin any more of my life.
“No,” I say. “I’m coming. Let’s find out all the vile secrets he’s been hiding.”
38
Periwinkle
We slip into the shadows before we enter the clearing. A tang of anxiety follows me from where we’ve left Jonah braced in the van.
Raze, Mirage, Hail, and I slink through the patches of darkness amid the grass and weeds. The trap door may be shut, but that doesn’t pose any problem to us. A thin shadow seeps between the door’s edge and the frame that holds it.
Raze’s voice sounds slightly muffled in our current state, but I can still make out a hint of a growl. “I’m going in first. If we need to take him down, I should be ready.”
A quiver of fear passes through me, but I don’t argue. It’s not as if I’d be much help if it comes to a fight.
Mirage’s buoyant presence sidles closer to me. “Are you all right, Rainbow? Not too many blasty feelings welling up?”
Despite the fact that I’m about to come as close to my former captor as I have since I fled his basement, I feel strangely calm. Maybe because this time I’m prepared. I’m making the choice to approach him rather than being taken by surprise.
The new Periwinkle, girlboss version.
“I think I’ll be okay,” I say. “But if I start feeling overwhelmed, I’ll get away from all of you before I have an outburst.”
Hail lets out a cool chuckle. “Or you could point it all at the asshole. He’d deserve it.”
I guess he would. Still, the thought of purposefully battering my old captor with the full force of my powers when he’s technically minding his own business makes me queasy.
Before, I did it because I had to aim all that energy somewhere. I had to protect my friends. But I’ve hurt so many people in the past because of this man.
I want to be something different than the weapon he turned me into.
I helped get us to his secret lair. That means I contributed to the mission without needing to cause anyone pain, doesn’t it?
Raze darts into the tiny gap. The rest of us follow side by side.
We emerge into a garishly lit room that has me cringing in the sliver of darkness along the trap door. The artificial illumination blazes from the walls on one side of the space, where searing lamps are pointed at dozens of barred cages. The metal structures emit even more light from their floors and ceilings.
Within all that glare, knots of filmy darkness wriggle: shadowkind who’ve been captured and restrained, kept farfrom any shadows they might leap into if the sorcerer’s control fades.
My entire being winces. I jerk my attention away from that area to take in the rest of the room.
The other end appears to be David Blaver’s main workspace. Three corkboards hang on the walls, one pinned with photographs and newspaper clippings, another with sketches and handwritten notes, and the third with a large map. On the floor between them stands a desk. A storage cabinet and a table holding a camp stove are set up in the middle, a folding cot propped nearby.
The sorcerer himself is nowhere to be seen.
In the corner of the room near the desk, there’s another trap door, larger than the one we came through. It’s open, showing mostly darkness below.
“The basement has a basement,” Mirage says in a singsong tone.
A rustling sound emerges from it, suggesting the sorcerer went down there. The only human-like thing in view is a headless, armless sewing dummy poised next to one of the corkboards for some purpose I can’t guess.
