(9) Lights Will Rise

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"Where's Titus?" said Bella, her voice shaking without her consent.

"Your friend?" asked Charles.

"Yes, my black-cat friend."

"Oh. He went to tell Daphne how pretty this is."

Titus must have reacted lightning-fast to Charles' first proclamation about the Wights. Even now, footsteps sounded from deeper in the house. Daphne's voice asked something of her grandparents. Bella could make out neither the question nor its answer, but Daphne's thanks was a forced kind of cheerful. She appeared briefly to snatch a bag from the entryway before vanishing into the kitchen. Titus detached from the shadows and joined Bella on the table.

"Are they still approaching?" he asked, out of breath. Not waiting for Bella's reply, he leaned around Charles to see out the window, cursed, and vanished off the table again. Bella dove after him.

"Titus!" she hissed, and managed to stall him midway to the shoe-mat again.

He rejoined her beneath the table. "What?"

"What's the new plan? You need to tell me these things."

"The new plan is we get out of this town as quickly as we can, in the event that those Wights are following us. Daphne is making an excuse for us. She has friends in Solanum."

The same direction as the bog. A teenager traveling alone so close to Wightnight would generally be frowned upon, but Daphne must have a lot of trust from her grandparents, or a few tricks up her sleeve. Not that Solanum was very far. Daphne reemerged from the kitchen, dumped a very full bag in the entryway, and headed for her bedroom next. When she reappeared, she had her loaded potion-bag slung over her shoulder.

"Clothes?" said Titus.

Daphne's face flushed. "Right."

She grabbed the food-pack and a much larger backpack from the entryway, and retreated to her room again. When she emerged this time, she looked much better prepared for a multi-day journey.

"Make sure to bring your winter boots," said Titus, coaching her through a few more preparations he seemed awfully familiar with for a cat so attached to staying indoors. "Is your coat rainproof?"

"Yep," said Daphne. "I waterproofed it myself."

She straightened her shoulders in evident pride, ran into another ceiling herb bundle, and slouched with a wince. It seemed to be her default stance—whether in discomfort at her height or avoidance of resultant obstacles, Bella couldn't tell. As for the waterproofing, that was just as well. In just the day and a half since Bella had caught the young Witch snooping around back of Bryony's house, Daphne had spilled at least two potions over herself, and that was just in Bella's presence. Her coat might have been a single color once, but it bore so many stains now, it might as well have been patterned from the start.

Bella wrenched back into the shadows as Daphne's grandfather poked his head from the kitchen. "You'll be home in time for Wightnight, won't you?" he said.

"Unless Lark throws a better party than you do," said Daphne with a rare grin. She laughed as her grandfather scoffed in mock offense. He emerged from the kitchen to convene with his wife in the entryway for goodbye hugs.

"Well, give young Larkspur our greetings," said Daphne's grandmother. "And send a letter if you do intend to stay for Wightnight."

"I'll plan to be home. But I'll let you know if that changes."

"That's my girl. Do have fun."

"And don't catch a cold if the rain catches up to you!" added Daphne's grandfather.

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