The Violet Hour by Whitney A. Miller Page A

darted out from under my touch faster than a minnow, slipping into the pitch-dark hall. I tried to stop her, but she was vapor through my fingers. A far-off echo stirred in another part of the fathomless house. I leaped to my feet, sweating with panic and fear. I slipped back into the bedroom, frightened of what might happen next in the Wang Tea Shop of Terror. My pulse raced.
    She is coming. Bringing death.
    I leaned back against the door and exhaled, willing my body to slow down. Death. Just like the voice in my visions had promised.
    You see it. The virus.
    Madam Wang and Mei Mei knew about my visions. They were more than just freakozoidal followers of the Inner Eye. Sacristan Wang was a virologist, with the access and ability to create a bioweapon, but he wasn’t the voice in my head. Madam Wang was threatening, but she wasn’t the voice either. Was Isiris the key? Everything was getting worse.
    A terrible momentum was gathering.
    I snuck quietly back into the bedroom. My eyes roamed over the sleeping girls. Dora was still as a statue in her bed, completely undisturbed. But when I looked at Mercy, I could see her blue eyes shining, taking me in, evaluating. Making sure I saw her, but making no move to learn what was the matter. Just watching. Like a sentinel. Or a spy. The memory of her sneaking in just hours ago washed over me. All that time, she’d been somewhere in this house with Adam doing who knows what.
    I felt ill. I went into the bathroom, flipping on the light and shutting the door behind me. Dark rings around my eyes reflected my own exhaustion back at me in the mirror over the sink.
    You must fight or all will perish .
    I turned the faucet on and splashed water over my face. When I stood up, my reflection was already there, as if I had never bent down. While I stood there, frozen, it turned and walked out of the open door of the bathroom, reflected behind me. I spun around, frightened. The door was closed. When I looked back at the mirror, it was just me, the closed bathroom door beyond me.
    I hurried out of the bathroom and over to my bed, climbing under the covers in a panic. Mercy’s eyes tracked me all the way. She was probably gleeful, plotting the ways she could break the news of yet another weird incident involving Harlow the Freak to Adam. Little did she know how right she was.
    My hand reached for the Subdueral I’d slipped under my pillow when we first settled in the room, but I grasped at nothing. I patted around for a second. It was gone. I had a feeling the Wangs were behind it—not even Mercy was mean enough for that move.
    Dora coughed. I knew that cough. It was an I’m awake and I know you are too Dora special. I turned my head and opened my eyes. I couldn’t see hers through the reflection off her glasses, but I knew they were wide open. She slid her hand out from under her comforter and reached it out to mine. I took it, more grateful for the comfort than she could ever know.
    I wasn’t able to sleep—the crushing weight of impending doom would not fade to black. Holding Dora’s hand made the uncertainty bearable until the tentative light of morning peeked through the window shades. Whatever the next day would bring, I knew with dread certainty it would be something awful.

GREAT WALL
    Brother Howard burst in, sending all three of us flying from our beds. His hand was shielding his eyes so he wouldn’t see anything illegal.
    “Get up, girls! Today is a big day! It’s not every day you get to see the Great Wall of Chi-i-i-ina!” He sang the word “China” like he was Julie Andrews on a mountaintop.
    “It’s not day. Not even close,” Dora grumbled from her bed.
    Brother Howard was undeterred. “Lots of people never even get the chance to see the wall. It’s something you’ll remember for the rest of your lives,” he said reverently. “Not only that, but I have a very exciting project for you today. Something that will help awaken your inner eyes!”
    Mercy and Dora