Lair of Dreams (The Diviners 2)

“That’s a nice way of saying crazy.”

“As I was saying, the other day, she looked right at me as I was getting on the elevator and said, ‘Anthony Orange Cross. Beware, beware, Paradise Square.’”

Ling threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“It didn’t come up in conversation! Besides, I’m in the theater, darlin’. I meet an awful lot of strange people. It’s an occupational hazard.”

“How did she know that exact phrase?” Ling pressed. “Is she a dream walker, too?”

“Not that I know of. At least, I’ve never seen her wandering the dreamscape on her broomstick. She asked me if I could hear the crying.” He paused, his eyes on Ling. “You’re making that frowning face again. Not the usual Ling-Chan-contempt-for-most-of-humanity expression, but something more akin to dread.”

“I don’t like this, Henry,” Ling said. “Something isn’t right. Can you speak to the crazy lady and ask her what she knows?”

“Yes, for the sake of our mystery, I will endure an afternoon with the mad Proctor sisters,” Henry said.

A distant clock tolled five. Ling gasped.

“Now you’re really starting to scare me,” Henry said. “What’s the matter?”

Ling gathered her crutches. “I was supposed to be home a half hour ago.”

“Oh, is that all? I thought you’d seen the ghost of Anthony Orange Cross.”

Ling’s expression was grim. “I’m not afraid of ghosts. But I am afraid of my mother.”

The moment Henry and Ling entered the Tea House, Mrs. Chan marched toward them, drying her hands on a towel, her eyes flashing. “Ling Chan! Where have you been? I have been worried sick! Lee Fan and Gracie have been back since half past three. I nearly had half the neighborhood out looking for you!”

For the first time since Henry had known her, Ling appeared truly cowed.

“I-I… um…”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Henry jumped in, pouring on the southern charm. “I don’t know if you remember me—Henry DuBois the Fourth, from the science club? Gee, I feel awful. This is entirely my fault. You see, Ling was separated from her friends, and I just happened to come along. Naturally, I wanted to be certain she was safe. But then I was so utterly entranced by our discussion of Einstein’s relative theory…”

“Relativity,” Ling corrected quickly under her breath.

“… that I completely lost track of the time.”

“Funny,” Ling whispered.

“What?” Henry said.

“Lost track of…” Ling shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Please accept my humblest apology, Mrs. Chan. I can assure you that I have been looking after Ling as if she were my very own sister.” Henry kept such a straight face that he doubted Theta’s acting skills could match his.

Ling’s mother softened. “Well. ’Ta, then, for bringing Ling home safely, Henry. Could we fix you a plate before you’re set on leaving us?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I have to get to the Foll—to Mass,” Henry said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ling’s mouth hanging open.

But Ling’s mother was smiling. “I can’t thank you enough, Henry. You’re a good soul. Why, you must come along on our outing tomorrow to see Jake Marlowe break ground for his new fair.”

“How I wish I could, but I—”

“I won’t be taking no for an answer,” Ling’s mother said, hands at her waist. “You deserve a proper thank-you for your kindness today. We’ll see you here at noon.” And with that, she went back to work.

“So very early,” Henry whimpered quietly.

Ling showed Henry out. “Thank you,” she said.