Moon's Knight by Lilith Saintcrow

Author:Lilith Saintcrow [Saintcrow, Lilith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781950447145
Publisher: Lilith Saintcrow
Published: 2021-08-23T18:30:00+00:00

25

One-Eighty

It was definitely a bad idea to go wandering around a giant gothic fairytale castle at night, but if she was in a mystery it was the only way anything would get done. She’d gathered all the information she could; now it was time for investigation. It looked like she’d had the right instinct all along, and just should have listened to it instead of getting all weird with a panic attack.

This time, Gin was going to go prepared.

She’d kept her eyes peeled during the nightly undressing, so it was easy to filch a pair of those soft cream-colored slippers from the big antique wardrobe that smelled faintly of something close to cedar. There were dresses hanging there too, all in shades of pale skim bluish milk to tarnished ivory, but getting them off the hangers was just asking for trouble.

There was, however, the sleeveless robe of dark blue velvet hanging in its own little compartment, and that was a great idea. It brushed the floor at her heels, a tiny fabric kiss. Since the stone-screened window was full of soft silvery light and Gin was back to glowing too, she reasoned the moon was up—and not only was it risen but full again. Was it always a round coin sailing through the night sky? That made the Long Nights even weirder, and she didn’t have enough physics to figure out how those worked, either. This whole thing was the definition of lunacy.

It was a great pun, but nobody was around to share it with. Gin peered into the hall, hoping nobody was lingering out there to watch her, and the glowglobes didn’t brighten.

Almost as if they sensed she wanted a little darkness.

Whether she believed she was what these people thought or not—and she had to face it, the dreams and the glowing were a powerful damn argument she couldn’t find a way around—there was no reason to stay in bed. Campaigning for innocent until proven guilty was ethical, but doing a little detective work of her own, she decided, was downright prudent. So what if Ami always called her the practical one with that little smirk, when she wasn’t saying you like to daydream too much? Practical might not be cool, but it saved its pennies, looked both ways before crossing the street, and might not drown.

Of course, practical didn’t sign away its inheritance for a nonexistent stake in a failing coffee shop, or get sucked into an alternate dimension as a figurehead in a half-deserted castle surrounded by a desert wasteland turning into jungle.

But everyone had off days. Now that she had a clear-cut goal and some decent rest, she was ready to tango.

At least, if she could stop trembling. But even a coward could do a little sleuthing. Just look at Scooby and Shaggy.

She aimed for the darker junction of the two connecting hallways, ghosting along with the blue velvet robe pulled tight. She couldn’t do anything about the shift’s white sleeves, or her own glowing hands and face, but it was nice to have something a little heavier on.

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