Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Where the hell…” Her expression is one of perfect surprise. She is too shocked, and more likely, too sad to run.
“Come with me,” Jane says, taking her by the hand. She leads Storm away from the house, but not toward the tram station. Instead she takes her out toward the forests behind the house, a quiet place where they will be able to walk and talk.
“How did you know where to find me?” Storm eventually asks the question in a small voice.
“I knew if you were actually running away, you’d return the dog. You care about him. You care about him significantly more than you care about yourself, which is a problem.”
Storm is still wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve, trying not to cry, trying to adjust back to her usual rebellious state and failing.
“You must be so mad at me,” she sniffs.
“I’m not pleased,” Jane agrees. “You have half the country looking for you.”
“God. Why?” Storm looks shocked. “Who cares?”
“I care. And the headmistress cares.”
“Sure, she does. She cares about the reputation of her school for the mindless,” Storm scowls. “I don’t belong at that place, Jane. That’s your kind of place. And I didn’t like the hairbrush, and I didn’t like that woman seeing, and I don’t like the uniform, and…”
Jane lets Storm vent patiently, letting go of her hand to let her pace about and discharge some of the nervous energy she has pent up. It has not been a good day at school, but Jane has found her charge and everybody is safe, and that is all that matters for the moment.
“Do you want to know why you can’t run away?” Jane eventually interjects.
“Because you materialize?”
“No,” Jane smiles. “Because you’ll still be there. Wherever you go, you will be the same, and you will make your life hard for yourself. You don’t want to run because of where you are. You want to run because of who you are.”
Storm pauses in her pacing and considers that for a moment. “Huh,” she says. “That makes sense, now you mention it.”
“Here is what is going to happen. We are going to catch a train back to the school,” Jane says. “And it’s not going to be as bad tomorrow as it was yesterday. Or at least, honestly, tomorrow might be quite unpleasant for you, but the day after will be better.”
“Of course it is going to be bad, you’re going to find some new hard thing to hit me with, and I just gave Kravik back, and…” Storm starts crying all over again, not because of the punishment, but because she already misses the dog so badly it hurts.
“I want to steal him back,” she sobs.
“I know. Come on. We need something to eat, and then we’re catching the train back.”
Storm follows obediently, though Jane suspects it is more out of a general sense of being lost than out of real obedience. For the moment, that will do.
They get food from one of the many bakeries open around the train station. It is simple fare good for settling the stomach and nerves, and finally a sort of peace reigns.
“So, it was uh, pretty funny when they thought you were me, huh?” Storm smiles, her mood and morale boosted by having eaten for what is probably the first time that day given how much of it she has spent either sulking or running.
“It was not funny at all, young lady, you were an absolute…” Jane searches for a word, finding it very difficult to come up with one. None of the obvious nouns seem to cover the breadth of that particular little performance.
“How stupid are they, actually, though?”
Jane refrains from comment.
Storm grins. She might be happiest with the dog, but she is second happiest when pushing her luck with Jane.
“I walked right past them on my way out,” she says. “The big dude yelled at me about the Birchbane grounds being private property. I didn’t so much actually run away as get thrown out.”
That is a piece of information Hannes had not elected to share with the headmistress, Jane notes privately.
“They're not very polite down there,” Storm continues. “Everyone in Basel is way nicer. The Swiss-Germans have a sense of humor about things. Down there they’re so serious. They make you look relaxed.”
Jane smiles and thinks about the array of implements she will use on this impertinent girl.
“Don’t look like that,” Storm says immediately. “That’s your plotting face.”
“Don’t give me a reason to plot, Storm,” Jane says smoothly.
“Bit late for that, probably,” Storm says.
“Very much so,” Jane agrees.
“There you are!” A booming male voice cuts into their conversation. Jane and Storm look up at the same time, their expressions echoing similar kinds of displeasure at the striding appearance of the Birchbane guard, Hannes, and the woman who appears to have self-relegated herself to the role of silent sidekick.