Charlotte looked up. "Well…it's important!"
Zee shook his head. "There are men attacking my friends, and I hide in the house." He hit his hand against the pillow. Bartholomew started and turned her blue eyes on him watchfully.
"Well, look!" Charlotte exclaimed. "By hiding, you actually helped everyone. The Footmen left London because you weren't going anywhere, you weren't leading them to anyone."
Zee shrugged. "And they came right over here and began to attack everyone." Charlotte looked at the bed. "It's ironic, isn't it? They found me because Gran died. And she's the only one who'd know what to do."
"She knew about Greek stuff?"
"No, no… she just… I don't know. She knew things. She'd know what to do."
"Oh," Charlotte said, as if she understood, which she didn't. She casually reached over and began to scratch Bartholomew on the head. "So… what was that about your grandmother and Mr. Metos?"
"What? Oh!" Zee shook his head and looked away. "Nothing. It wasn't anything… just a guess…"
Charlotte eyed him. He started twisting the strands on the pillow. He really didn't seem to Charlotte to be the type to have a lot of hunches, but she didn't think she could get anything else out of him now "Anyway," she said brightly, "we have someone who knows what to do. We have Mr. Metos. He knows all about this. He's going to take care of it. There's nothing for us to do."
Zee raised his eyebrows. "How do we know?"
"Huh?"
"How do we know he's going to take care of it? How do we know we can trust Mr. Metos? How do we know what he says is true?"
Charlotte blinked rapidly. That hadn't occurred to her and never would have occurred to her. Of course Mr. Metos was telling the truth. Who on Earth would make that up? She realized, too, that it had never occurred to her before that a teacher might lie, and then she felt a bit like a dork. "Why wouldn't we think so?" she asked. "Everything he said made perfect sense. He knew about the shadows, he knew about the men…"
"Yes, but"-Zee leaned in and whispered-"doesn't it seem awfully convenient that he was right there? I mean, he saved us just in time. How is that possible?"
"Well…" Charlotte paused. "I think he was following us. Watching us. Protecting us."
"Do we know that? How do we know if he's supposed to protect us or hurt us? Gran didn't…" He stopped and shook his head. "We don't know"
Charlotte squinted. "So… you want to just go out there? And do… what?"
"I don't know," Zee said. "But even if Mr. Metos is right, how do we know we're safe inside? I mean, why couldn't they just come in here and…" He trailed off
"What?"
"And, you know, take you. Or your shadow. Or whatever."
Charlotte bit her lip. She hugged her pillow a little tighter. "I just think we should listen to Mr. Metos…" She could hear how she sounded. All her life she'd been casting herself as some kind of heroine who would comport herself well in a story, if only there were one to be had-but now that there was danger and excitement and adventure, she was staying home.
"They took my blood, Charlotte!" Zee thumped his fist again. "They nicked my blood while I was sleeping, and they're using it to enchant an army made of the stolen shadows of people that I led them to… my friends… making them all incredibly sick. I have to do something!" He shook his head and quieted a bit. "Can't you see that?" he added, staring at her imploringly.
Charlotte's mouth hung open. It was the first time she had ever seen Zee talk like that. She didn't even know he had it in him. Any other time she'd compliment him or make fun of him or something, but on this particular occasion all she wanted to do was curl up on her bed with Bartholomew and cry. She swallowed. The air seemed only to be getting heavier. She didn't have a thing to say to Zee, nothing he would listen to, anyway, and she supposed, if she really thought about it, she could, yes, she could see what he was saying. And if she were in his position, she might feel the same way. Except she wouldn't be brave enough to say it.
"So… what are you going to do?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," Zee said. "I don't know"
"Look. Let's just wait a couple days for Mr. Metos, okay? Just for a couple of days. We'll stay inside, and then they can't take any more shadows. So no one else can get hurt. And you can, you know… make sure they don't come for me."
That would have been a low blow if Charlotte hadn't actually meant it. As much as she wanted to keep her word to Mr. Metos, and thus save the world, she also didn't like the idea of having those men come for her in the middle of the night, taking her shadow or her blood, or quite possibly her entire self. She could close her eyes and feel the ground opening beneath her, feel herself being grabbed and dragged down…
"All right," Zee said. "Two days. But then I'm going to go out and… I don't know. Follow the Footmen. I can't sit here and do nothing, Charlotte. I can't."
She nodded softly "I know."
Charlotte had a hard time sleeping that night. Visions of nightmares danced behind her eyes, except the nightmares were real. Hideous man-like creatures made of clay clutched at her with their bird-claw hands, and she could not run, she could not move, she could not yell. Were they nightmares or visions? She had no idea- she would just find herself shuddering awake and looking at the clock and seeing only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time she had awoken.
So it was a refreshing change for Charlotte to wake up to the sound of a soft knock on her door. She opened her eyes, and her mother's head popped in the doorway.
"Charlotte?" she whispered. "Are you still awake? I saw the lights…"
"Oh… I must have fallen asleep with the lights on." This was technically true-she did, in fact, fall asleep with the lights on; no need to mention that it was on purpose.
Her mother smiled. "Let me turn them off."
"No… no… I'm not sleeping well. I might read for a while." The words just popped out of her mouth, but really it sounded like an excellent plan. No nightmares when you are reading! There are many wonderful things about reading, but surely that is one of the most wonderful of all.
"It's pretty late, sweetie," Mrs. Mielswetzski said kindly "Just a little, then try to get some sleep. Good night, my dear." And she disappeared.
"Mom?" Charlotte called quickly after her. "Will you tuck me in?"
Her mother reappeared in the doorway and smiled a motherly smile. "Of course, dear." Mrs. Mielswetzski sat on the edge of the bed and put her head on Charlotte's forehead. "I'm having trouble sleeping too. I just went down to drink some warm milk. It's strange tonight." She paused. "You know," she said, beginning to stroke Charlotte's hair, "you used to fall asleep with the lights on all the time when you were younger. You'd read into the night and just fall asleep. Your father and I would come in and find you clutching your book, and we'd tuck you in and turn out the lights. You never woke up, you were such a good sleeper."
Charlotte relaxed a little, letting her mother run her hands through her hair. Her eyes closed, her shoulders fell into her body, her bones sank into the bed. She exhaled.
"That's my girl."
"Do you know where Mew is?" Charlotte asked sleepily.
"She's prowling around downstairs." Mrs. Mielswetzski laughed a little. "She's strange tonight too! I don't know what it is. She keeps watching out the windows and growling."
Charlotte's eyes flew open. "Oh!" With a flash she remembered Mew's behavior earlier in the night, when they were leaving. She had not wanted them to leave. Almost as if she knew…
"Must be another cat out there or something," her mother said.
"Must be," Charlotte said weakly.
"Okay, honey, I'm going to try to sleep. You do the same, okay?" Mrs. Mielswetzski kissed her daughter on the forehead, tucked the blankets up, and headed to the hallway-leaving the lights on, which suited Charlotte just fine.