They put on hats and buttoned their wool coats all the way up before leaving the apartment. Celia wasn’t sure she wanted to go to the cathedral and be with hunters, but Ruby was right: they needed all the help they could get. And being surrounded by trained fighters sounded like a better idea than being alone right now.
“Strange weather,” one of Celia’s neighbors said. The middle-aged woman stood in the hallway wearing an old bathrobe as she stared out the window. “I’ve got extra canned food—you kids need any?”
“No.”
“Stay indoors today,” she whispered. “Wait until the strange things pass. That’s what we always do in Youngstown.” She pulled her robe tightly around her.
The three girls scurried past her and down the stairs. When they got to the foyer, the paper storm swirled and blew against the glass front door.
Ruby opened the door and a muffled silence entered the hall as bits of whiteness blew in and settled on the carpet. Ruby put her hand out into the storm. In a couple of seconds she held a handful of paper and threw it at Amber and Celia. It fell apart into a hundred pieces that fluttered to the ground.
Amber held her hand out to Celia. “Let’s not get lost. Ever again.”
Celia looked at her hand. “You trying to make sure I don’t sneak off and decide things that you don’t want me to decide?”
“Maybe. A little bit. Sorry. Is that awful?” Amber asked.
“Yeah.”
“When all this is over, I’m going to prove I’m really your friend,” Amber said. “I don’t know how. But I’m going to be there for you, in a real way.”
“Okay,” Celia said, and grabbed her hand. The storm was a wall of white paper, and she didn’t want to be alone in it.
They stepped outside with Ruby leading the way and Amber in the middle. The silence was so complete that it felt like deafness.
“Hello,” Celia said, just to hear herself speak. Bits of paper clung to her lips. She pulled her coat collar up over her nose as black text swirled by in all directions. Most of it was too small to read, but Celia could make out a few words as they floated by.
Going.
Walk.
Stormy weather.
Amber’s hand tugged her forward inside this blindingly white world. How was Ruby navigating through it? Celia couldn’t see her own feet, let alone the road.
She squinted to keep the paper out of her eyes. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of a library. Her feet slid over the growing mounds of paper, and each step was uneven. She lurched forward.
Demetri.
The word floated by. Maybe she’d imagined it?
Demetri.
It flashed again on a slip of falling paper.
There are a million Russian books with that name, she told herself. Maybe these were the pages of classic novels. She’d heard of snow blindness. Maybe this was some sort of word blindness, playing tricks on her.
Demetri hurting.
The words flew by, written in bold black letters.
She tried to grab it, to hold the proof in her hand, but it swirled away, one piece among thousands.
Celia’s eyes streamed tears as she tried to read other messages in the storm. Clots of paper stuck to her cheeks.
Demetri
Trouble
Trouble
Demetri
Her friend’s name floated by, and Celia tried to catch it.
Amber’s fingers jerked forward and slipped out of Celia’s hand. Celia reached for her, but all she touched was more paper. Her arms groped into the downpour. She ran forward. Her foot caught on a bump in the road, and she fell.
“Amber! Ruby!” she yelled. Paper coated her lips and tongue.
Silence. Celia got up and walked, sweeping her arms in wide circles and yelling out for the two girls. The more she moved, the more she knew she wouldn’t find them.
“I’m alone,” she said, but could barely hear her own voice. The world, in every direction, was a downpour of silence.
Celia
A piece of paper drifted by, and this time she snatched it from the air and held on to the bit of proof. She stared at her name, written in bold letters. On the other side it read, Demetri captured.
Doom
Doom
Doom
The words drifted by, and she walked in the direction those words came from. I’ll save him. If he’s in trouble, I’ll find him and save him. She followed her name, and Demetri’s, and when they came from the right, that’s where she turned. There must have been cars, lampposts, and fire hydrants on the road, but Celia didn’t run into any of them. She walked like the whole world only existed a couple of feet ahead of and behind her. The bits of paper led her forward, and on she went, one step at a time.
Her feet stumbled over some steps. She climbed their slippery, paper-covered slope and came to a red door.
Celia.
Doom.
Celia.
Bits of paper with her name on it blew against the door, held there for a moment by the wind before dropping to the ground.
Messages falling inside a magical storm had led her to this house. Someone wanted her here.
There were two great magicians in the city: Demetri and Krawl. Which one had called her here?
Demetri
Inside
Trouble
Celia spit out bits of paper that floated into her mouth and closed her eyes against the overwhelming whiteness. She searched for a plan, for any idea of what she could do to protect herself and her friends from anything bad that might happen.
She stood with her eyes closed for a long moment, then opened them and knocked on the door, because she couldn’t think of anything better to do.