Waiting

Although it was only 0.01 points, it marked a change from zero to one, which meant that using spells was possible.

But why?

Because he had drunk the potion?

Old Williams's recipe didn't mention anything about that... His recipe was very brief.

Still, compared to the potion, Hope felt it was more likely to be that shadow or the Steel Pen. One had chanted a spell, while spell-like words had floated above the other...

"Spells" were the only things Hope knew of that were connected to mana.

Hmm, it probably wasn't because he'd heard a spell being chanted... This wasn't the first time Hope had heard one. When Wilbur used spells, they hadn't had this effect...

He rubbed his chin, lost in thought... Was it because the shadow was closely connected to me... or because of those strange runes on the pen...

Wait, if he remembered correctly, Great Night Hawk's mana seemed to be zero, yet the shadow could use spells...

Maybe things weren't as he imagined. The shadow had to be connected to Great Night Hawk, but it wasn't necessarily the hawk's soul... Night Hawks devoured the souls of the extraordinary...

Could the shadow be the soul of an extraordinary person that Great Night Hawk had devoured?

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. It would explain why Great Night Hawk was so much larger than an ordinary Night Hawk—because Great Night Hawk really had devoured a soul. That soul had caused it to evolve somehow, giving it a larger body and greater intelligence.

Most importantly, if it really was the soul of an extraordinary person... how long had it been devoured, and why hadn't it disappeared yet...

Could "devouring" mean imprisonment rather than digestion...

Was it still conscious? Did it still know who it was?

The thought made Hope shudder. Secretly, he hoped his theory was wrong.

He decided to seek out the Night Hawk himself tomorrow night and awaken that shadow again... But to be safe, he wouldn't bring the pen this time.

Once he'd made up his mind, Hope forced himself to calm down and get ready for bed, waiting for tomorrow to come.

He hoped Professor Armitage and Elizabeth would arrive soon.

Hope felt vaguely uneasy.

So far, he hadn't met either Professor Armitage or Old Whateley. He knew nothing about his most reliable ally or his most dangerous enemy.

The anxiety brought on by this uncertainty had surfaced after Elizabeth left, and it would keep growing as time passed.

Early morning, June 7, 1928

That was, just as the sun rose the next day.

The pocket watch showed exactly six o'clock.

Hope woke up. He realized that, for the sake of his health, he would have to take a nap today to make up for his lost sleep.

He felt a little dejected. In his dream, Old Whateley and Wilbur had already been brought to justice by Professor Armitage, and he had been freed... But when he woke up, nothing had changed.

The second day of waiting for Professor Armitage to swoop in and save him.

Hope's room did have toiletries, but no faucet.

Besides the aluminum kettle for drinking water, there was a bucket with a wooden board for a lid. The water in it served several purposes, the most important of which was flushing the toilet. After trying it yesterday, Hope had learned that the toilet in his room had no cistern. To flush it, he had to pour water from the bucket into the bowl by hand.

And since there was no washbasin in the room, Hope soon realized he'd have to brush his teeth over the toilet too.

For the first time since he'd developed a cavity, Hope felt that brushing his teeth wasn't all that important... He ran his tongue over his teeth and found that this body had no cavities.

He spent the morning reading Common Herb Collection. It wasn't just to pass the time. Since Writer Hope had gone to the trouble of recording all this, he must have thought it would be useful to someone someday.

Hope didn't intend to let Writer Hope's efforts go to waste.

The strange stories interspersed throughout the book fascinated him. They made for good reading, like this one:

"Putting belladonna juice in the eyes dilates the pupils, making them look as though they're sparkling. Thus, for a time, belladonna was a highly favored cosmetic among women... Side effect: dilated pupils leave them unable to see clearly, and the effect lasts seven or eight days... So only noblewomen use it..."

But other things left him puzzled:

"Belladonna's ability to dilate the pupils must come from its atropine content... Atropine can block muscarinic receptors, suppress parasympathetic activity, treat bradycardia, and reduce secretions..."

Hope wondered if Old Whateley knew about this stuff too... Even cultists in the modern age had to use modern ideas to brew potions.

The Whateleys ate only two meals a day, with no breakfast. Today's lunch was the same as yesterday's: canned peas as the main course and fried meat as a side.

The fried meat was served in slices on a plate. Hope speared one and realized Wilbur must have fried some canned luncheon meat.

According to his agreement with Lavinia, half the luncheon meat on the plate belonged to her. In return, Lavinia had brought him newspapers too.

They were the Arkham GG-Man and the New Federation Newspaper, both dated June 6, the previous day.

Lavinia said, "I'll bring today's papers this afternoon. Dad still needs to read them for now."

She was a woman of her word. She'd also eaten Hope's food yesterday, so she'd brought him the previous day's papers first.

"Does Wilbur know?" Hope asked. This was crucial. It would determine whether he had to read them in secret or could do so openly.

Lavinia hesitated. "It's best not to let him know."

Hope nodded, showing that he understood what she meant:

Lavinia had taken the papers behind Wilbur's back, but if Wilbur caught her, she was confident she could win an argument with him on the strength of the food.

Night had fallen again. Lavinia had come by twice that day, bringing food and newspapers, at 11:10 in the morning and 5:57 in the evening. She told Hope she'd take the papers back tomorrow afternoon after he'd finished reading them.

Wilbur had come once, at 6:21 in the evening, to replace Hope's bucket and kettle.

After his nap, Hope felt refreshed. He watched the pocket watch as the hands moved around to 11:30 p.m.

He closed his eyes and arrived in the Rose Garden, but he didn't stay there. He left the garden and walked toward the woods beyond it.

Hope was sure there had to be Night Hawks in the woods, but he couldn't hear a sound from outside, so he had no choice but to venture farther in.

The forest seemed to be part of Old Williams's land too, but it was full of broadleaf trees and shrubs Hope didn't recognize, separating Old Williams House from the other residents' homes.

The only path to walk on was a dusty, winding trail. Various vines grew along its edges. Some blocked the way, and Hope picked his way around them through gaps.

Among the vines were a few flowering plants, mostly red and pink, with tiny flowers about a quarter the size of his palm and yellow stamens.

As Hope walked farther into the woods, the chirping of insects and birds grew louder. Amid it all, he picked out the "Tata" sound he'd been looking for.