Chapter Twenty-Two:

I quickly dressed (which is quite the task without the use of hands). I found a vile-looking porridge by my door, which was basically what I'd had last night (food in Devil's Acre is revolting). I sniffed it, and decided that food was overrated.

I found the others in a big, open room down the hall. I walked over to Miss Peregrine, who was distanced far from the others (as usual). We had found that I was now immune to her 'bubble of doom', as Enoch liked to call it, and Miss Peregrine had used me as a messenger between her and the rest of us whenever she herself couldn't get through to them during our discussions last night.

"Miss Peregrine?" I said. "Horace said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes, yes," She said distantly. She was watching the others talk, though she looked a bit lost in thought.

"I have something to tell you too," I told her. "Though maybe we could move to a different room?"

"Of course."

We vacated the room, Miss Peregrine telling everyone that we'd be right back, and moved into the next one. She closed the door behind us.

"Mr. Nullings," Miss Peregrine said into the empty-looking room. "Don't even attempt to eavesdrop."

"Oh, alright," A voice said from the far corner of the room, making me jump. Millard must have rushed in before us. I had no idea how Miss Peregrine was able to tell he was in the room. "I suppose I'll be caught up later then?"

"If I see fit," Miss Peregrine answered. "Now out you go. And for Bird's sake, put on some clothes!"

Millare didn't answer, but I could hear his footsteps lead straight out the door, opening and shutting it. The footsteps trailed away down the hall.

Miss Peregrine continued as if nothing had happened. "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I had weird dreams last night," I began. "They were my memories, but they were different." I proceeded to tell Miss Peregrine about the lights, the feelings, the scenes. "What do you think it meant?"

"Perhaps these lights were your reaction from your different emotions." Miss Peregrine said slowly. "Invisible to the regular human eye, but significant."

"In what way?" I ask.

"I'm not sure," She admitted. "But the color of these lights seem to be an important factor, as well as the areas it's coming from and moving to."

"I- I think I accidentally stole some of Horace's second soul," I said. "The white light that I saw in his foot that moved to mine."

"But he's still having dreams," Miss Peregrine stated. It wasn't a question. "So if it was his second soul you saw- and I'm not saying I know for sure that it was- then you only took a small sliver. Perhaps that's why your peculiarity seems to revolve around dreams and visions now, especially after that moment with Mr. Somnusson."

"That's what I was thinking."

"As for the rest of the scenes, you recall being excited and interested in them, yes?" She didn't wait for an answer. "It seems that different emotions cause different reactions. You say that you only received happy or peaceful moments from Mr. Portman, as well as his grandfather telling his stories- which is what you were wondering about when you first met him."

Everything was starting to make a bit more sense now, but not much. My mind felt like it was being twisted into knots.

"And you had no physical contact with him when you met. With me, you did. So, possibly, physical contact also plays a factor."

I was still trying to catch up. "You came up with all of this right now?"

"Of course," Miss Peregrine said. "I may be called a time traveler, but I don't know the future. If I did, my life would be much easier."

"So," I said, my mind finally starting to understand. "You're saying that the color of the light decides my connection with the person? And that if I had physical contact with that person decides the strength of the connection?"

"It's plausible."

"But why those moments?" I ask. "And how?"

"You already know how- It's your peculiarity." Miss Peregrine said, then shrugged, an odd movement for someone so serious. "The rest is, as your book said, unknown."

We sat in silence for a moment.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I ask, suddenly remembering that Miss Peregrine had wanted to talk to me as well.

"Ah yes," exclaimed the headmistress. "I approached my brother last night, and asked him about a possible way to temporarily prevent your hands from making anything vanish, vibrate, and such. As weak-minded as Bentham is, he has a knack for finding solutions to problems. And I know it must be hard for you to keep yourself from touching anything."

"And?"

"He believes your oddity has a way of reversing time. When you touch others, they seem to age backward and then disappear, correct?" She was making a lot of sense. "He concluded that if we were to somehow trick your senses, make it seem like something has existed forever, then you wouldn't destroy it. He developed a formula and applied it to these gloves. All you have to do is try to put them on. Then we'll see if they work." She held out a pair of gloves.

My heart pumped stronger and I reached out and took the gloves carefully from Miss Peregrine's hands. I tenderly pulled them on. Slowly... slowly... But after a moment of tense silence, they fell through my hands and vanished.

"Ah well," Miss Peregrine said, looking at the floor where the gloves had just fallen, then evaporated. "It was a good first trail. I would have been shocked if my brother had gotten it right on the first try." But still, disappointment surged through me. Would I have to stay like this forever?

The door was thrust open, making both of us jump. Emma stood in the doorway.

"We have to hide!" She hissed. "A bunch of wights are at the door, demanding to search the house!"

"Why don't we just kill them?" I asked.

"Because then the rest of them will know something's up!" Emma explained. "We got to hide, make it seem like we've vanished!"

"Where is everyone else?" Miss Peregrine inquired.

"Bentham's got a hidden attic," Emma explained. "They're already there, I imagine. They were rushing up when I came to get you."

"Is there enough room for me?"

"I don't think so- but Bentham said you could transform and hide somewhere small. Anybody would die if they got to close anyway. "

"Go on, then," Miss Peregrine told me. "I'll hide, but you go to the attic. If they find you there, give them all you have."

"Okay," I said. I wanted to argue, but I was too rushed. Emma had already grabbed my shoulders and pushed me toward the door.

The attic wasn't much of a secret one. True, the entrance was up on the ceiling in a really dark closet, but it wasn't concealed with anything else other than the shadows. With difficulty, I climbed up the rope ladder using my arms, not my hands, and hulled myself up into the small room. There definitely wasn't any room for Miss Peregrine. I hoped she would be okay, but there wasn't anything I could do. We sat crowded in the little room.

All of a sudden, Jake gasped. His hand leapt to his midsection and his eyes glazed over. It was obvious what he was feeling. The wights had brought a hollow.

We all held our breath, except Emma, who wanted to make sure Jake was okay. When he recovered, he inched toward the door in the floor. I inched forward as well. I would probably be better at fending the hollow off (if it came to that- which I hoped it wouldn't) than Jake. But he could see them and sense them.

We were so tense, the air felt thick. We could hear thumping just below us.

Then, all of a sudden, Jake felt the hollow go. We heard the thump of footsteps down the hall, the faint sound of voices, and a door slam. It seemed we were safe.

Then there was a knock on the door. Jake jumped, but soon a voice called through.

"It's safe to come out now!" It was Bentham. "Their gone."

I breathed a sigh of relief and Jake went out. I followed, being extra slow because if I touched that rope ladder, it would just evaporate beneath me.

Miss Peregrine was leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, analyzing each of us from afar. She was a worrier.

"Just as they were about to find you, she scared them off." Bentham said to me. "Got close enough one of those wights flickered out and I was able to spin a story of a dead peculiar who came back to haunt the house and guard against intruders. Those wights didn't see fit to check every nook and cranny anymore. Practically ran out of here." He snickered. He seemed fine with Miss Peregrine's presence now. 

I figured his newfound comfort was because he now knew he would be less likely to die with his sister around.