Sometimes By Moonlight by Heather Davis Page B

Was he even alive? Panic rose in me like a terrible wave. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine he was out there, recovering from a mere graze, but the truth was that he could be dead. And my fears of losing him, of losing us would be coming true.
     
    Next to me, Patricia raised her hand. “Who was it? This perpetrator?”
     
    “I saw a dark figure,” Hans said. “A man, I am pretty sure, moving fast near the fence.”
     
    I couldn’t help but ask, “Was he armed?”
     
    Hans glowered at me. “There are clearly posted signs for several kilometers around the perimeter of Steinfelder, warning intruders they will be shot. This has always been a deterrent, up until now.”
     
    “You shot an unarmed subject?” Patricia gave him a funny look. “I don’t see how that is ethical.”
     
    Madame LaCroix tut-tutted. “This is private property. Trespassing is not taken lightly here.”
     
    “We Swiss have well-armed citizens. Our right to defend ourselves is an important part of maintaining our neutrality,” said Herr Eppler.
     
    “If we’ve exhausted all the questions, I think we should return to our normal activities,” Madame LaCroix said.
     
    “Just stay away from the fence,” I muttered.
     
    Hans gave me a sideways smile. “Exactly.”
     
    “Gentlemen, thank you. Teachers, let’s have a brief meeting in the staff dining room,” Madame said, before stalking off.
     
    The gathering dissolved, some girls retreating to the library, others going to hang outside for awhile. I curled into one of the armchairs near the living room fire, pondering my options. There were three choices as far as I could see. I could go out into the woods to search for Austin and possibly get shot by the overzealous and now probably paranoid Hans. I could rally some help from the outside—Muldania. Or I could run away from Steinfelder altogether. Maybe I would do all three.
     
    For my second and third options, I needed to get to a laptop or a cell phone and my passport. All of those things were in Madame LaCroix’s office, and she and the teachers would be wrapped up in a meeting for the next few minutes. I glanced over to Marie-Rose, who was helping Patricia with a crossword puzzle. I didn’t know if she was watching over me for Austin or the bad guys, but I didn’t need a shadow now, not when it really counted.
     
    I got up with my water glass, pretending to walk to the kitchen, but took a turn down the administrator’s hallway. As I passed the display case of Duke Steinfelder’s collection, I shuddered with the knowledge that the silver dagger must have been used to kill werewolves.
     
    When I reached Madame’s office, the door was open. I ditched my water glass and went straight to the desk. It was tempting to try the laptop first, but I figured finding my passport would be pretty easy. One of her desk drawers was locked. I tried to picture her key ring in my mind. I didn’t remember there being a small key like the one this drawer called for, so it had to be hidden nearby. Madame definitely underestimated her students’ bravery. She’d assume no one would be dumb enough to break into her office and rummage in her desk. 
     
    I pulled open the unlocked drawers and felt for keys taped beneath them. Nothing. And then my eyes lit on the candy jar on the desk. I found a tiny key there, taped to the bottom of the lid. When I opened the locked drawer, I found the typical contraband: chocolate bars, some cigarettes, and a couple of cell phones. I pocketed one that looked like it could be mine and relocked the drawer.
     
    “Where are you, passport?” I murmured, moving out from behind the desk.
     
    Against the far wall, beneath another portrait of the duke, stood a file cabinet. That might make more sense for official documents. The drawers were locked, of course. I tried a few more hiding places for a key, but came up empty. Then I spied Madame’s very sharp mother of pearl letter opener. I’d learned many