Antebellum Awakening (34 page)

“I can’t give you that.”

“You can’t help me at all?” I asked, clutching to hope. “You can’t tell—”

“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

We sat in the silence while I tried to collect my thoughts.

“Did you see it?” I asked, finally giving voice to the question that had plagued me for over six months. “Did you see Miss Mabel killing my mother when you first interviewed me?”

Isadora’s aged face turned down, the wrinkles elongating into a sad expression.

“I saw much grief and struggle. I saw many graves. I saw sadness and fire.”

Many graves.
The words echoed through my head.

“Will you tell me what you see now?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“No,” she said in the same firm tone Leda used. “I will not.”

I couldn’t blame her, not really. Deep down, I didn’t want to know the future. What if I saw something I’d never planned on? What if it frightened me into inaction? But although I’d had this conversation with Leda plenty of times before, for some reason it hurt more tonight. Perhaps I simply had more to lose.

“You said that I had strengths that Miss Mabel didn’t,” I said, recalling our last conversation. “Am I any stronger?”

Isadora paused, glancing down at my right hand, which rested on my lap near Viveet. The circlus sat there, unchanged.

“Do you feel stronger?” she asked.

“Physically, yes.”

“How about here?” Isadora tapped her heart with the top of her fingers. I pressed my hand over mine, not sure of how to answer. Was my heart any stronger? I had better control over my powers, but the wrathful dragon still paced inside me, the living embodiment of my rage for Miss Mabel. I still woke up every day wanting my mother back. I still dreaded the night and longed for the morning.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

Isadora stared at me. Seeming to relent under some invisible pressure, she let out a sigh.

“I see more than you think and more than you can comprehend right now,” she said. “I can only tell you to watch and be valiant. There is much death coming, much death.”

Her voice faded, sounding morose.

“I figured that.”

“There’s more to fear than just the West, Bianca. You already know that.”

I stared back at Isadora for a moment, debating over whether I should trust her with my latest conjecture regarding Miss Mabel and Angelina. Then again, if I couldn’t trust Isadora, who could I trust?

“Isadora, I have suspicions that I can’t share.” The protective magic of the binding sent a cool grip around my voice, a warning. Isadora’s brow fell low as she regarded me. I gave her the space to sift through the memories in my head.

“Yes,” she finally said. Her face darkened, like a storm had just moved over it. “I can see what you want to talk about. You think that Mabel has found the Almorran
Book of Spells
and plans to use it to take over Antebellum?”

I nodded.

“There’s no proof that the book really exists. It’s all hearsay and speculation.”

“The scroll in the library—”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I know. It says it was lost, not destroyed. There’s also the matter of Angelina.”

Her eyes glazed over again, going distant. When she came back to the present, she drew in a deep breath.

“I need to do some seeing. It may take time but I should be able to gain more information about the
Book of Spells
and Angelina.”

Knowing that someone heard my fears took a great burden off my chest. If I died tomorrow, at least Isadora could press forward with the information I’d given her. I sank back against the chair in relief.

“Thank you, Isadora,” I whispered.

“Blessings on you, Bianca. You’re going to need all the strength you have to make it through what’s coming.”

•••

A stark sense of impending doom crept up on me as I hiked back into Letum Wood, Isadora’s at my back. Unable to talk myself out of the melancholy, I transported to the trails outside Chatham Castle, as familiar as the warm veins of blood on the back of my hand. My anxiety drifted into my run. Rushing past the dark trees, leaping over the boulders, and navigating the maze of tree roots cleared my head. Letum Wood made me feel strong again. Or was it the magic? Sometimes I couldn’t discern the difference.

By the time I made it back to the apartment, the night had advanced. The late shift of Guardians patrolled the Wall. Double that number flanked every floor on the grand staircase and the entrances. The Royal Hall teamed with Guardians and Protectors, those visible and those not. Perhaps the High Priestess knew what I could not say.

Miss Mabel is coming. Soon. She’ll be here soon.

After washing my sticky skin and changing into a cool blue linen dress with cap sleeves and a swooping neckline trimmed with white ribbon, I started up the Witchery stairs, barefoot. The anxiety from talking to Isadora had turned into a nagging headache, but I ignored it and climbed to the top anyway, hopeful that my friends were still awake.

If this is it,
I thought, gazing around the familiar turret walls,
if I die tomorrow, I’ll live my last night in style.

Camille stood in front of a mirror, practicing curling her hair, wearing only her binder and a set of light knickers. She let out a yelp when the door slammed into the wall and I burst into the room. Michelle jerked, overturning an inkwell. Leda slowly glanced up from a book, annoyed.

“I’m going to stay up all night,” I declared, breathless. “Who’s with me?”

Camille dropped a curl and spun around.

“What?”

“Let’s stay up all night!” I said, exhilarated with the idea. “We can go raid the kitchen and bring all the food back here and play games.”

Camille gasped for joy.

“I’ve always wanted to stay up all night talking!” she cried, throwing herself onto a pillow. “Oh, it sounds wonderful. We can talk about the ball and braid each other’s hair. Ooh! Let’s sneak into the library and un-alphabetize the books.” She let out an evil giggle. Leda rolled her eyes and tucked herself back into the tome she was studying.

“I’m working early tomorrow so I can get off in time to get ready for the ball,” Michelle said, watching the thick pool of spilled ink gather back into the bottle with a collection incantation.

“I don’t do well without sleep,” Leda replied carelessly.

“Oh, come on!” I pleaded first to Michelle and then to Leda. “It’ll be fun! Plus, Fina will never miss it if we steal some goodies because they’re making so many for tomorrow. What’s more fun than stuffing our face with chocolate and brownies?”

“Nothing!” Camille squeaked. “Nothing at all! I’m in!”

“Please?” I begged. “Do it for me.”

Because I may never have another chance.

Michelle seemed to have read my thoughts. “Bianca,” she whispered. “I forgot. Tomorrow is your seventeenth birthday.”

The room fell silent, destroying the amicable mood I’d tried to force. Leda set aside her book and straightened.

“Tomorrow?” she demanded, her lips pinching in a tight line. “No, it can’t be tomorrow.”

Camille’s joy died into an instant set of tears.

“What? It’s tomorrow?”

“No!” I cried, frantically trying to get the jovial air back. “No! We aren’t doing this. We aren’t! I just . . . I just want to have one fun night. Just in case. Okay? We won’t act like I’m going to die tomorrow.” Camille’s lower lip began to tremble, and I tacked on, “Because I’m not.” The silence grew cumbersome, then awkward.

“Right,” Leda declared, standing up. She met my eyes with a small, resolute smile. “The High Priestess promised you that she’d sort it out, and she will. Let’s have a fun night. Brownies it is!”

Michelle stood. “I’m in,” she said. “I-I’m not sure I can stay awake all night, but I’ll try.”

Camille clapped, sniffled, and stood up, her eyes still sparkling with unshed tears.

“Indeed! The High Priestess will have it put to rights. We’ll think of nothing but having fun for the rest of the night!” she declared. “Let’s go swim without clothes in the pond! I’ve always wanted to try.”

We started our celebration by sneaking into the kitchen by the back staircase. Michelle created a distraction while the rest of us filched brownies, tarts, lemon bars, a bottle of fizzy water, and a handful of cranberry poppy seed muffins, piling our ill-gotten gains onto a tray. I stuffed a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a few other goodies in a pillowcase. Then we left, running back up the stairs with hushed giggles and Leda’s panicked threats that we’d be found if we didn’t hush up. When Mrs. L saw us from the other end of a hall and called out, we ran for the turret and threw ourselves into the safety of the stairwell before she caught us. I put a protective incantation on the stairs to keep her out, just in case.

“Oh, don’t forget to try the lemon bar,” Camille sighed an hour later, her eyes closed as she savored the sweet-and-tart pastry. We sat around the table, our fare spread out in a lavish feast before us, the turret windows thrown open. “It’s simply divine.”

Michelle tried a bit of croissant glazed with strawberry and chocolate. Leda, who for once didn’t have a book within arm’s length, dove into a berry tart and didn’t speak for minutes. The remnants of our food hurricane were scattered on the floor around us. Camille had stripped all the way down to her knickers and binder again, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a high ponytail.

“They are going to serve fifty different kinds of pie tomorrow,” Michelle said, picking out a chunk of sponge cake.

“The Central Network has always celebrated with food,” Camille said, sucking the frosting off her fingers. “Which is precisely why I shall always consider it home. At least I know I’ll be in good company. I do hope there’s a Milton berry pie tomorrow.”

“There will be,” Michelle said with a happy sigh.

I eyed a square brownie loaded with frosting. I’d just finished a slice of chocolate cake. Should I?

Might as well,
I thought, and snatched it before Leda could. She changed course and went for an eclair instead.

“Oh, I’m so excited to go to the Anniversary Ball!” Camille said, recovering her usual breathy tone. “I’m just going to die when I have to leave to go back to school in the fall.”

“What if they don’t start school back up?” I asked after swallowing a thick bite of brownie. All three of them stopped chewing to stare at me.

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked. “Why would they stop school?”

Realizing that I had spoken up too soon—I couldn’t explain what Isadora told me without having to explain why I went to Isadora in the first place—I tried to dance around it.

“With war becoming more and more likely,” I said in a musing tone, “Isadora may not deem it safe to run the Network schools until the danger subsides.”

Camille waved it off.

“I’ll just stay here with you and Miss Scarlett. It would be amazing!”

“I don’t think it will happen,” Leda said in a cool tone as she took another bite of eclair dripping with cream filling. A drop fell and plopped onto her hand. She sucked it off. “It will all work out.”

“You aren’t worried?” I asked. I wondered what she saw that she wasn’t telling me. Leda avoided my eyes.

“No.”

“Let’s play a card game, shall we?” Camille asked, grabbing a deck of cards. “Zeke taught me a really fun one. Then, once it’s really late, we’ll sneak to the pond and go swimming.”

The cards spilled all over the floor when she opened the flap, scattering into a hundred different places. The mishap broke the strand of tension in the air and all of us dissolved into laughter, reclaiming the joy we’d felt and forgetting that it could be our last night together.

The Empowerment

A
ll of us fell asleep shortly after Michelle went to work in the kitchens, just before the sunrise. I woke to Camille slapping me while she mumbled in her sleep, and I plucked a reed out of my hair from our wicked trip to the pond. Leda was nowhere to be found. I got up with the sun and quickly dressed, tucking my hair into an orderly braid and tossing it over one shoulder. I had an Empowerment to attend.

Two Guardians stood near the grand staircase as I walked past. The added security set my teeth on edge. With the ball tonight, and all the Coven Leaders and their families here, Papa and Tiberius had taken every safety precaution. Miss Mabel’s letter ran through my mind, and I shuddered. I wished again, for the hundredth time, that I could send out a warning of what may come. I’d tried, only to find cold silence tightening my throat.

I sucked in a deep breath and steered myself for the Royal Hall. The Guardians stood in the path, barring any entrance. Before I could explain my presence they parted, letting me through.

The Throne Room stood at the end of the hall, just before the High Priestess’s office. The double doors contained our history in a quick glimpse. I stopped long enough to study the elaborate carvings that started at the top and worked their way down. Esmelda filled up the left corner at the top, and the rule of High Priests and Priestesses moved across the door. A black x marked Evelyn’s spot.