Antebellum Awakening (38 page)

Read Antebellum Awakening Online

Authors: Katie Cross

Tags: #Nightmare, #Magic, #Witchcraft, #Young Adult

BOOK: Antebellum Awakening
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My eyes narrowed. “He’s not mine.”

“He certainly seems to like you.”

“They’re out tonight?”

“Three of them are circling the castle in the air right now.”

My stomach twisted. “Have you told Papa?”

“He knows.”

My heart gave a little tremor.

“It’s not a good sign,” I whispered in a distant voice. Suddenly, all of this seemed very overwhelming. It left me short of breath. But after months of preparing, I couldn’t deny feeling a certain relief that the time had finally come. At least I wouldn’t stress over it anymore.

“From the time it was built, the ballroom has been protected by an old magic that the original builders of the castle used. A foolish one in my opinion,” Merrick said in a grim voice, his brow low over his beautiful green eyes. “It doesn’t allow anyone to transport in. Or out.”

“So if something did happen—”

“We’d be trapped inside, unable to transport out. You have Viveet, right?”

“Of course,” I said lightly, smiling at an elderly woman that waddled by. Viveet was strapped to my right thigh, feeling ice cold. “I never leave her out of sight.”

“Take this. Wrap it around your ankle. Just in case you need it later.”

He stopped us where we were on the edge of the crowd and handed me a small dagger, similar to the one I lost in the Western Network when I tried to stab the
Book of Contracts
.

“Now?” I asked, gazing around.

“Yes. Now.”

Flustered, I knelt down and tied it to my left ankle. When I straightened back up, no one seemed any wiser.

“Good,” he said. “Just keep an eye out. I’m going to look around. Let me know if you see anything suspicious.”

“You look nice tonight, by the way,” I blurted out before he pulled away.

“Thanks.” His eyes met mine, and, if I didn’t know any better, looked amused.

“I-I’ve felt the same way you have all night,” I said then, wanting to break the awkward tension. “It’s not just you.”

“The other Protectors feel it too,” he said, his tone dropping low in a warning. “It always means something.”

The pain in my head took a turn for the worse, making me suddenly dizzy. I turned away from the twirling mass of bodies with a grimace, feeling lightheaded just being near the motion.

“What’s wrong?” Merrick asked, stepping back toward me.

“A headache, that’s all. I’ll be fine. Go. Go look around. Be alert to any changes and protect my father, please.”

I stumbled over the words, barely able to release them before the magic took my throat hostage again. He hesitated, but soon disappeared, expertly blending into the crowd.

Grateful that he’d left, and moving as if blind, I pushed through the substantial crowd of witches along the edges of the ballroom, my eyes half-open. How would I ever look for Miss Mabel while combating such an explosive headache? It felt like someone had a spike to my temples and was driving it in with a large hammer.

The first scream rang out seconds later.

At first I thought I’d imagined it. Maybe one of the violinists had missed a note while playing. But then it happened again. I came to a dead halt. No one else seemed to have heard. The dresses continued to whirl by in dizzying streaks of chiffon and lace. Witches, already getting rummy on ipsum, tilted their heads back and laughed. Perhaps I had picked up on something outside.

Unwilling to bet on so simple an explanation, I spun around and sought my father, confident that he would have heard it as well. Barely able to see him above the crush of people, I caught only a brief glimpse of his tense face. He ignored those nearby, his eyes darting throughout the room. My heart pounded. Papa had heard it too. A damning confirmation that all was not well.

Just across from him, Zane moved into fast action, slipping along the walls behind the ring of people around the dance floor, headed for the High Priestess. Another bad sign. The high-pitched scream came closer, exacerbating my headache. I forced myself to shove through the crowd. This was it. I could feel it.

She’s here.

I had the inexplicable urge to start screaming, to tell people to leave the ballroom, but who would listen? A few witches behind me stopped to gaze around when a third shriek sounded, asking each other, “Did you hear that?”

The next high-pitched sound split through my head, making me see white. I stumbled, barely catching myself before I fell to my knees. The violins squawked, the flutes stumbled, and soon the whole ballroom had tuned into the sound. Witches looked wildly about the room, trying to discover its source.

Then the windows shattered in a fine spray of glass.

I wasn’t sure what was louder: the screams of the witches in the ballroom or the shrieks of the bats that swarmed in. Glass rained down in a glittering shower. The doors to the ballroom slammed shut, sealing us inside an opulent tomb. I ducked underneath a table to hide from the glass and froze, my eyes staring at the shards on the ground in horror.

No shoes!

The bats continued to stream into the room, their long wings fluttering just above our heads. One of them whipped down and scratched me on the cheek with the tip of his wing, drawing a thin line of blood. Another bat grabbed a witch by the hair and pulled on it until she screamed. Nearly paralyzed with fear, the witches in the room ducked, throwing their arms over their heads to protect them from the awful lashings of the heavy wings.

Focus. Focus,
I told myself, taking in a deep breath.
Find Miss Mabel. The sooner you kill her, the sooner this madness will end.

My eyes frantically studied the floor, locating a few spots bare of glass shards. I pushed through the crowd again, elbowing people to the side when needed to, and hopped from spot to spot, back toward the middle of the room, the bats flapping above me.

I spilled into the center, where every couple had curled down on the dance floor for protection. Merrick’s eyes met mine from across the room, his sword glowing a dark purple hue in his hands.

Viveet!

My heart took courage at the thought of her. I hauled my skirt up, grabbed the sword from her strap against my thigh, and yanked her free just as the bats settled in the rafters. She glowed in my hand, making me feel stronger. A witch curled into a ball at my feet tried to coax me down with them, but I waved her off. Several witches near the doors banged on the wood, attempting incantations to no avail, desperate to get out. Council Member Patrice let out a half-hiccup, half-cry from near the dessert table. Otherwise, the room was silent.

Come on, Miss Mabel. I’m not afraid of you.

The High Priestess, now protected by my father and a small army of Protectors, stood at the top of the room, looking both furious and terrifying.

“Leave!” she commanded the guests. “All of you!”

At the High Priestess’s words, the sound of turning locks reverberated through the near-silent room.

“Not until I say so.”

The alluring, silky voice that haunted my nightmares rang over the crowd, sending chills down my spine. My headache that once hurt now exploded. I fell to my knees with a groan. My gut ached; my heart recoiled.

Miss Mabel is here.

You Underestimate Me

T
he crunch of Miss Mabel’s shoes clicked toward me, breaking glass with every step. A black silk dress, dark as the night, billowed out behind her. Her blonde hair hung free. Diamonds in their glittering brilliance hung around her neck and dripped off her ears. The tattered
Book of Contracts
lay in her left arm, held tight to her side.

No,
I thought, digging into the power in my chest.
You will never bow to Miss Mabel.

I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the pain that rocketed from my head to my neck and back in sharp streaks. Her chilling sapphire eyes provoked the furious dragon in my heart to a roar. I let him rage, feeling it out, using my wrath for Miss Mabel to build my own strength.

“Merry meet, Mildred,” Miss Mabel called, her sensuous lips pulled into a grin. She stopped just in front of me, giving me full view of her perfect profile.

“What exactly are you trying to do here, Mabel?” the High Priestess called. “Dictate the terms of your death?”

“I’m doing well,” Miss Mabel sang. “Thank you for asking.”

“You have business with me and no one else. Let’s settle this in private.”

“Oh, let’s not.”

“You took long enough to arrive, now I get to dictate the terms. We go to my office.”

“Or what?” Miss Mabel asked, her eyebrow lifted in challenge. “You’re going to release your Protectors on me? Do it. I dare you. My little sweethearts will rain from the sky and teach your innocent followers just how serious I am.” Miss Mabel’s sweet, malevolent grin spread.

“If you won’t settle our matter in private, you have three seconds left until I kill you on the spot,” Mildred said in a calm voice.

“I’m in charge here,” Miss Mabel cried with a bright blaze of her eyes. “I came to accept your resignation.”

“You came to accept your own death.”

“Is that a no?”

“This is a no,” the High Priestess said. The massive chandelier where the bats waited, hanging upside down like ghosts from the underworld, burst into white-hot flames. The ghastly animals took off, screeching. Some of them fell to the floor in fiery plumes, dead. Miss Mabel didn’t turn around to look at them, but her eyes had visibly hardened.

“I wish you hadn’t done that, Mildred. Now we can’t bargain at all, can we?”

The bats swooping around the room morphed into flowing ebony wraiths with charcoal black plumes following them until they settled into an almost-human form.

“Clavas," I whispered in shock, recalling the vile painting in the hallway where Mrs. L had caught me.

Clavas transform into humans from their bat-like form. Very powerful fighters. It’s Almorran magic.

Almorran, of course. Miss Mabel’s signature style. My mind sped back to the Almorran
Book of Spells
with a flash of fear. Had she found it already? Was Antebellum doomed to her wrath? I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Once the Clavas touched the floor, they began an immediate assault.

“Away from the windows!” Merrick jumped on top of the dessert table and bellowed. “Move away!”

Streams of Guardians burst into the ballroom from the already broken windows, swords at the ready. The crowd of witches surged forward, desperate for freedom. A forest dragon bellowed from the outside, followed by a plume of fire and smoke from the southern windows.

Viveet leapt in flame as a half-transformed Clava landed near me. I slashed his outstretched hand. Black blood poured out of his severed limb in globs. He shrieked and morphed back into a bat, flying away on an injured wing. I rushed forward, intent on Miss Mabel, but she disappeared, fading into the hiss and clash of metal on metal.

“No!” I yelled. “Where are you? Your fight is with me!”

Another Clava landed in front of me, a leering grin on his half-transformed face. He held a black sword in his hand, sharp, but covered in rust and what looked like black tar.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I muttered with a surge of power, falling instantly into the fight when he advanced on me. After dodging his half sword, realizing it seemed almost like a club, I stabbed him in the thigh, yanked the blade free, and then pushed Viveet into his stomach. He staggered back with a groan, falling away from my sword. His black blood sizzled on Viveet’s burning metal.

A flash of hazel eyes caught my attention.

“Bianca!” Camille screamed, reaching for me with one arm. A streak of bright red blood dripped from her elbow, staining her beautiful ivory gown. A Clava nearby had her dress in his long claw and was pulling her toward him. “Bianca, help!”

I dodged through a tangle of witches and slammed my shoulder into the Clava, knocking him over. Viveet cut through his leathery black flesh, removing one of his arms and biting into his neck. He screamed as I pushed off the ground and cut his head off with a quick swing. Shards of glass stuck to the bottom of my feet, but I only briefly registered the pain. Brecken stood just in front of Camille, locked in combat with two of the black wraiths.

“Are you okay, Camille?”

“I-I’m fine, I think. Are we going to die?” she asked, her eyes wide with terror. “We’re locked in!”

“No!” I yelled. Viveet flared, her flames licking high into the air. “You won’t die! Come on,” I said taking her trembling hand. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

“Where?” she wailed. “Nowhere is safe!”

Frantic, I looked around. The Clavas concentrated most of their efforts on the Guardians and Council Members. A few of the hideous beasts plucked escaping witches off the walls, tossing them back into the crowd like rag dolls. My eyes fell on the edges of the ballroom, where several heavy couches sat against the wall.

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