Antebellum Awakening (19 page)

“The High Priestess doesn’t want us ta know, but the fighting has already begun! The Guardians are in the Borderlands as I stand in front of ya, facing the West Guards.”

A low murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd. My stomach churned.

“He’s lying,” I whispered to Camille. “The fighting hasn’t begun yet.”

Camille looked at me with a worried expression. “Are the West Guards in the Borderlands?”

“No . . . and yes,” I said, thinking back to my conversation with Papa. For good measure, I tacked on, “They aren’t in the Borderlands, they’re just along it on the other side of the border.”

“No one’s going to care whether they are fighting or not,” Michelle said, glancing around. “The fact that they are so close is bad enough. Let’s get out of here. I have a bad feeling.”

“Wait,” I said, pulling away from Camille. The restless crowd surged around us, nearly knocking me down. “I want to hear what he says.”

“Tiberius!” A voice shouted from the crowd. "Tiberius leads the Guardians! He’s never lied ta us!”

A chorus of applause and cheers followed the response.

“Yes,” Clive agreed with a charming smile. “Tiberius has been good ta us. Is it too much ta ask that we trust our Head of Protectors just as much as we trust the Head of Guardians?”

“No!” the crowd roared.

“Bianca,” Camille said more firmly, grabbing my arm. “Let’s leave. I don’t think we should stay. What if someone recognizes you?”

“What about Derek?” Clive demanded when the shouts died. A chorus of hissing sounds filled the air. Their collective menacing took on a new personality, filling the air with something vile and horrible. Two men near me snarled.

“Liar!” they shouted. “He lied ta us! He broke our tradition!”

“We can never get that back can we?” Clive bellowed, whirling around to face all sides of the audience. “He broke the tradition set by Esmelda. He’s not to be trusted!”

“Wait,” I said, breathless, knowing I should listen to Camille but unable to leave. “They’re talking about my father.”

“I know,” Camille said, distressed. “That’s why we need to go.”

Michelle locked eyes with me.

“She’s right, Bianca. It’s not safe.”

“The West is coming!” Clive yelled. “They are almost here, knocking on our borders. We need protection! We need a Head of Protectors that will take his job seriously. I’m just like the rest of ya! I’ve got a family ta take care of.”

Another round of furious grunts echoed through the crowd. Every shout and mistruth they called out expanded the roiling anger inside me. The magic grew more and more unstable. Above the crowd bobbed a thick scroll and quill, moving from hand to hand to gather signatures.

“And now he’s keeping his daughter at the castle!” Clive cried from the box. “He’s insulting us as a people! He breaks the rules, and then shoves it down our throats!”

“The High Priestess is letting him!” someone shouted.

“Exile them!” a woman only a few paces away called. “Send Derek and his daughter ta the North.”

Cackling pockets of hostility erupted behind me.

“Bianca, come on,” Camille insisted, true fear in her eyes now. “Come on!”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing. “Let’s go.”

Relieved, Camille and Michelle turned to go. Someone stumbled into me from behind, drunk with brewed ipsum, and sent me flying into the crowd. My friends faded into the teeming mass of brown and black cloaks. Witches shoved me back and forth, yelling and laughing at the sport, until someone had pity and set me on my feet.

“There ya go,” he said, the smell of ipsum rolling off him. “What’s a pretty young witch like you doin—”

He stopped when I looked up at him, blinking in surprise. His eyes narrowed, then grew wide.

“The good gods,” he muttered under his breath and tightened his grip on my arm. “You’re Derek’s daughter.”

“Let me go,” I said, frantic. “Let me go!”

“Well,” he breathed with a lurid grin, his bloodshot eyes looking me over. “Let’s have a bit of fun. Look who I have here!” he cried, waving his arm. “Look what good ol’ Joe has found!”

“Let me go!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” he said. “She’s here! Coven Leader Clive!”

Desperate, I slapped him across the face with a crack that echoed through the air. He stood there for a second, stunned, while I jerked my arm from his grasp. His bloodshot eyes bulged.

“Cheeky little girl,” he muttered, grabbing the back of my neck so tight it hurt.

“Let me go!”

“I’m not overly fond of bratty vixens like ya. Makes ol’ Joe kinda angry.”

Angry?
I thought.
You’ll never be as angry as me.

“Leave me alone!” I gasped again, the force of my powers overwhelming me. My fingertips tingled. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“What, is your Papa going ta hurt me? She’s here!” he yelled, hollering like a pig. “Bianca Monroe!”

The witches nearest us whirled around, at first annoyed at the commotion. But as soon as they saw me their eyes popped open and they joined the battle cry. Another pair of arms grabbed me. I stomped my heel into the toes of my new assailant. He yelped, but didn’t let go.

“Bianca is here!”

“Derek’s daughter!”

Clive stopped speaking and gazed toward us, seeking out the source of the unrest. The drunk man grabbed my arm and shoved me into the crowd. Someone else grabbed my arm. They pushed me deeper into the queue, toward Clive, who sneered from high on his perch. The crowd began a low chant as the warm slime of someone’s spit slid down my right cheek. I wouldn’t be able to fight the magic much longer. It would take over, creating something dangerous, perhaps harming everyone around me. Maybe even myself.

“Get the girl! Get the girl!”

“Take her over there!”

“Let’s hear from her, eh?” a witch reeking of ipsum shouted, stumbling over his own feet. “Maybe she can tell us secrets about her scoundrel father. She looks like a real tart, doesn’t she? Just like her pretty mama must have been!”

His words echoed in the red, bitter chambers of my heart. Time slowed. I calmed. The dragon in my chest bellowed with heat and fire and pain.

Just like her pretty mama must have been.

I lost the battle and the magic ran free.

In that moment everything went oddly quiet. The screams of the apoplectic crowd became a dull roar in my ears. In between all the capes, waving arms, and jeering faces I made out a snippet of bright blue sky.
This is it. The magic won.

I processed what happened next in snatches of time, completely unable to control the outcome.

A stranger reached for my neck. I threw out with a hand to stop him and something flashed.
Darkness.
His body lay on the ground.
Darkness.
A sea of astonished faces stared at me, gaping and terrified.
Darkness.
Several pairs of hands trying to pull me to the ground. My legs kicked.
Darkness.
A white explosion.
Darkness.
Witches on the ground around me. Pulsing pain in my head. Blood on my hands.
Darkness.

Then Merrick’s calm, steady face appeared. He grabbed my arm and pulled me from the ground. A shock ran through my body, breaking the trance.

“Come on,” he said in a low voice. “I’m here to take you back.”

He helped me stand up, untangling me from the ten or more witches lying on the ground around me. Screams filled the streets. Eyes, hundreds of eyes, looked at me.

“Follow me,” Merrick said, grabbing my arm. He kept his intense green eyes on the crowd. I could feel how tense his muscles had become, waiting for someone to spring out at us. Several witches stepped out of his way. No one tried to stop us as we wound through back alleys, headed for Letum Wood.

The next thing I registered was trees. A green canopy. Moss. We ran through Letum Wood, the trees flashing by us, chests heaving. My legs moved so fast my heart couldn’t keep up as we darted through the forest, outrunning a monster.

Faster. Faster.

I stumbled, already knowing the monster was me.

Darkness.

Silence

“S
he’s waking up, Mildred.”

The voice swam through my head. It took me two tries to grasp what it meant. Mildred? Once I started slowly surfacing, like coming up from deep water, the words started to make sense.

“She better do it soon!” the High Priestess snapped. “Or I’ll give her a reason to wake up. Foolish girl.”

My eyes fluttered open. I lay on an uncomfortable divan in a room I didn’t recognize. The white walls were trimmed at the top with golden leaves. Papa’s silhouette stood near a floor-length window, his hands folded behind his back.

“Bianca?”

The High Priestess’s sharp voice hit me like a slap. A mighty headache split my brain, walloping the sides of my head like a giant with a club. I groaned.

“Derek, I think she’s waking up,” Stella’s quiet voice said from right next to me.

“Are you ready to grace us with your presence yet?” the High Priestess asked in a haughty tone. “I’m done waiting. We have a mess to clean up. I don’t have time for this.”

I closed my eyes against the daylight and shrunk into the divan, wanting to disappear. My memory returned in an instant.
Crowd. Merrick. Darkness. Bad.

“No,” I said.

“Too bad,” she snapped. “Get up.”

“I have something here for you, Bianca,” Stella murmured. She rubbed it on my temples, filling my nose with the cool smell of peppermint. “Sit up slowly,” she instructed.

The High Priestess paced back and forth, her maroon dress rustling as she prowled like a caged animal. Stella put a hand on my shoulder and helped me sit up. The world swam. I closed my eyes and leaned into my hands.

“Are you okay, Bianca?” Papa asked. He crouched in front of me now, a mixture of concern and hesitation on his face.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Nice little display,” the High Priestess said. “Whether or not you realize the scope of the campaign Clive has been launching against your father, I’m here to tell you that you’ve just made it much, much worse. Your show in Chatham City today earned Clive all the signatures he needs to bring it before the Council. 10,000 in one day! It’s absolutely unheard of.”

“What did I do?” I asked, a knot forming in my throat.

“You defended yourself as you should have,” Papa said, casting a warning glance at the High Priestess. “But in doing so you injured ten witches. No one died, but they won’t recover quickly. It’s what they deserve for dragging you into the crowd that way.”

His voice was hard, without remorse or compassion. Perhaps I had done what I should have to protect myself, but the number of injured witches seemed enormous. Had my powers grown so much? I forced the thoughts to slow.

“Besides,” Papa said, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder and straightening. “Most of them were drunk, and over half that crowd was part of the Factios.”

“Factios?” I asked with a grimace. He squeezed my shoulder.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Mildred,” Stella said in a low tone. “Take a deep breath. I’m sure Bianca has an explanation.”

The High Priestess shot her an acid glare but did as she asked. When she spoke again her voice had calmed.

“Merrick, Brecken, Camille, and Michelle have already told me what they saw and heard. I want to hear your version of it before we go down to my office. Begin.”

With a stiff voice I recounted the events, starting from the moment we heard the rally, including everything that was said, and how the power had taken over. I ended with the last few snatches that I remembered, including running through Letum Wood with Merrick. Stella rubbed a hand over my back, whispering a blessing under her breath. The headache began to retreat, eventually fading into a nag that disappeared completely.

“Thank you,” I whispered, sending my gaze her way for just a second. She squeezed my shoulder with a warm smile.

“Is that all?” the High Priestess asked.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Clive is waiting for us in my office to discuss the matter.” She set her hawk-like eyes on me. “You will not say a single word. Not. One. Word. Do you understand? It’s going to take some careful negotiations on my part to get you out of this with all your limbs. Chatham City is foaming at the mouth.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” I whispered again.

“Follow me.”

I stood up, Stella and Papa next to me. He hugged me to his side, and I leaned into him. The High Priestess turned around and held her finger to my face.

“I don’t trust your powers or your mouth, Bianca. For obvious reasons. I’m putting you under a silencing incantation.”

A fading tingle wrapped around my throat. When I tried to speak, nothing came out. I nodded, mute. Satisfied, she circled back around and started to walk, muttering under her breath.