Antebellum Awakening (21 page)

“Thank you,” I said, meeting her gaze. “I don’t really know what happened, but I don’t think I would have gotten out of there alive without Merrick.”

She moved over and sat next to me on the pillows, a sure sign that she had been worried.

“All I saw was a bright white light,” Camille said, joining us. Michelle came next. The three of them surrounded me. The Witchery walls closing in around us settled the rankled fear in my heart.
Safe.
My muscles began to relax, and I felt exhausted. “A lot of people started screaming, some started to run. Then Brecken showed up. He pulled Michelle and I away. Merrick slipped past him into the crowd to find you.”

“The last thing we saw was Merrick pulling you from the ground and the two of you running away. Brecken walked us back to the castle,” Michelle said.

“I don’t remember half of it,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’m glad that the two of you made it out okay.”

“What did the High Priestess say?” Leda asked.

I recounted everything. When I finished, Camille’s look of disgust reflected my feelings.

“Clive is a horrid man!” she cried.

Michelle’s upper lip curled a little. “At least you didn’t get work hours with Mrs. L,” she said in a quiet voice. “At that point I think you’d want to renegotiate for exile.”

The four of us looked at each other, then broke into smiles. The knot in my chest released just enough that I could breathe freely for the first time that day. When Camille and Leda’s conversation dwindled into algebra lessons and simple potion making, I closed my eyes, leaned back against the pillows, and let their words and voices lull me into a safe place again.

Not Entirely Mad

“P
apa, where’s Merrick?”

I stood outside Papa’s office in the quiet Gatehouse that night. He looked up from his scattered, messy desk. Candles bobbed in the air around him, shedding light on books and paperwork. Outside the sun sank into the horizon, fading behind the shadows of Letum Wood.

“I haven’t seen him,” he said, his eyes looking bloodshot and fatigued. “Not since he spoke with the High Priestess a few hours ago.”

My teeth bit into my bottom lip. That conversation was the reason I wanted to find him. “Did he get in trouble because my powers aren’t under control yet?” I asked, fearing the worst.

Papa hesitated and slowly shook his head.

“No.”

The reserved tone in his voice told me all I needed to know. Merrick’s fate was as tied up in whether I regained control as mine was. It was a terrible burden.

“Any news from the Borderlands?”

The drawn, tired lines returned to his face.

“Yes. The West has successfully started to draw water from the river. The High Priestess is following the directions in the Mansfeld Pact and sending a formal message to them tonight.”

“Is this the first she’s sent?”

He shook his head again.

“No. They’ve ignored all the others.”

“If they ignore this one?”

“Then we defend ourselves by whatever means necessary.”

I had so many more questions but kept them to myself. I’d caused him enough stress already.

“Thanks, Papa,” I said and pushed away from the door. Tiberius grunted at me when I passed his sparse office, which was filled by a table large enough to seat all of his Captains of the Guard. He sat in a large seat in the middle, paperwork belched out around him. I wanted to ask him if he knew where Merrick was, but he waved me away.

I returned to the apartment and curled up on top of my silky bedspread, the darkness and still air sending me to sleep.

•••

Merrick was leaning against a broken fountain near the Forgotten Gardens when I found him the next morning, hauling the two buckets of rocks that he still made me carry every time. It never got easier—he kept adding heavier rocks—but my grip strength had increased dramatically. The predictability of a familiar routine comforted my anxious heart.

“Merry meet,” I said quietly, setting down the buckets. His eyes looked nearly blue in the morning light. His jaw was tight and tense.

He straightened. “Ready to train?”

Panic jolted through my heart. “Did the High Priestess get angry with you? Did she blame you for my loss of control? Because it’s not your fault!”

“What she said or didn’t say isn’t important. This isn’t about me. This is about you dealing with your grief.”

I stared at him in disbelief, unsure of what to say.

“You aren’t angry?”

“Why would I be angry?” he asked. Despite the even tone, he was unable to hide the tension in his white knuckles and tight shoulders. The High Priestess had put pressure on him, I was certain of it. “You defended yourself against a dangerous mob.”

“But I lost control. I haven’t . . . I haven’t figured out how to control the power.”

For the first time since he started teaching me, an exasperated tone crept into his voice.

“You don’t figure grief out, Bianca. You go through it. Grief is a mess that you can’t clean up all at once. It takes time and patience, not logic and fact.”

“But my grief is dangerous,” I said, struggling to keep the tears from filling my eyes. Where had this sudden onslaught of emotion come from? Unable to bear his intense gaze, I looked away. Eye contact was little more than a willing vulnerability. “I’m going to hurt someone if I can’t control it.”

“Then stop trying to control it.”

I paused. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath.

“My father died when I was twelve,” he finally said, the muscles of his jaw flexing as he looked out across the Forgotten Gardens to the dark heights of Letum Wood. A few lazy flower petals drifted from the wall behind him, landing on his shoulder.

“Twelve?”

“On my birthday, no less. We were hiking a mountain and a storm came in. I didn’t know how to transport yet so we had to hike back down. The rain moved in so fast we could barely see. When you’re up that high, the hair on your arms stand up before the lightning strikes and the thunder is so loud you can’t even hear yourself think. We started back for home right away, but a flash flood swept through the mountain when we were halfway down. I woke up the next morning, lying on a rock. I couldn’t find my father anywhere. My leg was broken, so I couldn’t move. I sat there on the rock, waiting to be found.”

“How long did you wait?”

He shrugged, the distant quality of his voice receding a little.

“It’s hard to tell. I was in and out of consciousness. I kept waking up to call for my father, trying to let him know where I was. Eventually one of the witches from my village found me. I woke up at home, my leg healing, and my father dead.”

I thought about what he said for several moments, unsure of what to say. It felt best not to say anything.

“I blamed myself,” he said with a shake of his head. “It tore me apart for years. I replayed that day over and over again in my head, wondering what we could have done differently. I thought it was my fault because I didn’t know how to transport. I refused to feel the grief. I worked until I was so tired that my body had no choice but collapse into an exhausted sleep. By the time I turned fifteen, my powers were nearly out of control.”

“What did you finally do?” I asked.

“I got tired of fighting it. I just let it happen.”

“Let what happen? I don’t understand.”

“Eventually you will,” he said. “Until then we’ll continue to focus on our goal of learning swordsmanship.”

“And the goal of controlling the magic?”

He shrugged. “Just let it happen.”

I held my breath. Could it really be that simple?

“Are you sure?”

“Emotions are power,” he said. “The more you fight them, the more they fight back. Take a break today. Think it over. Put the High Priestess and any expectations out of your mind. We’ll start up with training again tomorrow.”

•••

The Gatehouse lights burned bright that evening.

I stared out at their long flames from the darkness of the empty apartment high above. The candles waited to be lit, an untouched dinner sat on the table, notes from my friends remained unopened. No doubt they wondered where I’d been all day. I ignored all of it, wanting to be alone. I couldn’t get Merrick or Miss Mabel out of my head.

Emotions are power.

It’s difficult keeping the power under control, isn’t it?

Just let it happen.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t imagine what Merrick meant when he said
let it happen
, so I stopped thinking about it. My mind slid to Miss Mabel instead, to the binding, to my seventeenth birthday. The thoughts suffocated me. I had to get out of the room. I needed to do something. I drew in a bolstering breath, struck with sudden inspiration.

Tonight.

I knew it was crazy. I knew it was a spontaneous, poorly thought out idea. But I didn’t care anymore. I had no control over any other part of my life, but at least I could take care of this one thing. Before common sense caught up and told me I wasn’t ready to face Miss Mabel or destroy the binding, I quickly prepared.

The thought that perhaps I shouldn’t have isolated myself for so long today snuck into my mind. I felt like I was going mad. Then again, maybe I was. Maybe insanity was just a slow creep away from reality, so subtle the nightmare wasn’t recognizable until the monsters were too strong. I tied back my hair. What did monsters matter when I only had a few months left to live? The High Priestess would come through on her part and end the Inheritance Curse. But I wouldn’t kill the High Priest for Miss Mabel, so I’d die anyway.

I slipped into a pair of breeches I’d filched from the laundry and bound my hair into a braid that fell between my shoulder blades. My powers bubbled under the surface with such violence that I almost stopped myself from going. Then I caught sight of myself in a stray mirror. The flash of my gray eyes reminded me of Mama. I had to go.

For added protection, I strapped a sheath to my forearm and slipped a small dagger into it, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it. The silent halls of Chatham Castle seemed to echo when I walked the long corridors on bare feet. The quiet shadows snuck up the walls like hands trying to grab me, to keep me in the castle.
Reckless fool,
they seemed to whisper.

No going back,
I thought.
Time to free myself.

The shadows shifted. I heard the scuffle of a foot and Leda appeared out of the darkness. She grabbed my arm and shoved me against the wall, the strength of her skinny frame surprising me. The shock of my head slamming into the stone reverberated through my skull.

“Don’t!” she hissed. “Don’t do it.”

“Don’t what?” I muttered, rubbing the offended spot and glaring at her. “Jikes, Leda. Did you have to slam me into the wall?"

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?"

“Whatever you’re doing.”

“Why? What have you seen?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing except that whatever you’ve decided to do involves Miss Mabel.”

My eyes widened. “You can see her?”

“No. Not really, anyway,” she said taking a step away, as if standing too close caused her pain. “That’s just it. I can’t see anything. Nothing but gray and black, just like last year at school. Just like . . . just like the afternoon your mother died.”

“I can’t explain it,” I said. “I have to go.”

“Please, Bianca!”

“No!” I cried and the torches near us popped into bright flame. Her queer eyes stared at me through the flickering shadows, narrowing in question. We watched each other until she took another step back. I wasn’t sure what emotion hid behind her annoyance, but it looked an awful lot like fear.

“I have a bad feeling about tonight,” she said in a tremulous voice. “It’s bothered me all day.”

“I have to do this, Leda. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Unable to bear it, I turned and left her in the hallway behind me, headed for the cover of darkness in the Forgotten Gardens.

•••

A chorus of long, soulful wails welcomed me into the Western Network.

They sent my heart into a wild spin, matching the drums that pounded in the background. Why such loud mourning? Chills skirted my skin.

I’ve had a bad feeling about tonight all day,
Leda’s voice rang out in my head.

Life is full of bad feelings,
I reassured myself.
Let’s just get this over with.

The transportation spell had left me crouched in a long hallway somewhere in the belly of the Arck, folded in red rock and shadows. The floor under my bare feet felt cold and dry. I whispered an invisibility incantation and stepped to the wall to gain my bearings. The hall stretched to my right and left, disappearing in dark twists and turns. A few torches illuminated the area with yellow light. It smelled like cloves and spice.