Read Antebellum Awakening Online
Authors: Katie Cross
Tags: #Nightmare, #Magic, #Witchcraft, #Young Adult
“There,” I said, nodding with my head. “We’ll get you to hide behind those until you can get outside.”
“What about Brecken?”
A Guardian from the windows fought his way next to Brecken, who cut the leg from one Clava as his friend decapitated the other.
“He’ll be fine,” I said.
“Where’s Leda?” she cried, stopping me. “We can’t go without her.”
“I’ll find her!”
Hands locked, we plunged into the fray. I staved off a few stray swords and spears with Viveet. My bare feet seemed to find every stray piece of glass still littering the floor, but even that pain wasn’t as great as the dull thud of my headache. I gritted my teeth and pushed through both.
“Bianca!” Camille gasped. “Your feet!”
“It’s fine,” I said, refusing to look at the bloody footprints. A witch nearby let out a hollow cry. I whirled around to see him fall on his face, blood pooling out in a balloon behind him. Camille froze, her eyes riveted on his dead body.
“GO!” I yelled, shoving her behind the couch. I pushed it as far against the wall as it would go, then stuffed her inside and put the pillows on top of her head. “I’ll go find Leda.”
Leda found me. I whirled around and she was there.
“Bianca!” she cried in relief, grabbing my arms. “There’s—”
“No time!” I said, pushing her down. A bat came winging right at us, teeth bared in razor sharp fangs, aimed right at my face. I sliced it in half with Viveet and the two pieces crashed to the ground with a squish. Blood stained Leda’s pale dress. She stared at it in shock.
“You’ve got to hide!” I said. Camille let out a cry of relief and reached for Leda.
“Stay here,” I told them both.
“Wait!” Leda said. “I need your dagger!”
I stopped, grabbed the small dagger from my ankle that Merrick had given me, and handed it to her hilt first. Already hunched over, I pulled three shards of glass out of the bottom of my feet, feeling instant relief once they came out. Blood flowed over my fingers, making them sticky.
“Use the dagger if you need to,” I told Leda, who stared at my hands, looking paler than ever. “Don’t move until I come back!”
“Bianca!”
Leda’s cry died behind me as I left, only one thought on my mind: I had to find Miss Mabel. This would continue until she died.
This was between her and I.
My eyes glanced up at the clock. 11:38.
Sixteen minutes left.
I tuned back into the fray as I pushed my way through. Guardians still streamed into the room from two windows. The dragons roared with fire outside. Witches in their lavish gowns and elegant suits tried crawling out the glass-strewn windows, assisted by a small contingent of Guardians. A few witches lay gasping in their death throes on the floor. One man had a fit of spasms and jerked, a foaming bite mark on his face.
“Bloody madness,” I whispered to no one.
Guardians and Protectors battled with the wraiths, which all wore the same impassioned, cold expression and attacked without rule or regard. Unable to break through the pockets of fighting to get near the top of the room, I shoved a cake off one of the dessert tables and jumped up onto its spot.
In the midst of the fighting, the High Priestess and Miss Mabel now faced off, oblivious to the pandemonium. They twirled, walking in a slow circle around each other. My throat nearly choked. A Mactos. The High Priestess was in a Mactos with Miss Mabel.
Blighters zipped back and forth between them, mere blurs of color. I’d never seen so many moving so fast in my life. It made my pathetic attempt at fighting Miss Mabel last winter look like a child’s game. The streaks of light from the blighters came to a sudden stop, evaporating into little clouds of color. Miss Mabel and the High Priestess stood across from each other. The High Priestess spoke, her shoulders tilted back and head high. Whatever she said I couldn’t make out. Miss Mabel lifted one eyebrow with a coy smile.
Panic, pure and hot, ripped through me.
What are they talking about?
Viveet glowed a vibrant blue-white. I could feel her heat resonate in my hand, nearly searing my palm. Then the High Priestess and Miss Mabel both looked right at me. The High Priestess met my gaze with a calm, expectant air. She nodded.
A shot of chilly realization made my knees weak and my dragon rage. Suddenly I understood.
Mabel knows me too well. She’s studied me enough to understand how I think and what I will do.
“No!” I screamed. “No!”
The High Priestess turned to Miss Mabel and nodded again. Miss Mabel grinned and closed her eyes. Her lips moved. Something inside me broke, like a great rending inside my soul. I gasped, fumbling to stay on my feet. A heaviness rushed through my chest, my arms, my legs, and disappeared out my toes, removing a burden from my soul. Without it, I felt light and free. It could only be one thing.
Miss Mabel had just removed the Inheritance Curse.
“No! NO!” I screamed.
I leapt off the table, throwing myself on the back of a Clava and knocking him over. The Guardian below him shoved a sword through his spine and the wraith went limp. I jumped off without another thought.
It took me too long to bounce my way through the mess, to hack at the bats that swooped down to attack me. The closer I moved to Miss Mabel, the worse it became. Two Guardians moved aside as I barreled through.
“Move it!” I yelled. “Move!”
I spilled into the Mactos circle.
“Ah, yes, Bianca. Just in time. Mildred is just about to fulfill her end of our bargain.” Miss Mabel purred, smiling at me. The High Priestess stood tall, her chin tilted back, shoulders squared.
“Don’t do it!” I yelled in desperation. “Please!”
A flash of light slammed into the High Priestess’s chest with a bright spray. She stumbled and fell to her knees. I heard my scream before I knew it was there. It reverberated through my pounding head. Was this a dream? A terrible dream.
“Your Highness!”
The High Priestess crumbled to the ground. I skidded to a stop at her side, sliding on my bloody feet. But I was too late. The High Priestess’s blank eyes stared out, lifeless.
Not again. Not again. I won’t do this again!
I pressed my hand to her heart. She didn’t stir, didn’t move. She’d fulfilled her part of the vow with her own life. The High Priestess had died for me. A rush of power and rage boiled through my blood. I embraced the bitter pain, the horrible agony of watching another loved one die.
“Why?” I cried. “Why?”
“Oh, Bianca,” Miss Mabel drawled. “Do get up already. You’re pathetic, you know that?”
With all my might I released the magic expanding in my chest and threw Viveet at Miss Mabel, aiming for her face. Viveet whipped through the air like a flaming dart, the blue-white flames dancing high. Miss Mabel ducked at the last second and Viveet soared past, biting into the High Priestess’s throne. Her luster faded; the flame died.
Miss Mabel’s wild eyes danced with delight.
“Oh darling girl,” she crooned. “I had no idea you’d be so happy to see me tonight. Are you ready to fulfill your part of the bargain? Or will I have to do that for you?”
The pain in my head magnified again. I fell to my knees with a cry, my eyes shut.
“Never,” I snarled. I tried to stand but fell back to my knees, unable to bear it. The fury and agony came, as I knew it would. I was glad for it, embraced it, because I’d never be strong enough to fight her without the pain. Magic, pure and uncontrolled, soared through me.
“Never? Oh, very well,” Miss Mabel said, clicking her tongue. “That’s too bad. You could have been great. You’re so bloody determined, even to the point of your own death. I’ll have to kill your father myself.”
Her eyes flickered past me. I didn’t have to look. I knew she saw Papa.
“No,” I called with a strength I didn’t know I had. “Your fight is with me.”
The world went silent.
Viveet flew back to my hand as I sent a wall of glass zipping around us in a flurry of light, traveling all the way to the ceiling, surrounding us in an impenetrable circle, sealing off everything outside. The hysteria and chaos continued, but we heard none of it.
Miss Mabel studied me with a curious gaze.
“Very interesting, Bianca. But I must ask, why? I’ve already fought you and won. Everything you love is in the palm of my hand.”
“Not everything,” I said, looking at the clock, barely able to make out the hands. The pulsing in my head was so great I could barely concentrate. 8 minutes. “Not yet.”
Her lips curled into that infuriating, slow smile.
Yes,
I thought.
Fight me. You underestimate me.
“It will be a pleasure to kill you, Bianca. Although I doubt anything will feel as good as killing Mildred.”
My shield appeared at my side, obeying the surges of magic that my instincts commanded. Miss Mabel sent a volley of white blighters in a fast arc through the air. The last time Miss Mabel shot a white blighter at me, it broke my hand. Now she sent a small army of them, none of which would stop until they slammed into me like a cloud of death.
I braced myself with my shield, shuffling through several incantations in my mind. Moments before they would have hit, the white blighters cracked in midair, separating into harmless pieces that bounced against my shield like little shards of ice. The percussion of it shook me, sending my headache into another painful spiral. I looked down to see Miss Scarlett’s bracelet glowing on top of my circlus.
Miss Mabel lifted an eyebrow with a flash of her eyes.
“Very interesting,” she murmured. “Scarlett’s been helping you out, hasn’t she? I recognize that charm. It has an exceptional power to repel blighters and curses.”
“Looks like the disadvantage is yours,” I said, and shifted into a defensive position. The movement sent me into a dizzy stumble and I had to right myself. “Are you up for a real fight?”
“I would be, but you aren’t.”
My vision blurred and my stomach revolted as the headache took an unbearable turn. I leaned to the side and dry heaved, falling to my knees. My loyal, faithful shield tumbled for a second and popped back up.
“Do you understand what’s happening?” she asked. I opened my mouth to curse her, but couldn’t keep a thought that long. My brain felt swollen inside. I could barely comprehend what she said and had to focus on one word at a time. “This is the power of the binding, Bianca darling. You see, you had a long time to complete the task, but you didn’t. And now, well, you’ll die.”
I looked up to find Papa outside the wall, throwing his fists into the glass, his face contorted in a livid yell. Merrick wasn’t far away, banging the bottom of his shield into it. No matter what they did, the wall never weakened. I willed it to be stronger.
No Papa,
I wanted to say.
It has to happen like this.
The magic flickered inside, drawing strength from my pain. This is how I’d die.
For Papa.
“You’ll have a few more minutes of miserable coherency left before you black out. You’ll die in a coma the very minute you turn seventeen. If I don’t cut off your head first, of course. Which I will,” she promised in a melodic taunt. “With your own pretty sword.”
She stood over me. At least, I thought she did. My vision failed, throwing me into darkness. Blood, warm and thick, dripped from my nose. I heard it drop onto the cold tile floor.
“Actually, no,” she continued in a thoughtful tone. “I don’t think I will kill you. I’ll let you suffer, destroy yourself in your last moments while dear Papa watches. Oh, Bianca. It’s more delicious than I planned!”
My thoughts began to scatter, becoming ragged and disjointed. Leda teaching Camille. Michelle with flour on her face. Papa laughing. The High Priestess. Were these memories? Was I imagining them? The gray eyes. Who had the gray eyes?
Minutes must have passed, filled with only fragments and images. Green leaves and a high canopy. The blue flash of a sword. A pair of knobby old hands. Miss Mabel’s voice existed somewhere in the background, the music to my last moments.
This is it,
I realized.
Miss Mabel wins again.
The blackness overwhelmed my chest, encompassing it in a blanket of night. The pounding of my heart made a staccato against my ribs. When I was ready to give myself over to the edge, to escape the misery of mortality, I felt another rending inside. It rippled through my body with physical pain, like my muscles had been torn apart. The headache ceased immediately, my vision cleared. A pressure I didn’t know was on my chest released, setting me free.
“What’s this?” Miss Mabel hissed.
With a gasp I lifted my head to see Leda standing just outside the wall, the
Book of Contracts
in her arms. A torn page of paper burned in her right hand. The flames danced toward the ceiling, highlighting the triumphant smirk on her face.
“Leda,” I breathed in a rush of exhilaration and fear. She’d saved me. Leda had found and destroyed the binding. Miss Mabel’s eyes constricted, turning a dark, furious color.