Larkstorm (23 page)

28

The pain doesn’t go away. It just lessens enough to make me aware of it. My body is on fire. The hair brushing my neck feels like flames licking my skin
again and
again.

There’s a muffled hum rising around me. I try to turn my head to unblock my ears, but I’m paralyzed. Behind my eyelids, colors flash
—
red and orange
—
followed by blackness. I want to open my eyes, to see what’s causing these flashes, but again, I can’t.

Air moves over me. But it’s not a gentle, caressing air. No, it feels like sandpaper being raked over my skin. It rubs me raw.

Someone, or a few someones, carries me. Close to my ear, I hear Eloise’s voice. “Lark, you need to hold still. Stay still just a bit longer. This will be done soon.”

Does she not know I can’t move? What’s happening, I want to ask. I can’t.

The pain releases me slowly. My lungs fill with air and I take two large, gasping breaths. The sensation nearly chokes me. There’s chanting now.

“
Illuminae hvit
,
” they repeat.

My eyes, while heavy, are no longer glued shut. I force them open. All around me, white lights whiz and skip through the air as if choreographed.

One floats near me and I reach for it. Without warning, the ball of energy turns and hits me directly in the chest. My insides are ablaze. I scream, but nothing comes out. My body convulses, unable to control itself.

“Stop!”

The command comes not from me but from Bethina. I can see her near my feet, watching me. Her face contorts in pain.

“That’s enough. Lark has had enough. We do not practice magic that harms.”

An angry voice
—
Mrs. Channing
—
“Bethina, surely you’re joking. Lark just tried to kill all of us. You saw it.”

“I saw no such thing, Margo.” Bethina cool hand rubs my leg. “What I did see is you push this fragile girl past what she could handle. What I saw was you acting irrationally and causing a much larger problem.”

A deep voice, Henry’s, joins in. “Margo, Lark doesn’t want this. She wants to learn to control herself, but if you keep having these encasings put on her, how will she?”

“That is just your theory, Henry. We don’t know if it’s true or not.” Mrs. Channing sounds irritated. “Have you forgotten whose daughter this is?”

“What proof do you need?” Henry booms. “She can’t perform any sort of magic when you have her heart locked up so tight it can barely beat. How will she learn to control it if you don’t give her the chance?”

Another voice invades my prison, Patrick Channing’s. “I think I’ve seen enough of her darkness to know I don’t want it anywhere around me or my family.”

I try to lift my head to say I don’t want this either. I don’t want to be Dark. I just want a chance to live the life I thought I was going to have. A life with Beck. That’s all I want, I try to say. But still no words.

Bethina cradles me in her lap. “Shhh, Lark. I know you can hear. I know you want to say something, but you can’t. Soon, just wait a minute.”

From my core, the familiar calming warmth radiates to my limbs. It’s the same sort of peace I feel when I’m with Beck. He must be nearby.

Bethina addresses the group
.
“This is what we’re going to do. We will give Lark a few more days of trying to learn like this. If that doesn’t work, we’ll remove the encasing.”

“Bethina, that’s unwise.” The edge in Mrs. Channing
’s
voice could cut steel. “You can’t just let her walk around here like that. Besides, this encasing isn’t going to be as easy to break as the last one. I made sure of that.” She glares at Henry. “There will be no mistakes this time.” She storms off, followed by her husband.

Henry kneels beside me. “Can you hear me?”

I move my head.

“Good. Can you talk?”

I swallow hard, the saliva moistening my tongue. “Yes.”

“All right. I’m going to help you stand up. Bethina?”

Two pairs of arms lift me and I press my full weight on them. The field spins and I stumble forward, but Bethina and Henry steady me.

“How much of that did you hear?” Bethina’s voice is barely audible above the drone of crickets.

I give a dry cough. “I remember hearing you say ‘stop’.”

“So you know you were encased again,” Henry says.

“Yes. I heard that. But why? Why didn’t the first one work?”

Henry shifts under my weight. “I cracked it when we were on the path. When I took your hands, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” The locking sensation
—
that’s what it was. Henry unlocked the encasing so I could confess my love for Beck.

Bethina tugs on my arm. “Lark, the Channings and most of the other witches aren’t happy about your outburst. You can’t do anything like this again. Do you understand?”

I choke and clear my throat. “Bethina, you know I don’t want to! But no one has shown me how to
not
do it.” I sound whiny, even to myself. “My classes are useless. I still don’t know how I do anything. Don’t you believe I would stop if I could?” The long answer wears me out. I drag my feet to let Bethina and Henry know I need a break.

Bethina’s voice is soft. “I believe you Lark.” She touches my forehead with her fingers. “I believe you.”

We start walking again. When we reach the porch, Henry swings me up into his arms. Shouting drifts from a far off room. I nudge Bethina with my foot. She confirms what I know: Beck is fighting with his parents. Again.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that. Henry, can you get her upstairs?”

“Of course.”

Bethina walks toward the argument, leaving Henry and I alone. I rest my head against his shoulder. He carries me up the stairs, past the pictures of the Channings
—
the good ones
—
lining the walls.

With his toe, he pushes my bedroom door open. He crosses the room and lays me down on the bed.

“Do you want me to stay? Keep you company until Bethina comes back?”

Even though I enjoy Henry’s company, I want to be alone. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” His fingers touch my forehead. “Good night, Lark. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When he’s gone, I bury my face in my pillow. Loud, choking sobs rattle my body. From outside my window, a bird lets out a mournful warble. It matches my mood perfectly.

Downstairs the arguing grows louder and a door slams. Footsteps on the stairs warn me to pull myself together. But there’s no hiding my red eyes or tear-streaked face.

Bethina doesn’t bother knocking before slipping into the room.

“Oh,” she says. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

I shake my head, afraid tears will spill if I talk. The bird lets out another pitiful chirp and falls silent.

She walks to the chair nearest the window and sits down. I lean back into my pillows and pull the covers to my chin.

“What happened down there?” I ask.

 
“You need to stay away from Beck.”

Before I can protest, she raises her hand to quiet me. “That’s not my rule, that’s Mr. and Mrs. Channing’s. And as your hosts, you’ve got to respect that.” She purses her lips. “Now if someone could just talk sense to Beck.”

“Good luck with that,” I say. We both laugh, the sound oddly out of place with the current mood.

“Beck is a stubborn one, isn’t he? I always thought he was the easier going of the two of you, but I’m starting to rethink that assessment.”

She looks out the window. “If you can keep yourself pulled together and really try to learn from your teachers, the Channings will let you stay until your birthday.”

“And after?” I already know but have to ask.

“You have to go, Lark. We can’t risk having you near Beck.”

My face crumples, and she changes direction. “I know how you feel about that, but what if I came with you? Helped you find your way?”

It wouldn’t be Beck, but at least I’d have someone who cares about me. “Really? I wouldn’t have to be alone?”

“I’d never leave you alone.” The gentleness of her voice reminds me of the old Bethina
—
the one who tended my bumps and bruises; who always had cookies waiting for me on Friday afternoons; who
cared
for me.

“We’re not at school anymore, B. No one is making you take care of me. And you’re not my parent.” I toss a pillow across the room.

“Maybe not, but I still think you need me.”

In the uncomfortable silence, a thought occurs to me. “Who’s taking care of the rest of the house? You’ve been gone a long time. Are you going to get in trouble?” The last thing I want is Bethina losing her job because of me.

“Oh, I was fired, more or less. Three strikes and you’re out, as they say.”

“Three strikes?” I ask.

“Kyra, Beck, Max, Ryker, and you.” Her lips form a tight smile. “Make that five strikes.”

“Oh,” I say softly. Bethina loved her job. “But what about the other kids? Who’s guiding them toward their bindings?” This was a major part of the last few months of school and also an extremely emotional time for both the students and the housemothers who raised them.
Not having
Bethina there must be difficult.

“Most likely an apprentice.” From the way the corner of her eyes crinkle, I know she’s trying to hide her hurt.

“Well, since you and I both have nowhere to go, let’s go there together.” My joke falls flat.

“We’ll have to leave the day before your birthday, if you can make it that long.” Bethina folds her arms authoritatively. It’s her “You better or else” look.

From outside, the bird lets out another series of mournful chirps. Bethina moves closer to the window to observe it. “Strange, if I didn’t know better, I’d think that little bird was trying to talk to us.” She shakes her head. “Well, good night, Lark. No class for you tonight. Just try to get some rest and remember, tomorrow is a new day. A fresh start. Make the most of it, Lark Greene.” She taps my forehead and leaves me alone.

I roll over and hug the covers tight around me. An endless flood of tears roll down my cheeks as I bury my face deep into my pillow and scream.

29

“Lark, wake up.”

 
A hand softly pushes my hair back from my sleeping face.

Beck.

My eyes try to open, but they’re swollen shut from the tears. I rub hard, trying to unglue them. “What’s wrong?”

He sits on the edge of my bed. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say and move over toward the edge, giving him room to lie down next to me, but instead he stands up.

“Feel like going for a walk?”

That’s the last thing I feel like doing. The new encasing, combined with my sob-fest, has given me a massive headache. I roll onto my back and pull the covers over my head. “Not really. I have a headache.”

“Here.” He pulls back the sheet and touches my forehead with his fingertips. The pain subsides. “Is that better?”

“Where’d you learn that trick?”

He grins. “While you’re out running around with Eloise, playing with rainbows, I’m learning
useful
stuff.”

“Oh, whatever. Eloise is a great teacher
—
she’s taught me how to attack imaginary people.”

Beck bows. “Miss Greene, I concede.”

“Nutter.” I kick my feet at him playfully and he catches them. For the first time in weeks, it feels like old times. “Fine, I’ll go for a walk with you.”

“Meet me under the weeping willow in ten minutes?”

I nod.

“Bring a heavy sweater.”

When he’s gone, I roll off the bed and onto my knees. I wish I knew what time it was
—
it has to be after midnight. We’re going to be exhausted tomorrow morning. I have a hard enough time in class as it is.

My clothes from earlier lie folded on the chair. Bethina must have picked them up. I put them on, find a cardigan
—
it’s too warm for a heavy sweater
—
and carry my sandals in my hand. No need for extra noise
,
especially on the already squeaky steps.

I tiptoe down the stairs, shifting my weight from side to side and doing my best to not topple over. My toes tap each spot lightly before I place my full weight down. Shift, tap, shift, tap
—
all the way to the bottom.

Between Beck’s clandestine visit to my room and the sneaking out at night, I can’t help but feel like I’m performing a criminal activity. Still, a little flutter of excitement tickles my stomach. We’ve barely had any time together, and even though I know the stakes, I can’t change the fact that I long for him.

The kitchen door is nearest the weeping willow, so I sneak through the dining room and kitchen. Once out the door, I slip on my shoes and run to the tree.

Beck’s already there, leaning against the trunk and looking nervous.

“You might want to put this on.” He takes my sweater from me and holds it open, waiting for me to slip my arms in.

“It’s not cold,” I protest.

“It will be in a minute.”

“Really? Because it feels like a typical humid night to me.”

The moonlight casts an eerie glow across Beck’s face. It saps the normal golden color from his skin, leaving it ashen.

“Take my hand?”

Such a strange thing for Beck to say, so formal. But I place my hand in his, eager to feel his warmth. “Where are we go–”

But before I can finish, I’m hurtling through a black void.

#

The ground is frozen beneath my feet and the icy wind burns my naked legs.

Ice and snow
—
I’m not at Summer Hill anymore.

Where am I? Outside the dome? The snow falls heavily
—
I can’t see the protective bubble of Summer Hill or anything else.

“Beck!”

There’s no answer. Where is he? What happened?

I rotate, trying to place myself, but all I see is blinding white.

“Beck!”

The wind slows and the snow is now nothing more than an occasional flake drifting from the sky. Unlike the last time I found myself out here, the weather is acting in direct opposition to my feelings. I’m not controlling it.

“It’s okay, Lark. He’s safe.”

Henry? I whip around looking for him but he’s nowhere. This makes no sense. What’s Henry doing here?

Something brushes my arm and I jump. “Henry? What’s going on?”

The full moon’s glow reflects off the snow and illuminates everything in an icy blue hue
—
except the gray shadow stepping out from the trees.

My mother.

With each step she takes toward me, I take one backward. I stare at Mother, my eyes unmoving, until something snaps and I turn to run.

“Hello, Lark.”

The fear evaporates. My body is poised midstride, but can’t remember why. Confused, I place my foot softly on the ground and pivot to greet my mother properly.

Though she’s wearing gorgeous open-toe heels, the snowdrifts pose no problem. She glides toward me with such elegance, I wonder if her feet even touch the ground. With one fluid movement, Mother slips out of her long cream coat and wraps it around my shoulders.

“I thought I told you to have her dress appropriately, Henry.”

“I told her to bring a heavy sweater, but she wouldn’t.” Henry appears next to my mother and points at the sandals on my feet. “And shoes. I told you to grab shoes, didn’t I?”

Henry told me? No, Beck did.

“She’s confused.” My mother studies me closely with a worried expression.

“I had to stun her.”

She sighs. “Completely unnecessary. She would never hurt you.”

Mother touches my forehead and the fog lifts, sharpening my mind. Henry impersonated Beck. He brought me to my mother. He betrayed me.

Adrenaline pumps hard through my veins. I need to get out of here before she takes me away. Before she turns me against Beck.

“Ah ah ah,” my mother tsks. “None of that. Unlike the others, I’m still much, much stronger than you
—
all by myself.”

My pulse slows. She’s right
—
where would I go anyway? I have no idea where I am.

Even though I’m wrapped in her heavy coat, my teeth chatter. “Why do you want me?”

“To make sure you’re unharmed. I worry about you, love.” She presses the back of her hand against my cheek. Her voice is high and clear
—
and soothing. So very soothing. “You’re freezing. Let’s get you inside.”

She claps her hands and a thatched roof cottage materializes. The windows glow with warmth and I want so badly to run inside and out of the freezing air.

“It’s such a treat to use magic openly. I can almost see the allure of a place like this.” She smiles wide, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and points toward the shadows. Through the trees, Summer Hill’s dome glows. We’re just feet from the barrier.

“Are there others with you? Besides Henry?”

“Henry’s not with me, but yes, there are others. I can no longer travel without an entourage. Too many dangers.” She waves her hand dismissively. “However, you needn’t worry, and my guard won’t interrupt us. Unless, you would like to visit with Annalise? Or perhaps Kyra? They’re keeping an eye on you, after all.” Mother raises her eyebrow at me and waits for a response.

Kyra’s here? And she watches me with Annalise? From the other side of the dome? That’s inner circle stuff
—
no wonder Annalise and Callum were sent to find me. But Kyra?

I snap my head up at the familiar rustling of a witch materializing.

“Lark!” Kyra’s thin body slams into mine and pulls me into a deep embrace.

Bewildered, I stand still, my mind trying to make sense of the surreal scene around me. Mother, Henry, Kyra
—
the cold. Nothing seems real, but Kyra squeezes me so hard I can barely breathe, so she must be here.

“Kyra?” I gasp. “What are you doing here?”

She extracts the air from my lungs one last time before releasing me and embarking on her typical, lightning-fast, one-way conversation. “I’m working! Are you coming home with us? It’s so boring without you
—
all we do is train and train and train.” She pouts like I’ve seen her do a million times before when she wants her way. “And I’m deso about not having anyone besides Maz and Ryker to hang out with
—
the older people aren’t any fun, you know? Maz really loved spending time with you. Said he likes you so much better now!” She tosses her curls back and beams at me. “Plus, I miss you so, so much.”

The thought of going home, to people who like me, appeals to my inner sense of safety. It would be so easy
—
Mother and Kyra, they could teach me, and I’d be surrounded by people who didn’t fear me. I wouldn’t be encased. I could learn.

But I wouldn’t have Beck. And they’d want me to kill him.

“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer.

Kyra’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You would choose him over us?” She stomps over toward Mother. “Can she do that?”

To my surprise, Mother says nothing. Kyra touches Mother’s arm and screams, “But she can’t! She can’t choose him over us! It’s not right.”

Mother smiles at her, lifts Kyra’s hand and lets it drop. Kyra’s chest heaves in anger.

Seeing Kyra upset physically hurts me. The longest week of my life, other than my current stint at Summer Hill, was when she refused to speak to me for spoiling her birthday surprise for Maz. But now, her anger and confusion feels a hundred times worse. They radiate off her and nip at my surprising calm, threatening to unleash my uncontrollable powers.

But defusing Kyra’s emotional outbursts has been my specialty since childhood, and I waste no time doing it now. Her favorite thing is speaking about herself
—
so I change to the subject to one I know she’ll like better. “What are you training for?”

A flash of understanding crosses her face. She knows what I’m doing but doesn’t fight it. “Inner guard,” she mock-whispers behind her hand. Her wide grin threatens to swallow her face
—
this is the job she dreamed about. Kyra had no interest in politics or agriculture or really any of the subjects we studied in school
—
she’s always wanted to work in security or be a spy, which, to be honest, I find amusing. But here she is, apparently guarding my mother.

Correction: guarding me.

“You’re working with Annalise?” I spit out her name, not caring if anyone else picks up on how I detest her.

Mother leans closer to me. “Is there a reason you dislike your sister-in-law?”

The words tumble out, with no restraint. “She was mean to me. And Beck. And she wrapped me up in some weird heavy air.”

Kyra giggles and I pause, knowing I sound like a three-year-old tattling, but can’t stop. “She scares me.”

The air around us vibrates. Remembering the attack on Summer Hill, I duck, throwing my arms above my head and clenching my eyes tight. I should have known the Light witches wouldn’t let me go without a fight.

But instead of battle sounds, there’s a long silence until Mother snaps, her voice icy and hard, “Annalise!”

My eyes open halfway, but I continue to cower. Mother’s eyes flash with fury.

“Yes, Malin?” Annalise appears to my left and bows slightly.

“Did you purposely frighten
my daughter
?”

“I,” Annalise grips the sides of her head in pain. “I’m sorry,” she cries out as she doubles over. Her raven hair falls across her face, obscuring it. “We didn’t mean to
—
we only wanted to scare Beck.”

“Did I tell you to frighten either of them?” Mother glares at Annalise. “Did I?”

A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. After what she did to me
—
to Beck
—
Annalise deserves everything coming to her.

Still bent over, Annalise recoils. “No, Malin. You did not.”

With a quick jerk of her head, Mother dismisses Annalise, who disappears instantly. I stare at the spot where she had been standing and a deep satisfaction rolls through me, pleased to see Annalise punished. If only I could command that kind of respect from others.

Kyra winks at me, blows a kiss and follows Annalise into the void. An emptiness eats at my heart once she’s gone. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much I missed my friend. As much as I enjoy Eloise’s company, she’ll never replace Kyra.

Mother runs her hands over her dress and adjusts her necklaces so they lie evenly. “See, my love? I will never let anyone harm you.” Her voice is soft and chime-like again. “Shall we?” She takes my hand and leads me toward the cottage. Even though I should fear her, nothing about my mother frightens me.