Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(60)

“Get away from me!” I yelled. His pale lips parted over his teeth, and he let loose a rasping grunt. His cold fingers closed around my throat and began to squeeze. I shrieked, clawing at his wrists. Squirming against the grass, I tried to roll away, but Tom’s grip was too tight.

I reached up, pushing at his shoulders, anything to get him away from me. I felt heat, strong and thick, spreading from the metalwork on my hands, burning through the material of my dress. The smoke spiraled up around Tom’s face, but he ignored it, wholly concentrated on squeezing the breath from me.

I tried to pull the thick rope of heat back into my hands, away from Tom’s body, but as my lungs burned for air, I felt a final push from within my heart and against Tom’s shoulders.

“Please,” I wheezed, letting that wave of energy loose up my arms and through my hands, against his shoulders. The metal dragonfly vibrated with panicked, angry energy, warming my hands through.

A bubble of white heat exploded around us. Tom was thrown off of me, and I rolled, stumbling to my feet, tripping over my skirts. I crawled on my knees, kicking off the thick material, winding around my ankles. Something pale brushed against my hand. A branch about the thickness of my thumb. I grabbed it, just as I felt Tom’s weight drop on my back. Again, his cold hands wrapped around my neck and squeezed. Gasping, I pushed against the ground with all of my might and squirmed onto my back. In the process, the branch snapped into a jagged point.

Birch purified.

I jabbed the branch into Tom’s hand and he lost his grip. I rolled onto my back. For the briefest moment, Tom’s eyes went clear and focused on my face. The expression on his face was so frightened that it might have broken my heart if not for his continued efforts to strangle me. With all of the strength I had left, I stabbed the branch into Tom’s neck.

Suddenly, a burst of blue-black smoke rolled out of his mouth and his body went slack, dropping to the ground beside me. I laid still on the cold ground, trying to count the body parts that didn’t hurt. There weren’t many.

I closed my eyes. I owed my life to a stick. Ridiculous.

I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, cold and exhausted, the clouds rolling overhead. Tom was still and quiet beside me.

“Miss Reed? Are you all right?”

I looked up to see Miss Morton, standing over me, her head tilted to the side. She seemed to be looking around me, perhaps searching for signs of life from Tom? I lifted my head far enough to inspect the ground around me. “I’m not sure.”

Miss Morton crouched over me, reaching for my books. I scooped them up quickly, but I let her help me to my feet.

“What’s happened here?” she asked. “Is that Tom? What did – Did he attack you?”

I sat up slowly. “Yes, but I don’t think he was entirely under his own power, Miss Morton.”

“What happened?” Miss Morton asked, tsking as she inspected the raw spots on my neck. “You must tell me everything, so I can help you.”

“I’m not sure,” I said, hissing as her fingers prodded my bruises. “I was sitting under the tree, and he just stumbled toward me. He tried to choke me. But I think… I think he was dead, Miss Morton.”

Miss Morton frowned. “Oh, no, Cassandra, that’s not possible. You were just frightened.”

“Miss Reed? Miss Morton?” Headmistress Lockwood’s voice snapped from across the lawn. I whipped my head towards her voice and immediately regretted it. My neck was tender. Her steely eyes went wide at the sight of Tom’s body. Miss Morton dropped her hands and backed away from me immediately.

“What has happened here?” Headmistress Lockwood demanded. “Cassandra? Are you all right?”

Miss Morton put an arm around me. “Tom attacked Miss Reed.”

Headmistress Lockwood peered down at the body and immediately began shaking her head, so hair that her hair shook loose from its prim bun. “Impossible. He’s been dead for a day or more,” the headmistress said, examining his hands. “You see the blue-black tinge along his fingernails? That’s a sign of poisoning, mostly likely fungal.”

“He was walking around,” I insisted. “He tried to strangle me.”

The headmistress peered down her nose, peeling the collar of my dress away from my throat.

“That’s not what happened,” she told me. “You’re just frightened out of your wits.”

“I am not,” I shot back.

“To make a man walk after death is the blackest magic there is, Miss Reed. The texts on it were sealed long ago,” protested Miss Morton.

“Well, someone has opened them up, because he was on his feet,” I said.

“Could it be… a Revenant?” Miss Morton gasped, scrambling back from Tom’s body and clutching at her collar in horror.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Morton. Pull yourself together. Now, Miss Reed, you don’t look well,” Headmistress Lockwood informed me, pulling at my cheeks so she could examine the whites of my eyes. “Pale, dark circles under the eyes.”

“I was just attacked by a dead person,” I noted.

“And clearly you have sustained some head trauma if you think that is the appropriate tone to use with your headmistress,” she said dryly. “Have you been sleeping lately?”

“When I’m not studying,” I insisted. “I just came out here for a little fresh air.”