Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(74)

And then I remembered, Miss Morton. Miss Morton was a Grimstelle. Miss Morton had stolen the Mother Book.

“Just a little bit more,” Miss Morton cooed, the tarnished owl glinting dully in the low light as she propped the Mother Book into my hands. “You’ve given me almost everything I need. You’ve been so very helpful, Cassandra. I can’t control the Mother Book. I will never be given that privilege, but all that power flowing through your veins. It’s mine. I’ve cursed the book, you see, to be a sort of psychic funnel, channeling all that lovely power of yours into my magic. You’ve been draining yourself of your very life force for weeks. It’s almost used up, now. I wrote the spell years ago, just waiting for the day a Translator might come along. And when you finally let the book out of your sight long enough for me to take it from your room, I laid my trap. I’ve learned over the years, hiding my heritage, living in mediocrity, to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. And look how my investment has profited!”

She smiled sweetly, her eyes glittering madly behind her round-rimmed glasses. “Every time you were such a good little witch, obeying my requests to work with the book, meditating so faithfully, you were feeding me your magic, making me stronger. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half so much. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to use my family’s spells to raise poor Tom. I’d hoped that if he finished you for me, that I could take the book, that without a Translator, its secrets would be open to me. But alas, I am just going to content myself with taking your magic.”

“Miss Morton, please don’t do this,” I slurred, falling against my chair, exhausted by the effort of speaking. I felt Miss Morton’s cold fingers, tugging at my wrists, binding me with rough hemp rope. “I trusted you.”

“Oh, believe me, dear, I know. Do you have any idea how irritating it is to hear someone complain about having such a gift drop in their lap? I would kill to be able to do what you do without even thinking about it… well, I suppose, I will kill to be able to do what you do.”

“Did you change the ceiling in the library, when you were a girl?”

She rolled her eyes a bit. “An act of youthful rebellion. It burned me, every time I walked into that library and saw the Mother Houses sigils, leaving out House Grimstelle. But no one even knew what the Grimstelle owl meant. They didn’t know to be afraid. They thought it was some girlish prank, but the experience taught me that temper tantrums wouldn’t get me the power, the respect that I wanted. Long years of calculated work, that was my path. And working under that blemish, day in and day out, for years, helped me remember that.”

She brushed my hair away from my face in a movement that was almost tender. And the gesture had me closing my eyes like a sleepy child. “You should feel fortunate, to be a part of this, to be a witness to a change in history’s guard. I am going to make the Great Restoration look like a garden party. You will help me turn the whole world on its ear. All of those Guardians who have treated you and Snipes like you like dirt over the years, they will understand what it means to be afraid, helpless, to have their choices taken away. I will bring them to their knees.”

I squinted at her. “You know about me?”

“Of course, I do, dear,” she sniffed. “Mrs. Winter provided far too many details in your story when she applied for you. Aneira never explains herself to anyone like that. Besides, no child who’d had access to library books her whole life would treat them with the reverence you do. But honestly, Cassandra, I don’t care where your magic comes from. As long as I can use it to meet my goals.”

Staring past her, I could see Phillip on the ledge of the tower, chirping furiously. I swallowed, barely able to produce enough air to make words. I hadn’t felt this weak since my days as Sarah, swallowing those suppressors. “Phillip. Mrs. Winter. Ivy. Alicia. Please.”

“What was that, dear?” she asked.

I shook my head, wrapping my arms around my middle. The tower was so cold. Or was it me? I felt the holster for Wit under my sleeve. Miss Morton hadn’t thought to take it from me. I could use it to protect myself if I could just lift my arms. My eyelids drifted shut. My head drooped forward and I had to catch myself to keep from toppling over. I would get up in just a minute. Wait, no, Miss Morton was tying me to the chair…



Gasping as I woke, I felt warm hands curl around my arms, dragging me away from the desk, against a wall of the tower. The chair made distressingly loud scraping sounds against the stone floor.

“Whass happening?” I slurred, slumping forward. I glanced around and found Ivy giving me a reassuring smile. “Just give us a minute, and we’ll have you free, Cassandra.”

“How did you get here?” I whispered.

Alicia said, “You called us here. You’re annoying little bird was very insistent.”

“And your mirror messages were getting near incoherent, we knew something was wrong,” Ivy added.

“You got my messages? Why didn’t you write back?”

“Our mothers took our athames so we couldn’t respond.”

“They actually coordinated the effort,” Alicia groused. “I was on the verge of stealing Gavin’s blade from his room when Ivy climbed up my trellis. She snuck her athame out of her parents’ room.”

“That’s funny,” I giggled loopily. When they paused to stare at me, I added, “Because ivy climbs a trellis – the plant. Never mind.”