Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(77)

Behind us, I could hear my friends coming up the stairs. I turned in time to see Miss Morton flinging a flaming brazier at them, burning coals and all. I screamed, “No!”

Alicia fanned her hands, blade flashing in a symbol even I didn’t recognize. The burning coals transformed into lemon blossoms. I stopped, staring at my tiny friend. I’d never heard of changing matter from one form to another, but Alicia had done it. Even Miss Morton appeared impressed.

“So the little mouse has mastered her magic has she?” Miss Morton chuckled.

“It’s easy when you have good friends,” Alicia said casually, plucking lemon blossoms from her skirt. She picked one up in the palm of her hand and blew on it. The flower spun into the air, aided by a counter-clockwise conductor’s twirl of her athame. The blossom grew into a massive black blob of black, oily liquid as it flew towards Miss Morton. Miss Morton rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist. The black slime splashed over an invisible dome-shaped shield over Miss Morton, streaming down as if against glass, where it puddled at her feet.

“And what about you, Cow?” Miss Morton sneered. “I don’t see much of a change in you. So much for the healing powers of friendship.”

I felt something flare through Ivy’s magic, rage, white-hot rage that seemed to singe the edges of my brain. I whipped my head toward Ivy, who was glaring at Miss Morton in an expression of rage I’d never seen on her sweet face. Her dark eyes glittered with a wrathful light that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You will not call me that,” Ivy told her.

Miss Morton snickered. “What, Cow? Oh, you poor poppet, did you actually believe that being the Translator’s little flunky made you anything more than the pathetic creature you are? You’re nothing, less than nothing. You’re not even brave enough to become nothing, Cow. You’re just like every sad, talentless girl who has shuffled these halls before you.”

With Miss Morton’s attention focused on Ivy, I turned back to the book. Alicia shifted her body ever so slightly, placing herself between my back and Miss Morton. I turned to the page showing the spell to banish a malevolent spirit into the next world. Phillip lighted on the bookstand, feathers ruffled and agitated, but not making a sound.

Miss Morton scoffed. “You’ve never fought back in your life. Just go downstairs, girls, while Miss Reed and I finish our business. I’ll come for you, soon enough.”

“You will not call me that,” Ivy said again, her fingers flexing.

“Salt,” I whispered to Phillip, who flitted away into the depths of the tower. “Or what?” Miss Morton laughed at Ivy.

“Or this!” Ivy shouted, dropping to the ground and stabbing her blade between spaces in the stones. Flames leapt from the floor, zipping towards Miss Morton as if following a trail of lamp oil. Ivy’s fiery anger had transformed into actual fire, and it seemed to be taking on the shape of a bull, running at Miss Morton at top speed. Miss Morton’s eyes went wide at the sight a giant flaming cow aiming its horns at her and held up her blade to ward it off.

The bull’s nose met the tip of Miss. Morton’s worn silver athame and folded in on itself, becoming a tiny ball of smoke and ember. Miss Morton couldn’t quite relax, though, because her skirts were in flames. She shrieked beating at them for a second before summoning a storm of dirt and grit from the unkempt tower floor to suffocate the flames.

I rushed to Ivy and Alicia, standing shoulder to shoulder with our blades pointed at Miss Morton. Behind our insane librarian, Jeanette stirred awake, eyes wide in alarm. Her thrashing against her bonds woke the other two girls, who came to just in time to see Phillip drop a small bag of salt into my hand.

Ivy took the bag and threw the salt into the air. She raised her blade and drew restraining wards. The salt landed in a perfect circle around Miss Morton’s feet, a stark white contrast against the ash and dirt. Miss Morton screamed in rage and tried to run at me, but the circle held her. Alicia flicked her fingers and the salt sputtered to life, a circle of green energy that surrounded Miss Morton on all sides. Alicia’s magic thrilled through the bond, pleased with her creation.

Miss Morton howled, scrambling to protect her already damaged skirts from the crackling walls of ghostly light. She slashed at the walls with her athame, her blade making quickly reforming scratches on her green prison.

Miss Morton hissed through the crayfire. “All that time with the book, sharing your magic with me, I am bound to you now. I am in your every pore. I will return! I am the mistress of Death! My undead armies will rise! I will bring House Grimstelle to glory once again! And I’ll do it with your help!”

Alicia and Ivy’s magic swirled and danced with mine, not appreciating the insinuation that Miss Morton’s magic was stronger. I didn’t need an army. I had one. I had Alicia and Ivy.

I smiled, just as frosty as Mrs. Winter ever dreamed of being. “You don’t even know me. You’re not even half the witch I am.”

Phillip flew over my head, beating the air with his tiny blue wings. Alicia’s hand rested on my left arm and Ivy’s right shoulder pressed to mine. We raised our blades. I looked Miss Morton in the eye and drew the most dangerous symbol in the Mother Book. “Unmake.”

Like the spell promised, Miss Morton became nothing. A dark shadow seemed to slip out of Miss Morton’s body, rising like dirty green-grey smoke. Her body dropped to the floor and was consumed by the green fire, burning bright for a moment and then collapsing on itself like a dying star. The smoke hovered over the glowing circle before fading away onto the wind.