Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(11)

“Oh, goodness. That’s frightening about Alvyn.” Camille blinked, pausing with a slice of bread halfway to her mouth. “But training with Merrick? He’s very handsome. I’d never be able to concentrate on the lesson. I’d just want to stare into those green eyes.”

Her gaze went distant for a second, then she shook her head and bit into her bread with renewed vigor.

“Do you want to do it?” Leda asked, carefully cutting her bread into small, bite-sized pieces. I could see the cogs in her mind spinning. Of the four of us, Leda was the logical planner. A vengeful witch set the Foresight Curse on Leda when she was a baby, which meant that she could see possibilities for the future. They pressed themselves upon her—she certainly didn’t want them—quite often. On rare occasions she would share the future chances with us, but most of the time she wisely kept them to herself. Her gaze went distant and I knew she was looking ahead, into the future, but wouldn’t tell me what she figured out.

“Yes, I do. It will be nice to have something else to think about.”

My sentence hung in the air like a bird stilled in flight. They knew what I didn’t say. Besides my mother’s death.

“I also want to know why Miss Mabel has witches hunting the forest dragons,” I said, clearing my throat.

“I’ll ask Nicolas,” Michelle said, then instantly blushed. “H-he’s a friend of my mine in the kitchen. He’s obsessed with dragons and has worked at Chatham since he was young, so he’ll know all about them. He talks about them all day.”

“Nicolas, was it?” Camille asked with a sly smile. “You should go with him to the Anniversary ball!”

“No!” Michelle said, averting her eyes. “I-I would never . . . I can’t dance o-or talk to him for very long.”

“Well I can’t wait to go!” Camille leaned back, her eyes glowing. “I’ve always dreamed of wearing a beautiful gown and dancing all night. And the food!”

She draped a lazy arm over her stomach and gave a satisfied sigh.

The High Priestess had deemed it mandatory that I attend the ball, or I would have found a reason not to go. I wondered if that would change now that safety was of greater concern. Leda would have outright refused if Miss Scarlett hadn’t told her she had to attend as part of the curriculum for her second year.

It’ll be a perfect chance to execute the manners I’ve taught you, she’d said a few days before, setting her sharp eyes mostly on me. You’ll not get another chance like this for months, even years.

“I certainly won’t be dancing for very long,” Leda said. Crowds of witches activated her curse, overwhelming her with a headache and making it almost impossible to function. “I’ll stay just long enough for Miss Scarlett to see me, and then I’ll leave.”

“Will you be able to go, Bianca?” Michelle asked.

“Yes, of course,” I said with a wicked smile. “I’ll go dressed as a Guardian and show off my newfound talent—sword fighting.”

They stared at me, aghast for a moment, then we all dissolved into a fit of girlish giggles that faded into the sweet perfume of the beautiful spring day.





Running Pains

A message fluttered into my bedroom the next morning, bringing the early tendrils of sunrise with it. The night-stained sky, with all her fading stars, winked at me from the skinny window on the opposite wall. I closed my eyes and groped blindly for the folded messenger paper hovering over my face until I caught it in my palm. With a groan, I forced myself to sit up. It took several moments to wake up enough to comprehend the message.

Meet me on the Wall in twenty minutes.

—Merrick

Yawning and half-blind from sleep, I stumbled into an old dress with long sleeves, left my feet bare as usual, and crept through the silent halls of Chatham Castle, braiding my hair as I went. A few maids, as weary as I, stumbled through their morning routines, ignoring me.

The air felt chilly when I stepped out into it, prickling the edges of my skin. The Wall, a protective structure several stories high, ringed the front and sides of Chatham Castle proper. Its top had a walkway wide enough to permit three or four carriages abreast. Most Guardians assigned to duty at Chatham Castle lived within the Wall. They called it the Ranks. The Gatehouse, where Papa and Tiberius worked, sat in the middle of the Wall, above the entrance from the road.

Merrick straightened as I neared. The early morning light made his eyes look bright and alert. Despite the early hour, he looked refreshed, as if he’d been awake for hours. I stifled another yawn at the thought. It was my first lesson. Surely he’d go easy on me.

“Ready to begin?” he asked. His deep voice rolled with a long rumble. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail as usual.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice betraying my suspicion. “What are we doing?”

He grinned. Perhaps he liked it when people didn’t know what to expect from him. He certainly had enough of that mysterious, vague air.

“We’re going to run,” he said.

“No!” I cried with a sharp intake of breath. Even the thought of running seemed unbearable. “I mean . . . I don’t run anymore.”

His eyes narrowed. “You can’t run?”

“I-I mean to say that I haven’t run since—”