Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(16)



“What are you doing up here?” A shrill, annoyed voice caught up with me from behind. “You don’t normally walk down this hall.”

Oh, Mrs. L, I thought as soon as I heard the nasally hum behind the tone. You grace me with your pinching presence yet again.

Mrs. L had been the housekeeper at Chatham Castle for so long no one remembered when she started. She had piles of grayish blonde hair on top of her head that towered like a pillar of clouds. Her thin lips, bony hands, and slender frame were as tight and anxious as her personality. Not only was she the best housekeeper in the Central Network, but she also kept abreast of every scrap of gossip. Nothing passed her notice.

Not even my walking habits, apparently.

Her particular vendetta against me started when I met her in the winter while trying to earn my first mark by attending the Esbat, a monthly meeting for Network leaders. In order to get into the meeting I had to insult her. Unfortunately, Mrs. L did not forget anything.

I kept my eyes on the hideous bat-like creatures while she came up behind me. I tried to figure out an escape plan. Would running away be too obvious of an escape? Yes. She’d holler at me, lest I fall and bleed on something. Transporting? I could just disappear in the middle of the conversation. No, she’d track me down. Enduring the crotchety old housekeeper was my only option.

“Mrs. L, do you know what these are?” I asked, pointing to the painting and feigning a deep interest in the work. Mrs. L came up to my side and studied it with her head tilted back.

“Clavas,” she said with a sniff. “They transform into humans from their bat-like form. Very powerful fighters. It’s Almorran magic and hasn’t been used since the Networks were formed. This painting has been here since the castle was built, actually, and depicts the Almorran witches using Clavas in the Mortal wars. The Clavas almost killed Esmelda, you know.”

“Jikes,” I muttered and she shot me a sharp look.

“Watch your language, young lady. It’s not attractive to use profanity like that.”

I turned back to the painting.

“Almorran?” I clarified. “Are you sure?”

The Almorran witches had been our ancient enemies. They lived back in the time when witches co-existed with mortals before the five Networks formed. The Almorran Priests exiled the mortals, sending them across the ocean to their death or salvation, no one knew. Brutal curses and dark magic were the Almorran legacy.

“Of course I’m sure!” she said.

“Yes, however did I doubt you? Thank you for that explanation, Mrs. L, but I really must be going now! Merry part.”

“Wait, where are you going?” she demanded. “I don’t trust teenagers. They have no control over their impulses, especially teenagers without parents around.”

No wonder we don’t get along, you old bat, I thought. I have no control, and you need too much.

I ground my teeth together and forced a warm smile.

“I’m just going to see my friends, Mrs. L. I’ll save the subterfuge for another day.”

“Where are your friends?” she asked, her eyes darting around. “They aren’t up at that turret, are they? I watch you girls. I know you’re conspiring up there.”

“Conspiring?”

“Yes, conspiring! That pale girl takes books up there all the time. What is she trying to learn? It’s odd that she studies so much. I don’t like it.”

“I agree, Mrs. L,” I said in a droll tone. “Leda is odd. Perhaps she’s trying to figure out the composition of your cleaning potion. You should talk to her about it. One can’t be too careful.”

Before she could respond, everything went black.

The floor fell out from underneath me and I plunged into darkness with a gasp. The usual pressure of transporting bore down on my closed eyes and chest, as if something heavy sat there. I felt the weight, and then it disappeared. I fell onto a rock floor with a heavy thud and curled onto my side with a cough. I’d just transported somewhere, that much I knew for sure. But where? And how? Transporting another witch was a power reserved just for High Priests and High Priestesses, and I hadn’t . . .

“Merry meet, Bianca darling. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I froze. The low drawl, the smug tone, the chills it brought to my spine, could only mean one witch.

I pushed off the floor and leapt to my feet, coming face-to-face with the witch I’d kill if I had the power. Miss Mabel stood before me in all her alluring, evil glory. Her crimson lips twitched into a full, teasing smile. Wisps of blonde hair stuck out in organized disarray from a loose bun behind her right ear. The luminous blue eyes that haunted my dreams now blasted me with the power of an arctic wind. The moment we made eye contact, magic came to life in my chest with a dangerous scream.

“Welcome to my new home,” she said, spreading her arms out. “I’ve missed you very much.”

“Miss Mabel,” I said with a tight voice.

An expansive room with jagged red rock walls opened up behind her. There was no wall to my right, just a room leading to a balcony that made the area bright. Beyond it lay an endless expanse of yellow and red sand. The hot sun spilled in beams on the floor, sucking the moisture from every breath of air. Instead of walls, fluttering gossamer drapes edged with yellow lace separated the room into sections. Bookshelves on the left, warbled with carved designs in the dark mahogany. Decorative pots embedded with sparkling pieces of glass on the right. An elaborate painting of fire on the far wall straight ahead. Miss Mabel had transported me to her new lair in the Western Network.

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