Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(42)



The tug on my muscles told me that we’d started up the hill, and I put all my concentration into moving higher. I thought of the ax, how I’d used the magic to give me strength. I tried to turn the powers into my legs, channeling it to make me run faster. Instead of obeying my command, the magic flared, sending a barrage of memories through my mind. Dancing in the kitchen. A flour fight. Mama humming in the rocking chair.

“No!” I yelled, startled by the intensity of the pain that ripped through me. I grabbed my head, hoping to erase the image of Mama in my mind. “No!”

The magic grew so hot, so fast that I lost almost all control. The edges of my vision went blurry. My heart drummed on the back of my ribs.

“Bianca!” Merrick yelled. “Stop!”

Startled, I skidded across the ground to find a massive claw blocking the trail ahead. The movement of a heavy tail swept my legs from underneath me. I fell to my backside and scrambled back.

“Whoa!”

A forest dragon stared at me with a lowered head and narrowed, darting eyes. Hot, steamy breaths blasted through the already sultry air. I barely registered Merrick stepping in front of me, his eyes averted to the trail.

“Don’t look at it!” he commanded. “Transport back to Chatham Castle right now.”

But I was looking at the dragon, and it worked no spell over me. The creature shook his black, angular head, the wide chasms of his nostrils widening and closing. He had a familiar tint of blue running through his body.

“Merrick, this is the same one from before,” I murmured.

The dragon looked from Merrick to me, the heat emanating off his body in long waves. His eyes had constricted, making his long face look suspicious and uneasy. He shifted, stamping his feet.

“Just go. You can’t know that,” Merrick said, his eyes flickering up toward the dragon and then away again. He was right. I couldn’t know that.

“Are they all violent?” I asked. “Because, if it is the same dragon, he hasn’t hurt me yet.”

Despite the danger I was flirting with by looking a forest dragon in the eye, I still admired the sleek, beautiful creature that lived in the deep shadows. As if he understood what I said, the dragon snarled and snapped his jaw, glaring at me in undisguised malice.

“Guess they are,” I whispered, pushing back a little farther.

The dragon tramped about the brush, his footfalls shaking the ground. Merrick fell to his knees; I had to grab onto a tree branch to stay upright. The forest dragon tilted his long head back and shot a blast of fire into the air, setting flame to the verdant canopy above.

“Go!” Merrick yelled. “Transport back to the Forgotten Gardens.”

Frightened into action, I obeyed, landing flat on my back with a heavy thud. Merrick appeared a few seconds after me, landing in an easy crouch. My hands trembled at my sides and my stomach felt queasy. I sat on the crumbling edge of the fountain wall and drew in a deep breath. This encounter with the forest dragon hadn’t been as sedate as the first. Perhaps they were creatures I should invest a healthy amount of fear toward.

Merrick pushed his sandy blonde hair out of his troubled eyes. He stared at the ground, setting his hands on his thighs. His jaw was tight again, angled with tension and worry.

“What is it?” I asked, wiping off the moisture on my forehead with the back of my hand. Merrick looked back to the forest, then to me. He shook his head.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Why are they here? They must be coming out for a reason. Forest dragons don’t just start interacting with witches, especially after centuries. They hate witches.”

The edge in his tone sent a little shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t even know they were real until a few weeks ago,” I said quietly.

His face dropped into a frown.

“I’ll talk to Sanna about it out later,” he said, returning to his usual intense focus. “Come on, let’s pair some footwork drills combined with attacks and blocks. Grab the two rock buckets and follow me.”





The Monster

The next day came and went without incident. Merrick and I didn’t speak about the dragon, and I was glad. Too much lay heavy on my mind already.

After a grueling morning workout carrying heavy stones to the top of the second-tallest turret, reviewing the same footwork a mind-numbing number of times, and using my wooden sword to spar with Merrick, I joined Camille and Michelle on their weekly trip into Chatham City.

Camille had dressed up in a pale pink dress with ivory lace and a small string of fake pearls, her hair pulled into a sweet, fluffy ponytail that rested on her left shoulder in long ringlets. I probably looked bland in my long-sleeved green dress. I’d been hoping to hide the ugly bruises from my lack of sword skills. My hair fluttered around my shoulders as usual.

“I just love going shopping in Chatham City,” Camille said with a happy smile as we walked along the straight-as-an-arrow road that led from the castle to the gates of the town. “I’m almost out of caramels, so we’ll stop at Miss Holly’s Candy Shop first. Then we’ll go get a few ribbons for my ball gown at the dressmakers.”

Camille’s prattle faded away and I let it, peering into the darkness of Letum Wood on either side of us. Was the dragon watching from deep within the forest? A few witches on horseback passed us with a nod. Two young boys, obviously Guardian hopefuls by the way they loitered around the gate, stared with open mouths as Camille sashayed by with near-poetic grace. If she noticed them, she gave no sign.

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