Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(51)

The red rock was firm to stand on, but loose dirt shuffled beneath my feet as I moved to a divot in the wall. I moved as far to the left as I could go before encountering a wall that jutted out. From here, Miss Mabel’s balcony was a straight shot down. The two approaching West Guards stopped at the window and peered out. I pressed myself against the gritty wall and willed my heart to quiet. If I didn’t move, they wouldn’t be able to see me.

“Pity,” one of them said, drawing out the i so it sounded like peety. Their accent was strangely soft and lilting compared to the hoarse, rough dialect of Chatham City. “Almack was a good leader.”

“He was sick for so long. It’s good to die when you’re not strong anymore,” the other said.

My eyes widened. No wonder the Western Network was mourning. The whole world would soon join their wail, I imagined, when we all went to war.

The divot my right foot stood in started to lose integrity, and my body slid down the rock. I held my breath and tightened my grip on the two pieces of jutting rock my hands clung to. A little stream of dust dribbled down the wall, and a West Guard looked my direction with a sharp glance. I held my breath, thankful I’d had the wits to make myself invisible. All the work with Merrick had strengthened me, but I wouldn’t last forever.

“Let’s go,” the other said, softening the t so it sounded more like a breath. “We have work to do.”

The first Guard narrowed his eyes, still scrutinizing the spot where I grasped the wall “Yes,” he whispered. “Much work.”

They disappeared and I let out a breath of relief, just as the rock supporting my right foot and almost all my body weight gave way. I stifled a scream as I started sliding down the rock face, grappling for a new hold with my fingertips.

I skidded along the wall so fast it was little more than a blur. One second I was falling along the wall, plummeting toward the balcony floor, and then a flash of darkness, a moment of pressure, and I stood in the middle of Miss Mabel’s quarters.

I gasped. I’d transported right into her lair without knowing if she was here or not.

I froze, waiting for her condemning voice or for a maid to scream, but nothing happened. Feeling almost sick, I darted to the nook of bookshelves on the left and slipped behind the last shelf, tucking myself into a little corner. My gaze swept the room as I waited, but I saw and heard no one. My wild heart eventually began to slow. That brush with death had been a little too close. I whispered the invisibility incantation again; it hadn’t carried through the transportation.

Focus. Don’t lose your concentration now.

I reviewed my plan, listening for any suspicious noises.

Listen in. Find the book. Tear out the binding. Immediately transport back to Letum Wood.

A sultry breeze flapped Miss Mabel’s sheer curtains into the room. The sun was sinking low in the western sky, lighting the sand on fire. I drew in a deep breath. Sandalwood. Cumin. The smells reminded me of Miss Scarlett’s classroom. I turned my focus to listening to the sands around me. Nothing to hear but the mournful singing and pulsing drums.

A set of bookshelves stood across from me. I took a deep breath and padded closer, skimming all the titles. Almorran Traditions. Dark Magic from the Depths. Monsters of Antebellum.

The Book of Contracts was not with the rest of her gruesome library. Of course, I thought, canvassing the room again. She probably sleeps with it.

My eyes fell on a small alcove off the main room where a massive bed stood in between the fluttering curtains.

There, I thought. She’ll keep her Book of Contracts there.

A low murmur of voices came from somewhere near the hall. I froze, but they were still too far off to make out the words, which meant I still had a few moments of stolen time before I’d have to leave for good.

Once I made it into the bedroom, I paused in the doorway, taking it in. Rolled black pillows littered the sprawling bed. Tawny drapes that contrasted with the red rock walls danced in the air. A gilded mirror with elaborate carvings flared out like arms of the sun. The elegant simplicity was so Miss Mabel that it unnerved me. Her personal chambers felt oppressive and made me nervous, like crouching in a cave I couldn’t stand up in. I shifted my shoulders, as if that would shake it off, but it remained.

The voices in the hall were closing in. My eyes fell on another bookshelf, filled with scrolls of various sizes, a jar of white ink, a vial of veritas, and three extravagant peacock quills. No Book of Contracts.

I paused to listen again. The low drone of voices that had been far away sounded suspiciously close. Two females. I could barely make out their words now.

“A simple task . . . Many places to search . . . Can’t you handle it, Mabel?”

My heart fluttered. Miss Mabel was on her way back. They were still a few moments away if my guess was correct, so I threw myself into searching every nook and cranny of the room. I’d transport at the last possible second. The spell was ready on my tongue. The Book of Contracts wasn’t under her bed, or in the far cupboards. It didn’t hide behind the other books.

No! I thought desperately, shoving aside a few dresses. It has to be here!

The two voices turned into Miss Mabel’s main room. My heart pounded. Wasted! All of this would be wasted if I didn’t find it.

“I know I’m right, Mabel darling,” said an unknown voice with the light accent of a woman. Slightly condescending in tone, and punctuated with a crisp dialect I didn’t recognize. “I’m always right. Surely after all these years you’ve learned that.”