Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(57)

“There you are!” I cried the moment his perplexed face came into view. He opened his mouth to speak, but I brushed past. “Sorry, don’t have time. Merry part, Donald!”

He called after me, but I quickly slipped away.

???

I wandered down to the dining room that evening after practicing by myself in the Forgotten Gardens for several hours. Footwork, sword routines, swings and arcs, all ran through my head. My shoulders ached from the work, but I enjoyed it. Merrick and I hadn’t gone for a run in Letum Wood ever since our talk and I was happy to leave it like that.

Two maids walked past me in the hall, whispering in low tones.

Well, the night maid said that the High Priestess declared war during the Council meeting.

They say that the West is trying to infiltrate from the Borderlands.

I heard the Southern Network heard our bugle as well.

Gossip about the possibility of war rang through the castle all day, leaving me with a dour feeling. None of it meant anything, but that didn’t seem to matter. Witches would believe any information to gain some sense of control over a moment in their lives. I knew the feeling, even if I didn’t understand it.

I steered myself into the dining room with a sigh and headed toward the food table, my stomach growling. Night had fallen, and the candles and torches flickered from a breeze whistling through the open windows, winding around the wooden tables and chairs.

After piling a plate high with roasted potatoes, a chicken leg, a mound of buttery corn, and a dinner roll, I snatched the last brownie before they disappeared. Michelle sat at our usual table with Nicolas at her side. He had a swatch of brown hair on the back of his head that ran against the rest of his mop and, as a result, stuck almost straight up. It looked endearing in a boyish kind of way.

“Merry meet,” I said, sitting across from them.

“Merry meet, Bianca,” Michelle said in her quiet voice. Nicolas smiled at me, his baby blue eyes lighting up.

“Merry meet, Miss Bianca. It’s good ta see ya this evening.”

I smiled at him. Unlike the other witches from Chatham City, Nicolas had an undeniable warmth in his accent. Michelle’s cheeks flushed to a bright red, and she ducked her attention back to her plate.

“Where’s Camille?” I asked.

“By the Guardians,” Nicolas said.

I looked up to find Camille sitting in the midst of a table of off-duty Guardians. Brecken sat several chairs away, ignoring her completely. Camille made an obvious point of never looking his way.

“Where’s Leda?” Michelle asked. “I tried to find her earlier but couldn’t. She wasn’t in the Witchery or the library.”

“I’m not sure,” I said vaguely. “Maybe she’s doing something with Miss Scarlett.”

“Have you heard about the forest dragons?” Nicolas asked. A fluffy little cloud of mashed potatoes sat on the end of his fork. “Word is just getting out about them tonight.”

Michelle smiled a little. “Nicolas loves dragons,” she explained. “Actually, he’s quite obsessed with them.”

“No,” I said with a little curl of worry. “What about them?”

He shifted in his seat, moving a little closer. His voice lowered to an excited, conspiratorial tone. There was a bright spark in his eyes.

“Two dragons were spotted flying over Letum Wood yesterday, after Almack died. That’s as good as a signed declaration of war, if ya ask me.”

“How so?” I asked.

“The dragons only come out if there’s danger headed for Chatham Castle. With the Southern Network doubling their guards at the wall, not ta mention the issues with the West, there can’t be any other assumption, can there?”

A bleak spirit slid into the conversation, and I nudged at my pile of corn dismally. Nicolas dropped his fork back to the plate with a little clatter and gave himself wholeheartedly to the tale.

“Witches started spotting the dragons at odd times the past week or so. I saw one myself in the distance, flying over the boundaries. They’re beautiful animals. I’ve read about them my whole life. And just think: I might get close enough ta see one flying by!”

Michelle shot me a secret smile.

“Yes,” I drawled. “That would be unforgettable, wouldn’t it?”

“But mark my words,” he finished in a sour tone, “bad things are coming ta the Central Network if the dragons are out. I don’t want anything bad ta happen, but I do want ta see a dragon.”

Dragons in flight, Miss Mabel’s use of Almorran magic, and Papa’s head on the chopping block with the Council tomorrow. Could anything else go wrong?

A loud chorus of laughter interrupted my grim thoughts. Camille shot to her feet, desperately reaching across the table at which she sat. A Guardian named Luther held something out of her grasp, taunting her. The witches at their table laughed uproariously while she swiped for it.

“Come get it, Camille!” Luther taunted.

“Please,” Camille pleaded, looking worried. “Give it back. It was my mother’s. Please! Oh, don’t break it! It’s all I have!”

“You can have it as soon as you can get it!” another Guardian said, holding up his hands for it. Luther tossed it to him over Camille’s head. The necklace glinted as it flew through the air between the two of them. I pushed to my feet, my chest flaring with anger, when Michelle stopped me with a hand on my arm.