Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(66)

???

The emerald canopy, so tall above me, seemed to wave and wink.

Wake up, Bianca, it sang. We’ve missed you.

I blinked three times, trying to recollect myself. Like at the rally in Chatham City, my memory of what had happened after the power took over had dissipated into snippets.

Miss Mabel’s face. Darkness. Falling on the ground in Letum Wood. Darkness. Trees flashing past as I ran. Darkness. My chest aching. Darkness. A pair of yellow eyes, a loud snort. Darkness. Tripping, skidding across the dirt. Darkness.

My heart clenched.

Yellow eyes.

My head pulsed when I sat up, and I had to squint through the dull thuds. Pain shot through my right leg. I looked down, my vision blurry, to see the big toenail on my right foot dangling off to the side, with only a red mush in its rightful place. Scratches raked my legs, and I reached up to feel blood on my face. Clearly I had started running, consumed by the power, and now had no idea where I had landed. I shot to my feet, my body still trembling.

“Where are you, dragon?” I called out, circling.

A few birds took flight from the nearest tree, scattering into the high branches. The eerie silence that followed broke with the snap of a twig. I whirled around but saw nothing more than mossy tree trunks. The darkness of the forest meant that hours had passed. Papa must be half-mad with worry. Giving in with a sigh and a whisper, I closed my eyes and initiated the transportation spell.

The blackness pressed on me for only a second, maybe two, before releasing, dumping me onto the floor of the apartment with a thump.

“Jikes!” I cried, grabbing my leg when the naked toe slammed into the floor. A nauseous roll grew in my stomach, threatening to spill as the white-hot pain danced up and down my bones. I rolled onto my side, my eyes screwed shut. “I’m going to be sick,” I muttered.

“What happened?” Papa’s concerned voice broke through the haze of pain. I opened my right eye and then my left to find him standing above me. “Are you all right?”

I dropped my head back to the floor.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just ripped my toenail off on a run.”

He stood and moved to a small cupboard near the window. The sound of glass vials clinking together followed.

“This is going to sting,” he said quietly, and seconds later fire ravaged my foot. I ground my teeth together to keep from crying out and waited for the pain to subside. After several minutes it calmed enough that I could take a deep breath.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I went for a run in Letum Wood and tripped over something,” I whispered, closing my eyes. I couldn’t bear to lie to his face again. A stab of guilt pierced me. He deserved so much better than this.

I’ve lied to you. I ran away because I’m supposed to kill you and I don’t deserve your trust.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes."

He helped me to my feet. The potion had already taken effect and numbed the top of my toe.

“Let’s talk out here,” he said, motioning to the balcony. I started forward, hobbling on a sore leg, my hip aching. The breeze brought me back into reality. We stayed in the quiet silence for minutes, studying the skyline. Witches milled around the high bailey and Chatham Road.

“There’s no celebration,” I observed.

Papa chuckled, but it was filled with something heavy.

“No. No one wanted to celebrate the High Priestess’s choice. She’s meeting with the Council right now. Several Members are threatening to walk away.”

“Good,” I muttered. “Let them go.”

Papa didn’t say anything in response.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, swallowing. “I shouldn’t have run out like that. I should have been there to support you. It just . . . it took me by surprise.”

“You weren’t the only one,” he muttered, his face tight with anxiety. An impossible thought occurred to me. Was Papa frightened?

“When did she ask you to do it?”

“This morning when she told me that she was going to remove me from the Protectors,” he answered. Not knowing what to say, I fell silent. I had so many questions I didn’t know where to start.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he continued. “I should have at least warned you so it wouldn’t be such a shock, but she forbade it. Understandably so. There are a few witches who don’t want me in power.”

There were many. Would Clive still fight Papa now? What would all those angry people in Chatham City have to say about it?

“When will she empower you?”

The Empowerment ceremony would confer the power of the High Priest on Papa, along with the charm, a bracelet, that signified the title.

“Just before the Network ball, on your birthday. There’s a lot to do before then, things to get straightened out. The High Priestess wanted to give the Central Network time to adjust before I took the official oath.”

“Wise,” I murmured. “Especially with so many displeased Council Members.”

“Yes. Understandably so.”

“Are you scared?”

“It’s a big responsibility,” he said, shooting me a sideways glance. “The High Priestess isn’t an easy person to turn down.”

I’ll do it for you, I wanted to say. I’ll tell her no. Then we can leave, just disappear. Maybe we’ll go north, into the mountains, where no one can find us. Exile wouldn’t be so bad, right?