Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(81)

“Blessings on you, Bianca. You’re going to need all the strength you have to make it through what’s coming.”

???

A stark sense of impending doom crept up on me as I hiked back into Letum Wood, Isadora’s at my back. Unable to talk myself out of the melancholy, I transported to the trails outside Chatham Castle, as familiar as the warm veins of blood on the back of my hand. My anxiety drifted into my run. Rushing past the dark trees, leaping over the boulders, and navigating the maze of tree roots cleared my head. Letum Wood made me feel strong again. Or was it the magic? Sometimes I couldn’t discern the difference.

By the time I made it back to the apartment, the night had advanced. The late shift of Guardians patrolled the Wall. Double that number flanked every floor on the grand staircase and the entrances. The Royal Hall teamed with Guardians and Protectors, those visible and those not. Perhaps the High Priestess knew what I could not say.

Miss Mabel is coming. Soon. She’ll be here soon.

After washing my sticky skin and changing into a cool blue linen dress with cap sleeves and a swooping neckline trimmed with white ribbon, I started up the Witchery stairs, barefoot. The anxiety from talking to Isadora had turned into a nagging headache, but I ignored it and climbed to the top anyway, hopeful that my friends were still awake.

If this is it, I thought, gazing around the familiar turret walls, if I die tomorrow, I’ll live my last night in style.

Camille stood in front of a mirror, practicing curling her hair, wearing only her binder and a set of light knickers. She let out a yelp when the door slammed into the wall and I burst into the room. Michelle jerked, overturning an inkwell. Leda slowly glanced up from a book, annoyed.

“I’m going to stay up all night,” I declared, breathless. “Who’s with me?”

Camille dropped a curl and spun around.

“What?”

“Let’s stay up all night!” I said, exhilarated with the idea. “We can go raid the kitchen and bring all the food back here and play games.”

Camille gasped for joy.

“I’ve always wanted to stay up all night talking!” she cried, throwing herself onto a pillow. “Oh, it sounds wonderful. We can talk about the ball and braid each other’s hair. Ooh! Let’s sneak into the library and un-alphabetize the books.” She let out an evil giggle. Leda rolled her eyes and tucked herself back into the tome she was studying.

“I’m working early tomorrow so I can get off in time to get ready for the ball,” Michelle said, watching the thick pool of spilled ink gather back into the bottle with a collection incantation.

“I don’t do well without sleep,” Leda replied carelessly.

“Oh, come on!” I pleaded first to Michelle and then to Leda. “It’ll be fun! Plus, Fina will never miss it if we steal some goodies because they’re making so many for tomorrow. What’s more fun than stuffing our face with chocolate and brownies?”

“Nothing!” Camille squeaked. “Nothing at all! I’m in!”

“Please?” I begged. “Do it for me.”

Because I may never have another chance.

Michelle seemed to have read my thoughts. “Bianca,” she whispered. “I forgot. Tomorrow is your seventeenth birthday.”

The room fell silent, destroying the amicable mood I’d tried to force. Leda set aside her book and straightened.

“Tomorrow?” she demanded, her lips pinching in a tight line. “No, it can’t be tomorrow.”

Camille’s joy died into an instant set of tears.

“What? It’s tomorrow?”

“No!” I cried, frantically trying to get the jovial air back. “No! We aren’t doing this. We aren’t! I just . . . I just want to have one fun night. Just in case. Okay? We won’t act like I’m going to die tomorrow.” Camille’s lower lip began to tremble, and I tacked on, “Because I’m not.” The silence grew cumbersome, then awkward.

“Right,” Leda declared, standing up. She met my eyes with a small, resolute smile. “The High Priestess promised you that she’d sort it out, and she will. Let’s have a fun night. Brownies it is!”

Michelle stood. “I’m in,” she said. “I-I’m not sure I can stay awake all night, but I’ll try.”

Camille clapped, sniffled, and stood up, her eyes still sparkling with unshed tears.

“Indeed! The High Priestess will have it put to rights. We’ll think of nothing but having fun for the rest of the night!” she declared. “Let’s go swim without clothes in the pond! I’ve always wanted to try.”

We started our celebration by sneaking into the kitchen by the back staircase. Michelle created a distraction while the rest of us filched brownies, tarts, lemon bars, a bottle of fizzy water, and a handful of cranberry poppy seed muffins, piling our ill-gotten gains onto a tray. I stuffed a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a few other goodies in a pillowcase. Then we left, running back up the stairs with hushed giggles and Leda’s panicked threats that we’d be found if we didn’t hush up. When Mrs. L saw us from the other end of a hall and called out, we ran for the turret and threw ourselves into the safety of the stairwell before she caught us. I put a protective incantation on the stairs to keep her out, just in case.

“Oh, don’t forget to try the lemon bar,” Camille sighed an hour later, her eyes closed as she savored the sweet-and-tart pastry. We sat around the table, our fare spread out in a lavish feast before us, the turret windows thrown open. “It’s simply divine.”