Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(82)



Michelle tried a bit of croissant glazed with strawberry and chocolate. Leda, who for once didn’t have a book within arm’s length, dove into a berry tart and didn’t speak for minutes. The remnants of our food hurricane were scattered on the floor around us. Camille had stripped all the way down to her knickers and binder again, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a high ponytail.

“They are going to serve fifty different kinds of pie tomorrow,” Michelle said, picking out a chunk of sponge cake.

“The Central Network has always celebrated with food,” Camille said, sucking the frosting off her fingers. “Which is precisely why I shall always consider it home. At least I know I’ll be in good company. I do hope there’s a Milton berry pie tomorrow.”

“There will be,” Michelle said with a happy sigh.

I eyed a square brownie loaded with frosting. I’d just finished a slice of chocolate cake. Should I?

Might as well, I thought, and snatched it before Leda could. She changed course and went for an eclair instead.

“Oh, I’m so excited to go to the Anniversary Ball!” Camille said, recovering her usual breathy tone. “I’m just going to die when I have to leave to go back to school in the fall.”

“What if they don’t start school back up?” I asked after swallowing a thick bite of brownie. All three of them stopped chewing to stare at me.

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked. “Why would they stop school?”

Realizing that I had spoken up too soon—I couldn’t explain what Isadora told me without having to explain why I went to Isadora in the first place—I tried to dance around it.

“With war becoming more and more likely,” I said in a musing tone, “Isadora may not deem it safe to run the Network schools until the danger subsides.”

Camille waved it off.

“I’ll just stay here with you and Miss Scarlett. It would be amazing!”

“I don’t think it will happen,” Leda said in a cool tone as she took another bite of eclair dripping with cream filling. A drop fell and plopped onto her hand. She sucked it off. “It will all work out.”

“You aren’t worried?” I asked. I wondered what she saw that she wasn’t telling me. Leda avoided my eyes.

“No.”

“Let’s play a card game, shall we?” Camille asked, grabbing a deck of cards. “Zeke taught me a really fun one. Then, once it’s really late, we’ll sneak to the pond and go swimming.”

The cards spilled all over the floor when she opened the flap, scattering into a hundred different places. The mishap broke the strand of tension in the air and all of us dissolved into laughter, reclaiming the joy we’d felt and forgetting that it could be our last night together.





The Empowerment

All of us fell asleep shortly after Michelle went to work in the kitchens, just before the sunrise. I woke to Camille slapping me while she mumbled in her sleep, and I plucked a reed out of my hair from our wicked trip to the pond. Leda was nowhere to be found. I got up with the sun and quickly dressed, tucking my hair into an orderly braid and tossing it over one shoulder. I had an Empowerment to attend.

Two Guardians stood near the grand staircase as I walked past. The added security set my teeth on edge. With the ball tonight, and all the Coven Leaders and their families here, Papa and Tiberius had taken every safety precaution. Miss Mabel’s letter ran through my mind, and I shuddered. I wished again, for the hundredth time, that I could send out a warning of what may come. I’d tried, only to find cold silence tightening my throat.

I sucked in a deep breath and steered myself for the Royal Hall. The Guardians stood in the path, barring any entrance. Before I could explain my presence they parted, letting me through.

The Throne Room stood at the end of the hall, just before the High Priestess’s office. The double doors contained our history in a quick glimpse. I stopped long enough to study the elaborate carvings that started at the top and worked their way down. Esmelda filled up the left corner at the top, and the rule of High Priests and Priestesses moved across the door. A black x marked Evelyn’s spot.

I turned away with a shudder.

The doors to the Throne Room groaned when I pushed against its bulky weight, exacerbating an already pounding headache that hadn’t gone away since I left Isadora’s. A line of crimson and gold carpet ran from the doors up to the stone stairs that led to the thrones. The two massive chairs sat next to each other, elevated on a platform above the rest of the room. The High Priestess’s throne sat ahead of the High Priest’s, indicating that she held more power. Papa would never exceed her in power as long as she was alive. Once she died and a new High Priestess took her place, his throne would move forward.

Papa lounged in the Dragon Throne, his eyes trained on a distant spot on the wall above me. A run of paintings depicting previous High Priests and Priestesses circled the entire room, their faces peering out like old specters. A blank, empty spot stood where Evelyn’s painting should have been. No painting would rest there as an ugly reminder of the dangers of dark magic and evil purposes.

“Papa?” I asked. The door whispered to a close behind me as I ventured a few steps into the mostly empty room. My bare feet made no sound as I walked. Papa drew in a deep breath and tore his eyes away from the spot at which he’d been staring on the wall.

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