Antebellum Awakening (The Network Series #2)(84)
“She always did take in stray animals.”
The mirth settled into a comfortable silence, leaving both of us to our memories. Life had always been an adventure with Papa.
“I’m starting to forget what she looked like, Papa,” I whispered, wishing with all my heart that I could recall the lines of her face. I should have appreciated the living memories when I’d had them. “It frightens me.”
I hadn’t admitted it out loud before, and saying it made me feel fragile, exposed. Perhaps all this darkness would spill out of my heart and I could put it back together without the dragon inside. He took my hand in his and threaded our fingers together.
“I guess I’m lucky,” he said. “I get to see your mother every day.” I raised an eyebrow in silent question. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ears. “Every time I look at you I see Marie.”
“I love you, Papa,” I said, squeezing his hand. “No matter what happens, just remember how much I love you. I’m so proud of you.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. He chucked me softly under the chin, giving me the smile that Mama had fallen in love with so many years before, then pulled me in close and tucked me into his side.
For just that moment I let my heart melt, absorbing everything I could. I forgot about Miss Mabel, about the possibility that I could die or send the Central Network into a spiral that it couldn’t recover from. Because I didn’t know if it would be the last time he’d ever hold me, I thought only of his strong arms and the smell of peppermint.
???
Tiberius’s massive size gave me strength.
We stood together in the Throne Room, waiting for the Empowerment to begin. Papa had switched back into Protector mode and stood near the Dragon’s Throne with his hands folded in front of him, his face stoic.
Though Antebellum was deteriorating into war and panic, all of us could see that Papa didn’t fear. Any remnants of the worry he’d expressed to me had vanished. He looked calm and confident, just the way we needed him to be. The rest of the Protectors stood behind Zane in a line, their hands folded behind their backs. Merrick stood at the far end.
“Tiberius,” I leaned over to him. “Did the Protectors accept Merrick?”
He nodded once with an annoyed scowl.
“They voted this morning. He’s taking the open slot.”
I grinned down the row at Merrick, but he stared straight ahead and didn’t see. His jaw had a tighter clench, his eyes more focused than I’d seen before. I wondered if he was afraid.
The small group of thirteen projected an air of authority, but the wide range of their appearances was almost comical. Grizzled beards stood next to faces as smooth as a baby. Some of the Protectors were lean and strong, while others had paunchy bellies and bulky shoulders.
Ambassador Marten walked up to join Tiberius and me. He shot me a reassuring smile that helped quell the nervous fear in my belly, and nodded to Papa, who returned it with a wry grin.
“Derek Black,” the High Priestess said in her usual crisp manner the moment she walked into the room. “Because this is a private ceremony, and I’ve run out of patience for old traditions, I’m going to cut through most of the fluff.”
My lips twitched with a concealed chuckle as she passed.
In honor of the ceremony, she wore no crown, no jewelry, no embellishments at all. Instead of her ball gown she wore one of the yellow dresses that made her look ages older. Papa wore a pair of brown leather pants, sewn by Henrietta herself, and a black shirt with a black vest over it. Neither of the outfits were anything special. The lack of glamour was intentional: it represented that the heart of being High Priest or Priestess was character, not adornments.
The High Priestess turned to those attending, running her eyes over us. Her gaze lingered on me, seeming to burn a hole in my head. I looked away, unable to bear it. Even if she fulfilled her part of the vow tonight, it wouldn’t matter. The binding still kept a noose around my neck, one that only I could loosen.
Papa will be safe to save the Central Network from war if I die, I reassured myself. He’ll be able to move on, to stay busy, to remain afloat.
The thought of giving him another reason to mourn pained me. The nagging headache I’d had all day intensified when the High Priestess began.
“Derek, today you will receive a blessing of Empowerment reserved only for those who take the responsibility to care for the Central Network as High Priest upon their shoulders. It is not a position you may ever leave. In pledging to serve your Network, you give the rest of your life to it.”
“I understand,” he said. His voice rang through the room without hesitation. A few of the Protectors smiled; the rest frowned. The High Priestess held out her hand and a swirl of glowing sapphire dots rose from her palm, whirling around an ebony bracelet on her palm. It was the High Priest’s bracelet, inscribed with the language of the Ancients.
SAC ERO DOS SUM MUS
A nearly identical bracelet rested on the High Priestess’s arm, although hers was silver.
“You will wear this representation of your power every day of your life,” she said. “It can only be removed upon your death. As one of the strongest charms in all of Antebellum, it will provide an extra protection should you need it. The power that comes with it is great. Should anyone try to take it from your wrist while you live, it will kill them.”