Miss Mabel's School for Girls (27 page)

She didn’t need to say it. The written test must have barely met the minimum standard, if that. Only my ability to do magic would save me now. I sank back to the bed with quivering knees.

She was going to test me for the Esbat
at
the Esbat.

Is this what drowning feels like?
I thought, then banished the thought with a shake of my head.
No, don’t think about it. Confidence.

But my hands still trembled as I sat there, waiting.

The Anteroom

T
he gloom from yesterday’s storm hung in the air like an unwanted visitor. It never settled, always moving past the wet school in clouds of fog.

“Miss Mabel has gone ahead of you,” Miss Bernadette explained as we walked outside together. “You’ll ride to the Esbat alone. She said to tell you she would meet you there.”

An old man drifted out of the vapor on spindly legs, walking around a black carriage with large wheels and golden trim. A single fuzzy horse stood in front of it. The man’s white hair stuck out over his ears like banners, but the top of his head was bald. He nodded to Miss Bernadette, but kept his pale blue eyes averted.

“Bianca, this is Augustus.”

“Merry meet,” I said with a polite curtsy. He nodded but kept moving. She gave me a soft smile.

“He’s not used to much formality. Good luck tonight, Bianca.”

Somehow I smiled back, then climbed into the carriage. The door closed, and the horse started forward. I stared out for awhile, watching the stalks of bare trees and shadows where the fog did not move. But my mind strayed far from the haunted appearance of Letum Wood and into deep dungeons and castle walls that I did not know.

We passed through three very small villages, comprised of cottages, pale torchlight, and dirt roads. Letum Wood towered high over them, a weathered canopy of leaves and twigs that blocked the gray sky. A few girls my age stood on the side of the dirt road, waiting for us to pass. I watched them with envy, and to make myself feel better, slipped my shoes and stockings off. Then I unbound my hair from the restrictive bun at the nape of my neck and settled in with a sigh for the duration of the ride.

Chatham City, stationed within eyesight of the High Priestess’s Chatham Castle, was the largest city in the Network. Evening drew close by the time we sped through it. A man walked down the cobblestone street lighting torches, and women hurried by with woven baskets on their hips. Others wore elegant dresses, with silk bustles and skirts. Neither Grandmother nor Mama ever went as far as Chatham City, but I’d heard stories about it. The sprawling expanse seemed to never end, with thick air and brick buildings stacked so close together only the narrowest alleys remained. The air smelled like soot and burnt sugar. 

“Almost there,” Augustus called as we turned onto a long cobblestone road. Chatham Castle twinkled in the distance, set against the late blue sky. I pressed a hand to my stomach to quell the flutter of fear and watched the distance between me and my possible doom close.

“Here we are.”

I stepped out of the carriage when we rolled to a stop so Augustus wouldn’t have to work his way down. 

“It’s okay,” I called up to him. “You can stay up there.”

The gatehouse to Chatham Castle was a dominating, intense presence. Turrets stabbed the night sky on either side of the ancient stone wall like giant spears. The double-door iron gate leading to the inner bailey housed several Guardians, the soldiers of the Central Network. Flames from wide, shallow bowls danced high, growing as tall as my body. The gray walls looked dull in their expansive light.

Four Guardians stood on either side of the gate. Young men, it appeared, with somber faces. All of them stared at me.

“Well,” Augustus nodded towards it with a jaunty cry. “Have at ‘er.”

“Wait,” I stopped him as he lifted the reins, scanning the area, and glimpsing the unfriendly stare of the Guardians. “Where’s Miss Mabel?”

He gave me an odd look.

“She’s inside.”

“What do you mean inside?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain even.

“Don’t you know how to get in? Miss Mabel told me to bring you right to the gatehouse. Said you’d know what to do from here.”

“She’s not coming for me?”

“Course not!” he laughed, but it fell into a perplexed expression. “Why would she? Don’t you know why you’re here?”

“I guess I do,” I replied, trying to convince myself. I’d learned enough to know how to get into Chatham but never thought I’d have to do it on my own. Newcomers had to be escorted to the Esbat, which meant Miss Mabel waited inside for me, out of the chill.

One would hope.

“Better go then,” Augustus said, inclining his head towards the intimidating gate. “Those Guardians are eyeing you. They won’t let you stick around here for very long. Makes them nervous.” He clucked his tongue and started down the road, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll be at the pub in the meantime.” 

I balled my hands into fists at my side to contain my fury at Miss Mabel. “Yes,” I said under my breath, leaving a puff of fog in the air. The carriage pulled away, clattering on the cobblestones as it flew back down the drive. “Go while you can, before she ensnares you into one of her many traps and you never escape with your soul.”

Miss Mabel had done this on purpose. Flaunting me before the Guardians meant they’d follow me into the trees when I pursued the hidden door that would let me into Chatham, catch me, and throw me in the dungeon for trespassing Her Highness’s grounds. If I had known Miss Mabel wouldn’t be waiting for me at the gatehouse, I would have left Augustus in Chatham City at his pub and trekked out on foot. 

No coincidence, I was sure.

Augustus was too far away to call him back, and, at any rate, that wouldn’t do me any good. I hesitated, standing at the edge of the light flickering across the stones, unsure of my next step. One Guardian took a step forward, his hands folded in front of him, his eyes narrow, assessing. His look said it all.

Decide what you’re going to do, or we will decide for you.

I swallowed, then spun on my heels and ran into Letum Wood like a frightened child. When I looked over my shoulder, two of the Guardians had disappeared. Soon enough they’d be hidden in the trees, waiting for the perfect opportunity to nab me. It wouldn’t take them long. My time to act was on a dying chain, disappearing one link at a time.

There was only one way to avoid the dungeon right now, and I faced it with grim resolve. It involved magic that, technically, a first-year student shouldn’t know. 

Transportation.

Miss Mabel couldn’t have known I was able do it. The Network school system didn’t even offer it as an option because of the advanced nature of the magic involved. And in the hands of someone not confident enough in their ability to do it, it was dangerous. Fortunately I had enough confidence but not much time.

If I transported, I may have to explain it to Miss Mabel. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t make it to the Esbat, and I’d owe thirteen years of my life to my mortal enemy. The sudden rustle of wind, as gentle as a breath, made every muscle in my back freeze. A slight crack to my right, close to the ground, made the decision for me.

The Guardians had found me.

I instantly dropped into a ball, flying through the incantation under my breath. I felt the tug of a hand close around my cloak, a guttural shout, and then I fell.

The wind rushed my eyes, pressure bore down on my chest, and I stumbled forward, almost running into a brick wall.

It worked. I stood on the far eastern side of Chatham Castle, where the trees and brush grew close and intimate, too thick and gnarled to make it through on foot by trespassers who thought they had the courage to try.

My hand pressed against the wall of the castle to steady me. I tilted my head back and gazed up. The flying wall never ended, sending my vision into a dizzy whirl. The lightheaded feeling didn’t abate when I looked away.

The Guardians were still watching me, I could feel it. They would have followed the impression of my magic the second I disappeared. Their talents for that were unmatched in all of Antebellum. Not even the Eastern Network trained their forces so well, and they were the richest of the Networks.

I hoped that now that I was standing at this particular spot, the Guardians would give me some space. Transporting here could only mean that I came for the Esbat.

All the same, I didn’t feel like pressing my luck. I pushed the dark hair out of my eyes and began to walk along the wall. A pressing drape of nettles and thorny bushes allowed only enough space to walk sideways without snagging my hair, which I did twice.

The stones on the outer castle wall appeared to be perfect, especially when I stood this close, but they weren’t. My fingertips pressed into them as I moved past. Once the texture changed, becoming slightly gritty, I stopped. The subtle sandy veneer lasted for three full bricks across and twelve high.

A skinny door.

Gathering my courage, I repeated the ancient words that I’d memorized two weeks earlier. I’d been reciting the secret spells to myself every day in each of the three languages, just in case. The textured stones drifted back a few feet without a sound. I slipped inside and they closed behind me.

I stood in a small room, barely wide enough to turn around in. Behind me the wall became a single smooth slab, with no evidence of a doorway. The chilly air hit my throat with a damp gust and I shivered. A pale green torch burned at the top of four stone steps, illuminating the only door. The emerald flame would never fade out unless the castle ceased to exist, an eternal companion to the sturdy walls.

This was the anteroom. If I did anything wrong, I’d be trapped here until someone else came through. Since Mabel ensured I arrived late to the meeting, that meant it would be another month.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Miss Mabel would intervene or just let me die with a sigh of regret that yet another student failed her. Isadora was not here to see, to protect me. I imagined some great tragedy hitting the Central Network and delaying the Esbat for months. Years, even. Then they’d find my bones here in the anteroom, one arm stretched to the wooden door.

I shook off the shiver in my spine, annoyed for spooking myself.
Pull it together, Bianca.
Well, there was no better way to disappoint Miss Mabel than to arrive at the Esbat, ready to conquer.

Four metal hoops lay in a row on the heavy wooden door. Every hoop sat above a different triangle, one of each of the alchemy symbols. Air. Fire. Water. Earth. If I used the wrong hoop to knock, even once, I would not be admitted.

Without hesitation, I grabbed the second and third and slammed them down at the same time. Two different tones resonated into the castle. Fire and water together made the unity symbol, which was an upside down and right side up triangle pressed together.

To my relief, the door groaned open. A butler stood just behind it. His perfectly starched uniform smelled like powder. Light from the torch next to me glinted off his slick black hair. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me with dull eyes.

“I need to speak with the High Priestess. I’m here on business,” I said.

His forehead furrowed.

“What proof do you have?”

My heart jumped into my throat, and I fought back the urge to smack my forehead. Proof. Of course he wanted proof. Why wouldn’t he? Certainly I didn’t look suspicious at all, a lone sixteen-year-old entering an ancient castle by a secret door. There was no way to make this less awkward.

Unfortunately, I had no proof. No Esbat mark, no reason for him to allow me in. Uncertain whether my empty circlus would help or not, I exposed my right wrist. He glanced at it, hesitated, then pulled the door towards him just enough to allow me admittance. He wrinkled his upper lip, and I knew that he had no idea what to do with me.

The room I stepped into consisted of gray stones and a ceiling that curved into a peak at the top. A crimson carpet covered floor, infused with golden threaded designs. Banners hung along the walls in blood red and gold, a large C drawn in the middle, a hat-tip to the Central Network flag and colors. Statues stood at random intervals in shallow bays. Well-lit by torches and candles, the area had very little shadow. My eyes had to adjust to the light.

The butler motioned for me to stay where I stood. On his way to the door, he ran into a short, slender woman in a gray dress. They spoke in low tones, casting uneasy glances my way. When he left, the woman approached me. Her hair hung in limp blonde curls on her head, held in place by a large black pin. Rigid, and not very welcoming, she stopped a few feet away and looked me over with a haughty glance. Too late, I realized I’d left my hair down and my shoes in the carriage. No wonder the butler thought I looked odd. I pulled my toes under the skirt, silently berating myself.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Miss Mabel’s lessons came back to assist me.

If you are outside the Council room or if the doors to the Council room are unsealed, you should never say your name or reason for being there. Spies could be anywhere and may take many forms.