by Katie Cross
“Merrick, I—”
“At first I couldn’t handle it,” he said, as if he had to get the words out. “I couldn’t sleep, could barely function. I didn’t want to eat or talk. Wolfgang threw me in a lake in the middle of winter and told me to snap out of it. After that, I trained even harder and made it into the Masters at eighteen. Wolfgang came over one winter night and presented a plan to my mom. He wanted to send me to live in the lower Networks, to monitor what was going on, to make sure no one posed a threat to us. It would be my first real task as a Master, and a relatively easy one. Mother agreed. She said I’d remain lost among the ghosts if I stayed.”
“So you left your family and moved down to the Central Network.”
“Yes. I watched, listened, reported back to Wolfgang. Nothin’ traitorous or bad. We have Masters in all the Networks, keepin’ eyes open, watchin’ to see if there are any threats to us. But I ended up likin’ the Central Network, the freedom of bein’ on my own. When a chance to join the Guardians opened up, I decided to take it.”
My eyes widened. I already knew this about him—he’d had to be a Guardian before he could be a Protector—but I felt as if the information was new. Like the stars, my perspective on Merrick had shifted.
“You just up and joined?” I asked, my mouth slack. “Did Wolfgang allow that?”
Merrick nodded. “He thought it was a good idea. There was enough quiet turmoil in the Central Network hidden beneath the surface to justify goin’ deeper into it. It’s pretty easy to get into Guardian trainin’. It’s harder to stay in. Shortly after startin’, I met your father. Even though I tried to hide my skills, I couldn’t entirely. Tiberius became suspicious of me.”
“Is that why he hates you?”
A slight smile slipped across Merrick’s face, filled with sardonic amusement. “We had a few spars durin’ trainin’ that angered him, yes. Anyway, Derek noticed my abilities, and I made it into the Brotherhood at twenty-two. Here I am at twenty-three, back home.”
My chest tightened again. Merrick had infiltrated the most selective squad of witches in the Central Network. How is that possible? Wouldn’t Papa have known somehow?
“Did you … I mean as a Protector, you—”
“Never gave Wolfgang any information protected by the creed of the Brotherhood,” he said, already anticipating my question. “No. Wolfgang wouldn’t have wanted it unless it affected our safety. But the North has lain quiet for so long that I rarely heard information regardin’ us, just the rumors of war comin’ from the West.”
“Oh.”
“Mabel attacked with the Clavas the very night I made it into the Brotherhood, makin’ it more important than ever that I stay. Wolfgang wanted me there as a semi-permanent set of eyes so we didn’t get important information too late. Farah takes the security of the Northern Network seriously.”
I let go of the breath I’d been holding. No wonder Farah was so informed on events in the lower Networks.
“I noticed that,” I murmured.
The North’s isolation was a blessing and a curse. It protected them but could leave them in the dark until it was too late. Keeping tabs on the lower Networks made sense. I shook my head, hardly able to sort through the conglomeration of emotions.
Merrick rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Trust me, B. The last thing I wanted to do was lie. You weren’t even … you weren’t even in my plans.”
The way he said it, with a touch of vulnerability in his voice, lit a fire in my stomach. I stared at the stars, my knees pulled into my chest. It was difficult to know what to say. I felt like I’d lost my best friend and replaced him with someone infinitely more complicated. In the end, Merrick was a Northern Network witch. After the war ended, he’d likely return to his original loyalties. Where would that leave us? Was there even an us to worry about?
“I couldn’t tell you, B,” he said, his voice low. “I had signed a bindin’. Wolfgang gave me permission to break it when things escalated with Angelina, but only to your father. I wanted to tell you everythin’. I even asked permission to tell you at the same time, but Wolfgang denied it.”
I turned my head, biting the inside of my cheek as I studied his face, thrown into sharp shadows in the darkness. When it came to secrets and bindings, I well understood the weight of secrecy. His eyes, a deep emerald now, looked wary and uncertain in a way I’d never seen.
“I know, Merrick,” I said. “It was out of your control. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
He smiled, slow and quiet, like the drip of rain on a summer day. His whole story formed a tie between us, like two ends of a rope pulling a knot closer together, making it stronger.
“Thanks, B.”
“Thanks for telling me. I mean … I-I’m just glad it’s worked out between us,” I said, biting my bottom lip with a sheepish smile. “I, uh, missed you more than I expected.”
A warm breeze stirred my hair, whisking it out of my face. His gaze drifted toward my lips and flickered back up to my eyes. It wasn’t a pithy romantic gesture but a charged, intense moment that made my stomach flutter.
“Me too,” he said.
“So what now?” I asked. “Where do we go from here?”
His jaw tightened. “You go back home to the Central Network,” he said. “And I’m goin’ to the West.”
My back stiffened. “What?”
“Zane wants me to join him in the mornin’.” He looked away, out at the dense network of stars overhead. “He said he needs help keepin’ track of everythin’ goin’ on there now. Mabel’s furious. She’s appointed a new Head of Guardians. Advance West Guard teams are startin’ to show up in the Borderlands, likely to prepare for an invasion.”
Oh, fate. That tricky devil. Not only had I provoked Mabel into an invasion, but Merrick would be in enemy territory.
“That’s great for you,” I said, swallowing back the hot rise of fear. “This is the kind of mission every Protector—and Master, I suppose—dreams about, right? Infiltrating enemy territory. Spying on the opposition.”
“Maybe,” he said, and his breath caressed my cheek, making me aware of how close our faces were. “Maybe for Protectors who don’t have somethin’ to lose.”
“Do you have something to lose?”
“I hope so.”
He grabbed my chin with one hand and wrapped the other around my neck. Our lips pressed together in a heated, hard kiss. My eyes closed as a shot of fire spiked through my limbs like lightning. He smelled like evergreen and forest and freedom. With his strong arm around me, I’d never feel frightened again. Once the kiss ended, his lips hovered just a breath away from mine.
“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for a while,” he said. My hand was tangled in his hair. My lips burned. I wanted to press a hand to them to make sure they didn’t fly away.
“Took you long enough,” I quipped, breathless.
His expression sobered. “I like you, B. More than I should. You’re different. Strong as hell. Not to mention you’re probably the only witch I know who could put up with me. Let’s try this out. You and me.”
His words didn’t exactly ring with romantic tension, but when he dragged a soft knuckle down my cheek, it left a line of fire.
“I suppose courting between two witches like us would never really be romantic, would it?” I said with a wry smile.
He laughed. “I’m not sure either of us knows how. Is this your way of letting me down?”
I grinned. “It’s my way of saying yes.”
“It’s not just because every other guy is scared you’ll beat him in a sword fight, is it?” he asked as he lifted my chin with a bent knuckle.
I laughed. “Definitely. My options are very limited. It’s either you or Tiberius.”
The lazy, slow grin returned. “Good,” he whispered, stretching his coiled fingers out to frame one side of my face. “Because I’ve already beat him.”
I melted into his kiss, pushing aside all thoughts of him leaving, the
Northern and Central Networks, and our place in them. The feel of his warm skin under my fingers and the hot shingles of the roof at my back momentarily erased my fear that I was growing attached to someone who would just leave in the end. Although I couldn’t predict the future, I knew, in the deepest part of myself, that Merrick wasn’t a witch who would leave.
The underside of a velvet canopy hung above us, reminding me that sometimes life was all a matter of perspective.
I’m Back
The air in the Central Network hung over my head like a wet, muggy blanket. The climate was nowhere near as pleasant as the Northern Network, but it had never felt so much like home. I drew in a great lungful of the humid air early the next morning after transporting to Stella’s balcony from Balmberg Castle.
“I’m back!” I cried, spinning in wide circles with my arms flung out. Letum Wood flashed in the distance, alternating with the gray wall of Chatham Castle and the blue sky soaring overhead. “I’m back!”
High Priestess Stella waited for me, standing off to the side with her hands folded in front of her. She spread her arms and rushed forward. “Bianca!” she cried. “We are so happy you’re back safe!”
I hurried into her embrace, grateful to feel her warm hug, like my grandmother come back to life. Her light auburn hair shone in the bright light. She wore a long-sleeved dress with a high neck ruffled by lace. As always, she looked lovely. Mildred had never had the true appearance of a High Priestess in terms of apparel or grace, but with Mildred it didn’t matter. She commanded respect with her no-nonsense attitude. Stella brought a regal dignity back to the role. She pulled away, looking me over from head to toe.
“And you’re not hurt?” she asked, running a hand down my hair. “You came out of it all right?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, holding onto her hands. “Just fine.”
She let out a steady breath, smiling. “That is wonderful news.”
“Bianca?”
My boss, Marten, the Ambassador, appeared just behind her. He hurried toward us with an eager, relieved smile, his bald head gleaming in the morning light.
“Marten!”
He pulled me into his wiry arms, drawing in a heavy breath. “It’s wonderful to see you,” he said, holding me close. “I’ve been so worried.”
“I appreciate you taking care of Papa.” I pulled away, giving Marten and Stella a knowing look. “Thank you for putting up with him. I’m certain it was the two of you that kept him sane.”
Stella motioned to Marten with a hand. “It was all Marten,” she said. “He knows how to deal with stubborn witches. There’s a reason he’s been Ambassador for so long.”
“Thank you,” I said, squeezing his hand one last time. “I was so worried he’d do something rash.”
Marten lifted his eyebrows, showing the worry lines in his forehead. “He almost did. We all almost did. But sanity prevailed. I believe the habit of thinking things through logically instead of emotionally is a side effect of loving Mildred all my life,” he said with a wistful smile.
Stella chuckled, pulling away with a step toward the balcony door. “We’d love to keep you to ourselves all day and hear about your little trip to the West,” she said, “but we have a few things to take care of, and you have two anxious friends waiting for you.”
Her eyes darted to the glass door. Leda and Camille impatiently waited on the other side. Camille wore a light pink summer dress, her hair cascading in dark blonde ringlets. Her apple-red cheeks blazed with color. Leda wore a tasteful blue dress, her hair swooped into a bun, like usual. They had never looked so beautiful.
“Your father is in a meeting, but he’ll be out soon. I’ll inform him that you’ve returned.” Stella smiled, squeezing my fingers. “I’ll tell him you’re in the Witchery.”
“Thank you, Stella,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
“I must go as well,” Marten said. “I’m meeting with Niko to update him on the recent developments with the North. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” he asked, offering his arm to Stella.
“Yes, of course.”
He smiled warmly, stepping toward the glass doors. “It will be wonderful to have you back. I look forward to hearing you complain about all the letters I left unopened for you to sort through. I’ve never hated my quiet office so much as when you weren’t in it, complaining about not being able to run.”
I laughed. I’d been gone for over three weeks. Surely he hadn’t hoarded that much correspondence. “Sure, Marten, sure.”
He exchanged a sober glance with Stella. “I’m quite serious. I know how much you love sorting the mail, so I left all of it for you.”
My joy plummeted.
“What?”
He winked and continued on his way, humming a bright tune under his breath and dispelling my fears. The glass doors burst open, spilling my two best friends onto the balcony.
“Bianca!” Camille cried, her arms outstretched, tears already on her cheeks. She collided with me so fast it nearly knocked both of us to the ground. “I was so scared!”
Leda encircled both of us with her skinny arms. When they pulled away, Leda managed a smile. While she’d always been pale, she looked white as a sheet. Her normally bright eyes—one brown and one olive green—were muted and fatigued. I reached out and touched her fraying hair with a little breath of surprise.
“You look terrible, Leda. Is everything all right?”
“I know,” she said with a sigh. “It’s been a madhouse since you left. But that doesn’t matter. You’re back.”
“She’s been trying so hard to see what could happen to you,” Camille said, wiping at her tears with her fingers. Her lips tightened. “Among other things.”
Leda pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Camille. “I didn’t try as much as she’s making it sound,” she said. “But I have been trying. You were too far away, and Mabel’s too strong. I’m no Watcher, that’s for sure. I just have the Foresight Curse, but I thought I could help. I just … couldn’t bear the thought of you not coming back.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Camille said with a dismissive wave. “Isadora’s back! She can help out more. Well … if she wakes up, anyway.”
“What did you say?” I grabbed Camille’s arm. “Isadora’s back?”
“Yes!”
“Zane freed Isadora?”
Camille beamed as if it were her own personal victory. “While you were in the North with Mabel the second time, he went after Isadora. Perfect, isn’t it?” Her voice lowered. “Although we aren’t supposed to tell anyone. Leda and I overheard the news a few minutes ago while we were waiting for you to arrive.”
“Isadora just returned yesterday,” Leda said, frowning. “She hasn’t been here long, and she hasn’t woken up yet. Zane said that transforming back into a witch shocked her old body. They’re not sure she’ll wake up at all.”
“She’ll wake up,” Camille said, but it sounded forced. “She has to. We need her.”
My head spun with questions. How did Leda and Camille know about my visit to the North? How had Zane rescued Isadora? I brushed the questions aside to deal with later. For now, I was home.
“Let’s not talk about that now,” I said, taking Camille’s hands. “Can we just … go to the Witchery and stuff ourselves full of food? I want to hear everything that’s happened while I was gone.”
“I’d love to stuff myself full of food,” Leda said, putting a hand on her stomach. “It’s hard to come by anything that isn’t porridge or dry bread anymore. The fighting Guardians are taking most of the food from the castle.”
In a rare turn of events, Camille took over the situation. “Don’t you worry,” she said, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows. “I’ll get us some food. Just give me twenty minutes. Leda, you stay with Bianca while she cleans up, and I’ll meet you in the Witchery.”
Camille disappeared, transporting to some unknown place, leaving just Leda and me on Stella’s private balcony. Behind Leda
’s usual sharp expression lay a slight sheen of moisture.
“I’m glad you’re back, Bianca,” she said, running a hand over her face. “I wasn’t hopeful. How you’ve managed to escape Mabel so many times, I’ll never figure out.”
“Me either.”
“Are you going to tell us about it?”
“Of course.”
She looked at me with narrowed eyes and a suspicious hesitance I wasn’t sure how to read. “I mean … was it bad? Did she … ah…”
“Torture me?”
She blushed. “Yes.”
For a half-second, I remembered the sting of Mabel’s slap, her hands around my throat, the agony of entering her mind, and the sheer terror of waking up to her cheetah drooling just above me.
“Not really,” I said, sensing that Leda didn’t really want to know the truth. “She didn’t hurt me.”
“Good,” she said, her face relaxing.
“You must tell me now instead of making me wait,” I said, leaning forward. “I’ve been dying to know what happened with you and Rupert ever since I left. Is he still working with you? Has he asked you to be hand fasted to him again?” My eyes widened. “You haven’t agreed, have you?”
Leda sighed. “Old Rupert left, the poor chap,” she said. “He only lasted a week after I turned him down. And no, I absolutely will not marry him.”
Poor chap? Since when did Leda ever show compassion for Rupert?
“Are you working as Jansson’s Assistant?”
A stricken look crossed her face. “No,” she said, looking at her hands. “I … I don’t have a job right now.”
“No?”
She hesitated. “No. I’ve been helping care for the wounded ever since Jansson let me go when Rupert left.” She sucked in a deep breath. “My … my brother died.”
My heart faltered for a moment with a painful flutter in my chest. Tears filled her eyes. She sniffled.
“Your brother?” I whispered.
“The one who joined the Guardians this summer. In a battle in the Southern Covens. He choked under one of those red clouds the West Guards send. He didn’t even make it off the battlefield.”
