by Katie Cross
“Doesn’t belong,” he mumbled. “Not even spelled right.”
I looked slyly up at the embroidered sign I’d hung the night before. The Wits stared down at me, a comforting, fitting reminder of days past. Camille’s memento hung on my chest, next to Mama’s.
“The Guardians found this not long after Mabel’s death,” Papa said, setting a book on the table. Mabel’s Book of Contracts. Or, as we’d discovered, the Almorran Book of Spells.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Papa asked, lowering himself onto a chair next to mine with a grimace. He moved a little slower these days. “Mabel carried it with her everywhere, protecting it.”
“Yes,” I said, running my fingertip along the worn leather binding. “I suppose it explains why she was always so careful with it … but it says it’s the Book of Contracts. She even wrote contracts and bindings in it. How do you think she altered such a powerful book of magic?”
“She could have used a special incantation to manipulate it so it wouldn’t be recognized. No doubt it allowed itself to be protected.”
“But Angelina was the Master until recently, not Mabel. Why wouldn’t Angelina have had the book?”
Papa thought for a moment. “The Master wouldn’t need the book, would she? Mabel had likely been studying from it, learning the magic. Angelina wanted her to follow in her footsteps and rule at her side.”
“If forty years ago, during the Resistance, May had somehow become High Priestess the way she wanted, she would have had the counter magic and the Almorran magic,” I mused out loud. “She could have truly ruled the world.”
Papa was quiet, then grunted. “Huh,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Do you think they knew?” I asked. “Do you think May, Mabel, and Angelina knew that the counter magic was in the Esmelda Scrolls?”
Papa nodded. “I think that’s why they feared Mildred so much and then why they feared me. But I don’t think Mildred knew we had the counter magic, or she would have found some way to tell me before giving her life.”
Mabel had had many reasons to fear Papa—his natural talent at reading witches, his decades of experience working as a Protector, and an uncanny, powerful ability with magic. But his instinct to protect, to hold sacred important things, was what I imagined had scared Mabel the most.
“I don’t think that’s the only reason they feared you,” I said, but he didn’t ask me to expound. The sound of angry shouting came from the hall. Reeves paused mid-stride to listen. Papa and I stared at the door.
“The fairies must go!” Mrs. L cried, her voice shrill. Her shoes tapped in a furious staccato as she strode down the hall past the apartment. “Whoever gave them permission to live in the high turret is going to hear from me! They’re tearing apart the castle, the little hellions. Four tapestries … gone!”
I bit my bottom lip and choked back a laugh. Papa raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“B?” he drawled. “Do you know something about that?”
“No,” I said, laughing. “Not at all.”
“Right,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You know, Letum Wood isn’t what it used to be.” The lingering timbre in his tone told me he had an agenda.
“I know. The West Guards burned a lot of it.”
I’d spent the last two days on the Volare riding over the entirety of the forest, mapping out the destruction, and listening as Letum Wood drew me to the worst places. Merrick and I had started coordinating efforts to clean it up, but it would take time to coax the natural flora and fauna back to vitality.
“It’s going to need a little help,” he said. “In fact, I’m thinking of appointing a caretaker over Letum Wood to clean things up and help it get back on its feet. Although the forest clearly has magic of its own, I think we can assist it back to life.”
Desire grabbed at my heart. Caretaker of Letum Wood? What a wonderful job!
“Oh really?” I said, lifting one eyebrow.
“Someone trustworthy, who isn’t afraid of the forest—which is hard enough to find—who can take care of themselves in a sticky situation but who has that special touch with nature. Sound like anyone you know?”
“Out with it, Papa.”
He grinned, his chocolate eyes lighting up in a way I hadn’t seen since before Mama died. “You want the job?”
My heart beat double time. Take care of Letum Wood? Work in the forest? Run barefoot in the trees?
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“What about … I mean … that will only last for so long. Give it a little while, and Letum Wood will be fine on its own.”
A conspiratorial gleam lit up his eyes. “It will give you the time you need.”
“For what?”
“To train.”
I paused, waiting for him to finish, but he didn’t. “Train for what?”
“Wolfgang, Farah, and I have had a few interesting conversations lately. Wolfgang has a group of twenty witches called the Masters with the same mission as our Protectors, only … they allow women.”
Merrick had told me about the Masters when I visited the North. I straightened. “You have my attention.”
“I’ve been thinking about starting a Sisterhood. You’ve proven you’re capable of intense magic, and you seem to be drawn to danger. It’s unconventional, but all of Antebellum is starting over these days. Women, I’ve realized, are their own force worth reckoning with. A Master named Regina has expressed an interest in training you, but you aren’t ready for her yet. So while you’re learning what you need to know, you can take care of Letum Wood.”
“You’d let me?”
Papa’s face scrunched a little. “I’d say that the risks are decreased now that we have the Book of Spells. There will always be danger, of course, and the Networks still have issues to work out, but I think women can be handy in tight places where men can’t be.”
“I’m in, Papa,” I said. “I’m all in. It’s everything I ever wanted.”
An affectionate smile broke out across his face. “I know, B. And I’m proud of you. I know your mother is too. You’ve become a fine young woman, despite kidnappings and war.” His gaze softened. “And loss.”
I felt a pang of sadness as I thought of Camille. We’d lost others too, I’d later found out. Jackie, Ijet, Stella. Not to mention my loyal friend, Viveet, broken beyond repair. Merrick and I had gathered all Viveet’s remnants and planned to go to the Southern Network to seek Andrei, the witch who had forged her.
I wrapped my arms around Papa. “What are you going to do with it?” I asked, motioning back to the Book of Spells.
He stood and braced one hand on either side of the old tome. “Destroy it,” he said.
“How?”
He gave me a sly smile. “With magic. At the meeting of the Networks tomorrow. An appropriate new beginning, don’t you think?”
I grinned. “Definitely.”
“Now go get dressed,” he said, whacking me in the thigh with the old book. “Your grandfather is coming for dinner in ten minutes.”
The baileys teemed with witches the next day.
Weeks had passed since the final battle, but the slightest hint of smoke still lingered in the air when the wind rustled by. The distant sound of hammers rang from the new Chatham City. The gypsies had been given the privilege of picking their own section of town to start building in, and they hadn’t wasted any time. Lingering members of the Antebellum Army who didn’t want to return to their own Networks had started to help with the construction. Chatham City, it seemed, was already on the rise.
Papa had released the dragons from their responsibility to protect Chatham Castle from Almorran magic. A few of them still circled in the night sky, directly over Sanna and Isadora’s graves, but for the most part they’d retreated. The empty sky felt lonely and wide without their flaming breath and shiny scales.
A delegation of witches representing the Southern Network filled the southeast corner of the
bailey with stoic silence, their silk shirts flapping in the breeze. Wolfgang and Farah represented the Northern Network in the northeast corner of the bailey. The tattered Western Network, which only existed now in small settlements spread out over the desert sands, had no official representative. Their fate would be decided soon enough.
Leda hovered in the shadow of her new employer, High Priestess Scarlett, whose intense eyes darted around the crowd in shrewd assessment. While Scarlett didn’t have the extensive knowledge and experience of a Council Member, Papa had bucked the old traditions yet again and appointed her as High Priestess. Her steady spirit and impeccable organization would help him pull the Network back together. I couldn’t have agreed with his decision more.
Niko stood on the Wall with the rest of the Network leaders. Priscilla lingered not far away, her beautiful red hair chopped close to her head after an encounter with Clavas. Still, she looked beautiful.
But where had Michelle gone?
“Well?” Merrick asked, his voice low. “Do you think that’s Council Member Quinn’s real hair or not? If you’re wrong, you owe me an entire pie.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s still no sugar.”
“I never forget a debt.” He nudged me in the arm. “I hear you may have found a new job, by the way.”
“Did Papa tell you?” I asked, grabbing his arm. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No. Your grandfather. And Wolfgang. Regina is quite excited to work with you. She says you have spunk. I told her you have attitude. They’re different things.”
He dodged a playful jab to the arm.
“And what about you?” I asked with a slight tremor of fear in my stomach. Training with Regina would take me to the North more often, but I’d still live in the Central Network. I didn’t want to go either place without Merrick. “What are your plans? Papa said you can leave the Brotherhood in full fellowship and return to the North if you want.”
His lips puckered on just one side. “I thought about it.”
“And?”
He grabbed my upper arms and pulled me close. His warm breath rolled across my cheek, smelling cool, like mint.
“And I think I have sufficient reason to stay.”
A slow smile spread across my lips. “What reason is that?”
He pulled me closer, as if there had been any space between us. The press of his body against mine had never felt so much like a hug in my life. I nearly melted but forced my knees to keep me upright.
“Oh, a few things,” he said, his lips so close I could feel them graze mine. I closed my eyes. “Or maybe I just really like you, Bianca Monroe.”
The heat of his kiss traveled from my lips to my toes in a hot streak. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders until the rolling sound of a bugle trumpeted across the bailey, calling us to attention.
Papa stood on the Wall near the Gatehouse, his hands spread. “Friends,” he said in the common language, using an incantation to project his voice. “Let us begin.”
The low buzz of conversation faded.
“In the wake of such disastrous times, some witches have called for a total reformation of Antebellum’s political structure.” His eyes flickered to the Southern Network witches and their stern expressions. “To destroy the Networks and start over. The gathered delegation of the appointed leaders of the Networks voted on it this morning.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd again, but Papa ignored them.
“The Networks are our history and our heritage. They’ve survived millennia, and though they’re not perfect, they’ve given us safety and security. Witches made the system imperfect, so the repair falls to us. We have decided to maintain the Network structure.”
Scarlett leaned over to whisper something to Leda. Leda handed her a rolled-up scroll, and a look of surprise flittered across the new High Priestess’s face. I smiled. A more perfect Assistant to the High Priestess would never be found. Leda caught my eye and winked. Although her loss had also been great—like Antebellum’s—she’d resolved to start over, to honor Camille and her brother.
“As a symbol of our newfound unity,” Papa continued. “Let us destroy the Book of Spells and banish all traces of Almorran magic together.”
Marten appeared at Papa’s side, holding the Book of Spells. The Esmelda Scrolls appeared in Papa’s hands. Were we really going to destroy the magic that had been pressing into our lives from the past? The idea was breathtaking. There had been so much destruction and loss that it had never felt like we won anything.
For the first time, the battle against Mabel felt like a victory.
The Esmelda Scrolls unfurled before Papa in a beaming explosion of light. The Book of Spells rose in the air and lingered above the scroll for only a moment before bursting into white flames. The pages curled and fell apart. Within minutes, the once-powerful book was nothing more than a trail of ash disappearing into the wind. Once the Book of Spells disintegrated, the light from the two Esmelda Scrolls faded. They fell, drifting to the Wall, looking no different for having destroyed one of the most dangerous magics to come to our Network.
“It’s done,” Merrick said, pulling me into his arms with a laugh. “We really won this time.”
The little cottage in the woods waited in a pool of sunlight. I crossed over the bridge spanning the babbling brook. Michelle was standing back, staring at Sanna’s old house, when I walked up to her side.
“I thought I’d find you here,” I said. “We missed you at the big meeting just now.”
Michelle let out a long breath.
“We’re just saying goodbye to the old house,” she said with a note of finality in her voice. “It seems weird that Sanna isn’t here.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
She hesitated before nodding. “We’re going deeper into Letum Wood. Nicolas wants to find the place where Sanna and all the other Dragonmasters used to live. There’s a written record of the destruction of the Dragonmasters in the sisterwitches’ old childhood home, hidden deep in Letum Wood. Isadora returned and left it there ten years after they had to desert their homeland during the formation of the Mansfeld Pact.”
“Why didn’t they just bring it?” I asked.
“Isadora had foreseen that they’d send someone to find it after she and Sanna were gone. They didn’t think it was safe to bring it at the time. Angst against the Watchers and Dragonmasters was still high. Anyway, Nicolas wants to spend more one-on-one time with the dragons. Most of them were raised by Sanna. But as you saw, there are many more scattered throughout Letum Wood that she kept track of. We’re going to find them and get to know them. See where else they live and how many there are. Besides,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “It’ll … I need…”
She didn’t have to say it. I knew she was thinking of Camille and all the memories of her left behind at the castle.
“I know,” I said. “I understand. And what about your baby?”
She put a hand on her growing belly, appearing relieved at the change of subject. “Nicolas thinks we’ll find their old home before we have the baby. If we don’t, we’ll transport back.”
Nicolas emerged from the forest, the red dragon close behind.
“You’ll come back though, won’t you? To Chatham, I mean. You aren’t going to wander in the forest forever?” I asked.
Michelle smiled. “Of course not. We’ll come back to live in Sanna’s cottage.”
Nicolas walked up to his wife’s side, but the red lingered back near the trees, her slitted yellow eyes focused on me with intense suspicion. I sighed. Even after we’d fought a war together, some things never changed. Nicolas put a large but gentle hand on Michelle’s elbow.
“It’s time to go,” he said. I threw my arms around Michelle and the brand new life growing inside her, so grateful that they’d come through unscathed.
“Be safe,” I said when I pulled away. “Good luck with the baby. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
She beamed. “I don’t rememb
er much of my own mother, but I took care of my brothers for so long that I can’t wait to have my own family. Isn’t it interesting how it’s all worked out? Despite all we’ve lost and all the pain, somehow life really does just keep going?”
“Yes,” I said with a contented smile. “It really does.”
Michelle and Nicolas entwined their fingers and headed toward the red dragon together. They climbed on her back, sending one last wave my way before the red’s massive wings unfolded, and they took to the sky. The two red babies followed close behind their Mama. I watched them go until they faded into the distance on the wings of a brand new adventure.
Home
Letum Wood seemed to stare back at me when I stood at the beginning of the trail, studying all the new growth.
Months had passed since the battle for Chatham Castle. The forest had been polluted with bodies, weapons, blood, and even dead Clavas. It had taken months to clear the debris. The magic of Letum Wood had whispered directions to me, telling me where to go next and how to salvage what could be saved. The foliage wasn’t the same anymore. Undergrowth was trampled. Trails lost. Saplings hewn down. Soot stained the bottoms of the giant trees. But the high canopy didn’t fail. Despite the destructive power of Almorran fire, Letum Wood continued on.
Just like the rest of us.
I stepped on the trail, soothed by the dirt between my toes. A slight chill in the air heralded the beginning of winter. I closed my eyes and pulled in a long, sweet breath of the tangy air.
There was still enough warmth left in the day for one more run.
Come, the magic whispered, stirring up my heart. For you belong to us.
I sprinted through Letum Wood, my legs flying with reckless, glorious speed. Leaves whipped past me. Sunlight spilled through the natural awning in patches, illuminating a few spots of ground. The comforting smell of wood and earth filled my nostrils.
Home, I thought with a smile. I’ve finally come home.
