by Katie Cross
“Merry meet, Bianca, darling. I had a feeling you’d be back.”
I stepped into the room, fists clenched, paying wary attention to the building magic in my chest. Just being near her made me want to rake my fingernails across her face.
“Miss Mabel.”
“Oh, you are quite angry, aren’t you? Angelina must have found your nerve, did she? She always does.”
Miss Mabel moved into the dim light, wrapping a bumpy white hand around the bars. Something of her original beauty still lingered in her bright eyes and cold smile, though I hardly recognized it behind the wrinkled old face she’d always hidden from the world. I let a blip of power slip away from my heart and pressed it all into her. Miss Mabel flew back, slamming into the wall behind her with a trickle of stone and dust in her hair.
“Cut the jokes. We need to make an agreement.”
Her eyes gleamed with a maniacal enjoyment I’d seen before. “Are you here to set me free after all? How delightful. I thought this day would come.”
I stared at her with equal parts loathing, equal parts hope. She could help me save Papa, perhaps the Central Network—for a while—though she’d want to destroy both herself later.
“Come, Bianca, don’t look so murderous. Although the hatred I feel from you is delightful.” She shuddered with pleasure.
“You’re nothing like your mother,” I said, unsure of which was worse: Miss Mabel’s cynical amusement or Angelina’s vapid indifference.
Miss Mabel tilted her head back and laughed, her scraggly, uneven hair falling onto bony shoulders. “Thank you for the compliment. I worked hard to avoid becoming like Mother dearest.”
I reached out to touch the prison bars, feeling faint in my heart for just a moment. Release the murderer who killed my mother and the High Priestess? Who also threatened to destroy all I loved? A deep breath, and a renewed vision of Papa screaming, increased my courage. Isadora had told me what I needed to do to release the magic.
“I’m here to set you free.”
Miss Mabel withdrew, slinking back to the shadows.
“Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I want to leave,” she said in a bored, singsong voice. “I find the confinement relaxing after so many years in a school full of noisy, emotional teenage girls.”
“Right,” I muttered. “Because you had so much interaction with the students.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, Bianca, but I’d rather stay here.”
Her rotting smile still shone in the deep darkness. She was playing her cards. She wanted me to beg, to plead, to put the power in her hands. Two could play that game. Miss Mabel had no idea what was going on in the outside world, which meant she had no idea how much she stood to lose tonight. If her hatred for Angelina ran as deep as Isadora suspected, I could use it against her.
“Fine,” I said, pulling away. “I’ll leave you to rot in prison while Angelina takes over the castle tonight.”
She sucked in a breath, fighting between her interest and her desire to prove I had nothing important to say. Her curiosity won out. “Oh really?”
I met her sharp gaze. “Really. Mother dearest is moving forward without you. The West Guards are attempting to cross the Western Covens as we speak, and the Factios are tearing apart Chatham City. Even the Southern Network is attacking. Chatham City will fall soon enough, which means so will the castle and the Central Network. Apparently she doesn’t need you around. She’ll be the greatest witch in all of Antebellum without your aid.”
Miss Mabel’s eyes flashed. “The West Guards have pushed into the Central Network without my command, have they?” she murmured, her eyes brewing a hot, blue storm. “Poor little Dane has been a naughty boy.”
She stepped back into the dim light of the torch flickering lazily behind me, as if it, too, were weary of its imprisonment beneath the earth. She studied me for one breathless moment, the cogs behind her eyes whirring. “What do you want from me, Bianca?”
“I want you to kill your mother.”
Miss Mabel’s thin gray eyebrows rose. “Is this the first time we’ve wanted the same thing?”
“And I want you to save my father,” I added.
Her face fell, but a smile still lingered in the corners of her eyes. “No, I suppose we don’t want the same thing. For a moment there I thought you and I could fight together, you know. A real dynamic duo we’d make. Just how dynamic you have no idea, for there’s much I suspect you still don’t know about yourself. The offer still stands.”
“I’ll die before I fight alongside you.”
“Now that can be arranged. What trouble has Derek gotten himself into?”
“Angelina is holding him hostage in exchange for you.”
“Ah!” she cried. “So Mother does want to see me. She adores me, you know. She doesn’t even realize how much I loathe her for abandoning me on the doorstep of Grandmother’s school. I suppose now is as good a time as any to defeat her.”
She spoke idly, more to herself than me.
“How convenient that you want her dead as much as I do.”
“No,” she hissed, her eyes flaring. “I want it infinitely more.”
“I’ll only set you free on one condition,” I said, venturing closer until I stood within reach of her nasty hands. The wrinkles around her eyes cast deep shadows.
“You’re starting to sound more like me, Bianca. I’d be proud except I really don’t care about you.”
“I’ll release you from prison and go with you to meet Angelina if you vow to transport Papa back here before Angelina kills him.”
“You’ll set me free whether I make the vow or not. If you don’t, Angelina will kill him and take over the world, and you and all your friends will burn in the painful fires of Almorran magic.”
I leaned into the bars, separating our faces by a mere breath.
“And you’ll die watching your mother achieve what you weren’t good enough for. She’s taking over Antebellum without you, and she’ll rule it without you as well. Are you ready, after an entire lifetime of living under her thumb, to watch her achieve greatness as the ruler of Antebellum? She will gain everything she wants, while you remain in this cold prison cell. Make the vow, or I’ll leave you here to rot in your own failure for the rest of your life.”
Miss Mabel snarled, but I didn’t retreat. We met each other fury for fury.
“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll make the vow to save Derek, but I can’t say that I’ll be able to save you. No doubt Angelina wants to rip all the hair from your scalp piece by piece.” She smiled coyly. “She’s done that to witches before, you know.”
She held out her arm through the bars of the dungeon cell. I stared at her skinny wrist, the bones and blood beneath it. Her veins appeared a bright blue-green underneath her translucent skin. I took her cold arm in my grasp and suppressed the urge to release it.
Sensing my imminent use, power curled again in my chest, warm and reassuring. I was the one in control here.
“I vow to take you to Angelina. In return, you must transport my father back to his personal apartment here at Chatham Castle and away from harm the moment we arrive.”
I would have added an addendum and you may not kill me, but a vow didn’t work on multiple lines. I could only specify one promise on each side, which meant I’d throw myself at the mercy of fate.
“Oh, you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you? I’m glad I could teach you something. Very good, specific details to include, or I would have sent sweet Derek into the hands of the Factios leaders.” She smiled. “I accept.”
Instead of the usual warmth spiraling from my fingertips and through my arm, a telltale cold slipped into my veins. It wound through my arm and ended at my chest, blossoming in a chilly explosion. Nothing good could come from Miss Mabel. Our hands broke apart when the magic faded.
“What about you?” Miss Mabel asked with false levity, one eyebrow raised. “If Derek escapes, you can be sure Angelina won’t let you get away
.”
I ground my teeth together, pulled Viveet half out of her sheath, and slipped the pad of my little finger along the sharp blade. A bubble of blood popped up from under the skin.
“That’s something I’ll deal with later,” I said, grabbing the lock in my hand, ensuring the bloody tip of my finger rested on the top.
Miss Mabel grinned. “You and your family have always been so self-sacrificing, you silly witch,” she murmured, her eyes alight. “Saving your own life is something you’ll need to figure out. Angelina doesn’t take kindly to being preempted.”
I used silent magic to activate the incantation Isadora had shown me from the ancient grimoire dating back to the Mortal Wars. My blood dripped down the lock’s face. The air vibrated around us, pulsing in long waves that hurt my ears. A wall of air moved from my feet and up, stirring our hair. The incantation pulled the magic it required from me like it removed part of my soul. Once I finished, the lock broke apart in my hand, disintegrating into dust. I pulled the door open, trying to hide the wave of weakness that overcame my body.
“You’re free,” I croaked.
Miss Mabel smiled and stepped through the door. I moved back to avoid touching her. “Indulge me for a moment,” she said. “It’s not classy to defeat one’s enemy looking like this. Oh, magic. How delightful. I’ve missed it!”
Within seconds her skin glowed with bubbles and pockets of light that broke out across her arms and face. The wrinkles tightened. The crow’s feet disappeared. Her lips became plump and lush and cherry red again. Rays of light slipped down her hair and shot out the ends until it lay in full, silky blonde splendor. Her bony shoulders disappeared, as did the limp rag she’d worn. A beautiful sapphire brocade dress replaced it, slipping all the way down to her dainty feet clad with new sandals.
When she turned to face me again, I saw the same sultry Miss Mabel I’d always known. Seeing her in her full, lustrous glory made her seem like an illusion, not a real witch.
“Now I’m ready, Bianca,” she said with a contented sigh. “Shall we go meet Mother dearest? I know right where she’ll be.”
I braced myself for the worst. “I’m ready. Transport me with you since you have so much power.”
She grinned. “I do. Isn’t it wonderful? Hold your breath. It’s a long ride over.”
I landed on a soft beach of sand.
The sharp tang of salty air made my eyes water as it burned my nostrils. My finger still stung from the cut, but a healing incantation had stopped the bleeding.
“This way,” Miss Mabel said, motioning with a tilt of her head to the right. Magnolia Castle loomed off to the left, its many floors illuminated with torchlight. Shadows shifted inside, servants moving about their business, I assumed. I wondered if they knew who Isobel really was, if her betrayal extended to the family she had once seemed to love. For some reason, knowing she’d betrayed them as well as me softened my shame. I wasn’t her only victim.
Waves lapped at my ankles, soaking the hem of my dress. The soft spray of stars in the midnight sky would have reassured me if it had been any other night. Tonight, they felt vast and cold.
We started walking toward the high cliffs whose sheer rock faces plunged into the depths of the ocean. The waves broke in explosions of salty white spray. A familiar foreboding shrank my pounding heart in my chest. Miss Mabel stopped at the mouth of a cave hidden in the many crevices of rock jutting out from the cliff. The sand lay undisturbed, as if a foot had never trodden it.
She sent me a sidelong glance. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?”
She smiled. “I’ve been ready for this moment my whole life,” she replied easily, moving into the cave. “Follow me. Hopefully you don’t mind wet feet. The tide will be moving into this cave soon, so it will only get deeper.”
The darkness swallowed us in moments. I couldn’t see and shuffled through the ankle-deep water under only a vague impression of where Miss Mabel moved in front of me. The brush of a cold, wet wall against my left shoulder startled me at first, but I put my hand out as a guide and followed it. The curve of the cave steered us to the right, and I paused, sucking in a deep breath. Light bled around a familiar corner.
I’d been here before.
“A little further,” she murmured happily, and I forced my feet to follow. Around the corner came a familiar open arena illuminated by torchlight. It made me feel like I was drowning in rocks and earth. Papa lay on the floor, his right eye swollen shut, and his dark hair mussed. I held my breath, watching as his chest lifted slowly and fell again. I could see neither Dane nor Angelina, but I knew she lurked somewhere in the shadow.
“Ah! He’s alive,” Miss Mabel said. “What a disappointment.”
She didn’t stop me when I rushed forward and fell to my knees at Papa’s side. He’d been lying in the rising ocean water, hands bound behind his back.
“Papa? Can you hear me?” He didn’t answer. I quickly checked over him with my hands, my eyes roving over everything I could see. One bound arm was broken. His nose appeared crooked, and a bluish bruise had formed under his right eye. I murmured a few healing incantations, but they didn’t soothe the gash on his arm or even out his raspy breathing. Why wasn’t my magic working?
“Wonderful to see both of you here.”
A wall of oppressive evil announced Angelina, and I struggled to take in a breath. My gaze caught movement on the far side of the cave. Angelina stepped away from a dark wall and into the light, her gleaming eyes resting on me. I stopped, heart in my throat.
Now, Miss Mabel, I thought. Transport him now!
“Mother,” Miss Mabel said, inclining her head. “How nice to see you again.” Her once maniacal eyes had grown cool, if not bored, but she acutely assessed the situation. Her gaze flickered from shadow to shadow, as if she were trying to take in every single detail, right down to the last torch.
Angelina surveyed her daughter with an open, affectionate gaze. “You as well, dearest girl. Are you all right? I am relieved to see you again. I’ve been quite worried.”
“As well as can be expected after so long in the dungeons. Couldn’t break through Derek’s defenses?”
A blaze of indignation showed in Angelina’s gaze but faded. “Something like that,” she murmured, turning back to me. “You have him, Bianca. I fulfilled my part of the binding. But you won’t get far before I take my revenge on both of you.”
Miss Mabel stepped forward. Do it! I willed her, keeping my eyes on Angelina. You made a vow!
“Forgive me,” Miss Mabel said with a sarcastic smile, “but I have a vow to fulfill.”
Papa disappeared, as if he had never been there. A breath of relief escaped me, and I gave into the momentary weakness and leaned my palms into the cool sand. Angelina’s nostrils flared with rage, and her skin turned white in a rare display of emotion. Miss Mabel had never looked more pleased.
“You think you’re smarter than me, Bianca Monroe?” Angelina hissed, stepping toward me. I rose, unwilling to die on my knees. “Perhaps I shall just have to show you how smart I can be about punishing annoying brats.”
I didn’t have time to respond. A violent tug on my navel jerked me backward into the wall. My head and shoulders slammed into a jutting stone, and the telltale warmth of blood dripped down my scalp within moments. Bright spots popped into my blurry vision. I kicked my legs to find that I hung suspended from the wall, stunned as a rag doll. Fire shot underneath my skin in long bursts of pain. It started at my fingertips, raged past my elbows, and zipped into my shoulders. I screamed.
Do you feel the pain, Bianca?
Angelina’s voice stirred up memories. Grandmother’s grave. Papa leaving. Mama dying in my arms. I relived every exquisite, agonizing moment. I heard screams again and again, only to realize they weren’t echoes from my mind but came from my own throat.
This is nothing compared to what your father endured, Angelina said. Shall I turn it up a notch?
The red-hot flames crawled fro
m my shoulders to my collarbones, dancing around my neck with threatening force. My muscles burned like smoldering coals. There was no escape, no end. My heart bucked in agony in my chest, unable to bear it.
“Angelina, that’s enough!”
The pain disappeared, and I fell into the water. A small body appeared in between Angelina and me with a flash of blinding light. All three of us recoiled from the unexpected brightness. When I glanced up, Isadora’s curved, old back stood just a breath away from me. An indescribable light lingered around her. Angelina stepped back, her lips curling in disgust.
“Isadora, you meddling old witch.”
“You shall not harm this child,” Isadora said, her voice ringing out clear and firm. “She is under my protection.”
“By what power?” Angelina snarled.
“My power.” Isadora’s voice boomed with authority. “Rooted in goodness and light.”
“Not even goodness can defeat Almorran magic, foolish hag.”
“Perhaps it cannot banish the evil of Almorran magic alone, but it can fight, and it will, through me. You overestimate your own ability, Angelina, and underestimate the power of courage and loyalty, just like your mother did.”
The palpable evil in the air around Angelina faded when Isadora stood close to me, her presence repelling the darkness. I sucked in a deep breath, grateful to feel my lungs expand and the sharp shooting pains subside. The air didn’t weigh so heavily on my shoulders.
Miss Mabel grinned with one side of her lips, then clapped. “Oh, how delightful to see you here, Isadora. Isn’t this wonderful, Mother? There’s no one my family loves more than a powerful Watcher.”
Angelina’s knuckles clenched so tightly they turned white, but her face remained calm and in control. “Why have you come?” she asked Isadora. “You never meddle in things unless you have an angle. Isn’t that some code for your kind?”
