Miss Mabel's School for Girls: The first book in the Network Series

by Katie Cross

  Mama stopped to stare at me. I glanced from her to Miss Mabel in indecision. No matter what I did someone would suffer. Why couldn’t Miss Mabel leave her out of this?

  “Don’t do it, Bianca!” Mama cried. “It’s not worth it. She doesn’t frighten me.”

  Miss Mabel took a threatening step toward Mama with vindictive spite.

  “Silence, Marie. You don’t know what you’re saying. Time is up, Bianca.”

  “Wait!” I yelled, throwing myself between them. “I’ll do it.”

  Miss Mabel pointed to the book.

  “Sign it.”

  I hesitated and looked back to my mother. She shook her head, her face pale, lips compressed. “Don’t do it,” she pleaded without sound. “Don’t sign that paper.”

  “I have to,” I whispered.

  “Don’t do this, Mabel. She’s only a girl,” Mother said in a low voice, turning away from me. “Let me sign it for her.”

  “This is what Bianca gets for trying to play in an adult world.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, begging Mama to trust me with my eyes. I wished I could explain it to her. Would knowing the High Priestess’s plans comfort her? No, because they didn’t even comfort me. “It’s okay.”

  Whether I wanted to reassure her or myself, I couldn’t tell.

  My footsteps echoed on the floor as I walked to the Book of Contracts, like a slow march to death. The feather lifted into the air as I approached. Only a few sentences in the whole binding stuck out to me.

  I will see the unknown deed unto completion or forfeit my own life. If I communicate this contract to another soul, may my life be surrendered.

  My accomplishment of the task guarantees the removal of my family curse.

  With one last breath, I grabbed the feather, turned away, and signed the bottom line. The ink glittered a familiar crimson, matching Miss Mabel’s bloody thumbprint.

  The book slammed shut as soon as I pulled away.

  “Wonderful!” Miss Mabel cried, all fury forgotten. “I love a good binding.”

  The Book of Contracts flew to her side. She wrapped an arm around it and anchored it to her waist. The sound of a door slamming sounded below, and a gaggle of shouting voices followed. My heart perked up in hope.

  Papa.

  Miss Mabel stopped in the doorway, her back to us. Although the sound of running feet filled the air, she didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

  “One last thing,” Miss Mabel said, looking back at me over her shoulder. “I’ll need you to be powerful, so don’t be afraid to give in to how you feel after this moment, Bianca. Hatred is a mighty catalyst. You’re going to need it if you want to survive the hell that’s about to descend on the Central Network.”

  My eyes narrowed in an attempt to understand her meaning. But then a blinding flash of light interrupted the air, slamming into my mother’s chest with a spray of sparks.

  I gasped, only able to stare in fear.

  Mama turned to me, a stunned look on her face. Her gentle gray eyes locked with mine and stopped my heart. She stood there for a few moments, trying to breathe.

  “Mama! No!”

  Everything slowed down.

  I ran forward and caught her as she fell. My knees gave out, taking us to the wooden floor. A few tendrils of ebony hair fell away from her face. Her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling.

  Someone began to scream from far away.

  Voices yelled. Feet flooded the floor. Someone grabbed my arm. Another passed behind me. The edges of my vision went dark. A pair of hands felt her neck. People spoke over me.

  “We’re too late.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Careful! Look at Bianca’s hand.”

  “Gone. Mabel’s disappeared.”

  I held on tighter as the world around me blurred. The far-away screams turned to guttural cries of pain.

  All I could feel was the breaking of my own heart.

  43

  Making Chaos

  A few flower petals fluttered to the ground from my clenched fist.

  The coldness made it feel like winter would stay forever. Gray carpets covered the sky, blocking the sun and sending a piercing wind. The edges of my white dress drifted in the breeze as I stared at my mother’s grave. A fresh-churned dirt so rich it was almost black made a perfect rectangle in the ground and smelled like earth. Instead of a line of plants over her grave, we put a circle of chrysanthemums with a tree in the middle. Letum Ivy already snaked along the ground and started the slow twirl up the slender trunk, accepting Mama back to the earth.

  Everything else was so similar to Grandmother’s funeral that I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not.

  I wished I was. Oh, how I wished I was.

  Two new marks filled the circle on my right wrist. I didn’t remember getting them. A seven-pointed Advanced Defensive Magic star and the three interlocking circles in a row for Advanced Hexes and Curses. Although I hadn’t done magic at all in the past two days, I knew I was different with a completed circlus.

  Different, or stronger. Filled with rage, or grieving. Whatever it was, I felt it. It coursed through me in hot streaks, never letting me forget.

  Hatred is a mighty catalyst.

  Indeed.

  Guardians ringed the perimeter of the cemetery, spaced at even intervals and facing outward. Even their presence couldn’t comfort me. Who were they against Miss Mabel’s barbarous cruelty? It knew no boundary.

  That’s why my mother lay in the cold ground, never to smile again.

  Helen stood outside the cemetery, but this time her chant faded away. She held her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. I recognized the words of a familiar invocation as she called on the heavens to give me light and energy, to banish the bitter sting of death. But she couldn’t finish it, and I didn’t know if that was my fault or not. I watched her for a long time, and then I saw movement far behind her, in the depths of Letum Wood. Isadora’s foggy eyes met mine. I saw a knowing sadness, a mourning there. Her warning at the beginning of the school year haunted me.

  Don’t underestimate her.

  The crunch of leaves announced that someone walked toward me, and I braced myself for another well-meant expression of solace from someone I didn’t know. The footsteps came to a stop at my side. Isadora disappeared.

  The High Priestess’s scratchy voice broke the air.

  “Miss Mabel is gone, and the High Priest is dead. She killed him shortly after murdering your mother.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I murmured. “She loves chaos of her own making.”

  I didn’t have the energy to look the High Priestess in the eye, so the two of us just stared at the deadfall. How could I look at her knowing I would one day kill her? Especially when I couldn’t tell her that I’d signed the binding. I had the creeping suspicion that the High Priestess had known all along that I wouldn’t be able to warn her. Had I known, I wouldn’t have agreed. She must have understood that about me.

  It would be a bitter secret, gnawing at my heart.

  “What happens now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “You changed all her plans.”

  Yes, and she changed mine.

  “Marie’s death will not be posted in the Chatham Chatterer as it occurred,” the High Priestess said with little preamble. “It was an unfortunate accident while visiting her daughter at school.”

  A well of bitterness grew in my chest.

  “You’re covering for a murderer.”

  “No. We’re playing our cards right. Miss Mabel will think that we’re trying to cover up a scandal with the Network schools to ensure we always have students. But we are trying to avoid drawing the spotlight onto her. There’s nothing Mabel loves more than attention.”

  “Who will know the truth?”

  “You and I, your father, and a handful of Council Members I trust. They put the classroom back together and repaired it before they left.”

  I suppose that meant she had C
ouncil Members she didn’t trust. Just thinking about it left me with a headache.

  “If a few Council Members know the truth, Miss Mabel has no hope of becoming High Priestess by popular vote,” I said.

  “As I said before: you changed her plans. I think it’s safe to assume that she’s going to attempt to do what I did with Evelyn.”

  “An overthrow?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Or she can have me do it from within. A young traitor, bound to an unknown task.

  “Do you think she will try?” I asked.

  “I have no doubt.”

  We said no more. There was nothing more to say.

  The High Priestess glanced over her shoulder to the small queue of people talking to my father by the cemetery gate. His wispy brown hair fanned out around his face and neck. Dark circles colored the skin under his eyes and a layer of stubble across his chin, but he held himself together with surprising strength.

  “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked, following her gaze. The wind brushed a few tendrils of hair off my face. Helen had picked the chant back up, and it coalesced into the background.

  “He’s going to continue in his job.”

  “What about the Council? They aren’t likely to be as lenient with him.”

  “You let me worry about them.”

  That was a kind way of saying that it wasn’t going to be that simple.

  “He’s not the first Head of Protectors to have a secret. He never let his family life interfere with his work, which is an argument in his favor.” The High Priestess shifted and pulled her white shawl back over a shoulder. “Not until recently, anyway. He’s been adamant about controlling your safety and being with you at all times for several weeks now. It’s caused a few more issues amongst my Protectors than I would have liked.”

  Our eyes met for the first time. The rough edge I normally saw there had softened a little, making her look more like a grandmother than a ruler.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s as simple as it sounds. You weren’t aware of anything unusual except for the sudden appearance of a white cat.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “After Derek learned that Mabel had you at the Esbat, he became concerned. He received permission from me and came the next day. He wasn’t there all the time but returned as often as he was able.”

  Tears rose to my eyes. Papa had been with me all along as my white cat. That’s why he never answered my frantic letters.

  Vague memories played back in my mind, making my heart thump. He hadn’t been alone. The calico cat at every Competition event. Her sudden reappearance after Grandmother died. The way the two cats curled around each other. Their frequent company whenever I was alone.

  My nearly inaudible voice came out in a mournful whisper.

  “My mother was the calico cat, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes. Once Derek realized your Mactos with Miss Mabel wasn’t just a test for the mark, he left to warn me. Marie stayed to monitor the situation in case you needed help. Mabel forced her transformation at the end.”

  “But how did she know?”

  “Mabel has many abilities, Bianca. They cannot always be explained.”

  It was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “How did he get hurt before he came? If I hadn’t nursed him back to health then–”

  “He got into a fight with a stray critter when he transformed in the forest to avoid any chance of being seen. Apparently fighting is a bit different when there are four legs to coordinate.”

  We fell into silence again. I just wanted it all to go away, but it wouldn’t. Not ever. This grim reality was here to stay.

  The High Priestess motioned off to the side with a tip of her head.

  “It seems I’m not the only one waiting to talk to you. I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m not sure they’d let me anyway. Camille has been inching closer every minute. Leda seems protective of you. She hasn’t stopped glaring at me since I arrived. They will soon overtake us.”

  Camille and Leda stood a few feet into the tree line, staring at me in their white dresses and hair ribbons. My best friends.

  “Take your time here, Bianca. We’ll wait by the carriages. You’re coming to stay at Chatham Castle, where we can keep you near your father.”

  And near you, so I can murder you in your sleep at Miss Mabel’s behest.

  I couldn’t look at her. My response felt choked.

  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  She pulled a pair of gloves out of a pocket and started sliding them over her wrinkled hands.

  “This is a lot bigger than just you and me, Bianca. It has been for a while. I only kept the obvious wolves at bay when I overthrew Evelyn. Now is the time to flush them all out. It will be a painful, dangerous process. Keep that in mind.”

  I thought I knew what she spoke of. Miss Mabel and Dane. The Central Network and the Western Network. Council Members she couldn’t trust. Death and war. She was telling me that it didn’t start or end with Mabel, or my mother, or me. Bigger forces were at play, forces I hadn’t yet imagined.

  Forces I didn’t want to imagine.

  The wind stirred up a flurry of leaves as she departed.

  Camille gave an awkward curtsy to the High Priestess as she walked past, but Leda ignored her and started right for me. They reached me at the same time, pulling me into a hug that would have knocked me over if it hadn’t also held me up. A sob filled my throat with suffocating thickness.

  When they pulled back, tears swam in Camille’s large hazel eyes. For the first time since I’d met her, she had nothing to say.

  “Bianca, this is my fault,” Leda said in a wavering voice. “I didn’t see–”

  “No.” I grabbed her arm. “This is not your fault. I would never expect you to foresee everything. An accident–” I stumbled over the words. “Just an awful accident.”

  We stared at each other. She finally nodded once, blinked several times, and looked away. Leda didn’t believe me, but she said nothing.

  “I’m not going to ask if you’re doing okay,” Camille said, squeezing my arm above the elbow to avoid my bandaged hand and restoring a sense of grounding to my upside-down world. “Because I know that you’re not. I remember how it felt when my parents died. Your father told us how it happened while you were speaking to the High Priestess. A terrible accident, falling that way.”

  Camille tightened her grip on my arm again, the wide-eyed look telling me in no uncertain terms that they knew the truth. They knew, and it was enough.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, attempting a short-lived smile. Tears pooled in my eyes. Camille looked around, her gaze lingering on the two fresh headstones that represented nearly everything important to me.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “I’m moving to the castle.”

  Camille’s eyes popped open in shock.

  “Chatham Castle?”

  “No,” Leda muttered. “The other one.”

  “You’re going to live with the High Priestess?”

  Yes, my beautiful nightmare. I wondered how they would react if they knew what I’d gotten myself into.

  “For now, anyway,” I said dismissively, not wanting to get into details.

  “I guess that’s where you’d live when your father is the Head of Protectors,” Leda said, glancing back at him. He stood apart from the small queue, intent in conversation with the High Priestess. “He’s a really nice guy, Bianca.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you still going to keep your grandmother’s shop open?” Camille asked. My thoughts turned back to the Tea and Spice Pantry with a twist in my stomach.

  “No,” I said. “Papa talked to the lady that’s been helping my mother and gave it all to her.”

  It had been a simple conversation between Papa and me, but it had closed a door. I couldn’t go back and see the deep barrels and the swatches of lavender or smell the cloves. My heart wasn’
t strong enough.

  “What about your curse?” Leda asked.

  The real question. Winter’s cold grasp would fade into the fresh life of spring. It would give way to summer and the end of my life.

  “I don’t know.” I sucked in a deep breath and looked out on Letum Wood. “Miss Mabel is still out there. I have until the middle of summer.”

  “Are they going to close the school?” Camille asked.

  “No.” A conversation I overheard between the High Priestess and my father ran through my head. Miss Scarlett would run the school as usual. If Miss Mabel stopped in, she’d let them know. No one would notice Miss Mabel’s absence. “It was just an accident. No reason to alarm anyone.”

  Right, their looks seemed to say.

  Camille lifted my right hand.

  “Your circlus is complete,” she said, glancing at me in surprise. Her voice was small, like a child’s. “You’re all done then. For real.”

  A call from the road caught our attention. Augustus pulled up with the same faded horse and creaky carriage I’d taken to the Esbat. He waved for Camille and Leda.

  Camille whirled back around.

  “Are we ever going to see you again?” she asked, clutching my hand even tighter.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “She’s going to invite us to the castle.” Leda closed her eyes, then opened them. “Really soon.”

  I responded with a breathy laugh.

  Camille’s eyes grew watery. She threw herself against me with all her usual force and didn’t let go for a long time.

  “Thanks for being my friend, Bianca,” she said into my shoulder, and I held her extra tight. “Merry part.” She whirled around without another word and ran off, her hair bouncing, her white stockings flashing. Leda and I faced each other. Her eyes were exceptionally bright today, their divergent coloring highlighted by her white-blonde hair.

  “Merry part, Bianca. Go well.”

  She put a kiss on the ends of her fingers and blew it to me. I smiled, and she walked away.

  Once they had departed, I turned back around to face my mother’s grave. I didn’t know how long I’d been standing there when I looked up to the soft, warbling descent of white snowflakes. Papa stood at my side. He moved as silently as the snow. He wrapped a strong arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him, inhaling the musky scent of leaves and mint. For just a moment, I felt safe. I was a little girl in his arms blinking away the snowflakes on my eyelashes. There were no secrets. No fears. Just Papa.