Tears of desperation sit in my eyes. “Please, Mother, help her. Eloise is my friend. She protected me. She fought for me.”
Mother loosens her grip, and I slip out and run to Eloise’s side. Behind me I hear Mother call for the healer.
My filthy ball gown hangs limply around me as I kneel next to the bed and stroke Eloise’s cold, clammy arm. “Do not die,” I whisper. “Don’t you dare die.”
Blood runs in tiny rivers over her bare torso. It’s not clotting. If I’ve learned anything from my years of living with Beck, it’s how to staunch the flow of blood, but this is more than the trickle I’m used to. It seeps between my fingers as I press my hands against her wound, and her sticky, warm blood trickles down my arms and onto my dress. Her chest rises slowly beneath my hands, each breath a labored effort, and for that, I’m thankful.
“I need to speak to you privately, Malin,” Henry says from next to me.
Both Annalise and Mother’s female guard step forward as if the mere suggestion of Mother and Henry being alone is dangerous.
I lift my head and notice Mother watching me with curiosity. “And why is that Henry? What do you need to tell me that can’t be said before these good people?” She holds her hand, palm out, toward the crowd at the door.
“I think you know.”
The Healer lifts my hands from Eloise’s torso and rolls her onto her side. I stare at my blood-stained hands, memorizing the dark red and brown patterns. Heat races across my shoulders and up my neck. I shudder and clench my hands into tight fists.
Whoever did this will pay.
Mother turns to our audience. “This man wishes to speak to me privately. Please leave us.”
Not one person protests. They just go. They do whatever Mother asks of them, like she knew they would.
I wonder if they even realize they have no control over their actions? What do they feel when she takes control of their desires? Does it frustrate them as it does me? Does it fill them with anger or are they resigned to it?
“Shall we go too, Malin?” Oliver asks. I jerk my head toward the shadow in the corner, where my guards stand. How odd. I wonder why Mother’s request didn’t affect them?
“Wait in the hallway,” Mother says. As much as I don’t want to leave Eloise, I want to respect Henry wishes and begin to follow the Healer toward the door.
“Lark, you stay.” Defeat peppers Henry’s words.
I look to Mother for permission. She dips her head and I resume my position next to Eloise.
“What is it, Henry? I have things to attend to. Funerals to plan and a public hall to repair. I don’t have time for my traitorous brother.”
“They were coming for you and Lark. To expose you. They want control of the State.”
Mother lifts her chin and narrows her eyes. “Who? The Light witches?”
“Malin.” My uncle’s voice cracks as he keeps his eyes fixed on something in the distance. “We’ve completely lost control of the Light witches.”
Mother’s body quivers and she presses her lips into a tight line. “Is Patrick still in charge?”
A slight shake of the head. “Patrick was never more than a figurehead, you know that, and Beck is just a boy.”
Beck’s name rolls through my body and stabs at my heart with the precision of a well-cast destruction spell.
“Who’s leading them? Eamon?” Mother clips her words. Forcefully. Strong.
“Yes.” Henry’s olive eyes flash with anger. “He called Eloise and me traitors for helping Lark. He attacked us.” He rests his hand on Eloise’s leg. “He attacked Eloise. He did this to her.” Henry and Mother exchange a look that tells me there is more to this story.
“So you fled here? Why?”
Henry runs a trembling hand through his ash-coated hair. “No. That’s not right.” He’s rambling, barely making coherent sentences. “Eamon followed us. I should have known, but Beck was so determined and Eloise, she…”
“What about Beck?” I ask.
“He said Malin’s been misleading you.” Henry’s eyes drill into mine and he taps his temple in an inconspicuous way.
Before I can stop her, Mother turns her magic on Henry and he crumples to the ground in pain. He clasps his hands over his head and a guttural cry rips from his throat. “How dare you!” she shouts. “I love Lark. I’m helping her remember who she is!”
“Stop it! What are you doing?” I scream. My fists pummel Mother’s back as I try to break her flow of magic.
“Henry needs to be punished, Lark. If you can’t watch, it’s best you leave.”
“He says you’re scaring him,” Henry whispers.
Mother releases her energy and Henry falls onto his back, gasping for air. “What did you say?”
Henry presses his lips together in refusal. But I heard him. Is it possible Beck can hear me, but I can’t hear him?
Energy radiates from Mother again and Henry screams in agony.
“Stop!” I yell, but Mother unleashes her special form of torture again.
Fire fills my core. Wave after wave of energy washes over me and I gather it to myself.
“I said, stop.” My voice vibrates and bounces off the walls. It shatters the glass jars sitting on the cabinet.
Mother staggers backward under my attack. She doubles over and gasps. “Well played, Lark. Well played.”
I don’t have time for her games and quickly move around the bed so that I stand between Mother and Henry. Her next attack on him will have to go through me. I stare down at my uncle. “You said Eamon followed you. Who did he follow?”
“Me, Eloise...and Beck”
“But I saw him.” I sputter. “With Eamon.”
Henry glances at Mother, a small frown on his lips. “Eloise and Beck thought maybe, if they could find you, Lark, you’d run away with them. But Eamon and his people cornered us just outside Malin’s house.” His voice shakes. “We were with Beck, but we were outnumbered. He wasn’t strong enough to hold them off.”
Blood pumps through my body hard and I try to control the fear spreading through me. “Where is he? Does Eamon still have him?”
Henry shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
My eyes rest on Eloise. The blood covering her body. Her labored breath. This is not what I want to hear. “Mother? Do you know?”
“No.”
Rage floods my body, red hot and pulsing. I don’t try to stop it. “If Eamon hurt Beck, I will destroy him,” I scream.
When Mother steps toward me, I sprint to the door. It flings open before I touch it. The crowd in the hallway steps aside as if coming in contact with me is dangerous.
The lights lining the ceiling explode one-by-one sending a spray of glass raining down on us, and a gust of wind tears through the hall, turning it into a wind tunnel.
The crowd has moved well away from me now. Good. Let them see what I can do when I’m angry.
Lark Greene is not someone to mess with. And everyone will know.
Dawson and Oliver appear at the end of the hall, but I’m not going to let them stop me.
With my hand outstretched, I use magic to pin them to the wall. If I knew where to go, I’d transport, but what good would that do? I don’t know what to do or who to ask for help. The wind whips my hair around my head as I turn the corner. To my disappointment, it’s just another endless hallway. No exit in sight.
My body shakes with magic. Unlike at Summer Hill, there’s nothing preventing me from lashing out. And right now, I feel dangerous.
Out of breath, I sink to the ground and allow the folds of my dress to swallow me. What was Beck thinking, coming for me? I thought he understood that he has to stay away. No matter what.
“Lark?” Mother calls out as she turns the corner.
“Where is he?” I scream. “Tell me!” I hurtle a bolt of magic toward her, but she deflects it with a quick flash of her hand.
I concentrate on the energy building in me. Mother will tell me. I know she knows where Beck is an
d I’m tired of pretending he doesn’t exist.
Mother exhales dramatically. “You need to stop this. You’re going to terrify everyone.”
My magic pummels her, but she simple shakes it away. “You may be strong, but you’re also irrational when you become upset. Which, as I’ve said before, makes you predictable.” She quickly crosses to where I sit and wraps her arms around me. “And predictable is what will get you killed.”
My body goes limp and I don’t fight her. Maybe it’s her power of persuasion, or maybe it’s that I’m done fighting. All I know is that Mother’s touch consoles me.
“Sweet girl,” she says stroking my hair. “It pains me to see you hurt like this.”
I want to believe her words. But more than anything, I wish it were Bethina comforting me. In my mind, I see her open, friendly face, hear her heart-warming laugh. The tears I’ve held back fall freely now. Tears I should have shed weeks ago for the woman who raised me. For Bethina, who sacrificed herself to protect me.
For the woman who was once my mother’s friend.
“Shhh,” Mother whispers as she rocks me like a small child. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“How can you say that?” I manage to say between sobs. “My life is a mess. And your idea of safe is for me to kill the boy I love. I’d rather be dead than hurt him.”
“Lark, love, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Annalise said he’d be safe,” I choke out. “He was supposed to be safe. You were going to have Eamon killed. That’s why I left Beck.”
Mother moves her hands to my shoulders and pushes back so that she can peer into my eyes. “You left him because you knew staying was wrong. You don’t belong together.”
I shake my head. “No. I left him because I thought he’d be safer. Away from me. But he’s not.”
Mother lets go of my shoulders. “I can teach you to be so much more than temper tantrums, if you’d let me.”
“I’m not having a tantrum.”
She studies me, like she’s trying to gage how upset I am. “So these little outbursts of yours, they’re what exactly?”
“Magic.” My voice drops. “I’m doing magic.”
“No. They’re uncontrolled and childish. You are better than this, and you know it.”
I do. I’ve seen it tonight. The destructive nature of my power. But I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to give myself over to the magic because I fear losing myself and whatever small part of me remains good.
I close my eyes. “I’m not going to practice Dark magic. You can’t make me.”
“Do you want Eamon dead?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation. More than anything, I want him to die. And not just die, but suffer for what he’s done to my friends and family.
God help him if he harms Beck. My vengeance will know no end.
“Then let me show you how. You’ll have more control than you ever thought possible. You can hunt Eamon if that’s what you choose.” She holds out her hand to me. “I cannot, however, continue to tolerate outbursts like this.”
I place my hand in hers. Because really, I’m just pretending to be good. Deep down, I’m a type of Dark more inky and malicious then the rest of them.
And I want Eamon dead.
17
“What is this?” I say, trying to decipher the kaleidoscope of color covering Mother’s tablet. Mother has kept me by her side all day. She seems afraid to let me out of her sight.
“Riots, uprisings, and general unrest.” She touches a symbol that looks like a curling snake. “This indicates the Splinter Group.”
I point at a spot on the screen. “Where is this?”
Mother swipes her hand over the tablet and the image of our Society superimposes over the symbols. “The Southland. So far, they’ve remained mostly outside Austin, but we’ve had reports of unrest in the Midlands as well. And, of course, you know we’ve had sightings here.”
I nod, remembering the crowd outside the nightclub. “How are you keeping it hidden? Surely, the surrounding population realizes something odd is happening.”
“We control all means of communication, Lark. The public only knows what we allow.”
“And what the Splinter group tells them.”
Mother shakes her head. “Have you forgotten with whom you’re speaking? I can convince the public of anything I wish. Even if it has been blasted all over gossip feeds.”
That may have been true once, but I’m not so sure anymore. In order for Mother to persuade the people, she has to speak to them either in person or via the wallscreen. But if humans aren’t listening to her morning addresses, then they’re not affected by her power.
Which means the Splinter group message could be better received.
“Can’t you try working with the Light witches? It seems like all they want is a little more power. Maybe you should give them some?”
Mother thumps her hand against the arm of her chair. “Do you think I haven’t tried to find a solution? All Bethina and I did for years…” She sighs and sinks back against her chair. “I’ve tried. Please believe me when I say this.”
The question I’ve wanted to ask since I found the picture of Mother, Henry, and Bethina pops out of my mouth. “How well did you know Bethina?”
“Why?”
I lick my lips. “You left me in her care. You must have trusted her.”
Mother stares past me with glazed eyes. “We were friends once. Raised in the same house even.” She shakes her head and shudders. “But that was long ago.”
“You were housemates? But she was a Light witch. Why was she at the school?” My understanding is that Beck was the only Light witch student in the State school. All other Light witches are taught at home, by their families.
“When the State began enforcing schooling, all human and witch children were sent. They kept children with magical lineage together, and we often mixed within houses.”
“So what happened?”
“Accusations that the schools were nothing more than an attempt by the Dark witches to raise Light witches as their own. Within a few years, the only Light witches left were a few teachers, and Henry and Bethina.”
Mother shifts in her chair. “Which is why they were both Singletons. There was no one to pair them with.”
Everything makes more sense now. Still, Mother didn’t have to be friends with Bethina. “The two of you were best friends?”
With narrowed eyes, Mother says, “I didn’t say that.”
“No…I” There’s no point in lying. “I found a photo of you, Henry, and Bethina as teenagers.”
Mother’s mouth forms a round, little ‘o’. She turns her head and looks off to the side for a moment before casting her gaze back at me. “Where?”
I hesitate. She doesn’t seem angry, but what if she destroys it? What if there’s more information about her past she doesn’t want me to discover? So I lie. “At Summer Hill.”
She nods to herself, as if having a private conversation. After a minute, Mother says, “We were close, but Bethina didn’t understand my choices.” Her voice sounds rougher than normal. “I trusted her with you and that’s all I’m going to say on this topic.”
There has to be more to this story. Henry, Mother, Bethina—all three of them hid their friendship from me. No, scratch that. From everyone. And if Mother won’t tell me the entire story, I’ll have to go to Henry.
With a sigh, I check my wristlet for the time. “Mother, I want to visit Henry at the hospital. He hasn’t left Eloise’s side and I’m a little worried about him.”
“We’re not done yet.” The tablet lights up and Mother pushes it toward me. She stands and walks toward the far wall. A wallscreen appears. “Do you know why I do all this? Why I fight so hard to protect us?”
Because you’re power hungry? “No.”
Her hands flutter quickly and an image appears on the wallscreen. “This is what humans have done to us throughout history.”
Ancient image after image of women tied to stakes flicker past. Photos of young girls with their hands and feet bound, being tossed into icy rivers. Lifeless bodies of teenage girls swinging from ropes. I rub my hand over the pocket of my dress where I keep my necklace, but even that can’t quell the horror welling in me.
“Did you notice anything?” Mother asks.
I pause. “They were all dead?”
“They were all girls.” Her voice breaks on the last word. “Not one of them past the age of eighteen. Most probably had just started learning about magic, but they weren’t mature. They didn’t stand a chance against the hangman’s noose.
“If humans know what we are, they will round up every one of our children and do those terrible things to them. They will slaughter them in their sleep and set their beds on fire. Is that what you want? To have our future taken from us?”
I don’t bother to remind her that she has set me on fire. Instead, I drop my head and cover my eyes with one hand. “No.”
“Hiding is our best defense, Love. Every time we lose one of our young people, we lose a little bit of our future.”
“And yet, you want me to kill Beck. That’s completely illogical, Mother.”
She flicks her wrist and the wallscreen fades to black. “I don’t want you to kill him. I’ve explained that to you. But if only one of you can survive, I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure it’s you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Do you know where he is?”
“There is no news,” she says. “My best guess is Eamon has him.”
My heart sinks. No news. According to Annalise, Ryker lost sight of him during the fight.
“Don’t frown, Love. I hate seeing you sad.”
It’s strange how I believe her. Despite the things she’s done to me, I really do think she’s done them with good intentions. She bound Beck and I to keep me safe; she insisted we be raised together to protect me; and in a weird, twisted way, I think she even left me with the Light witches because she thought it would keep me safe.
Nightingale (The Sensitives) Page 13