[Network 01.0] Miss Mabel's School for Girls

by Katie Cross

  “A yellow one? Very impressive.”

  She sent a hailstorm of copper blighters I hadn’t seen in a long time. Copper blighters dissolved into a powder that burned the skin and turned into an acid when it came into contact with water, so washing it off only made it worse. Not wanting it near me, I flung my arm, sending the shield skyward. It slammed the blighters into the ceiling. The gold vines and silver flowers grew red with heat on my silent command, burning the blighters into ash.

  “Delightful,” Miss Mabel sighed. “All this training already complete.”

  I ducked a white blighter. My shield slipped over my back as the speedy ball ricocheted back, threatening to break my spine. Responding to a deep instinct, I commanded my shield into different positions over my crouched body, blocking the blighter with every attempt to hit me. The speed of a white blighter alone would knock me out, or break a bone.

  “A good idea, but it won’t last forever,” Miss Mabel said as she leaned back against the wall, her arms folded across her middle. “White blighters just get faster the longer they go, you know.”

  I tightened my jaw and steeled myself. She was right. The longer I waited, the more dangerous this blighter became. I thought about trapping it between the wall and my shield, but the wall wouldn’t contain it. The only thing that stopped a white blighter was contact with the intended target. Allowing it to hit my leg would cripple me, and I wouldn’t risk any place on my back.

  No matter how I looked at it, this would hurt.

  I held out my left hand, grabbed the handle on the inside of my shield with my right, and braced myself. Two seconds later I felt a cool burn in my palm and closed my hand around it. The bones in my left hand cracked, and I let out a cry, falling off my feet from the impact. The blighter disintegrated.

  “Oh, very self-sacrificing, Bianca. Also very wise. A broken hand is a small injury to deal with when it comes to white blighters. I would have done the same thing.”

  Enraged, my hand throbbing, I stood up. The pain was so strong it made my head dizzy, and I fell back to my knees with a shout.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about self-sacrificing,” I muttered. Miss Mabel threw her head back and laughed.

  I silently commanded a black blighter. It hovered in front of me, the size of my fist.

  “Ooh,” she said, her eyebrows elevating. “I think your powers have grown since Hazel died. Since you finally let yourself become so angry. I’ve never seen a student conjure such a large blighter before. How wonderful. Although, if you want to talk impressive, the big ones are more like this.”

  She produced a black blighter of her own. At least two times as large as mine, it hung in the air like a monstrous piece of coal. I steeled myself. Black blighters didn’t fly well. Their thick density made them better weapons on the ground. If Miss Mabel’s blighter came near me, it would crush my kneecaps in seconds.

  “Let’s see how you feel about this one, hmm?”

  It crashed to the floor, cracking a couple boards as it rolled toward me. Using only one hand, I slammed my shield into the floor so hard it stuck, the bottom angle buried deep in the wood. Then I commanded my blighter to the other side of the room, as far away as I could get it. Miss Mabel’s blighter rammed into the shield just as mine swooped in from the corner, slamming into the monstrous black lump with a resounding crack. Both blighters broke into several pieces and fell apart.

  “Very wise,” she said, making a tsking sound with her teeth. “Not many know that the only way to destroy a black blighter is with another black blighter. A bit like diamonds.”

  This wasn’t looking good. I’d been in a constant defensive position. My broken hand would make it difficult to take control.

  If you want to win, you have to be the one moving forward, dictating the rules. You can’t let your opponent be in control, Papa’s reassuring voice whispered from deep in my past.

  The misshapen angles of my hand and the magnificent pains soaring through my arm were too crippling to ignore. I hauled my shield out of the floor with my right arm too late. A pink blighter sitting just in front of me caught my eye. It was swollen and bubbling, sprouting large pink pockets of air that spread in halos around it.

  “No,” I breathed and dropped my shield, kicking it down to cover the blighter a second too late. The pink foam exploded in a thundering boom, throwing me backward.

  My right shoulder slammed into the wall of the classroom, reverberating through my teeth and rocking my spine.

  I fell to the floor with another yell. Despite the white-hot explosion of pain through my head, and the dull ache of my shoulder wrenching out of its socket, my shield stayed true, protecting my face and body from the burning embers that flew through the air with me.

  Miss Mabel stood amidst the carnage, cool and untouched. A burned spot in the floor remained as the only testament that the blighter once existed.

  “The true test of a witch in a Mactos is their control over their shield,” she said, stepping out of the haze. “You obviously know how to fight, how to use blighters, and how to defend yourself. But your shield use is your most impressive skill, Bianca. It indicates a high level of magical control and power. Most impressive. Impressive enough to earn the Advanced Defensive Magic mark.”

  I leaned back against the classroom wall with a grimace, hoping the pain would dispel so I could think. My shield settled in front of me, blocking my body. I panted, blanching with every heartbeat that hammered blood through my hand and arm. Sweat dribbled down my back. I tried to stand up but fell back with a useless cry, my right arm immobile and smarting. I stayed there, bracing myself for the next move, trying to figure out a plan.

  Clarity came all too soon. I’d never win a Mactos against Miss Mabel.

  “Now that I have your full attention,” Miss Mabel said. “Let’s discuss a few things.”

  An old leather book drifted from the top of a bookshelf at the front of the room. Pages floated out of the loose, broken spine like lazy leaves in the fall.

  “My Book of Contracts,” she explained, plucking one of the loose papers out of the air. “It’s a favorite of mine, you know.”

  My shoulder spasmed with pain. I looked down to see the extent of the damage and found the telltale dimple that meant a simple dislocation. This wasn’t the first time. I bit my bottom lip, bracing myself for what would come next.

  In a Mactos, you respond to any injury the moment you can, Papa advised. I held my teeth together. This would hurt.

  My shield responded to my thoughts, moving back to me, angling between my useless arm and my body. It began pushing my arm to the side. I grunted through the pain, my eyes screwed shut. An audible pop filled the air, and instantaneous relief flooded my whole arm, making it weak.

  I struggled to my knees, fighting off a wave of blackness that started at the edges of my vision. This talk about her Book of Contracts could be a ruse. Any minute now she’d send another blighter, but I wasn’t sure how I’d fight them off. Any minute now.

  Be ready for anything, I coached myself, desperate. Be versatile. My knees almost gave out, but I straightened up. Confidence.

  The Book of Contracts slammed onto the table as it opened, sending the pages flapping in a sudden gust of wind. A large peacock feather and a jar of black ink materialized on the table next to the book. A blank page sat open, staring at me.

  She snapped her fingers and the feather began to write.

  “You surprised me today, Bianca. I knew you had some hidden magic abilities, but nothing this extensive. You’ve earned two marks in one day, completing your circlus.”

  My breath caught. Of course! Why hadn’t I seen it before? She wanted me to have a completed circlus. That had been her plan all along. A completed circlus meant power. The scratch of the feather filled the spaces in her speech. Her voice switched from the cackle of battle to the syrupy sweet tone she used to bargain.

  “I had plans for you before, but now that I know you’re so well trained, I think we
’ll do something a bit different. I have an offer to make you, Bianca. Something that could help you be great. I want to take you as my official Assistant. Not just my pupil, but my equal. Work with me, and I’ll teach you things to do with this newfound power you never would have known otherwise.”

  Equal? A trickle of warm blood oozed from the corner of my mouth. I had bitten the inside of my cheek and could taste the metallic tang.

  “Like what? Cursing people?” I laughed bitterly. “Destroying lives?”

  She acted as if I hadn’t spoken, maintaining her illusion of control.

  “You have one task left to complete to prove that you’re ready for such a wonderful education.” She motioned toward the Book of Contracts. “All I want is for you to agree to it by signing. Once the task is completed to my satisfaction, you and I can move forward with your education.”

  “What is the task?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  “Nothing too difficult, really. You’ll find out after you sign.”

  “I see,” I whispered. “You’ll sign me to complete a task of your choosing and then kill me, or let me die, or back out of your portion of the deal as soon as I complete it. Sounds great.”

  “Good, you’re skeptical. I like it. If you want me to convince you, I’ll sign it in blood. Nothing would bind me to it more.”

  She pulled a tiny golden blade from her wrist with a flash, dragged it across her thumb, and pressed it to the cream page.

  “Satisfied?”

  The crimson mark shone in the lamplight, now brighter than ever.

  “I won’t enter into any deal with you,” I said. “Not for anything.”

  Her eyes flashed.

  “Not for anything? Because I imagine you wouldn’t want something awful to happen to your dear mother, would you? Like a second curse or a horrific illness that she never dies from? Or there’s always Derek, the hero of the Central Network. How would the people react if they knew their beloved Protector had been lying to them all along?”

  I stared at her with burning rage. The heat from my broken hand grew, expanding up my arm and through my ribs until it electrified my toes. My breathing sped up. I didn’t feel the pain anymore. In fact, I didn’t feel anything but euphoric hatred and all the power it gave me. It ran through me like a buzz. A savage pop came from the fireplace, and the light in the room flared.

  “Don’t touch them.”

  Her eyes tightened into slits. “Then don’t give me a reason.”

  I stepped toward her with a snarl.

  “I’ll never put myself in your debt.”

  “Here’s the thing, Bianca.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me close with surprising strength, gripping so hard I thought the bone would break. I forced back a cry of pain.

  Her mouth hovered near my ear, whispering. “If you don’t sign the contract, I won’t remove the curse. You will die this summer, and your father will be exiled to the Northern Network for lying to the High Priestess and the Council. Your mother will dwindle in a slow death, alone. Because I have ultimate power over her curse, I wouldn’t mind extending her miserable, pathetic life so that she always remembers what she lost. Death will be the reprieve that she can’t have.”

  She shoved me away.

  “Do you want that kind of guilt sitting on your chest? Knowing that you’ll pass but your mother won’t, forced to cling to a bitter, painful existence?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when the High Priestess’s words came back to me.

  I want you to agree to her deal.

  Agreement or not, I wasn’t sure I could do it now that I stood in front of her. The High Priestess couldn’t have known what she was asking. I hated Miss Mabel too much. The fire crackled and fizzed, shooting up the chimney in great flames, filling the room with sticky heat. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck and ran along my spine.

  “I won’t do it. I won’t tie myself to you.”

  “I can see you’ll need some convincing,” she said. “I’m sure this will help.”

  The familiar whoosh that preceded a human transformation spell came from the hall. Mama appeared in the doorway, her black hair loose over her shoulders. It took her a second to take in the burned floors, the overturned desk, the scattered books. She shook her head, disoriented, her gray eyes matching the broiling winter storm outside.

  “Bianca!” she cried, starting for me. My heart stilled in my chest. Mama. What was she doing here?

  “No!” I screamed. “Stop!”

  She skidded to a halt, her eyes in panic. Miss Mabel tipped her a cold, hard smile.

  “Welcome, Marie. Bianca and I were just about to discuss what her future looks like.”

  “Go back!” I yelled as Mother started toward me again. “You have to leave!”

  “Make a decision, Bianca!” Miss Mabel said, excitement in her wild sapphire eyes. “Or I’ll make her life more miserable than you could ever imagine.”

  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.

  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.