“So what are you going to do?” Alicia asked.
“I’m going to find the most powerful spell I can to drag that book through time and space, no matter where it is, and plant it right back in my hands.”
“Asking Callista to return the book wouldn’t be considered a reasonable first step?” Ivy asked.
“If I ask Callista for the book, she’ll just pretend that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about and she doesn’t know where it is,” I said, shaking my head. “And I can’t help but think this whole situation was designed to put me in the position of begging Callista to pretty-please give my book back. She wants me to look weak, because it suits her twisted social agenda. Well, I’ve had enough of that. I’m going to do what Mrs. – Auntie Aneira would do. I’m going hit her where it hurts.”
“Mrs. Winter wouldn’t hit her,” Ivy insisted. “Hitting would leave marks.”
“I mean, socially. I’m going to go get my book back in a very public fashion, so every girl at this school knows that I’m not Callista’s little lap dog.”
“I think this is a good plan,” Alicia said. “I think we should go to the library to look for a spell right now.”
“Good.” I nodded, stalking toward the door.
Ivy cleared her throat. “Also, the curtains are on fire.”
“Right.”
After the curtains were extinguished, I marched into the library with Alicia and Ivy on my heels. I’d spent too much time “trying” to do magic. It was time for me to simply do magic.
Miss Morton was sitting behind the reference desk, pencils stuck through her frizzled grey hair as she peered over a pair of half-moon glasses and read A Treatise on Transcendental Mechanics.
“Miss Morton, I need a location spell. The most powerful spell that students are allowed to use.”
Miss Morton’s head snapped up and her glasses slipped down her nose.
“Please,” I added quickly.
“Oh, we-well, what have you lost, dear?”
“I would really rather not say,” I told her.
Miss Morton’s brows furrowed. “All right, then. Will the item in question harm you or your fellow students if it’s found?”
“She might harm someone if it’s not found,” Alicia muttered, only to get her ribs nudged by Ivy.
“No, in fact, it’s in the best interest of the school if I find it,” I promised Miss Morton. “I don’t know where to begin looking, and I think it would save time to just draw the item to me.”
“I see.” Miss Morton slipped her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose as she scurried around the reference desk. Her footsteps echoed, even under the enormous blue glass dome of the library. I glanced up at the ceiling, while she puttered around in stacks to our left. That blobby shape winked out at me from all the House sigils. I was still frowning at it when Miss Morton came bustling out with a large blue leather book.
“I believe you’ll find what you’re looking for in this volume. But I must warn you, some things are better left lost. Once you start looking, you may not ever be able to stop.”
“Thank you,” I said, tucking the book under my arm and heading out into the hall. I flicked my wrist and Wit slid out of my sleeve.
“Miss Reed, you’re not going to just run off and perform an unfamiliar spell willy-nilly, are you?”
I changed the “stabbing” grip on my knife and hid it behind my back. “Of course not. I wouldn’t assume that I could do a spell I’ve never even read simply because I’m the Translator. That would be insane.”
Miss Morton smiled, nervously. “Wonderful, now, this particular spell is powerful, but it should be stabilized by at least two coven members to prevent… damage.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Alicia and Ivy, who had just taken large steps back. “Oh, thanks, very much.”
“What sort of damage?” Ivy asked. “To us or the item that’s being called?”
“Both,” Miss Morton said.
“I don’t know if I would be any help to you anyway,” Alicia said. “My brother has spent years layering some very complicated wards over me to keep me from using spells. With my Reverb, well, any help from me would be very unpredictable.”
I frowned. So Gavin had placed the spellwork equivalent of suppressors on his sister? Could that be what was affecting Alicia’s health? Considering how concerned he was for her well-being, I doubted he knew that long-term magical suppression was bad for her. I would have to find a way to bring that up in conversation without the context of my own experience with suppression.
“What would happen?” I asked Alicia. “If you took the wards off and were able to work magic freely?”
Alicia shrugged. “Gavin will not tell me, but given the faces he was making I have to guess that it would be very bad. Dropping a match in a barrel of kerosene and crayfire crystals, bad.”
“That does not paint a pretty picture,” Ivy agreed.
“The ‘support’ positions are mostly ceremonial,” Miss Morton assured her. “You don’t provide any power. You’re just there to prop Miss Reed up, like the legs of a tripod. The most stable cauldron sits on a stand with at least three legs, yes?”
Alicia nodded.
“Well, Miss Reed’s magic just needs to feel that your magic is propping hers up if she needs it. It’s more about confidence than power.”
“I would like to go back to your use of the word ‘damage,’” Ivy said, holding up one index finger.
“You know, it occurs to me that this sort of magic would come more naturally if I helped you work with the Mother Book,” Miss Morton told me. “I’ve been reading up on some meditative techniques that might help you.”
“I will take you up on that,” I promised, adding quietly. “As soon as I find the Mother Book.”
Miss Morton frowned. “What was that, dear?”
“Nothing.”
The school atrium was a bustle of activity as girls prepared to go home for the weekend. Snipe girls scurried around with piles of gowns thrown over their arms, climbing the staircase. Students stood in clusters, directing footmen regarding their trunks or dropping last minute bits of gossip. Cats and birds, the students’ familiars, milled about the black-and-white tile in dizzying patterns, chasing after their witches, as if they were afraid they would be left behind.
Flanked by Alicia and Ivy, I strode into the atrium, the light of mid-day streaming through the glass overhead. Phillip zipped out of the dormitory wing in a blue streak, landing on my shoulder with supportive chirp. I flicked my wrist, allowing Wit to sling out of my sleeve. The handle was warm in my palm.
Slowly, but surely, the other girls paused, watching Alicia hand me a quartz pendant. Alicia and Ivy held the book open in front of me. I held the pendant aloft while reading the incantation from the book, loudly, praying that I was pronouncing the Latin correctly. By the time I finished the first verse, every soul was still as water, even the Snipes, while I chanted. Callista appeared at the top of the stairs, eyebrows lifted.
I chanted louder, holding the pendant absolutely still, even as the muscles in my arms burned. Phillip hummed along, and I could feel a warm energy flowing down my skin from my shoulder, where he perched, as if he was adding some of his own magic to mine. This felt different than floating the vase or some glamour. This felt… grounded, like Phillip’s weight on my shoulder, Ivy and Alicia standing behind me would keep me from failing. Ivy was muttering the correct Latin pronunciations under her breath, adjusting my words without my even realizing it. Alicia simply stared at the pendant intently, as if it owed her money.
With the second verse finished, the pendant started to circle ever so slightly, swinging wider and wider until the chain was practically parallel to the floor. I started the third verse and the pendant stopped mid-circle and pointed toward the dormitory wing. Towards the stairs. Right at Callista.
I smiled brightly and felt the dragonfly wings thrum on my palms, sending a wave of warm energy through Wit. I drew my blade
through the air like a conductor, leaving a bright swirling symbol that translated to “FIND.” I threw up my arm, pointing the blade at Callista – which I enjoyed, a little more than I should have. Callista’s blue eyes went wide, and she dropped to the floor with a squawk, just as I yelled, “LIBRIS.”
For a second, nothing happened. The atrium stood absolutely still and silent. And I wondered if I’d just made an even bigger spectacle of myself in front of the entire student body, dragging poor Alicia and Ivy down with me.
And then I heard the flapping of what sounded like wings.
The book appeared, flying through the doorway, behind Callista, flapping its covers like wings. It looped around the atrium a few times, buzzing close to a few girls – nearly smacking Rosemarie in the head before fluttering into my free hand and shutting its covers. Phillip cawed triumphantly, landing on the cover.
I grinned broadly, a golden glimmer spreading under Phillip’s feet, as if it was telling me it was glad to see me. I glanced up at Callista, who was sprawled on the floor, an expression of shock on her face. I smiled, sweet as arsenic and cream, and swept my eyes over the assembled girls. I clutched the book to my chest and slid Wit up my sleeve.
The girls parted as Alicia, Ivy and myself made our way up the stairs. I paused at the landing, and Callista scrambled back into a distinctly unladylike crouch.
“You should stay out of my room from now on, Callista,” I told her. She glowered at me, rising to her feet.
Phillip wrapped both feet around my free index finger, and I lifted him up to eye level. “You are the best bird familiar a girl could ask for.”
He chirped and took a little bobbing bow.
Alicia giggled as we sped toward my room. “I’m so glad that worked.”
“Yes, otherwise, it would have been terribly awkward,” Ivy said.
“How are you feeling, Alicia? That wasn’t too taxing for you, was it?”
Alicia shook her head. “Oh, no, Miss Morton was right. I could feel your magic reaching out for mine, but the spell hardly required anything of me.”
Then Alicia’s eyes rolled up into her head and she dropped to the floor in a heap of fluffy green skirts.
Ivy and I both shouted and dropped to our knees. I propped Alicia’s head against my knees as Ivy checked her pulse and waved a lace fan over her face.
“Should we call for Headmistress Lockwood?” Ivy asked.
“Yes!” I frantically searched the hallway, but found no one to call for help. “How is this the one time we find ourselves in an empty hallway?”
“Because if I did this in a crowded hallway, your response wouldn’t be nearly this funny.”
We looked down to find Alicia grinning up at us, her usually pale cheeks flushed pink with glee. “You should have seen the looks on your faces.”
“Oh, you!” Ivy stood and flung the fan at Alicia. She ducked and the fan bounced off of the wall behind her.
“You are horrible,” I told her as she cackled.
She shrugged her thin shoulders. “One must find ways to entertain herself.”
12
Mirror, Mirror
The streets of Lightbourne looked somehow brighter and more colorful as the carriage rattled down the cobblestones. I was going home. I might be able to sneak around the spells somehow to see my family. At the very least, I would be able to relax within the walls of Raven’s Rest, where my secrets were known.
Now, as my carriage rattled toward Raven’s Rest, I read through Alicia’s ancestor’s journal for more mentions of the Grimstelles. I thought of the stained glass in the library and the strange blobby bird that looked as if it had been removed from the glass. What if it hadn’t been removed? What if it hadn’t been meant to appear at all? The school had been built centuries after the Grimstelles were weeded out from Guardian society. What if some girl, some leftover Grimstelle had tried to add her family crest to the ceiling to recapture some glory for her house? Maybe she’d done it badly or a teacher caught her and undid her work. I found myself feeling sorry for that girl, the last in her line, trying to claim her place in a world that no longer wanted her.
Still, I couldn’t blame the Guardians for not wanting the Grimstelles at their tea parties. The very idea of raising the dead, making them dance like puppets on strings, made me shiver. And an army of them marching through the streets of Lightbourne? The stuff of childhood nightmares. And beneath those upsetting images, an undercurrent of thought gnawed at Miss Morton’s assurances that the Grimstelles were long-extinct. Necromancy sounded uncomfortably close to Mr. Crenshaw’s talent for mental manipulation he’d tried to use on me at the social.
Phillip landed on my hand and pecked lightly. I grinned, stroking a finger along the velvety blue feathers on his head. He chirped and the dragonfly vibrated in response, glowing warm and gold.
“You’re going to want to avoid Horus, Phillip,” I sighed. “I don’t care what Owen says. He’s an ankle-clawing menace.”
Phillip bobbed his head.
As the grand old house came into view, I felt the weight of Cassandra Reed slide from my shoulders. I was plain Sarah Smith again, and my skin felt like my own. A pleasant warmth vibrated along the dragonfly on my palms, as if my mark was somehow happy to be home, too. I never thought I would be so pleased to see the gates of Raven’s Rest, which had meant work and tension for most of my childhood.
But while I wasn’t exactly a member of either family under the Raven’s Rest roof, at least I didn’t have to worry about my hands or my speech or my manners giving me away.
A huge smile broke over my face as the footman, Simon, helped me down from the coach. The shadow of the grey stone house didn’t seem so intimidating. Simon ran ahead to open the door for me. I thanked him politely, but felt oddly disappointed when the man I’d known since I was a toddler didn’t even lift his eyes to respond. Before I could ask him what was wrong, I saw Mum in the entryway, dusting some of Mr. Winter’s larger avian specimen cases. I guessed that she’d had to take over some of my household duties with me away at school. She turned, caught sight of me in my pretty lilac daydress and gasped.
She rushed toward me, smiling broadly. “Oh, Sarah, just look at you! You’re so pretty! So different. And you’ve grown so tall!”
“Mum,” I said, starting towards her with my hands outstretched. The metal dragonfly flashed from my palms as I walked through a beam of sunlight from the foyer window. Mum flinched as the light hit her eyes and she backed away.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you, Miss Cassandra. Mrs. Winter forbid it.” Mum bowed her head and walked toward the kitchen.
“Mum, I have so much I want to tell you. Please don’t leave.”
“I love you. Don’t you ever forget.”
But the door to the kitchen was already swinging shut.
I stood in the foyer of Raven’s Rest, on marble I’d scrubbed hundreds of times. It had never seemed so unfamiliar. My own mother couldn’t talk to me. When I tried to step close to her, she backed away. Admittedly, this wasn’t entirely new. She was always backing away from me. Ever since I was little, she pulled away from my hugs. She was too busy to talk, always bustling around, giving the chores her attention. Giving me my pill every morning was the closest she came to doting on me. Was that it? The pills? The magic? Was Mum afraid of getting too attached to me because she feared she’d lose me? Or because she was afraid I would bring the wrath of the Coven Guild on our heads? Was I the reason Papa started drinking so much? Had I broken my own family without even realizing it?
The grandfather clock ticked away the seconds as saw my childhood through grey, joyless lenses. I felt my eyes well up just as footsteps fell at the top of the grand staircase.
“Mum, what was that noise?” Mary came bustling down the stairs, carrying a basket of table linens.
“Mary!” I’d squealed, nearly tripping over my wide ruffled skirts as I gamboled towards her. Mum’s reluctance flew out of my head as I threw my arms around her.
I’d missed my sister more than I thought possible. I’d even missed Mary’s teasing, her sly smiles as she needled me with one of her little jokes. But now, Mary wasn’t smiling. She didn’t return my hug. Heck, Ivy had given me a warmer embrace before I left the school. Mary didn’t even seem happy to see me. She tore away from me, putting the laundry basket between us like a shield.
“Don’t you touch me,” she hissed. Her lip curled back as she took me in from head to toe, like the dress I was wearing was sort of personal betrayal. “Not after what you’ve done.”
I recoiled from her, feeling as if I’d been slapped. “What did I do?”
Mary had always been quick to upset, but her flashes of emotion never ran deep. A pretty bribe or a boring afternoon were usually enough to nudge her through being annoyed with me. But now, now, staring into those eyes felt like falling into a well, a dark, deep pit with snakes at the bottom.
“You think I don’t know what’s going on here?” Mary growled. “You faked this whole thing. You figured out some way to make it look like you have magic so the Winters would take you in and you could get closer to Owen!”
“Wha-What?” I stepped back from her, my mouth hanging open like a beached trout. I hadn’t seen Mary in weeks, and that was all she had to say to me? Did she really think I was capable of this sort of deceit, faking magic? And to believe I’d done it to get closer to Owen, who as far as I knew, hadn’t looked at me twice since we were children. The revelation that my basic make-up was somehow wrong, had torn our family apart, turned my life upside down and threatened the very fabric of our society, but all Mary could think of was her silly crush on Owen? That was all she cared about?
I loved my sister. I knew she was silly and occasionally vain, but I loved her. That love had blinded me to how deep this obsession with Owen Winter twisted inside of her. She didn’t say anything about missing me or wanting me to come home. She was angry at me for not including her in my “ruse.” For her to think so low of me cut me to my core.
Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1) Page 16