by Katie Cross
I think he’s going to try to go after Dane, I had told my friend, Isobel, in confidence.
It seemed likely that was Derek’s next move, but the confirmation did help me move a few final pieces into place. Now, she gestured to Papa’s prostrate form on the ground, I have you and your father right where I want you. You have two hours to release my daughter. Mabel will know where to find me. Bring her to me, and I’ll have your father for you. What happens after that is entirely up to you.
The shame burned so hot in my throat I almost couldn’t breathe. I forced myself to calm, to stay in the moment. I never thought I’d face a witch more cunning and infuriating than Miss Mabel.
But I had been wrong oh-so-many times.
Sign a binding right now, I said, fist clenched. Or I won’t do a damn thing for you.
Angelina conjured a parchment out of vapors.
It will be in your bedroom when you awake, she said in her strange, calm manner. Two hours.
Will You Help Me?
I shot awake with a gasp.
Chilly air embraced me. Evening shadows filled the apartment, the setting sun covered by thick storm clouds churning in the sky. I sat upright so fast my head whirled. A rolled piece of parchment waited next to me on the table. I yanked it open to find a damning witness to the greatest of all my nightmares.
I bind myself in agreement to keep Derek Black alive until such time as my daughter is safely delivered into my care and no longer in the dungeons.
Her signature swooped across the bottom. Angelina.
The letter caused a wash of shame to spill over me. Angelina wasn’t Angelina, not really. She was Isobel. She was death and darkness and betrayal. I’d been duped. I closed my fist around the binding. I had to make this right. I had to have my revenge.
One way or another.
I pushed off the couch, grateful that I remembered every event without the strange haze of a dream to get in the way. I needed help. The moment I showed up with Miss Mabel, I had to get Papa out of there, or both of us would die. Just as I shoved my hair out of my eyes and settled on a haphazard new plan, a letter fluttered in front of my face and unfolded itself.
I’m with Jansson saving Chatham City, Leda’s handwriting said. I’ll find you when I’m safe again. Don’t worry about me, but I’m seeing only darkness for you. Be safe.
“Saving Chatham City?” I muttered in confusion. “What?”
A loud noise reverberated through the room. I crinkled Leda’s letter in my fist and tossed it into the cold bank of coals, wondering where Reeves had gone.
“Bianca!” Merrick yelled, banging on the door. “Open up!”
The door slammed open against the wall on my command. Merrick barreled inside, a bloody split down the middle of his bottom lip. Once his eyes fell on me, he let out a breath of relief.
“Good. You’re all right. The Western Network is attacking,” he said, rushing to the window and glancing outside. “They’ve broken through the Borderlands and are moving through the Western Covens toward Chatham City. Zane sent me to take you to Newberry, where it should be safest.”
“What?”
“The West Guards are pushing through the Western Covens as we speak, moving across the land to invade Chatham City,” he repeated impatiently. “But the Factios will probably take over long before they arrive. I need to get you out of here.”
I hurried to the window to find fire spreading through pockets of Chatham City. A strange popping sound came from the distance. If the Factios controlled Chatham City and the West Guards were on their way, Chatham Castle would be at the mercy of invaders.
Of Angelina.
“The gypsies,” I whispered, whirling around to face him. “Are the gypsies fighting? Can they hold the city?”
“I think they’re fighting, but whether they’re able to hold the city or not I don’t know. It doesn’t look good. Jansson just removed Clive as Coven Leader and took over the entire thing. Jansson has a fast mind, so there might be a chance. Tiberius is occupied with a new wave of attacks from the Southern Network and can’t help.”
Leda’s letter suddenly made more sense.
“He has Leda,” I said. “She can help more than you think.”
“We can’t spare many Guardians to help Chatham City because they’re trying to stop the South and West Guards.” Merrick painted a bleak picture. How bleak he didn’t even know.
So this was Angelina’s final push. Her attempt to take over the world would culminate tonight. Papa captured. Her daughter set free. The Central Network attacked on three fronts. I pushed all the news away. The Network could take care of itself. It had to. In the meantime, I had to save Papa or die trying.
“Have you seen Papa?” I asked.
“What?”
“Where’s Papa?”
Merrick’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. “He’s on a mission.”
“Do you know where?”
“No,” he lied, as he was supposed to.
“Does Zane?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Zane that he has to go to Papa now. We might not be too late. Maybe Zane can save him.”
Merrick’s eyes narrowed. “Bianca, what’s—”
“Just do it!” I cried. The binding in my hand was proof enough that everything I’d witnessed was real, but I had to be sure. What if Angelina was trying to trick me? What if none of that had actually happened, but I thought it had, and I let Miss Mabel go free? I couldn’t underestimate Angelina in any regard. “Trust me! Angelina … she’s … just go!”
Merrick hesitated. “I’m supposed to take you to Stella’s old estate in Newberry. It’s not safe here. It was a direct order from the Head of Protectors.”
“Angelina has Papa. Zane might be able to help. Maybe he can find him, I don’t know. But not if you’re wasting time. Go!”
I shoved him toward the door. His eyes held just enough panic to reassure me that he’d do what I said and ask questions later. He paused in the doorway, swallowing.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Bianca.”
“Go!”
After shooting me one last murderous look of frustration, he disappeared. I summoned Viveet with an incantation. The clock on the wall taunted me with every tick of its hand.
You have two hours.
Only one witch would know how to help me break into the dungeons and get Papa home. If Isadora had really been convinced this was the only way to end the war, she’d be waiting for me.
“I hope you’re home, Isadora,” I murmured, transporting into the night.
The trees of Letum Wood whipped past my face as I ran for Isadora’s cottage alone, promise to Stella forgotten. What did it matter now? Angelina didn’t have to hunt for me. She had me right in her hideous claws.
I’d transported close to Isadora’s cottage but not right to it, giving myself a stretch of trail to let my legs fly free. The dragon that had lived in my heart resurfaced with a vengeful fury. My fingertips tingled with power, so much stronger than I had ever been before. If I wanted to make it through the night, I needed an outlet for the rampant energy stirred by the image of Papa screaming in pain. My feet had numbed to the discomfort of stepping on rocks and roots, and I flew with the speed of a bird of prey.
Isadora’s cottage came sooner than I expected, or maybe I’d run faster than I thought. The worst flares of rage had calmed when I stormed up her porch and threw myself into her cottage.
“Isadora!” I cried, my chest heaving. “I need to—”
“I know, Bianca,” she said, lifting a hand to stop me. She stood in the middle of her cottage, as if she had known I was coming after all. “Sanna and I have been waiting for you.”
I doubled over, my ribs aching, my sides cramped. Sanna and Isadora exchanged a knowing look—never mind that Sanna was supposed to be blind—and waited for me to catch my breath.
“I need—”
“I’ve seen what you need already.”
“Great. Will yo
u … help me?”
“I cannot go with you to save your father, but I can aid you now.”
“With releasing Miss Mabel? Can you help me break her free?” The sudden worry that my deal with the Almorran Master had been too hasty overcame me. Perhaps I had promised something that could not be. Releasing Miss Mabel might unleash a far greater evil power. But to forfeit Papa’s life on a chance?
To just let Angelina win?
Isadora and Sanna exchanged another cryptic glance, as if they didn’t need sight to really see each other. “Are you ready?” Isadora asked her sister. Sanna nodded.
“So is the blue.”
“Then get going. You’ll need all the time you can get. Go with speed and safety.”
Sanna hesitated, throwing her blind eyes in my direction. “Be safe, sister,” she said in a raspy voice. “Our lives are tied together. Nicolas still hasn’t bonded with the purple, and I don’t fancy it will happen without me there to help.”
Sanna disappeared with a soft sigh of moving air. I opened my mouth to ask Isadora what their strange conversation meant, but she cut me off.
“There is no other way to save Antebellum than to release Miss Mabel.” Her confidence gave me a boost of strength I desperately needed. “You must go forward with your plan even though I sense much doubt and frustration on your part. You’re doing exactly what needs to be done.”
I sensed an undercurrent in her words, something that went deeper than saving my father. A heavy knot in my chest formed where my heart used to be.
“What do you mean?”
“Angelina will take over Chatham City tonight unless we stop her. The moment Chatham City falls, so does the castle, and then the Central Network. This is her final plan. She wants her daughter at her side to share the victory.”
I swallowed. As if the cards weren’t stacked enough against us tonight, adding one more dimension to the already complicated fight made me nervous. But at least it meant Angelina needed Papa or me to release Miss Mabel. Which meant I still had a chance.
“How do we stop Angelina?”
“We don’t. We aren’t powerful enough, not against such dark magic.”
My heart plummeted. “Then who? This can’t be all for nothing.”
“Mabel. She’s the only one who can.”
“What?” I fell to my knees, unable to take one more surprise. “Miss Mabel will fight her mother? But Angelina said they are going to rule together.”
Isadora grimaced. “Mabel will gladly destroy Angelina, if my interpretation is right, anyway, and I’ve never been wrong.”
“If she defeats Angelina, we’re just delaying the war,” I said. “Miss Mabel will try to take over, just as Angelina is now.”
Isadora agreed with a low hum. “Yes, but it gives us a chance to fight. Freedom is earned, Bianca. Not given. No witch is infallible. Angelina can fall, and so can Mabel. Let us hope on that. Releasing Miss Mabel will change the future in a way that may enable us to find the Book of Light.”
“But you don’t know for sure that it will.”
“No. Nothing is certain.”
The mention of the book granted me a moment of courage. At least Isadora hadn’t given up on it. “Angelina is Isobel,” I added bitterly. Isadora nodded once but betrayed nothing with her expression. “I … I fell into her hands. I enabled all of this to happen. Isadora, this is all my fault!”
“No,” she said. “It’s not. You were too trusting, yes, but that says more about her than about you. This outcome would likely have come eventually, if not by some other way. You can make it right tonight, Bianca.”
“Have you already seen what’s going to happen?” I asked. “Can I save Papa by setting Miss Mabel free? Will that stop Angelina?”
“It’s hard to say,” Isadora said with great reluctance. “Without the Book of Light, we cannot prevent Angelina from conducting Almorran magic, which puts us at a heavy disadvantage. I don’t know if we can stop Angelina or save your father.”
“Is there even a small possibility that I could bring Papa back before Angelina kills him or both of us?”
She paused, and I let it ride, knowing she was looking into future possibilities. Whatever she saw must not have been good because the creases in her forehead deepened.
“You cannot,” she concluded, “but Mabel can.”
My eyes narrowed in disbelief. Miss Mabel would never save my father. The madness of this night just kept deepening.
“Time is counting down, my girl. Let us act now, or you’ll run out of it completely. What do you know about the magic holding Miss Mabel in her cell?”
“I know it opens only to Papa’s blood.”
Isadora appraised me with narrowed eyes. “You’re so much like Derek, this should work. It may cost a lot of power, for you are not Derek, but the lock should still open. The familiarity of your blood will be diluted. It’s as simple as an incantation and a blood sacrifice.”
“That’s it?”
“Reversing complicated magic isn’t as difficult as implementing it,” she said, waving a book down from a high shelf. “I have the incantation here.”
“How did you get a hold of the incantation? I thought it was only allowed to the Highest Witch.”
Her eyes twinkled with dimmed pleasure. “Because your father trusts me without question.” She rifled through the pages and glanced up at me once she found what she wanted. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s free Mabel and save our Network.”
“There’s no way this is going to work,” I muttered, shaking my head. The door to Mrs. L’s private chambers loomed in front of me, almost as foreboding as the task of releasing Miss Mabel. “Isadora is off her rocker if she thinks Mrs. L will help me do anything except walk into a cave of snakes.”
Except for the dragons, no one hated my presence more than Mrs. L, the Head Housekeeper of Chatham Castle. My penchant for running around in bare feet and wreaking havoc with all my adventures meant she didn’t trust me not to ruin the control she held over the castle. She’d been running Chatham for ages, some rumors said even before she turned twenty-five. Putting age on a woman like Mrs. L was unnatural. She was an eternal creature that belonged to the castle and somehow knew everything.
Seconds after I rapped on her door, it creaked open, revealing her pinched face. Dim candlelight flowed from her bedroom out to the hall, illuminating her from behind. To my relief, she still wore her uniform. Of course she did. The world could end tonight. No doubt she’d be busy making sure the castle remained clean while it fell.
“Merry meet, Mrs. L,” I said, swallowing. “I came to request a favor.”
If possible her thin face elongated even further. She said nothing.
“Well, Isadora sent me, actually. I need help.”
“Isadora told me you’d be coming,” she said, straightening. “I’ve been waiting for you, which is very kind of me considering all there is to do tonight. Wait right here.”
She slammed the door in my face and returned moments later, a shawl around her shoulders.
“That’s it?” I asked incredulously. “You’re going to help me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, Bianca Monroe, I was once a young witch like you.” I certainly didn’t believe it, but I kept my mouth shut. She continued. “I lived in days that were dark and frightening as well. When a witch like Isadora asks a favor, I do it without wanting or needing an explanation. Now follow me,” she finished with a snap. “I haven’t got all night.”
Not daring to protest, I did as she instructed.
We wound through the castle with impressive speed, seeing no one else along the way. She stopped unexpectedly on a deserted stretch of stone hall and pressed her hand to a wall on my left. A flash of light formed at the tip of her fingers and transferred into the stones. They moaned, shuddered, and a small portion of the wall, just large enough for me to duck through, peeled away. A wave of frigid, musty air billowed out o
f the space.
“It worked,” she said in relief while stepping back. “I haven’t used that spell in some time. Follow the stairs down. Make two rights. When you come upon a dead end, press your hand to it, and it will let you in. You won’t get back through that way unless you have the right incantation, which you don’t and never will,” she added with a haughty tilt of her chin. “So don’t mess up.”
“Where does it end?”
“The dungeons.”
I should have been surprised that she had a mental map of the dungeons of all places, but I wasn’t.
“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t know the dungeons well enough to transport there, and using that magic would draw the Guardians, who would ask questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Sneaking through the castle without being seen would be infinitely easier through the secret passageways.
“I won’t presume to understand why you’re doing whatever it is you are doing,” Mrs. L said as if I hadn’t thanked her, “nor do I want to even know what it is, but I can understand that desperate times call for desperate measures. Whatever you do, don’t mess it up.”
On that note, Mrs. L spun on her heel and departed. I stared at the open passageway with a moment’s hesitation before plunging inside.
Infinitely More
The dungeons were filthy and disgusting when I wasn’t trying to slink through them, but all my heightened senses made their raunchy stink far worse.
Because the Guardians used magic to prevent the escape of criminals, only a few Guardians worked in the dungeons now. They were more needed in the war. I heard steps only once, and I ducked into an empty cell until they passed. After that, all I could hear was the drip of water in the background, the occasional scream of someone driven mad with boredom, and the restless clink of metal on stone.
I didn’t know where I was at first, so it took me at least twenty minutes to orient myself in the darkness. When I finally found the door leading into Miss Mabel’s personal prison, a cold rush of dread gripped my heart like a fist.
Here I was, facing Miss Mabel yet again.
“For Papa,” I whispered, opening the door with the spell that I’d overheard him use before. The heavy wooden door creaked on old hinges, admitting a single sliver of light. One lone torch burned in the close cell, barely illuminating the bars that held Miss Mabel prisoner.