The Untangled Cassie Black

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The Untangled Cassie Black Page 29

by Tammie Painter


  "You’re pretty damn organized for a group who couldn’t even sort out my class schedule," I said.

  "Don’t think that wasn’t organized," said Olivia. Then, as these Magics seem prone to do, she left that vague comment dangling in the air.

  "We’ve also been expecting for this for many years," said Mr. T, who had pistachio-green macaron crumbs on his jacket’s lapel. "Perhaps not this exactly, but we took what he’d done in the past and planned for contingencies based on that."

  There was something different about him. A warmer glow, like he’d been given a potent vitamin injection. My first thought was that it was Fiona’s influence. A man in love, and all that. That might have had something to do with it, but then it dawned on me.

  "Are you alive? Like, really alive, not just Cassie Black-induced alive."

  He put his first two fingers to his neck just under his jawline. His foot tapped along with the beat.

  "Haven’t felt that in a while."

  Just then, a black bird landed on the railing outside the window.

  "Is that Winston?" Olivia asked.

  "You can see him?" Mr. Tenpenny and I said as one.

  "What’s going on? Who’s Winston?" asked Rafi.

  "Winston is a Tower raven who was killed by the Mauvais. Only the dead, or those with certain powers," Busby said, indicating me, "should be able to see him. For him to be visible must mean… But he should have been well out of range since he was killed before— It makes no sense."

  "You’re making no sense, Mr. T," I said. "You spoke more eloquently as a zombie."

  "You see it right? The Mauvais killed Winston before he captured and extracted Simon and Chloe. The only way for the rest of you to see Winston is either for all of you to be dead, which I don’t think you are, or for Winston to have been returned back to life. And if he’s alive, that means our count of Devin Kilbride’s D-spells had to have been off. Correct?" he asked Olivia who was now scanning a sheet on her desk.

  "Yes, with the D-spells he’s done within the past week and that stunt with Alastair, Winston’s death should have been pushed out of range after Kilbride hit Las Vegas. That means the Starlings might be—"

  "We need to get to the hospital wing," I said. Ignoring the streaks of pain being painted from my hand all the way across my torso, I raced out of the office.

  Alastair caught up with me and we sprinted through the corridors, up the stairs, and to the room where my parents were recuperating. He whisked the door open and swept his arm to gesture me in.

  What greeted me shot all the pain I’d tried to ignore back into my body.

  * * *

  I had expected Runa and Nurse Jake to be buzzing about, thrilling over their patients’ recovery, and marveling at what must have just happened. But there was none of that. The nurse on staff — the mousey one again — was checking something off on her chart. Another staff member was wheeling a snack cart to those in the ward who could eat solid foods, and no one was showing any hint that this was anything more than another shift to get through.

  Mr. Tenpenny joined us. His look of confused disappointment matched my own sentiments.

  "But Winston was killed before your parents. I don’t understand. They should be better."

  "Not if the Mauvais didn’t put them in this state," I said flatly. I turned to Alastair. He jerked back, as if my look was a slap.

  "Cassie, you can’t think I did this. Not after—"

  "No, you dolt. You weren’t even on the same continent at the time. But someone Kilbride was allied with at the time was."

  Just then, Alastair’s gaze flicked to the hallway. His face went paler than an igloo and his eyes narrowed. I shifted to see what had upset him, but the hallway was empty except for a cart of supplies.

  "You said you got my note," he said, his eyes still focused on the hallway. Runa entered and looked about to scold me for being in there, but the look on Alastair’s face stopped her words.

  "We did," I replied. Alastair’s gaze, stony and determined, darted to me. I wondered if his brief time as a corpse had affected his mind.

  From her bed, my mother muttered the word white. She’d said this so many times, no one paid much attention. Except for Alastair.

  "She said ‘white’."

  "Yeah, she does that," I said impatiently. "Alastair, what’s got you so worked up?"

  "My note. I told you." His voice seething, fierce tension flicked across Alastair’s jaw. "Why is she still allowed to wander around? Who read the note?"

  "I did, we all did."

  "I don’t think you read the whole thing." He switched his attention to Olivia, then pointed at my mother. "She’s been telling you all along."

  "Alastair," said Runa gently, "did you hit your head at any point?"

  "No, shush, Runa," Olivia said, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes showed a realization that hadn’t quite dawned yet. "Alastair, go on."

  "I know what you are, Olivia. And I know what land your people come from originally. Do you know your people’s language? The old language?"

  "A word here or there," she replied cautiously. "Not fluently."

  "But do you know the word for white?" Alastair asked through lips that were tight with tension.

  Olivia played some syllables over her tongue. Then seemed to catch the one she was after as her eyes darkened.

  "Bán," she said, the word rhyming with gone. Then I recalled Banna recoiling as she worked her spell to reveal what Alastair had written.

  "Banna," Runa growled.

  But by then, I was already charging out the door.

  46 - THE SCREAM

  FOLLOWING IN MY wake of rage, Alastair, Tobey and Busby, shouted repeated orders for me to stop. I ignored them.

  I would kill her.

  Sure, it was a ridiculous thought. She’d already proven herself far more powerful than me, she had a few centuries of experience compared to my few weeks, and she wasn’t going into a fight after having been strapped to an evil, magic-sucking chair or having her hand stomped on.

  But I would kill her.

  The hallway was empty. Oh, great galloping Gandalf’s ghost! Of course I would have to face a set of stairs before jumping into this battle. The fates in charge of the White Tower were determined that I would have well-developed quads and calves by the time I left here. Whether that leaving was done dead or alive.

  Charging down the steps, I caught a cold blue light shifting from the stairwell to the hallway of the floor below. When I reached the landing, the glow disappeared into a room. I raced toward it, nearly slamming into the door in my haste.

  My fingers fumbled for the knob, then shoved the door open. The room was dark, but its only occupant was easy to find under the harsh gleam of that icy orb. Sunglasses perched jauntily on her head, Banna stood at the edge of the light. And I took a great deal of satisfaction in her shock at seeing me.

  Taking advantage of her moment of surprise, I knocked her back with my magic head butt. How closely had she worked with the Mauvais? What D-spells had she cast? Then, like molasses in winter, the understanding finally came to me that she was the one who had extracted my parents.

  I know, you probably figured that out several pages ago, but I was operating under a keg’s worth of stress hormones, so cut me some slack.

  But how many destructive spells had she cast since? I didn’t care. I didn’t give a flying rat’s behind if she’d already put my parents out of range. I wanted her dead.

  Trouble was, I didn’t exactly know any killing charms.

  I knew of the Exploding Heart Charm, but had no idea how to perform it. I’d heard the incantation the Mauvais used to kill Alastair, but that was another spell my lessons had failed to cover. I could have given either one a try, but I had no room for error. This wasn’t the time for experiments. Instead, I threw a Stunning Spell at her head, hoping to daze Banna enough to
keep her from fighting back. If it came down to it, I would strangle the witch to be rid of her.

  As Banna’s sunglasses clattered to the stone floor, the others piled into the room. They begged me to get away, to get out of Banna’s line of attack, but I ignored them.

  "Did you do that to my parents?" I demanded. "Did you ruin their lives, destroy their minds?"

  Banna lifted her chin, a smirk on her tiny face.

  "They had to be stopped. We were so close."

  "You weren’t close. The watch had been taken, safeguarded."

  "And I knew we would get it again. As long as we stayed low for a time I knew security would eventually get lax. And if I kept passing Devin Kilbride power, he would have the strength he needed once we stumbled onto it. I couldn’t ask around. I did try out a few Confounding Charms, but someone," she darted a glare over my shoulder, "had already set up countermeasures to that. Still, at my age, you’ve learned patience. The watch would come around. And it did. Unfortunately, you did too."

  And that was it, our pleasant little chat was over. There was no formality this time. There was no silly bowing to acknowledge one another. There was only sparring.

  Banna raised her arm and launched a Binding Spell my way. But this time was different than my test with her in the arena. This time, I’d gotten my magic ducks in a row. I immediately threw up a membrane, then a Shield Spell for extra measure. Her Binding Spell sparked as it hit my magical barrier.

  Banna grunted in fury. Then, perhaps wanting this to be just between us girls, she hurled three spells over my shoulder in quick succession. Tobey, Busby, then Alastair fell to the ground. I didn’t know what spells she’d used. I had to hope she’d only stunned them. Although, two of the three did have experience with coming back from the dead, so…

  As the bodies dropped to the ground, I sent a Flaming Arrow Charm straight toward Banna’s chest. She ducked aside, but not before she shrieked and pinched her eyes shut. Light, I realized. Not normally a weapon, but this fight was definitely not normal.

  An image of Alastair filled my mind, of the delight in his eyes at seeing me, of the kiss after he came back from the dead. A tight, hazel-colored orb as bright as a spotlight for a professional theater popped into being. My eyes squinted under the glare. Unfortunately, other than making her squint as well, the light was having no effect on Banna.

  She started laughing.

  "Control. You’ve been taught to control your magic, so that little trick no longer works."

  "It works. Look at that thing."

  "There’s no heat to it. Not anymore. Because you’ve learned control."

  "But the light," I said, stubbornly refusing to see her point as I made the orb shine a little brighter.

  "You think the light will send me to my grave? Light’s little more than annoying. I told you in our first meeting: it takes heat to do me in, you stupid girl, not light."

  Banna lifted her hands. The way she held them was oddly familiar. I’d seen it before, but as I said, I’d never been taught this spell. Time seemed to slow as her fingers splayed out in one sharp motion. And that’s when I recognized the spell. When Busby had tried to explain he’d been murdered, he’d shown me this very hand motion.

  The Exploding Heart Charm.

  I was going to die. I had lost.

  "Cassie, cover your ears," a woman shouted.

  In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not one who takes orders very well. I don’t like people telling me what to do, and when someone does make demands of me, my first instinct is to question that demand.

  But it’s never too late to change, right? Even when you’ve only got about three milliseconds of your life left.

  I slapped my hands to my ears and pressed them tight against my head. Yes, pain throbbed from the broken one, but something told me to ignore it and to keep my hands firmly in place.

  Olivia flicked one hand back. From the corner of my eye, I saw a faint glow settle over Tobey, Busby, and Alastair. Olivia marched past me, her hand held out, generating her own shield. Her mouth was open, and all I could think of was Edvard Munch’s painting "The Scream".

  A muffled cry found its way through the bones and tissue of my hands. I felt dizzy, nauseous. I thought perhaps this was due to the agony of squeezing a recently-damaged hand to my head, but when I looked to Banna, well, she wasn’t looking too hot either.

  Her face had turned grey and had broken out in a furious sweat, bringing to mind a perspiring heap of old wax. She tried to open her mouth, she tried to lift her hands for a spell, but any motion was halted by whatever Olivia was doing.

  Olivia kept approaching Banna, her mouth open the entire time. And that muffled cry, even though my ears were blocked as fiercely as I could manage, turned into a muffled screech. My head throbbed, my hand throbbed, my gut throbbed, but I kept my hands firmly glued to my ears as I watched Banna’s orb flaring, then shrinking, then glowing once more as if fighting to remain in existence.

  Olivia’s torso jutted forward with the strength of her scream. In a sudden flash of blinding light, the orb burst apart then winked out. Like a dying star, I thought, as Banna collapsed to the floor.

  Olivia, gasping for air and rubbing her stomach muscles, signaled me to lower my hands.

  "What the hell was that?" I asked. Or rather grunted. I was in a lot of pain at this point.

  "Banshee blood," Olivia replied, struggling to bring her breathing back to normal. "I’ve only got a drop of it. A full banshee, even a half one would have killed her in an instant. But I guess a drop’s all I needed."

  "What about—?" I whipped around. Alastair, Tobey, and Busby had been knocked out. They wouldn’t have been able to cover their ears. But when I looked at them, they were groggily coming to.

  "I conjured a Stoppering Spell over their ears. I almost didn’t finish it in time before that Exploding Heart Charm got to you."

  "You killed her," I said, still not fully believing it.

  "A banshee’s scream is deadly."

  "She was the one who extracted my parents, not the Mauvais."

  "She did it for the Mauvais," Busby said, rubbing his ears.

  Alastair, shaking his head like a cat with ear mites, strode up to me and tried to wrap me in his arms, but I stepped back, holding my hands up in front of me.

  "No offense, but I could really use a troll."

  47 - SOME EXPLANATION

  OLIVIA GAVE ONE last look at the crumpled form of Banna before turning her back on it and leaving the room.

  "Let’s get you to Chester," she said, shutting the door behind her once we were all out. "He’ll probably be glad to get out of his room."

  "Chester? He’s not in the dungeon?" Olivia gave me an odd look, like she had no idea what I was talking about. "Or prison, or wherever you stick people when you arrest them."

  "Chester was never arrested. Well, he was, in a way. He’s been kept in one of the hospital’s quarantine rooms since Runa was poisoned, but only for his own protection. I considered putting him in his own room, but no one would think or dare to look for him in the quarantine ward."

  "I don’t understand."

  "It was when you mentioned the stink in the armory after finding Tobey. I knew something was wrong then. Trolls give off an odor that’s distinctive, shall we say, when they’ve been put under a curse. A Confounding Charm, a Mirage Hex, any negative type of spell."

  "Morelli told me about that. It was on the tip of my tongue when I was explaining why Chester had to be innocent, but I couldn’t quite remember until—"

  Until I was about to step through a portal I thought was the illegal portal I’d asked Morelli to make, is what I did not say.

  "Anyway," Olivia said as we wound our way up the spiral stairs, "I’d put my money on a Coercion Spell. Banna likely put it on him the day Tobey came back. And after speaking with Chester, I’m convinced he was still under Banna’s spell
when he slipped poison into Runa’s champagne."

  "So he did do it," I said. "But why Runa?"

 

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