Miss Mabel's School for Girls: The first book in the Network Series

by Katie Cross

  I resisted the urge to reach for it, imagining barbs from the thorn bushes hanging down my back. Certainly not how a respectable young girl should meet the leader of her Network, but I couldn’t change what had happened. Camille would shake me when she found out. Miss Scarlett’s lips would press into that disappointed line.

  You only get one chance to introduce yourself to the High Priestess.

  And I botched mine very thoroughly, to no great surprise. I had the condolence of knowing both curtsies passed, however, and took strength in that. Perhaps Miss Scarlett wouldn’t condemn me to an eternity of etiquette lessons.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” I said for lack of anything else, curling my toes even further. I nearly stood on them, and my joints smarted with pain. “The bun gave me a headache on my way over, and I forgot to replace it.”

  A long, willowy man at her side interrupted with a whisper I couldn’t hear. He had a drippy nose and red eyes. The High Priestess waved him off.

  “Yes, Donald, please seal the doors.”

  A clicking, whirring sound came from behind me, then swept through the room with a broad, methodical stroke. A burst of air moved past and all fell silent again.

  “Go sit with your teacher,” she said to me with the same dismissive wave. “We will now begin.”

  Relieved to be out of the center of the room, I turned to the right and walked to the end of the table with small steps that kept my feet within my hem. A woman with graying auburn hair met my eyes and smiled with the corner of her lips. Her eyes flickered to the floor and back to mine.

  Horrified, I looked away as if we’d never made eye contact in the first place.

  Miss Mabel smiled as I sat in the chair next to hers. The empty wine glass sparkled at her fingertips.

  “Welcome,” she whispered, a gleam in her eyes. “You did marvelous, throwing that error back in her face. I would have given you the Esbat mark for that.”

  I didn’t say anything. The wine refilled itself in her glass when I sat down and pulled a roll of parchment, a jar of white ink, and the peacock feather out of my bag. I wondered if the wine made Miss Mabel a little too bold. It was a risky thing to say with the High Priestess so near.

  The High Priestess focused her gaze on someone to the right. I made the assumption that Donald was the High Priestess’s Assistant, as he constantly fluttered through papers, muttering to himself and watching her every move.

  “As I was saying before we were interrupted, the High Priest could not attend this Esbat. He is sick at home today. Please do an invocation and blessing for healing on his behalf. Melinda from the Eastern Coven will address us first. Have the problems arising from the flood last month been resolved?”

  On the other side of the room, a middle-aged woman with faded red hair and a concerned expression stood.

  “Yes, Your Highness. The support team of builders from the Network rebuilt the bridges and restored supplies to our farmers. Thank you for your assistance.”

  “I’m glad it was sufficient.”

  Melinda sat down.

  “Mr. Crabtree from Tillan’s Cove Coven,” the High Priestess said without missing a beat

  I started to outline the events as the people in the room spoke, trying to commit their faces to my memory. It didn’t take long to realize that most of the people were Coven leaders, here to present their communities’ issues to the Network. Their assistants sat off to the side, and I imagined Leda there one day, with her pale face and high opinions.

  There were people who never spoke at all. They lingered in the shadowy background with no particular purpose. Most of them looked to be in their thirties, but a few were middle aged. It wasn’t until I counted ten of them that I realized they made up the Council of Leaders. Like Miss Mabel, they hid their true ages. Papa had told me stories regarding several of the Council Members, many of whom were at least ninety. I wondered about the High Priestess. Why didn’t she hide her true age? Or did she?

  One by one, the Coven leaders stood and reported their business. Unemployment in one Coven. Disappearance of a farmer and his family in another. Notice of a runaway schoolboy. Parents dissatisfied with the education system. A deception spell gone awry. There were at least forty covens in the Network, but not all were represented tonight.

  The High Priestess called on Miss Mabel. Instead of standing as the others did, she remained in her seat with a subtle gleam of defiance.

  “The Eastern Letum Wood Coven has no issues to report,” Miss Mabel stated in a business-like tone. “I met with the lower leaders prior to coming. They voiced no concerns.”

  The High Priestess’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but she accepted it with a nod.

  “Very well. Bickers Mill Coven …”

  Darkness surrounded the school by the time I returned. The warm light of candles dancing in the windows illuminated the school, defying a black band of vapor that shielded Letum Wood.

  “Thank you, Augustus,” I said in a weary voice as I exited the carriage. “Have a good night.”

  He nodded and drove off, his eyes a bit bloodshot from his time at the pub if his jovial singing on the road home gave any indication. The carriage evaporated into the fog with the slow plod of the horse, leaving me alone. I stayed there, breathing in the night until the chill seeped through my clothes and forced me inside.

  I slipped through the hall, absorbed with thoughts of my grandmother. An eagerness like I’d never known gripped me. I wanted the curse removed tonight, this moment. Yesterday, even. Better to spare her as much pain as I could.

  Despite the thrill of exultant joy hovering under my skin, a heavy exhaustion weighed down my legs when I started up the spiral staircase. I slowed down. It was late. The grandfather clock gonged below, announcing eleven o’clock. A new black rug ran the length of the stairs, as did bunches of black ribbon wreaths the students must have made for a celebration. Samhain must be coming up soon.

  Every floor I passed was quiet, the sounds of life reduced to subtle creaks and the quiet shuffles of last-minute bedtime rituals. I envied them and didn’t know why. Maybe it was because I wished to be asleep, my fatigued eyes drooping and weary.

  Not yet. Grandmother awaited.

  A single light illuminated the space underneath Miss Mabel’s door. I held my breath and stood on the landing, listening. The shuffle of two voices came from her private bedroom. A giggle, then a rakish growl.

  The throaty tones of a man’s voice.

  I quickly cast a concealment spell, intrigued. It fell over me in an icy rush. My body blended in with the background, becoming nothing more than floorboards and stone. As long as I stayed motionless, no one would see me. If I moved, they’d see ripples in the air, like heat waves. Once the spell was complete, I crept forward, pressing my back against the wall. It wasn’t long before Miss Mabel’s dulcet words met my ears.

  “Oh, how you make me laugh!”

  The same low growl repeated, followed by a chiding reprimand.

  “Stop that,” she said. “I don’t want you drawing attention up here. Bianca will return any minute now. We can’t afford discovery, can we?”

  Fabric rustled. My heart thudded in my chest, drumming out a frightened rhythm. Who was the man?

  “Then tell me about the Esbat,” the unknown voice said. “Did I miss anything important?”

  I didn’t know his voice. He must be a Coven leader if he had missed the Esbat.

  “Nothing but the same old complaints. Mildred looked horrid in her dress. I don’t know how you put up with her every day.”

  The puzzle pieces of this unknown mystery man began moving together like the slow movement of a clock.

  Tick

  “I try not to see her every day,” he said in a wry drawl. “Did your Assistant earn the mark?”

  The eagerness in his voice sent a chill through my body.

  “Of course,” Miss Mabel’s voice purred. “As if you ever doubted my judgment, Briton.”

  Tock.

>   The High Priest. Miss Mabel was having an affair with the High Priest. My nails gripped the chinks in between stones in the wall, anchoring me, reminding me that I wasn’t imagining things.

  “Did she really pass?” he asked.

  Miss Mabel moved slightly, and her voice became easier to hear. She let out a long sigh, as if she savored every molecule of air.

  “Yes, and that’s not the most exciting thing,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “She transported.”

  My blood ran cold, like little spears of ice attacking from the inside, paralyzing every muscle in my body. She knew. I didn’t know how she’d discovered it, but she knew.

  “A sixteen-year-old?”

  Miss Mabel made a noise low in her throat.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said.

  “Believe it. I watched her. It’s how she avoided the Guardians at the very beginning, just as I thought. It was a last minute adjustment to my plan but a good one.”

  The sound of pacing footsteps jolted me. I slid to the floor, my knees too weak to hold my body upright. This was not good. Not good at all. This evening was changing from bad to nightmare on a course I couldn’t stop. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.

  Reckless. My desperation tonight made me reckless. Leda’s words haunted me.

  Do you ever think before you act?

  No, clearly I didn’t, and now I’d pay.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” he said.

  “It proves she’s got courage, like I thought. Talent, too. She thinks quick on her feet. Her homework is atrocious, but her magic is strong. That’s what really counts.”

  A silence fell that twisted my insides to shreds.

  “She’s capable yes, but will she have enough power?” he asked.

  “I think so. I think she has a great deal more power than she lets on,” Miss Mabel said in a voice I had to strain to hear. “Or knows about yet.”

  “How do you know she’s strong enough for the task?”

  “We’ll find out soon,” she said.

  “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing too extraordinary. I’m just going to test her a little, see if she can handle it.” An innocent tone, as if she spoke of summertime or flowers. My chest rose and fell in desperate gasps, making me lightheaded. I bowed my head into my knees and screwed my eyes shut, forcing my breathing to slow.

  “Wonderful,” he said. I could tell he meant it. “How?”

  “I’m going to see how much control she has over her power when she experiences intense emotions. Once we turn those on, the power doesn’t turn off.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Pain?”

  “No,” she scoffed. “Something infinitely stronger.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re going to make her angry.”

  “Yes,” she giggled. “Very angry.”

  I pressed my fingertips to my lips to prevent them from emitting a horrified cry. The High Priest’s heavier steps followed. When I heard their voices again they were hushed, as if they spoke from an embrace. I could hear the individual words no more.

  The sound of footsteps came from the spiral stairs, startling me. I shot to my feet, stumbling toward my bedroom with an out-of-my-mind pulse of fear. I had to get out of there, away from the suffocating evil of their words, away from the risk of getting caught.

  Somehow in my hurry my foot caught on the loop of my bag. I bobbled, bouncing back and forth, trying to recover, but it only wrapped my ankles tighter together. My arms flailed as I reached for the wall to no avail. I shot forward, landing with a leaden thud, the floorboards skimming my face and chin.

  The sound rang out through the attic, freezing time. The air was completely still. I held my breath.

  Miss Mabel’s door creaked open, spilling a shaft of light onto my body.

  29

  Wasted

  My lungs burned. Tears stung my eyes from the fall, threatening to drip onto the floor. I didn’t risk looking at the rest of my body to make sure the spell held.

  “Sorry to bother you this late, Mabel,” Miss Scarlett said. “I finished the paperwork for the third-years’ Network Mark applications. They want only your signature.”

  It took all my control not to move when Miss Scarlett entered the attic, announcing herself with her inflexible voice. Her quiet footsteps were almost silent, as if she hovered just above the ground and only made the motions of walking to make it look real. My already sinking luck took on more water.

  In only a few steps Miss Scarlett would trip over me.

  Miss Mabel took another step forward. I felt the floorboard beneath my right foot shift from her weight.

  “Did you fall, Scarlett?”

  Her slow words and low tone made my heart plummet. Why hadn’t I just minded my own business and gone to bed? Instead, I was seconds away from discovery, sprawled on the floor like a rug.

  “Yes,” Miss Scarlett stopped moving toward me. Her feet were so close it made my eyes cross. “I tripped on the stairs on my way up.”

  I blinked. Had Miss Scarlett just lied?

  There had been a noise that caught my attention before I fell, but the idea of Miss Scarlett tripping on a stair seemed ludicrous. I’d never seen her stiff, upright spine bend.

  “I see,” Miss Mabel murmured with another step into the hallway. The floorboard groaned in protest as she stepped to the left of my foot. I didn’t need to see her face to know her eyes flickered around the room. The air felt so unfriendly I could almost smell her unease. “Are you sure? It seemed much closer than that.”

  “Quite sure,” she said in a clipped tone, readjusting her shoulders as if fixing her dress would rebuff her embarrassment at being human like the rest of us. “It’s getting late. Here are the papers. I trust you’ll send them once you’re done. Please excuse me. There are a few first-years just below you that I heard giggling. I would like to remind them of the rules before they go to bed.”

  I wondered if adhering the rules lent comfort to her ruffled pride.

  Several scrolls tied in a bundle floated from Miss Scarlett’s hands. Another stretch of silence that seemed like an eternity. My heart would give me away, surely. Couldn’t they hear it slam against the floor?

  “Good night, Scarlett,” Miss Mabel finally said.

  Miss Scarlett was already on her way down the stairs but stopped to ask over her shoulder, “Did Bianca pass the Esbat mark?”

  No, no, no! I wanted to scream. Any mention of me would make Miss Mabel suspicious over my delayed return.

  “Yes,” Miss Mabel drawled. She hadn’t moved an inch. My lungs burned again. “She passed. She should have been home by now.”

  Miss Scarlett nodded once.

  “Good night, Mabel.”

  She started down the stairs. Even after the last sign of her presence had faded, Miss Mabel remained, waiting. Finally, when I wasn’t sure I could stand it any longer, she shuffled backward. The light from the doorway slowly gathered together, narrowing into a thin stream that evaporated into black.

  Had I imagined it, or did Miss Scarlett’s eyes meet mine when she walked down the stairs?

  Exhausted, I pressed my cheek to the cold floor, let out a deep breath, and closed my eyes.

  The night lasted several eternities, dragging every minute as if it were a heavy club. I willed morning to come. Maybe the light would shine, illuminating the blackest shadows, the midnight gargoyles that I could feel breathing down my neck in the darkness. When I slept, it was for moments, filled with dreams of the High Priest, Miss Mabel, and the High Priestess all standing over me, telling me my birthday came the next day.

  I tossed and turned, wondering what the overheard conversation meant, replaying it all in my head, mixing it with my dreams. Miss Mabel’s giggle, the low voice of the High Priest, Miss Scarlett’s eyes on me as she left. Snatches of phrases haunted me like the wail of wraiths.

  Powerful emotions.

  Stronger tha
n pain.

  Very angry.

  I hovered between consciousness and sleep, trapped in the realm of dreams that dragged me into the depths with the demons, the fear, the unknown. I knew I wasn’t awake, just as I wasn’t resting. I was stuck in the middle, unable to get out.

  I jerked out of the clutch of the monsters with a gasp, tearing myself away.

  Several seconds passed before I realized something had awoken me. Sweat coated my skin. My heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird; thin, thready, fast. The black lingered outside, but I knew it was closer to morning than midnight by the short chimes of the distant grandfather clock in the library.

  A soft, almost imperceptible tap sounded on my door.

  I sat up. “Who is it?” I whispered. It came again.

  My heart stuttered when I scuttled out of bed, pulled open my door, and saw Leda and Camille huddled outside, casting nervous glances down the hall.

  “What are you doing?”

  Leda quieted me with a violent wave of her hand and motioned to Miss Mabel’s room with a jerk of her head. She grabbed Camille and shoved her inside. The moment I shut the door, Camille threw her arms around me.

  “Are you all right?” she whispered without bothering to pull away, her cheek pressed to mine. “We’ve been so worried all night.”

  Leda peeled her back.

  “Give her some air, Camille. Why am I always pulling you off her? Camille is right, Bianca. It hasn’t looked good for you tonight,” she said, turning to me. “I thought we better come check on how the Esbat went.”

  “What did you see?” I asked, breathless. Leda shrugged.

  “Gray.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was relief or fear that I felt in my stomach.

  “Are you okay?” Camille insisted again, grabbing my hand with a comforting squeeze. “I’ve been so nervous for you all night! I couldn’t sleep. It’s good to see you here safe! I wanted to bring you some warm tea, but Leda said Miss Celia would be up soon.”