Miss Mabel's School for Girls (30 page)

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 than 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 towards 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.”

“Let’s hear it,” Leda said, her eyes on me.

“Better sit down,” I whispered, grateful beyond words that they had come. “It might take awhile to explain.”

They listened without interruption. Camille sat down halfway through, her knees wobbly. By the time I finished, Leda stood at the window with her hands behind her back, her jaw tight.

“She’s rotten,” Camille whispered. “Wicked and rotten, and I can’t believe it.”

“I can,” Leda muttered.

“What do you think Miss Mabel is going to do?”

A dark feeling crept over me just thinking about it, as if saying her name brought the fog from Letum Wood into my room.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It could be anything.”

“She wants to make you angry,” Camille whispered, her face scrunched in thought. “That means she’ll do something bad, or try to take something away that means a lot to you.”

“You’re a big comfort,” I muttered.

I didn’t like the direction she took because I had already been there myself. Leda leaned back against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. Her white nightgown peeked out from beneath her ratty scarlet robe. The big toe of her left foot stuck out from a slipper that looked too small by several sizes.

“Do you think she’ll stop you from going to the Samhain Festival?” Camille asked. “It’s tomorrow. I’d be angry if she tried to stop me from going, especially with all the food that’s going to be there. Miss Celia is making pumpkin frosting for her cinnamon buns.”

Attending a feast that celebrated death didn’t sound appealing to me in the first place, not when I fought against my own impending demise every day. I wondered if I could use Miss Mabel as an excuse not to attend. 

“I don’t think she’ll try that,” I said, my neck emitting a pop when I tilted back to stare at the sloping ceiling. “Think a bit . . . bigger.”

“That’s not the only thing to worry about,” Leda said. “Miss Mabel obviously has plans for you. That would scare me more than getting a little angry. Whatever she’s up to is not going to be good.”

“Would she give you a bad grade for no reason?” Camille asked, looking hopeful. A loopy giggle threatened my composure. Miss Mabel worked on a scale ranging from ruthless to inhuman. Grades weren’t her kind of vindictive delight. I wondered if Camille spoke of her biggest fear instead of mine. 

“No,” I said as Leda rolled her eyes. “It would be far worse than that.”

“Whatever Miss Mabel ends up doing, you’ll have to be careful,” Leda said. “She’s going to make it hurt.”

Her words were haunting. I pulled my knees to my chest to ward off a sudden chill.

“I know,” I whispered.

We all fell silent, caught up in the ghostly swirls of the unknown future.

•••

I ventured into the classroom the next morning to find Miss Mabel perusing a book. She slammed it shut as I walked in and shot me a smile. Eight or nine stacks of publications sat on my desk and the floor around it, occluding the whole workspace. Seeing my eyes on them, Miss Mabel swept her arm over the piles.

“Your new curriculum,” she said. “Since you did so well on your first mark, I thought we’d jump right into your next one. Don’t worry. I know now that you’re awful at homework, so I’m going to give you a month to read all these. We’ll play off your greater strength of using magic more than books this time.”

The spine of one book read,
Contrivance Curses and Their Uses Today
. Another book I’d never heard of was called,
The Complete Anthology of Dark Curses and Hexes
. Confused, I read the titles again to make sure they were correct. Contrivance curses were rooted in a rare kind of magic the Network didn’t allow. Miss Mabel ran her finger down one stack of encyclopedias with a look of innocent detachment.

“I thought you’d like to get the Advanced Curses and Hexes mark.” The tone of her voice suggested that, even if I wasn’t interested, I didn’t have a choice. 

“Advanced Curses and Hexes?” I asked before I could stop myself. Another rare mark, one that flirted with lines of appropriateness. Approval to teach it was difficult to gain. I didn’t know it was an option.

Then again, she had a special
in
with the High Priest. Her warm bed and base desires could probably get courses far darker than this approved.

“Of course. It’s always good to know how to curse someone, Bianca. One never knows when one might need that skill.”

Her eyes flashed with another little smile.

“I have Network approval?” I asked, just to be contrary. After what I heard last night, I’d snarl and snap my teeth at her if it wouldn’t make her suspicious. It felt good, mixing fear with a bit of courage, making me feel like I stood up to her, when really I depended on her for my life.

“You let me deal with them.” A glint of something in her voice made me feel cold. “You’ll have bigger things to worry about. We’ll start immediately.”

Deal with. Right. That’s why she had the High Priest over last night.

She walked her fingers along several books as she spoke, peering at me over the top of one stack. A book lined with purple leather shot out of a nearby column and fell into my arms. It hit with a thud, taking the wind out of me.

“I want you to read about hexes and complete these papers. When your overview is finished, we’ll start practicing.”

My eyes widened. No one put the Advanced Curses and Hexes mark into action. The normal class practiced a few little hexes but not the higher levels. The potent curses could maim, or not respond to a counter-curse if executed wrong. This situation was escalating into realms best not explored. Even Papa wouldn’t have expected this from me, and he challenged me in everything.

“Practice?” I repeated.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “This is the advanced class, isn’t it? The Network needs witches who understand how and why these curses are used. That way they can track down the people who use them. If you don’t know how they work, how can you be of any use?”

“They practice them in a controlled situation,” I said. Miss Mabel rolled her eyes.

“Yes, well, this is a controlled situation, isn’t it? Now, I suggest you stop questioning my decisions.”

I pretended like I didn’t hear the bite in her tone. Who would I curse? I could think of a few volunteers: Priscilla, Jade, and Stephany to name a few. But no, I wouldn’t even do that to them. So how would I practice? Ignoring my unease, Miss Mabel handed me a scroll of parchment. I suppressed the urge to ask if she could be my test subject, imagining how lovely it would feel to hit her in the face with an eternal wart curse.

“Miss Mabel, can I talk to you about–”

“Memorize these hexes, answer the questions, and prepare to demonstrate them tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, but my–”

“There’s an assigned list of reading on the board. Start on them. Good luck.”

“What about my grandmother?”

The words exploded from my mouth, forcing themselves on her, leaving me speechless in their wake. I waited, my breathing stalled, for her response, looking between her perfect sapphire eyes.

Puzzled, she tilted her head to one side.

“What are you talking about?”

I blinked several times.

“Our agreement said you would free my grandmother from her curse if I got the Esbat mark in three weeks.”

Her expression of innocence was too perfect to be real. When her confused stare deepened, an uneasy feeling began to spread through me, like the slow creep of water.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“My grandmother’s curse,” I replied, an edge of desperation in my tone. “The contract we signed–”

“Are you talking about your contract with me? Because that doesn’t have anything to do with the Esbat.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Your contract is an agreement to work with me through the duration of your education here. If you want to take a look at my records, that is all I have in my file.”

“We both signed the agreement to free my grandmother!” I cried. “Here, in the classroom, when we signed the Assistant contract. If you don’t remove the curse, she’ll die!”

I shut my mouth with a snap as realization dawned on me.

Something infinitely stronger than pain.

Her eyes narrowed into devious slits.

“Then bring your copy of this agreement forward, and I’ll have a look at it.”

My heart pounded as she extended her hand, waiting. I didn’t have a copy of the agreement, and she knew it.

“Or you can bring forward a witness that saw both of us sign the contract,” she offered. “We can do it either way.”

The cloying tone of her voice made me sick, and I wanted to throw up. No witness. I had no witness.

Unable to bear it, I looked away and tried to get control of my breathing. No. Of all the things to do, this was the worst of all. I’d never even thought of getting my own copy.

All that work, all those sleepless nights, wasted.

Very angry.

“I guess even the prodigy Bianca can’t anticipate every test. Poor darling, don’t you know that everyone dies eventually?”

It seemed to press on me, the disappointment, horror, and regret. Despite my luck in the past, I managed to fail the most important test.

“Miss Mabel, I don’t–”

“I’ve done you a favor, and one day you’ll thank me. Just let this be a personal reminder you’ll never forget. When you decide to bargain for your own life or others, you should always have a witness. When negotiating, never leave without a signed copy of your own to prove it.”

She drifted towards the hall, humming softly.

“Let’s not make any more bargains until you’re in a better position to do so, hmm? Prove yourself by earning the three marks I have planned. We’ll talk about your own life then.”

Panic filled my chest as she disappeared. The purple book fell to the ground, and I followed, landing on my knees, trying without success to calm myself enough to make sense of the situation. As soon as my mind settled, the truth hit with chilling force.

Grandmother’s health would continue to deteriorate until the curse took her life. My failure to anticipate Miss Mabel’s deceitful nature would contribute to my grandmother’s death. Isadora’s aged voice flickered through my mind.

Don’t underestimate her.

Moving as if blind, I groped for my room and shut the door behind me. As soon as I was alone, I pressed my back against the door and slid to the ground.

I buried my face in my hands and let loose the dangerous pressure expanding in my chest. It flowed in a great current of sobs until my shoulders shook and my eyes hurt from pressing my arms into them to try to stop the tears. But it wouldn’t work, so I fell into the solitude and would not be comforted.