Miss Mabel's School for Girls (9 page)

Beautiful odds for survival, Bianca,
I told myself.
What have you gotten yourself into now? No matter. The secrets of the forest are nothing to wait around for.

I abandoned the dirt and jumped to my feet. The darkness made it impossible to work through the trees with any kind of grace or ease, so I stumbled through the twigs and vines, heading right into a thick underbrush that snagged my cloak and hair. My heart thudded dully in my chest.

Relax,
my father’s voice said. I was a young girl again, standing in front of a hulking brown bear that I’d stumbled across, in a different part of Letum Wood. Papa stood at my back, facing the monster with me. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against my spine, the rhythmic thump of his heart. He put a hand on my shoulder. His steady voice reassured me. Papa had no fear, but my hands shook with every raspy breath the bear took.

Breathe deep,
Papa said.
Think. Don’t panic. Just relax. Keep your shield out in front of you. Yes, good, just like that. You know how to fight if you have to. Use the skills you have, but only if there is no other choice.

This time I didn’t have a shield, and Papa didn’t have my back.

Use the skills you have.

I skidded to a stop on a carpet of leaves, turning my ear to the direction I’d just come from. This time I felt the creature before I heard it. The ground pulsed beneath my feet in a fast, staccato rhythm. Running.

Batting aside a spiny twig, I ducked around a large oak and pressed my back to it. Running would only guarantee an injury, not an escape. I slid down the tree and groped around until my hand closed on a thick, fallen branch. I hefted it, feeling only a bit better with a weapon in hand. 

Twenty yards.

Another noise came from my right.

I froze, hearing an uneven, gasping sound, and waited several seconds to see if it would come again. When it repeated, I paused, wondering if I should call out.

Fifteen yards.

My hesitation won when I realized it could be a Competitor.

“Hello?” I called, crouching down.

Silence.

“Hello?”

A shaking voice replied.

“Bianca?”

A dead bush slapped my face when I headed towards the girl’s voice. It wasn’t until I almost tripped over her that I made out Elana’s figure on the ground. In the inky air, I couldn’t tell what she was doing down there.

I fell into a crouch next to her.

“Are you all right?”

“I sprained my ankle running away,” she whispered. “That thing sounds like it’s going to eat us.”

“It won’t.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Just stay here.”

“What are you doing?”

I silenced her with a tight squeeze of my hand and turned towards the crunching branches. Ten yards. The thicker undergrowth of this area, probably a dried stream bank, had slowed it down. It was close, probably circling around, scenting us out.

Silence.

I busied myself with gathering a bunch of pine needles, commanding them with a silent incantation while keeping my eyes up, glancing around despite the blackness that met me on every side.

Elana grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

“Are you crazy?” she whispered, so lightly I could barely hear it. “Get out of here while you can!”

I ignored her.

The pine needles congealed into a cool poultice in my palm. I wrapped it around her swollen ankle, the putty clinging to her skin like a slug. Within moments her breathing evened. It would only take a few minutes to numb the pain. I grabbed my wooden club and straightened up again. A twig snapped to my right. I whirled around, rotting branch at the ready.

Darkness.

Come on, mangy animal. I want to live far more than you.

Another twig snapped, and another. The huffing started again. The footfalls so close that I could smell a rotten, musky odor. I lifted the branch so it hovered a few feet off the air when a low growl sounded just a few steps away. The darkness hid her quarry.

Then a stomp, a rustle, movement. The sounds faded, disappearing into the night. The creature was running away. Five minutes later and I could no longer hear it, even when I strained. I let out a heavy sigh and finally dropped the branch. My arms trembled.

“It’s gone,” I announced in a quiet voice. Elana peered at me through the darkness.

“What was it?”

“I don’t know.”

I helped pull her to her feet. The dirt shifted beneath her when she put weight on the offended ankle.

“Thanks,” she said. “It feels great now. I think I’ll be able to walk.”

“Good.”

“What did you put on it?”

“A little family secret my grandmother taught me. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes,” she said, a little too quickly. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be fine. I still have to find my butterfly. You should go. I’ve kept you here long enough.”

I held out the thick wooden stick. “Here, take this with you. It’ll give you some protection if you need it.”

Elana reached out and grabbed it. “Why are you doing this, Bianca?”

“You’re hurt.”

“No, I mean the Competition.”

I didn’t answer for a long time.

“Why are you?” I asked in return. The question felt personal, but then, so were the secrets that drove me.

“Because my parents expect me to win.”

“You’re only a second-year.”

“That doesn’t matter to them.”

Even though she couldn’t see my eyes, I looked away, embarrassed at such a revealing response. She swallowed and let out a sigh.

“It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. I probably shouldn’t have asked you anyway. For what it’s worth, I think you’re crazy to help someone that will just be working against you later.”

Maybe.

“No Competition is worth losing my humanity over,” I finally said.

She didn’t answer. I felt around and grabbed another fallen branch for myself.

“Good luck, Elana.”

Her eyes were on my back as I left, even in a dark so thick.

•••

The cold began to wear into my bones.

Every step felt like a grinder turning on my hips. The constant fear of unknown creatures made the rustle of a leaf sound like the rush of an attack. The jittery stress felt like it would age me ten years in a single night.

Each attempt to find the impression of the magic turned out fruitless and frustrating. The sting of a gash on my cheek reminded me to keep my arms in front of my face as I walked if I didn’t want to risk running into the sharp ends of the trees. When a pinecone fell on my head, I whacked it away with a growl and a curse. It flared into a fireball on the ground, reduced to cinders in seconds.

Miss Mabel had planned this on such a horrid night, of that I had no doubt.

A cracking sound in the trees caught my attention. This time the noise wasn’t loud, just a quiet breath of wind that didn’t belong in the stillness. I groped forward to investigate, blind. A bulky silhouette leaked through the night. At first I thought of a misshapen tree.

No, it was Michelle.

Her legs trembled, tense and unmoving. A flicker of light came from the darkness. It started as a meandering dot and slowly grew. Then I noticed something glowing in her shaking, outstretched palm.

My breath faltered. A glowworm. Michelle found or produced a glowworm to draw her butterfly in. 

“Brilliant,” I whispered to myself. “She’s got everyone fooled.” 

I didn’t wait around, struggling backwards. Despite not being able to see, I started to run. My ankle twisted once, and I almost ran headfirst into a tree.

Pausing only long enough to scoop fistfuls of dirt in each hand, I blundered on, repeating the incantation under my breath and letting the powder drift behind me. I tripped over a root and slammed into the ground with a thud that paralyzed my chest. The impact ricocheted through my ribs and down my spine, numbing my leg for a moment. I rolled onto my back with a gasp and struggled to breathe.

A thin trail of dazzling blue powder caught my eye.

Instead of fading into the sky, it stretched out, heading the opposite direction. I forced myself to my feet with a moan. Of course the revealing spell worked now that I’d almost crippled myself.

The glittery mist ended at a wall of rock that gave way to a cave with clammy air. A muted glow came from the back and illuminated a corner. Hope filled my heart. What else would light up a cave in this dead forest?

The corner turned into a room of glowing sea-green butterflies. Their wings fluttered. 

All of them were my butterfly.

Nothing is ever what it seems.

My jaw dropped. How would I find mine amongst hundreds? Michelle could be on her way back by now, butterfly in hand, trophy in her triumphant bag.

A summoning spell. Of course.

I cast it without thinking. Seconds later the ocean wall turned into a fluttering mess of sapphire and emerald. 

“Wait,” I said, stepping back too late. “Wait, no!”

Boiling out of the wall with their filmy wings, they bolted towards me as one, sweeping around me in a tunnel of color. Light and wind tossed me, forming a tight cocoon. My hair danced around my face and eyes.

“Stop!”

They flew back to the wall, lining it with their shimmering wings as if they’d never left.

One butterfly remained behind, settling on my shoulder. She waved her wings, an exact replica of another one on my knuckles. The sight of the hundreds of butterflies almost brought me to my knees. Too many.

A winner is by no means a winner, who does not win it all.

A third butterfly came within a few inches of my face. Her gauzy wings whispered while she hovered there, bobbing up and down, sprouting an idea in my mind.

Who does not win it all.

Overpowering

O
ne of the first lessons Papa ever taught me rose from the depths of my mind.

Overpowering another spell is one way to stop the magic, or channel it into a different direction. It takes concentration, and, depending on the magic used, power. Keep in mind that not every spell can be overpowered.

“Follow me,” I told them after casting a following incantation. They would obey as a group. The real test of my power came when I tried to find the one butterfly I had to return with. “We’ll all go back.”

The butterflies peeled away from the cave wall, flying out in torrents that slowed to a graceful flutter, thousands of winking wings illuminating my path back to the school.

“We have to hurry,” I said to the mass, like talking to an old friend. My shoes pinched when I jerked at the laces, pulling the knots apart while balancing on one leg. “Michelle probably has hers by now. We’re going to run. You better keep up. I’ll need your light.” 

Within a breath I had both shoes off, and my socks with another. Papa’s spell gathered my dress into my waist. I hoped that I wouldn’t pass Priscilla in the woods; she’d never stop teasing me about running in my knickers. Holding one shoe in each hand, I gripped my toes into the cold earth and took off.

A rapid heartbeat filled my ears again, and the wind pressed my hair out of my face. Trees whizzed past, lumpy shadows in the night. The cloud of butterflies surged ahead by just a few strides, lighting my path, pressing hard like galloping horses. For a moment I heard Papa laugh, coming from just behind, as he always did. But no sooner had it come than it vanished, another ghost in the night.

When the torch lights of the school yard were specks in the distance, I skidded to a stop and whirled around to face the butterflies.

“Stay here,” I said through a heavy breath. Enough ambient light filtered through the trees to help me find the way, keeping my tread light and my body in a low crouch.

When the giggle of voices met my ears, I slipped behind a tree and scanned the schoolyard. Less than ten people remained outside, clustered in closely packed huddles. 

I turned around and whistled two soft notes, casting a silent spell to call the one butterfly back to me while the others continued on. It would separate from the others and stay behind with me.

If I could continue to overpower the original magic.

The forest gave up nothing at first. Talking amongst those outside continued. Then a sound from the trees began to grow. A few flickers of light twinkled behind me. The flickers turned into dots. The dots spread through the trees like tiny lanterns, becoming lines.

Camille noticed it first and let out a shriek.

“Look! That’s Bianca’s color, isn’t it?”

Miss Bernadette followed her gaze.

“I believe so.”

“Hey!” Camille yelled, “Bianca’s coming back! Hurry up!”