Free Antebellum Awakening by Katie Cross

you.”
    “Why not the High Priestess?” I asked, desperate. “Why the High Priest?”
    Miss Mabel chuckled.
    “Oh, Bianca, I wouldn’t pass on the pleasure of killing Mildred for the world.”
    I really studied her for the first time. Despite her languid expression and unreadable eyes, a few stress lines marred her face. She could do all the transformative magic she wanted to make herself appear young and beautiful, but she couldn’t hide the anxiety.
    Did you ever feel fear? I thought of asking, but wasn’t certain I wanted the answer. Or do you run on anger? Is that your source of power? Who could you hate so much that you’d be this terrible?
    I’d spent my life questioning Miss Mabel’s actions but never her motives. Now, for the first time, I realized that her evil must have a purpose beyond ambition to rule the Central Network. An overwhelming wave of power made me lose visual clarity, forcing me back to the terrible reality of my situation. With magic this strong, I’d black out entirely. The magic would work through me with no way to stop it. I steeled myself to battle the power, but my energy waned.
    “Then why are you doing this?” I asked.
    There was too much vulnerability in the question, too much raw emotion I couldn’t control, and I hated myself for it. The magic seeped out of my heart, spreading through my chest and arms. If I let it go, would it destroy her? Or would it just destroy me?
    “The same reason I do everything,” she said. “Leverage.”
    “You lie,” I whispered. Her face blurred. I gripped the wall to keep from falling. “You want power.”
    “Don’t we all want power? Are you and I so different, Bianca? Both of us have someone we hate, someone we’d be willing to do anything to get rid of. The real question is: which of us wants it more?” she asked, turning away. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
    The world went black when she sent me into the darkness again. The pressure of transporting pressed on my face and eyes. I recognized the velvet underbelly of the canopy of Letum Wood over my head just before the magic overcame me.
    Darkness.

A Jagged Weakness
    “S ee that Guardian there?” Merrick asked, pointing. “His body is low and his legs are far apart. Now look over here. That Guardian crossed his legs and now . . . he just fell on his arse and everyone is laughing at him. Never cross your legs. It’s asking to be embarrassed.”
    Merrick and I stood on top of the Wall the next morning, hidden back in the shadow that Chatham Castle sent over the lower bailey. Masses of Guardian hopefuls teemed in the deep stone pit, fighting each other with the wooden swords that meant they were new recruits. Furious cries rang through the air now and then, a sure indication that some inattentive trainee would later be nursing a bruise or a splinter.
    Good thing they don’t have real swords yet.
    The spring air sat heavy on my shoulders, thick with fog and threatening a chilly rain. It felt good to have a cool day. Even though I’d faced Miss Mabel two days before, the desert heat still felt real on my face. After my unexpected visit, I’d awoken in Letum Wood with scratches on my hands and feet, and no idea where I was. I had to transport back to Chatham Castle. Sleep had been elusive for the past couple days, adding to my weariness. To my relief, I didn’t see Mrs. L again.
    Seeking a bit of security, I pulled my deep blue cloak closer around my shoulders but left the hood down. Camille had woken up early to tuck my hair into two braids against my head, ensuring it would be out of my way for either a fight or a run. But it had been in vain. Merrick and I had been hidden for an hour, studying proper fighting technique. Or, more realistically, how not to fight.
    “Watch that one,” he said, pointing to a different fellow on the other side. “He seems to know what he’s doing. We’ll start working on new footwork patterns tomorrow. Learning a sword is pointless without