Antebellum Awakening Read Online Free

exile ya and yer father and send ya to the Northern Network where liars belong.”
    I looked up to find Alvyn shaking a fist at me from where he lay in the grass, his face pressed into the ground by the heel of a Guardian. Another stood over him, a drawn bow and arrow pointed at his head.
    “Silence!” the Guardian barked, then kicked Alvyn in the ribs. “Traitors don’t get to speak to anyone but Derek.”
    I turned to Brecken.
    “Traitors?” I asked, grateful to turn the conversation away from Papa and I. Ever since the Central Network found out Papa’s secret—that he’d flouted the unbroken tradition that the Head of Protectors give up family life—hatred for us had run deep in some regions. Witches could be unusually attached to the traditions of old. Some believed that upholding the rules laid down by our forefathers established safety in our land. I agreed with them to some extent, but not on every account.
    Despite Papa’s unpopularity, the Guardians remained steadfast in their loyalty to him. “I thought they were just poachers?”
    Brecken’s lips formed a grim line.
    “Trying to kill a forest dragon when we teeter on the brink of war?” he asked. “The act of a traitor. They probably work for the Western Network.”
    And Miss Mabel.
    The thought tightened my fists so hard my nails bit into the skin.
    “Let’s get you back,” Brecken said, with a glance at both of us. He held out an arm to motion us to the castle, and I saw the tattoo of a shield on his inner wrist. Instead of a circlus like mine, Brecken bore the Mark of the Captain. “Your father will be hearing of this by now, no doubt, and will want to see you himself. I’ll walk you back.”
    He motioned for us to follow with a jerk of his head. Camille, who had remained mostly silent, bounded forward to walk at his side, her eyes bright.
    “I’m Camille,” she said, eyeing him with an appreciative little grin. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
    Her rambling voice died into the background as I trailed behind the two of them. Thanks to Brecken’s grim reminder of Miss Mabel’s presence, my mind fixated on the one place I didn’t want it to go.
    It was a place far from the spiral staircases and wide stone halls of Chatham Castle. The little old manor in the shadows of Letum Wood, Miss Mabel’s School for Girls. The whole drama of my last day at the school unfolded in the space of two breaths. Me in the attic with my evil teacher Miss Mabel, using defensive magic against her in a battle for my life. Then Mama stepping in to protect me, and Miss Mabel killing her in one decisive move.
    No. I stopped the flashback before it re-ignited the restless powers within me. The magic had had enough exercise for one day.

An Internal Weapon
    I passed through the opulence of the Royal Hall later that evening with a feeling of trepidation. The impending meeting with the High Priestess had loomed in my mind for hours. Would she be angry with me for defending the forest dragon? Had I done something wrong? Papa would be waiting as well, and it would be a relief to have him at my side. He was the only thing left that made me feel safe.
    Two Guardians lingered near the staircase, protecting the deserted hallway I started down. I didn’t mind the solitude because it gave me an opportunity to think.
    Paintings of past High Priests and Priestesses covered the wall in gilded frames. All wore the same shade of crimson in the portraits, the Central Network’s color. Their faces held similar echoes of the stoic determination that I saw in our current High Priestess. Perhaps they all knew something that the rest of us, who didn’t lead, never would. Something besides the strange desire to tie themselves to a desk and sit through meetings for their whole lives. I shuddered at the thought.
    I checked to make sure the nearby Guardians couldn’t see me, then crept up to the High Priestess’s door and pressed my ear to it. It was the perfect