Antebellum Awakening by Katie Cross

Michelle was easy.
    “Okay, well, I’m going to the library,” I said after a few more minutes when our intermittent chatting died down and Michelle finished up her meal. “Are you still on duty?”
    She nodded and said, “I’ll see you after work.”
    After waving to Camille and winding my way through the maze of tables and bodies, I headed toward the library to begin the first phase of my big plan to free myself from Miss Mabel. First, I had to find out if bindings could be destroyed before they were fulfilled. After that, I would figure out a way to infiltrate the Western Network. If I were caught, they would kill me.
    When I walked through the stained glass double doors that led to the three-story book sanctuary, I found Leda and Miss Scarlett sitting together at a table near the outer fringe of the room, their heads bent in deep discussion. I made a mental note to ask Leda about her early morning activities later.
    “I want to try,” Leda said in a low tone. “But I’m afraid that my curse will become a problem if Council Member Jansson finds out that—”
    She stopped, her spine stiffening, and gazed right up to me.
    “Merry meet,” I said in a jovial tone, wondering why Leda had any business with Council Member Jansson. He was a middle aged, black haired witch with a constantly bland facial expression who oversaw both Chatham City and Chatham Castle. Most of the affairs of the castle went through him.
    “Merry meet, Bianca,” Miss Scarlett returned, tugging on the edge of her jacket, as if it could have the nerve to wrinkle. “I heard about your experience with the dragon. I’m glad you and Camille came out of it unscathed.”
    “Thank you, Miss Scarlett. So am I.”
    Miss Scarlett looked no different today than any other day. She wore a blue dress with her hair swept into a bun at the back of her neck and a crisp white jacket with long sleeves over it. The red bracelets she never took off sang each time they clanged together on her wrist. I’d never seen a piece of fuzz on Miss Scarlett’s clothes or a hair out of place. If I had, surely it would have been a sign of the end of the world. Miss Scarlett was as steady and timeless as the wind.
    “Why are you talking about Jan—”
    “We’re learning about the political history of the Southern Network as well as current events,” Leda blurted out, her nostrils flaring. “Would you care to join us and write an essay on why the Southern Network army needs metals found in the caves of the Western Network?”
    “Lots to do today!” I said, taking a step back. “Hope you have some fun.”
    “I’ll see you later,” Leda said dismissively and turned back to her paperwork, but not before a look of relief crossed her face.
    Well played, Leda, I thought. She wanted to get rid of me, and she had. But why? She was definitely up to something.
    “Now, the Southern Network has always been known for their talent in crafting weaponry,” Miss Scarlett began, and her voice soon droned into the background.
    I ventured further into the library, past the circular, elevated desk that sat in the very middle of the room. Several librarians bustled inside of it, sorting cards, books, and slips of paper. The walls filled with dusty tomes gave off the scent of aged paper and ink. I perused the stacks with a disinterested eye. Treating Fungus, How to Properly Age and Preserve Mushrooms , and All About the Mansfeld Pact ran past my eyes. It wasn’t until I found a book entitled Bindings and Such that I felt a glimmer of hope.
    A librarian passed by, ignoring me. I settled on the floor and cracked the book open, flipping through the table of contents. Old, nearly illegible handwriting covered the fading pages. I had to squint, working to read every line.
    “The many types of bindings,” I read under my breath. “Eternal bindings. Inherited bindings. Bindings for children.”
    Nothing on the list appealed to me. After combing through the book without success, I