Katie Cross - The Network Series Complete Collection

For Mom.

Because you believed in me.

I stared at the lavender flowers on the white china and willed my heart to stop pounding. Papas advice whispered through my head like the balm of a cool poultice, settling my nerves.

Dont be afraid, Bianca. The old woman will perceive your personality no matter what you do or say. You cant hide information from a Watcher. Let her remain in control of the conversation and things will be easier.

You said that your family is from Bickers Mill? The old woman, Isadora, startled me from my thoughts with her question. Thats not very far from here.

Yes, I said, turning around to face her. I grew up in a cottage outside the village.

Dont think about how important this is.

That wouldnt be too difficult. She only determined the rest of my life.

Isadora smiled in a distant way, as if she were lost in thought and only keeping up with the conversation to be kind. She was a stringy old woman, with a curved back and foggy, pistachio-colored eyes, although one of them looked more blue than green.

Your grandmother is sick, isnt she?

My throat tightened.

Yes, I said, swallowing past it. She studied me while I continued. The apothecary said she may not have much longer to live.

Well, Im glad you were able to come here today so that I did not have to come to you. Living near the school helps me keep this part of Letum Wood safe for the students. Now that school has started, I dont like to leave.

Im sure they appreciate your work as a Watcher, I said, circling back around to face the tea set. Confidence, I told myself. Even if she can see into your soul and it isnt very organized.

My hands trembled when I set the fragile cups and saucers on the antique silver tray. Was that right? No, the teacups went on the plates. Or did they? Was I supposed to set out a fork for the little cakes? Or tongs? Or nothing at all? An interview Id prepared for my entire life, and a tea set flummoxed me. This was a promising beginning. Deciding to leave the cups off the plate, I set them off to the side, lifted the tray and turned to serve the tea.

Isadora moved away from the window with a hobbled step while I approached the little table. Her quaint cottage at the edge of the trees aged with a quiet grace, decorated in an opulence that made me nervous, afraid Id take one step too far in any direction and break something, like the witches bottles hanging from one wall by strings of twine. A simple nudge and theyd fall, shattering, the whispers of their bottled incantations rising into the air like a mist.

Despite her reputation as one of the most powerful witches in our world, Isadora lived a discreet life in the midst of her porcelain tea sets, of which she had many, and her white curtains. A buttery loaf of bread gleamed nearby, smelling of warm yeast and flour.

Is this part of Letum Wood dangerous? I asked, taking measured steps so I didnt rattle the china. Letum Wood, the weather, my chances of survival at the school, I would have picked any of these topics for conversation. Anything to avoid the silence that meant she searched my soul, hoping to understand the secrets of my mind.

It can be a frightening place, Isadora said, lowering into a wooden chair. But not when Im watching.

For all my precautions in getting there, the tray landed on the table with an ungracious clunk, and I murmured a nervous apology.

She smiled, surveying the layout of the china with puckered lips that looked suspiciously close to a smile. Id gotten the tray wrong, of course.

I was an awkward teenager too, you know, Isadora said. Big teeth and whatnot. That all changed when I turned sixteen.

Oh? I stammered, forcing myself to sit down. Sixteen?

Yes, your age.

Shes going to know many things about you. Dont be surprised if she mentions details you havent told her. She sees.

Its a wonderful age, she crooned before I could reply, lightly sliding her cup onto her tea plate. I started learning how to control magic at a Network school, though not Miss Mabels School for Girls. It changed the course of my life. She paused for a second, then continued as if shed never stopped. Miss Mabels is a grand place. Theres so much history in that big old estate, you know, and so much to learn.

Mmm-hmm, I hummed as I reached for the pot. The tea tumbled in a coral waterfall into the fragile porcelain cups. Steam rolled off the boiling liquid, filling the air. A drop or two slipped out, falling to the white tablecloth when I tipped the spout back. An instant stain spread.

Miss Mabels been teaching there many years, I said, quickly setting the teapot on top of the diffused pink circles, hoping she didnt see. My heart pounded. This wasnt the time for mistakes. Perhaps Id spent too long perfecting the big things and too little on the mundane.

Our eyes met for the first time. Isadora didnt smile, just stared into me with a troubled expression. I waited under the scrutiny of her gaze, my heart pulsing in my throat, making me sick to my stomach. Her worried expression had nothing to do with my inability to properly set out and pour tea.

Isadora doesnt care about trivialities.

Yes, Mabel has been teaching for a long time. She finally took the offered cup to sip, breaking her intense study. Shes one of the best teachers in the Network.

Her face scrunched a little, and I fought back a frustrated sigh. I had steeped it too long again. Herbal teas always stumped me.

So Ive heard, I said.

Mabel gears her teaching toward action, not books. Education these days involves too much reading. Learning magic should be about practice, not recitation.

I heartily agreed but remained silent. Bookwork was never my cup of tea, so to speak. Her cup set itself down as I reached for the sugar. I didnt know how to respond, so I remained quiet and stirred the sugar into my tea.