Antebellum Awakening by Katie Cross Page B

them.
    “There’s no reason. I just can’t."
    The muscles in his face relaxed into a disappointed frown. “Well, you’re going to have to figure it out on your own then, since you won’t let anyone else help you.”
    He pulled away and continued on to Letum Wood. I scrambled after him, feeling a little like a failure. “What are we going to do?”
    “Test a few things,” he said, starting to run.
    The early morning mist had just started to rise from the gardens, leaving a coating of dew on the hedge and grass. At first Merrick kept us at an easy lope, skirting along the edges of Letum Wood, for which I was grateful. Once we turned and plunged into the forest, Letum Wood’s trees loomed high and shady. I watched for a pair of bright yellow eyes in the murky trees and thought I heard a snort in the distance. Trying to find the dragon gave me something to think about besides the memories lurking in the back of my mind.
    By the time we wound through several back trails, crossed forgotten roads, and waded a low creek, we were in a different part of Letum Wood, one that didn’t incite such strong emotions in me. The trees were spread out here less densely, making it feel open compared to the confinement of the forest near Chatham. It felt like a vise releasing from my chest, allowing me to breathe freely.
    “This is where Sanna lives,” he said, motioning with his head to a small cottage. A chimney on the south end piped out a lazy stream of gray smoke, and two open windows faced us, their white drapes fluttering out into the fresh spring air. “Sanna is a friend of mine that lives out here all by herself.”
    “You have friends?” I asked, feigning surprise.
    “Only a few,” he said with a very brief grin. “Come on. You’ll like Sanna. She’s special.”
    I wasn’t sure what surprised me more: the thought of Merrick having something to do outside the Protectors or seeing the old woman hobble onto the porch with a cane as knobby as Grandmother’s hands used to be. She wore a simple brown dress with a necklace that glittered ebony and orange. It only took me a few seconds to realize that she wore a string of dragon scales.
    “Special, you say?” I eyed her necklace again. Either it was an old family heirloom, passed through many generations, or Sanna was the only living Dragonmaster in Antebellum. I dismissed the idea. Dragons hadn’t really been around in centuries: the Dragonmasters were long gone.
    Then again, I reasoned with myself, I didn’t exactly imagine that forest dragon. A shudder climbed my spine. What was happening? Almorran magic, dragons in Letum Wood, West Guards in the Borderlands. What more?
    Merrick smiled. “She’s special for her own reasons. Anyway, we’re going to help her split wood.”
    “Wood?”
    “Yes. It burns better than stones.”
    I followed behind him with a growl, annoyed that he’d bested me in the silent game of wits. If Leda found out how quickly Merrick could silence my own personal brand of sarcasm, I’d never live it down.
    “Merry meet, Sanna!” he called with a blithe smile. “Staying out of trouble?”
    “Merry meet yourself. I’m probably having more fun than you!” Sanna bellowed back. I’d expected her speech to betray her age like Isadora’s did, but she sounded young and spry. Merrick laughed and turned off to the back of her cabin. I ignored him and followed the footpath leading to her front porch, crossing over a small wooden bridge above a tinkling brook. I was curious about this woman in the woods.
    “You must be Bianca,” Sanna said as I approached. “Merrick told me that he’s your teacher now.”
    Unlike most female witches, she didn’t curtsy. Instead she held out her steady arm and waited for me to grip her forearm in my hand, like a Council Member might do. Her eyes, cloudy and dim, gazed past my shoulder without seeing. I realized with surprise that Sanna was blind. How could she live alone? Especially here?
    “Merry meet,