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without magic growing up. He thinks that witches are too lazy now.”
    “I’m starving!” Camille declared, pouncing on the platter. “This smells so good! I want to eat it all. Did you already eat with your father, Bianca?”
    “Yes,” I said. “But go ahead.”
    The four of us sat down in the middle of the turret at the old table we’d dragged up from an abandoned meeting room a couple of floors below. Camille had filched a red and gold Central Network banner with a dragon roaring out of it for the wall. She hung it right next to a white flag she’d started to embroider with the goal of saying The Witchery , but she’d gotten halfway through, been distracted and messed up on the C, and now all it said was The Wits .
    “Have you heard anymore from the High Priestess about your vow?” Leda asked. They were the only ones that knew about the secret vow between me and the High Priestess, and Leda checked in often.
    “No,” I said in a clipped tone. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “I haven’t."
    “Are you getting worried?” Camille asked, her concern evident between mouthfuls. “I am. It’s been two months already.”
    “Not yet. We still have loads of time.”
    “Right, loads.” Camille rolled her eyes and reached for the loaf of brown bread. Leda snatched the crock of butter before Camille could take it and Michelle grabbed a chunk of ham. “Just a few months, really.”
    “We might have found a way to control my powers,” I said, hoping to break apart the current discussion. Talking about my almost-certain demise rarely brought me joy.
    “Really?” Michelle asked, her small eyes lighting up. “How?”
    I filled them in on the conversation with Papa, Merrick, and the High Priestess, including Alvyn’s interrogation and murderous intent. “Papa thinks physical work will help me release my emotions and the powers. I start tomorrow,” I finished, leaning back.
    “Oh, goodness. That’s frightening about Alvyn.” Camille blinked, pausing with a slice of bread halfway to her mouth. “But training with Merrick? He’s very handsome. I’d never be able to concentrate on the lesson. I’d just want to stare into those green eyes.”
    Her gaze went distant for a second, then she shook her head and bit into her bread with renewed vigor.
    “Do you want to do it?” Leda asked, carefully cutting her bread into small, bite-sized pieces. I could see the cogs in her mind spinning. Of the four of us, Leda was the logical planner. A vengeful witch set the Foresight Curse on Leda when she was a baby, which meant that she could see possibilities for the future. They pressed themselves upon her—she certainly didn’t want them—quite often. On rare occasions she would share the future chances with us, but most of the time she wisely kept them to herself. Her gaze went distant and I knew she was looking ahead, into the future, but wouldn’t tell me what she figured out.
    “Yes, I do. It will be nice to have something else to think about.”
    My sentence hung in the air like a bird stilled in flight. They knew what I didn’t say. Besides my mother’s death.
    “I also want to know why Miss Mabel has witches hunting the forest dragons,” I said, clearing my throat.
    “I’ll ask Nicolas,” Michelle said, then instantly blushed. “H-he’s a friend of my mine in the kitchen. He’s obsessed with dragons and has worked at Chatham since he was young, so he’ll know all about them. He talks about them all day.”
    “Nicolas, was it?” Camille asked with a sly smile. “You should go with him to the Anniversary ball!”
    “No!” Michelle said, averting her eyes. “I-I would never . . . I can’t dance o-or talk to him for very long.”
    “Well I can’t wait to go!” Camille leaned back, her eyes glowing. “I’ve always dreamed of wearing a beautiful gown and dancing all night. And the food!”
    She draped a lazy arm over her stomach and gave a satisfied sigh.
    The High Priestess had