Rebel Angels by Libba Bray Read Free Book Online Page A

sputtering.
    “Isn’t snow marvelous?” she says.
    I should be angry, I suppose, but I find I am laughing. It
is
marvelous. I love the snow and wish it would go on forever.
    Huffing and puffing, Ann finally reaches us. She slips and plops down into a large puff of white with a squeal, which makes Felicity and me laugh uncharitably.
    “You might not laugh if you were the one soaked through,” Ann grumbles, struggling to her feet in a very ungraceful fashion.
    “Don’t be such a ninny,” Felicity scoffs. “It isn’t the end of the world.”
    “I haven’t ten pairs of stockings at the ready, as you do,” Ann says. It’s meant to sound clever but it comes out dreary and petulant.
    “I shan’t bother you further, then,” Felicity says. “Oh, Elizabeth! Cecily!” And with that, she marches off to the other girls, abandoning us to the cold.
    “But I
don’t
have a wealth of stockings,” Ann says, defending herself.
    “You sounded very sorry for yourself is all.”
    “I can’t seem to say anything right.”
    My happy afternoon in the snow is fading. I don’t think I can bear an hour of Ann’s whining. I am still a bit angry with her for not coming to my defense at breakfast. The snow is in my hand before I can think. I hurl it at Ann and it splats across her surprised face. Before she can react, I throw another snowball.
    Ann splutters, “I—I—I . . .”
    Another hits across her skirt.
    “Come on, then, Ann,” I say, taunting her. “Are you going to allow me to keep punishing you? Or are you going to take your revenge?”
    The answer is a spray of snow across my neck. The ice trickles down my collar and into my dress and I squeal from the sudden freeze. I reach for another handful of snow and Ann’s next snowball finds my head. My hair drips with the wet ice.
    “That isn’t fair!” I shout. "I’ve no ammunition.”
    Ann stops, and I hit her with a snowball I’ve hidden behind my back. Her face is the picture of outrage.
"You said—”
    “Ann, do you always do as you’re told? This is war!” I throw one that misses, but Ann’s next snowball finds my face again. I’m forced to find higher ground while wiping the ice pellets from my eyes.
    Beneath the snow, the land has turned to thick mud due to all the rain. The heels of my boots have sunk in, and with nothing to brace myself against—no tree or bench—I’m afraid I’m stuck fast. I lift my boot and pitch forward, nearly toppling face-first into the muck. Someone grasps my wrist hard, pulling me up and over behind a tree. When my eyes clear, I am face to face with him.
    “Kartik!” I exclaim.
    “Hello, Miss Doyle,” he says, smiling at my soggy appearance. Melting snow drips from my hair onto my nose. “You look . . . well.”
    I’m a fright.
    “Why didn’t you respond to my note?” he asks.
    I feel foolish. And happy to see him. And wary. So many thoughts I cannot name them all. “It is difficult to get away. I . . .”
    Beyond the trees, I hear Ann calling my name, looking for me in order to exact her snowball revenge.
    Kartik’s grip tightens. “No matter. We’ve little time and I’ve much to say. There is trouble in the realms.”
    “What sort of trouble? When I left, all seemed well. Circe’s assassin had been defeated.”
    Kartik shakes his head. Beneath his hood, his long, dark curls sway. “Do you remember when you smashed the Runes of the Oracle and set your mother free?”
    I nod.
    “Those runes were the Order’s ancient binding on the great power inside the realms. A sort of safe for their magic. It was a way to ensure that they alone could draw on it.”
    Ann calls again. She’s getting closer to our hiding spot.
    Kartik speaks in an urgent whisper. "When you smashed the runes, Miss Doyle, you destroyed the binding.”
    “I released the magic into the realms,” I finish. A slick dread seeps into my bones.
    Kartik nods. “Now it is loose, free for anyone to use for any purpose, even if they do not know