Salt by Danielle Ellison Read Free Book Online Page B

iron, and salt.”
    “Why do we fight the demon beasts away with these sacraments?”
    Miriam pauses. “Because the demons learned that a witch’s essence was a powerful weapon and we must preserve our lives, for our essence contains the blood of angels?”
    The room shifts in the silence. Mrs. Bentham stares at Miriam. “Is that a question or an answer, Ms. Dunlap?”
    Miriam swallows so loud I can almost hear across the room. Poor girl.
    “An answer, ma’am.”
    “Then it would be correct,” she says. Miriam sits down almost immediately. Mrs. Bentham calls another name.
    Six girls later, one more dismissed, and the rest of the story of our creation is retold. A war where demons seek angelic-witch blood to gain strength, where they single out Nons to build their army and draw out the witches protecting the Nons. They’re determined to gain access to witches through humans, and God through witches.
    “Penelope Grey,” Mrs. Bentham says.
    I stand to attention and study her lips. For some reason my whole brain is blanking. Like that time in the third-grade spelling bee when I misspelled “idiosyncrasy” because I was so excited I knew it that I accidentally said z instead of s . This was like that, minus the excitement, and with a lot more at stake than a trophy.
    “Who was the original founding member of the Triad, the man God chose to lead his new creation?”
    Nope, this is worse than the spelling bee: at least then I knew the answer. What was his name? Ananias Marx was one of the originals, but he wasn’t the leader. Names flash through my head. Jeremiah Hole, Micah Hanley, Jonas Mahoney, Stephen Taylor. Who was the leader? Everyone is looking at me. Oh my God, I can’t fail already. Not on the first day.
    “I don’t know,” I say.
    All the girls in the room do that annoying “whisper at the same time and no one will hear us even though it’s loud” thing. Mrs. Bentham crosses her arms. “Well, then, Miss Grey, you are dismissed. Mich—”
    “Actually,” I start. Now this is weird. I’m pretty sure my brain told my mouth not to say anything. Why am I talking? Mrs. Bentham looks at me; she’s not alone. Too many eyes for me to count join hers, staring at me. This is crazy, but the thought already appeared in my head, and I have to follow through.
    “Actually ma’am, the CEASE Squad Handbook, under article 5, number 12C, states that ‘when an agent is responding to a high-stakes intercommunity situation, the agent must always provide accurate information regarding the situation to any member of the community. If the agent deems to forfeit the information due to uncertainty, then said agent may be given admittance to delay an answer while parties seek out an appropriate response to be sought and delivered at a later time in the same day to prevent misleading or misdirecting toward an incorrect answer or solution.’” I pause for a breath. “And this situation, Mrs. Bentham ma’am, would be that case. ”
    She crosses her arms. “How so?”
    Oh my God, is this working? “Well, I would hate to give an incorrect answer when the correct one is out there somewhere and would only require one to seek it out. It would sort of go against the reason we exist; if we merely made up answers, then more often than not our own kind, as well as the Nons we protect, would surely die.”
    I hold my breath, even though I’m not sure how I have any left. I am out of my mind. Mrs. Bentham looks amused, but it passes quickly.
    “Have a seat. I expect the answer by the end of the class, and you will prepare for another question.” I pause, and fall into my seat before she can change her mind. I think my body is in shock. “What Miss Grey just did, ladies, is use the negative situation in a positive way, which is exactly what these training classes are for. She thought on her feet, and though it was risky, it paid off. No one else try it.”
    I inhale as Mrs. Bentham continues. A couple of girls send me dirty