I should do something, she thought. I should use my powers. But she held still, immobilized by a force as strong as it was unworthy.
If she used her powers to save her family, they would find out she had used them to destroy it. Tesara felt an unpleasant fullness in her bladder.
“Come on,” Yvienne said, tugging her hand. She and Tesara half-pushed and half-dragged the old nurse into the cart, and clambered in themselves. The driver slapped the reins and they were off at a jolting pace.
The cold, wet wind came rushing from the harbor as they made their way down the alley behind the row of great merchant houses, and Tesara shivered beneath her cloak. It was long minutes before they turned onto the main road out of town, a sky of stars and a half moon slipping behind scudding clouds giving them some light to travel by. She huddled next to her sister, watching Michelina sway in time to the rolling cart. She was tired and frightened and had no time to use the water closet before she left the house, and with the bumping of the cart she knew that she would soon be in the position of having to either wet her pantaloons or ask the carter to stop so she could answer nature’s call in the darkness beside the road. She gritted her teeth and strove to bear it as long as she could.
Next to her Yvienne sat bolt upright, her posture to make even the strictest governess melt with pride. They hadn’t had a governess in months, another fault laid at Tesara’s door.
“Vivi?” Tesara ventured. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“Michelina’s niece runs a girls’ seminary in Romopol,” Yvienne whispered. “I heard Mama talking about it.” Her tone grew icy. “I’m sure if she’s anything like her aunt, it will be a useless school.” Her hand squeezed hard on Tesara’s. Tesara could tell her sister was furious. Tesara marveled at that. Perhaps because Yvienne was fourteen, a whole two years older than Tesara, she wasn’t frightened. She was angry.
“Are you all right?” Tesara whispered.
Yvienne whispered back, “I don’t care how powerful they are. I don’t care if they’re the richest men in Port Saint Frey. The Guild will pay for this, Tesara. I’m going to find out who did this, and I’ll make them pay.”
Tesara felt as if she were going to throw up. She swallowed hard, willing herself to stay calm and not cry. Babies cry, she thought again. I’m not a baby.
Yvienne shifted her weight and put her arm around Tesara, drawing her close.
“Don’t worry, Tes,” she murmured. “Wherever we go, I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It was meant to ease her heart but it had the opposite effect. It’s only because she doesn’t know what I did. She doesn’t know that I was the one who sank the fleet, I destroyed our family’s fortunes, and I’m the reason Uncle Samwell is going to gaol.
If Yvienne abandoned her, what did she have left?
“Will our new girls stand and be recognized?” Madam Callier’s voice boomed out from her spot at the head table with the teachers. The girls all sat in orderly rows at four long tables in what had once been a grand ballroom and was now only drafty and dark and smelled of boiled cabbage and mold. Tesara caught Yvienne’s eye over at the big girl’s table, and they both stood. She was so tired and hungry, but the food – gravy over bread, with strands of gray meat mixed in – was unappetizing and congealing in its grease.
“Behold the sisters Mederos. Their family has lost all their fortune, and they’re no better than anyone else now. Worse, because they’ve never learned how to work or be useful.”
Tesara felt hatred well up in her. Her fingertips tingled. The sensation spread down through her palms.
“Would you say, Aunt, that the girls have all the manner of wealth and self-indulgence and reap the rewards of industriousness where they have never worked hard themselves?”
Their old nurse looked at her fearsome niece and then at Tesara and Yvienne.
“Indeed, Niece, the younger girl is naughty, and her elder opinionated. I’ve done my best to mold them–”
“But they will never be molded,” Madam Callier said. “Only privation and hard work will bend them to a shape more pleasing to others. So, students, when you speak to them, speak to them as you would a servant, because that is their fate. When they address you, respond with coldness. In time – in time! – you may condescend to them with kindness, but they have much to learn before they can appreciate such courtesy.”
A draft from the windows caused the candle flame to waver. Tesara wriggled her fingers and the draft became a little breeze. Under her encouragement, the edge of the tablecloth at the teachers’ table lifted up. Madam Callier was still going on when Tesara pulled her hands sideways under the cover of the table. Her sharp motion from across the room caused the tablecloth to fling itself violently into the air, spilling water, food, and candles into the laps of the teachers, Michelina, and Madam Callier herself.
Girls shrieked. Teachers shouted and scrambled backwards. Tesara looked up as wide-eyed as the others, trying to act as frightened as anyone else.
Only Madam Callier sat still, covered with food and wine. The woman mopped at the mess on her face and her impressive bosom with a damp napkin. She didn’t have to cry for order. The entire school settled down. She looked directly at Tesara, and Tesara’s triumph turned to fear.
Madam Callier got up from the table with tremendous majesty. She strode over to Tesara, everyone falling back before her. Tesara quailed, wondering if she should apologize, knowing it was too late. Madam Callier loomed over
