Finally she lifted her eyes to mine. "She was murdered. L'Occhio di
Dio."
"How did we know it was--"
"They're very distinctive in their disposal of us," she replied briskly.
"In any case, Lucy, who had been left behind, stayed here at Hecate so the
Council could observe her."
"What, like a science experiment?" I didn't mean to sound so angry, but I was beyond freaked out.
"Alice's power had been off the charts. She was literally the strongest
Prodigium that had ever been recorded. It was vital that the Council know if that level of magic had been passed down to her daughter, who was, after all, half human."
"Had it?"
"Yes. And that power was also passed to your father." Her eyes met mine. "And to you."
After our little meeting, Mrs. Casnoff gave me the rest of the afternoon off to, as she put it, "reflect on what you've learned." However, I didn't feel like doing much reflecting. I marched straight to the third floor. In the small alcove off my hallway, there was a bank of bright red telephones that students could use. They were dusty with non-use since most of the
Prodigium at Hecate didn't need telephones to communicate with their families. Vampires could use telepathy, but it wasn't like Jenna was calling home. The shapeshifters had some sort of pack mentality thing going on, and the faeries used the wind or a flying insect to deliver messages. I'd seen
Nausicca murmuring to a dragonfly just that morning.
As for witches and warlocks, there were supposedly a bunch of different spells you could use to talk to people--everything from making your words appear in writing on a wall, to making a cat channel your voice.
But I didn't know any of those spells, and even if I had, they were only useful for communicating to other witches. Since Mom was human, human communication it was.
I picked up the phone, grimacing at the gritty feel of it in my sweaty hand.
A few seconds later, Mom picked up.
"My dad is the head of the Council," I said before she could even finish her hello.
I heard her sigh. "Oh, Sophie, I wanted to tell you."
"But you didn't," I said, and I was surprised to feel my throat constricting.
"Soph . . ."
"You didn't tell me anything." My eyes stung and my voice sounded thick. "You didn't tell me who my dad was, you didn't tell me that I'm apparently the most powerful witch, you know, ever. You didn't tell me that
Dad is the one who . . . who sentenced me to go here."
"He didn't have a choice," Mom said, her voice tired. "If his daughter were exempt from punishment, how would that have made him look to other Prodigium?"
I wiped my cheek with the heel of my hand. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want him to look bad," I said.
"Honey, let me call your dad, and we can get this--"
"Why didn't you tell me that people want to kill me?"
Mom gasped a little. "Who told you that?" she demanded, and now she sounded even angrier than I was.
"Mrs. Casnoff," I answered. Right after she'd dropped the bomb about my powers, Mrs. Casnoff had told me one of the reasons that my dad had sent me to Hecate--to keep me safe.
"You can't blame him," she had said. "L'Occhio di Dio killed Lucy as well, in 1974, and your father has had numerous attempts made on his life.
For the first fifteen years of your life, your father was able to keep your existence a secret. But now . . . It was only a matter of time before L'Occhio di Dio discovered your existence, and you would have been defenseless in the regular world."
"What . . . what about those Irish people?" I'd croaked.
Mrs. Casnoff's eyes had slid away from mine. "The Brannicks are not a concern at this time," was all she had said. I knew she was lying, but I'd been too shell-shocked to call her on it.
"Is it true?" I asked Mom now. "Did Dad put me here because I'm in danger?"
"I want you to put Mrs. Casnoff on the phone right now," Mom said, not answering my question. There was a lot of anger in her voice, but there was fear too.
"Is it true?" I repeated.
When she didn't answer, I shouted, "Is it true?"
A door somewhere in the hall opened, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Taylor sticking her head out of her room. When she saw me, she just shook her head slightly and closed her door.
"Soph," Mom was saying, "look, we'll . . . we'll talk about this when you're home for winter break, okay? This is not something I want to get into over the phone."
"So it is true," I said, crying.
There was such a long silence on the other end that I wondered if she'd hung up. Then she gave a long sigh and said, "We can talk about this later."
I slammed down the receiver. The phone made a jangly sound of protest.
I slid down the wall to the floor and drew my knees in so I could rest my head on them.
For a long time I stayed that way, breathing slowly in and out, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. There was a little part of me that felt weirdly guilty, like I should be super pumped about being a kick-ass witch or something. But I wasn't. I felt more than happy to leave the glowing skin and floating hair and smiting to Elodie and those girls. I could just run a little tea shop or something, where I could sell books about astrology and chakras.
That would be fun. I could maybe wear a floaty purple muu--
I lifted my head and cut off my mental rant. That weird goose-bump feeling was back.
I looked up and saw the girl from the lake standing at the end of the hall. Up close I could see that she was about my age. She was frowning at me, and I noticed that her green dress was flapping around her calves as though a wind were blowing.
Before I could open my mouth to ask her who she was, she turned abruptly on her heels and walked off. I listened for her shoes on the wooden steps, but there was no sound.