A Proper Education: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Though Credence fought the whole time, the first vial went down quickly.

The second, and then the third—those felt like fire on her tongue.

Her stomach twisted and rolled, and she had the strong urge to vomit, something she eagerly welcomed.

Domestics were racing around her, setting bucket after bucket of sap near her feet. She didn't think her body was capable of drinking so much, but the Headmaster remained eerily calm and patient.

"This will take some time, given what you are," he said. "But we've got all night, and the domestics will keep the sap coming." He shook his head in disdain. "What a shame, to end a creature of magic."

After the third vial was finished, he lifted the first bucket to her mouth.

"I need—to breathe—!" Credence sputtered.

The Headmaster ignored her and pinched her nose to force her mouth open. When her lips parted the bucket was there, spilling a wave over her teeth and tongue. It was too much to keep up with, and she could barely gasp for air through the flood of thick, sweet sap. It filled her cheeks and fell onto her chin. Having wedged the bucket between her teeth, and keeping a firm grip on the back of her head, the imposter released her nose, no longer needing to keep it shut to ensure the sap found its way into her mouth.

Credence glanced at Frederick, the real headmaster, who was still slumped over the table.

If only he would wake and jump to action.

But he never would, and Credence knew it.

This was her end, and what a grisly fate it was.

She looked around for Death, hoping the spirit might come to comfort her final moments.

Death won't come, the horrible thought struck her.

She wasn't going to die, she was going to live for many years, maybe centuries, trapped within the courtyard of the school, inside the towns.

Watching generations of students fall, until her roots shriveled to nothing.

She tried to push the sap out of the side of her mouth with her tongue, but there was too much to fight. Her eyes rolled up to look at the sky, where the bright moon sat, heavy and full. She had a manic thought to drink from it one last time, to soothe her spirit as her body began to change.

She might be able to channel that energy into controlling what she became.

If I am to be a tree, she thought wildly, I'll be something fierce and deadly. My sap will be a bitter poison, and none will enjoy the taste.

But she couldn't give in so easily. It would be an insult to the powerful, resilient blood she'd come from. With difficulty she took a long breath in through her nose, using all her strength to focus on pulling from the moon.

Should she pull—or take? Was it Ma's friendly drinking of energy that would help her now, or Lilith's forceful drawing of power?

Maybe it wasn't all one thing, but a bit of both.

Balance.

What Credence needed most, however, was not energy. The moon would not help her escape.

Magic would. A show of power.

Trust yourself and fight.

She would not fall tonight. She would not become a relic of the orchard.

She could not create a blood orb. She had no potions or teachers by her side.

She had only herself, and that alone must get her through.

Survive.

It was the only wish she had. She channeled her thoughts into that word. All her aggression and calm, all her fear and courage, everything she had to give, for that singular thought.

Survive.

How?

She could call upon the elements, but which one would successfully combat such a predicament? The monster had easily doused the flame she conjured in her hand, and earth was far too timid to be of any use. Water might only worsen the situation—

Which left wind. The element that never answered her call.

It was the hardest to tame, Lilith told her. Credence would never understand how to handle it.

Lilith was wrong, because Credence had controlled it. Twice now, when she unleashed a great scream—but had that been the power of wind, or Credence herself?

And how could she scream with a bucket pressed against her mouth?

A rush of energy swirled inside of her, and following it, an idea of pure, spontaneous madness.

I will not ask the wind to do my bidding. I will force it.

She did not beckon or try to entice the element to her. She demanded its presence, and with fury and desperation, she imagined taking the element by the throat and commanding it into action. Air rushed into her nostrils, and something tugged at the core of her being.

Her eyes narrowed at the Headmaster.

He doesn't know who I am, Credence thought, feeling a surge inside of her. He will.

When the Headmaster pulled the bucket from her mouth and bent to pick up a new one, Credence jerked her head, momentarily slipping from his grasp.

She thought of calling Ma.

Or the Collector.

Instead, Credence charged the wind to carry out her will.

It was different this time.

There was no great build. The world did not slow to a stop.

Credence was not sure what she was demanding of the element, other than the one word that steered her onward.

Survive.

And, unlike the other times, there was no scream pulled from her lungs.

Instead, the ground began to shake.

A terrible roar split the air as the floor at her feet cracked open. The tremor shook the world, widening the fissure and traveling through the courtyard.

It knocked the Headmaster to the ground, and the bucket fell from his hands and spilled its contents across the floor. It shook every child and domestic, and many of them fell to their knees and covered their ears.

The soil beneath the orchard moved and the trees were loosened and pushed up from their place, their roots rising from the dirt as they began to lean.

The cleft in the ground did not stop at the gates of the courtyard, but moved into the towns with unstoppable swiftness.

Without warning, the towns changed.

Every last building shifted as the stones that paved the streets shuddered, and carts upturned and spilled their cargo.

The crack did not stop until it reached the entry gates, where it crashed against the fortified wall. There was a sound like a clap of thunder, and the thick wood and rock and iron split in two, creating a gaping window into the silent woods beyond.

The destruction lasted several seconds, but those alive to remember it would swear forevermore it had been hours. At once, the people of the towns were awake, and they held each other close, convinced the end of everything had descended upon them. Animals raced through the streets, some of them wise enough to make for the hole in the wall, and they fled for the freedom in the distance, stumbling but determined as they battled the great shiver of earth.

And it was Credence alone who felt the power of such destruction coursing through her veins, simultaneously called to grant her desires but well beyond her control.

Lost in the wave of magic, she did not hear the world moaning and stretching, nor did she feel the bindings around her wrists split and the chair beneath her splinter.

She was free but she did not know it yet, and her body rose to stand as her fists clenched in fury.

Lilith's cackling voice screamed in her mind:

That's it, stump! There's the dark witch inside!

But another voice rose to match Lilith, begging, Stop!

Credence's voice.

Stop!

In a flicker of consciousness, Credence caught a flash of the wreckage around her. Bodies on the ground, staring at her with wide, fearful eyes. Whatever trance the children had been under fizzled, and they were regaining their wits. Even the imposter was looking up at her from the ground, his mouth opened in a scream that could not be heard above the world breaking in two.

At the sight of all those eyes, Credence's rage left, and in an instant the spell was broken.

The ground stilled and the silence of night returned.

Credence fell to her knees, utterly drained of energy.

There was a moment of wondrous awe at what she'd done, but even stronger was the puzzling notion that whatever she'd let loose was not the same thing she called for.

It was not the wind that answered her, she knew it without a sliver of doubt.

She had no time to think about it, for the Headmaster was quick to regain his senses and footing.

He lunged for Credence, his mouth twisted into a hideous snarl, and in a flash he was on top of her with his hands around her neck. Credence felt a sharp prickling against her skin, and she realized the Headmaster's fingers had split away to reveal pointed branches, which were trying to pierce her throat. She attempted to pull her energy into another burst of power, but her body was too weak.

Damn your gluttony, Lilith's voice berated her. How many times must I tell you not to waste your magic in one go?

The branches were tightening around her face, trying to close over her mouth and nose to smother her. Credence reached up to scratch the Headmaster's cheeks and her nails connected with his skin.

Or, at least, what looked like skin.

It was too soft, like digging into butter, and it yielded easily under her touch. She tore pieces of his face away, and his human appearance was quickly gone, revealing the creature underneath:

Firm brown bark swirled with black. Where eyes should have been were two tiny gems of bright green, and its mouth was a gaping hole of sharp, pointed wood that resembled numerous teeth. Its human hair and scalp fell away, and in their place was a long, trunk-like head that ended in a crown of twisting branches.

The monster roared in fury, and Credence looked at the children around her, pleading for help.

But they remained still and silent, huddled together in the farthest corners of the courtyard, watching in horror as the life was strangled from her. Their senses were returned, but none of them dared move, and Credence could not blame them.

Even the domestics kept their distance, their hateful eyes eagerly watching to see Credence devoured.

A voice spoke, one Credence had not heard before. It sounded like a dying whisper on the wind, raspy and full of malice. The monster was saying something, and it dripped sap onto her face with each word.

"I'll move on," it croaked, "as I have for centuries. I'll take one last sapling with—"

A scream interrupted it, and the monster was pushed away from Credence by a tremendous force. The impact knocked the imposter to the ground, and for a second it was stunned. It was charged again by a mass of leaves and bark and falling skin. The mass fell upon the monster and struck a blow across its face.

Frederick. He was less human and more thing.

Credence thought him dead, and perhaps he should have been, but now he was making his final stand.

With the imposter distracted, Credence rolled onto her stomach to catch her breath. When she stood to rejoin the fight, she caught a glimpse of a figure from the corner of her eye.

The stranger from the tavern, his hood still raised to obscure his face. He was on the other side of the locked gate, observing the scene in the courtyard, as quiet and still as he had been at Sally's tavern. He held a burning torch in one hand, and when he noticed Credence's attention he raised it and slipped his arm between the iron bars of the gate, beckoning her to take the flame.

Credence ran to him and retrieved the torch with a thankful nod. The stranger pointed behind her and Credence turned just in time to see the imposter deliver a brutal blow to the real headmaster's head, having gained the upper hand by pulling Frederick onto his back. Branches wrapped around the area that once was a neck and squeezed.

The mass beneath them went still.

The imposter looked at Credence and its maw stretched into a grin. It leapt from Frederick's corpse and charged her—

She escaped its branches by a whisper and threw herself towards the table and the ornate box that sat upon it.

She wasn't sure why she sought it out, but something within her suggested it may hold the key to killing the creature. She could not open it, but there might be another way to see what was inside, and she touched the torch to the box while whispering a prayer that something—anything—would happen.

Behind her, the monster released a blood-freezing roar.

Credence dodged an attack of swiping branches, dropping the torch and moving back to the gate. The monster did not pursue her. Instead, it fell upon the ornate box and snuffed the fire out.

Her plan had failed, and the flame had not eaten through the box.

One last hope remained, though Credence had little confidence it could be done.

She ripped strands of hair from her head and bit the inside of her cheek, sucking hard to draw blood. She molded the hair into a ball and spat red into it, her eyes never leaving the imposter as it cradled its treasure.

But she could not remember the words.

"Blood to bone...bone to—knowledge?"

Credence had hoped that in a moment of need her memory would come back to her, but the words slipped through her grasp like water in her hand and she could not recall the correct thing to say.

"Dark words...uh...dark thoughts..."

The monster's attention was turned to her.

"Damn it all," she muttered and lifted the totem close to her lips.

Words were useless, but feelings, intention—that was what Lilith had commanded her to use above all. Purpose and determination.

"Grow," she commanded the hair and blood. "Grow now!"

She blew gently, forcing her demands into the ball in her hand.

From within the hair, a red glow whispered to life.

Without a second to rejoice in her accomplishment, Credence directed the glow, "Blood orb—become a blood orb."

Fire engulfed the mass in her hand, but Credence could not feel its warmth. The monster was stalking towards her, but stopped in its tracks and stared in terrified wonder.

Inside Credence's mind, Lilith's voice roared with glee:

Feel your intent, girl!

Credence pulled her arm back, her focus set on the box still gripped within the monster's branches.

The creature screamed something but Credence ignored it and hurled the blood orb, hot as dragon spit, towards it.

The fire would find its target, she knew. It could not be stopped.

The box was engulfed in flames, which turned an eerie shade of green upon impact. The monster dropped its treasure and jumped back with a howl that pierced the ears of every listener.

Students and domestics alike covered their ears to stifle the high-pitched ringing that rattled their skulls. Credence joined them, but she did not dare take her eyes from the monster or the burning ornate box.

The treasure and its owner appeared linked, and the monster thrashed wildly as if it were the one touched by fire. It reached out to douse the flame, but could barely move through the pain racing through its body. It fell to the ground and its scream died until all that was left was the quiet crackling of fire feeding upon wood.

Credence gathered her courage to approach the box. It retained its shape, but was burned completely black. Plucking a stray branch from the carnage around her, Credence poked the charred container and its walls fell into ashes, revealing the secret inside:

A fat, red seed with gnarled tendrils twisted around its body. An aura of fire was still eating its flesh, and Credence could see that the seed was moving, expanding and deflating, like the wretched thing was breathing.

The fire around it gave a few soft pops as it began to char the red of its shell.

It was dying, but Credence had to be sure. She poked the seed with her branch and it rolled a short distance away over the smooth stones of the courtyard path.

A memory flashed in Credence's mind, of Ma squeezing the heart of the demon inside Pa.

Do not touch it, a voice in her head warned. Do not put your hands on it.

Instead, she raised her shoe above the seed and slowly brought her weight onto the softened shell, smothering the fire as she squished it. It splintered and gave way, and Credence was sure she heard the softest squeaking from inside the seed; a tiny, final scream of agony. When she'd flattened it enough for her foot to touch the ground, Credence smeared it across the stones, leaving a stain of red.

She gave one final glance at the unmoving heap of the imposter's remains. Satisfied, she wiped her shoe clean on a nearby patch of grass.

She looked at the gate, wanting to thank the hooded stranger for his help, and hoping that he might reveal his face at last—but the man was gone.

In the silence of the aftermath, Credence heard the towns coming to life as those who'd been awakened by the shaking of the earth dared to venture from their homes.

They had not yet noticed the chaos in the school courtyard, their minds distracted by the crack that ran through the towns and the enormous hole in the wall that had taken the place of the entry gates. A stream of torches filled the streets, moving to congregate around the disaster.

Credence turned from the gate to find eyes staring at her in silent horror.

But the silence was short-lived, interrupted by an abrupt bout of coughing and gagging.

The children remained bewildered, until it became apparent that the noise was coming from the domestics.

The old women fell into violent retching.

Are they dying like their master? Credence thought.

The sounds of dozens of stomachs emptying filled the courtyard and then, with a great, simultaneous shudder, the domestics vomited something onto the ground.

It looked like a black rock, and when the women finished expelling them they sat back and rubbed their heads as if they were waking from a long, tormented dream.

Credence went to the ground with them, panting as her stomach clenched. She pushed her fingers into her mouth, trying to expel as much of the sap from her body as she could. She wasn't sure if the sap would still change her now that the imposter was dead, but she thought it best to take precaution. A fountain of sap sprayed from her mouth, and though it was not all, it was enough to calm her stomach and bring her back to her feet.

An older student found her courage first and knelt to examine one of the rocks expelled by the domestics. There were tiny, vein-like roots stretching around it, which had once been attached to something, but were now shriveling under the night air.

"It's...a seed!" the student announced, and the sound of her voice snapped everyone to attention.

A wave of understanding passed through the courtyard, and all the students took it upon themselves to repeat after Credence and stomp every seed they could find.

With nothing left to squish, the thrill of victory took hold, and the children let out a collective holler of joy. They helped the domestics to their feet and the old woman began to question with soft, trembling voices, asking what had happened and where they were.

As much as she wanted to join the celebration, there was one final task for Credence to complete. She could not understand how she knew what to do, but something guided her to the cluster of gnarled trees.

Not caring who saw, she cupped her palm and called to fire, and the element responded instantly. With a flick of her wrist, the fire left her hand and jumped onto one of the trees, and it spread until each of them was washed in light.

Those poor souls, who had been trapped for so long in pain.

They were free now.

"I hope this will ease your suffering," Credence whispered to the burning wood.

Smoke poured over the courtyard, causing many to cough and cover their mouths.

A burden was lifted from Credence as the orchard toppled and turned to ash.

From the trees came a great cracking, and the trunk closest to the school fell towards the building, as if on purpose. Its flaming branches reached through one of the glassless windows. The brick walls of the school would be little bothered, but there were objects aplenty within for fire to eat.

To help it, Credence directed the fire to jump into the window and burn everything it could.

You're free, she thought to it. Free to burn whatever you can.

Fire, as always, was happy to oblige.

Light erupted inside, brightening the windows with red and yellow and orange.

Those in the courtyard did not try to stop it, but watched in awe as the place they called home was surrendered to the flames.

No one approached Credence. Everyone kept their distance from the girl at the center of the destruction. A few looked at her expectantly, trying to find sense in what they had witnessed.

Credence would never be able to explain it to them, but she hoped they understood that she had saved them.

But they were no longer her concern. She did not care what became of them beyond this night, and her only focus was getting to the hole at the entrance of the towns.

She moved to the courtyard gate, ready to climb it, but stopped when she saw a crowd approaching from the streets. Their attention had been brought over by the students' cries of joy, and they gathered at the gate, open-mouthed and horrified as they beheld the burning school.

A chorus of murmurs rose from them, and one man, whom Credence recognized as the woodcutter who had brought Penny's sapling to the school, pointed his torch at Credence and scowled.

"Where is your headmaster?" he asked her, suspicion raised in his tone.

Credence barely heard him over the pounding drum of her heartbeat, and the question being asked over and over in her mind:

What will they do with us now?