Page 109 of The Black Witch

I glance around wildly. Yvan, Fernyllia, Iris, Bleddyn and several other kitchen laborers have streamed out of the kitchen to gawk at the beat-up Gardnerian.

“Who attacked you, Mage Gardner?” Vice Chancellor Quillen asks.

I look into her unflinching green eyes and bite at the inside of my cheek to steady myself, feeling as if the room is closing in on me. Everyone grows silent as they wait for my answer. I have to say something. Anything, before Lukas does.

“I tripped.”

Priest Simitri’s face screws up in confusion. “You...tripped?”

I nod. “Down the North Tower’s staircase. I’m terribly clumsy. I even trippedheremy first day.” I motion toward the kitchen staff and narrow my eyes in their direction. “Ask them.”

Yvan’s eyes fly open with surprise. Iris and Bleddyn both gape at me in confusion.

“You need a healer.” Priest Simitri steps forward to gently take my arm. “I’ll bring you there.”

As the priest leads me away, I turn to face Lukas.

Something irretrievable has broken between us. It was too much, what he did. I don’t think I can ever forgive him.

As if reading my thoughts, Lukas shoots me a look of disgust and strides off.

* * *

Late that evening I’m out by the chicken shed, fumbling in the darkness to find the latch on one of the cages, a burlap sack in hand. Even after a healer’s care, my left eye is still slightly swollen, and it throbs along with my head.

“What are you doing?”

Yvan’s stern voice makes me jump. I can just make out the silhouette of his tall, lanky form, a large scrap bucket in each of his hands.

“I’m stealing a chicken,” I snap, my heart thumping against my chest. “For Ariel.”

“The Icaral,” he says flatly, disbelieving.

“She can speak to them with her mind.”

His black shape stands there for a long minute, and I can begin to make out those intense green eyes of his.

“Are you going to turn me in for theft, or are you going to leave me alone?” I demand in challenge. “Because I’d really like you to choose one or the other.”

His brow goes tight as if deeply troubled, and he opens his mouth to say something but then closes it again in a tight, uncertain line.

My bravado collapses in on itself.

“I made a mistake,” I tell him, my voice breaking. My anger is gone, only raw shame remaining, leaving me suddenly unguarded. “I was wrong. I never meant...”

I stop, afraid I’ll burst into tears. My face tensed tight, I look away.

When I turn back to him, his eyes have gone wide, unguarded as well, and I feel a warm rush of shock, so strong is this brief sense of inexplicable kinship.

Yvan tenses and shakes his head as if to ward me off. But he stares at me for a moment longer, conflict raging in his eyes, before abruptly turning and stalking away.

When I return to the North Tower, Wynter is sitting on Ariel’s bed, murmuring to her and gently stroking her head. Ariel lies there limply, her back to me.

The dead kindred is gone, but the blood stains on the door remain as dark reminders of what happened.

I release the chicken from the burlap sack. The animal immediately makes its way over to Wynter and Ariel and flies up to roost against Ariel’s side.

Wynter views the bird with surprise. She looks up at me, her face softening.

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