Page 134 of The Black Witch

“No, I’m looking for afactualhistory.”

He purses his lips and gives me an appraising look. “History is a tricky thing, Mage Gardner. What is written about it is usually subjective, and it’s often very difficult to find the truth of the matter.”

“Well, then,” I persist, “what’syourhistory of Gardneria?”

He coughs out an uncomfortable laugh in response. “Professors aren’t supposed to teach that way, Mage Gardner. My opinion hardly matters.”

“Please, Professor Kristian,” I press with some vehemence. “It’s important to me. Please just tell me what you know.”

He looks down at his desk for a moment, his brow knits as if deliberating with himself how best to answer me before meeting my stubborn gaze once more.

“It could take some time,” he cautions.

“I have the time,” I reply, undaunted. I settle back against the chair.

He stares at me for a long, uncomfortable minute, perhaps waiting to see if I’ll give up and go away. “Very well, Mage Gardner,” he finally says, leaning toward me. “The story of Gardneria rightfully begins with Styvius Gardner, your people’s first Great Mage. He was your grandfather...about six generations back, I believe?”

I nod in assent.

“That’s quite the bloodline you have,” he observes, eyeing me shrewdly. “Not only Carnissa Gardner, The Black Witch, but Styvius Gardner, as well—both of Gardneria’s Great Mages in one family.”

I consider this. “I didn’t really know just how revered my family is. And hated. Not until I left Halfix anyway.”

“And I’m sure you know that Styvius was born to a Mage mother back when the Kelts were the region’s ruling power?”

I inwardly stiffen, aware of Professor Kristian’s Keltic ethnicity. “I know that the Kelts hated my people and were horrible to them.”

“And do you knowwhyyour people were hated?” Professor Kristian asks.

I eye him squarely. “Prejudice.”

“Quite so,” he says, sitting back and nodding. “They were treated very badly. Abused in every way. Treated like slaves. Sometimes even killed at birth. The Kelts saw them as half-breeds polluted by Fae blood.”

I bristle at the slur, then think uncomfortably about Gareth, Tierney and my own hidden attraction to wood.

He tilts his head. “Haven’t you ever wondered where you get that slight shimmer to your skin?”

“It’s the mark of the First Children,” I tell him. “Set down on us by the Ancient One in blessing.”

He lets out a short, unsurprised laugh. “A lofty notion, indeed. And complete fiction. It’s more likely your people are descended from the union of Kelts settled at the Northern Forest border and Fae Dryads.”

I gape at him, stunned. “What? The Tree Fae?” That’s ridiculous. We’re a pure-blooded race.

“It would explain why your kind possess some weak branch magic, and the Dryads were said to have skin that glimmered in the night,” he says.

I arch my brow at him, eyeing him with deep skepticism. There’s no telling what the Tree Fae looked like—they were killed off by the Kelts long ago. And Gardnerians havewandmagic. Not crassbranchmagic. I clutch at the wooden chair under my hands.

River Maple.

I pull my hands away from the smooth wood and set them in my lap.

“The ancient Kelts had good reason to despise the Fae,” Professor Kristian continues. “When they first set foot on this land, around the year 2000 D, the Fae attacked and enslaved them. But the Kelts quickly discovered that they could gain the upper hand with iron weapons.”

This I already know. The Kelts came here fleeing a war, the distant Keltic lands now impossible to return to, a thick band of kracken-infested sea making it treacherous to travel there. The Kelts came, jammed onto ships, half starved, to the shores of the Western Realm. They were immediately set upon and promptly enslaved by the Fae. Until the Kelts realized that the iron they are impervious to is death to the Fae.

I know that iron-wielding Kelts then annihilated most of the Fae and took over a large chunk of the Western Realm.

An unbidden image of Tierney enters my mind—her ever-present lab gloves, her careful, focused expression when handling iron lab equipment. I push the thought to the back of my mind.

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