Page 209 of The Black Witch

Diana made a great show of looking disgruntled and offended before padding out of the room in a snit. A few minutes later after my murderous feelings toward the Lupine princess had begun to abate, I heard a very perfunctory knock on the door.

“What?” I snapped. Did she ever give up?Ever?

“May I please come in and speak with you?” she announced with stiff formality.

“No!” I cried, still fuming as I pulled on a camisole and pantaletes.

After a few seconds there was another knock. “What about now?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I let out a deep sigh. As easy as it is to get mad at Diana, it’s just as hard to stay mad at her. “Come in,” I relented.

Diana padded back in and took a seat on the edge of the washtub, eyeing me like I was slightly deranged.

I frowned at her and went about combing out my hair with a vengeance. “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you about something,” she said reluctantly.

That was something new. Diana was never reluctant. I paused and turned to face her.

“I wrote to my parents,” she began. “I asked them about bringing you home with me.”

Something warm and comforting dropped out of my center. The pain of anticipated rejection that replaced it was surprisingly sharp.

No. They said no. Of course they had. Diana was a fool to have thought it would be any different. A naive fool.She thinks she’s so all-knowing; that her people are so perfect. Turns out the noble Lupines are just like everyone else. Full of prejudice.

“My father,” she began tentatively, “suggested that they meet you first.”

In other words, no.

I turned my back to her and kept combing at my hair, even more roughly this time, pulling hard at the tangles, glad that it hurt. It distracted me. Kept me from crying. It’s better to be angry than pathetic.

“It’s okay,” I told her stiffly, swallowing down the pain of rejection. “I’ve been thinking on it, and I really don’t think I want to visit your people anyway. My people are just too different from yours. I don’t think I’d be comfortable.”

“Elloren...” she tried, her tone kind. On some level, I knew that she was really trying, that she was on my side, but the part of me that wanted to hate her at that moment out of sheer hurt was stronger.

“Please get out, Diana,” I said harshly. “I’d like to finish up with some privacy. I really don’t want you here.” I took some small, fleeting satisfaction in the look of hurt that crossed over her face before she left.

So much for sisters, I thought as she quietly closed the door. I pulled harder at my wet hair, tears stinging at my eyes.So much for finding friends and family among her people. So much for not losing my brother, but gaining a sister. I’m not gaining anything.

It’s just as I thought.

* * *

“It’s not possible to be close friends with Diana,” I tell Aislinn stiffly. “She’s just so...different. She’ll never understand what it’s like for us.”

Aislinn is studying me closely, as if she can read the conflict behind my words. I look away and try to swallow back a hurt that still feels jagged and raw.

I close my eyes and reach up to rub my temples, a dull throb beginning to send an ache through them. After a long moment I open my eyes and survey all the books scattered about.

“What happened to the Fae?” I ask Aislinn. “Toward the end of the Realm War.”

“They were brought to the Pyrran Isles,” Aislinn says, cocking her head in question.

“And after that?” I press. “What then?”

Aislinn shrugs, her expression growing dark with unease. “They were resettled. Somewhere in the far north...” Her voice trails off. “What? You think something else happened to them?”

I can make out the paper-thinclickof an Elfin pendulum clock and the small trickle of the waterfall as silence descends between us.

---