Page 92 of The Black Witch

I take a deep breath, considering this. “Well,Idon’t have a choice. There’s no room in my schedule to take a different section. Not with my kitchen labor. I have to take this class, Lupines or not.” I glance over at the laboratory entrance, sure that the Lupines can’t be anywhere near as bad as my Icaral lodging mates.

The remaining scholars are filtering in. I turn back to Aislinn. “I think we should just sneak in and take a seat near the back. I doubt the Lupines will even notice us.”

Aislinn casts a sidelong glance toward the twins, deliberating.

“My father’s away for a few months,” she says, staring over at the wolf-shifters as if calculating the risks. “By the time he gets back, the class will be over.” She turns back toward me with shaky resolve and wipes the tears from her eyes. “All right, Elloren. Let’s go in.”

* * *

We creep in as unobtrusively as we can, sliding past Professor Volya and the Lupines, making our way toward the back of the room. We’re soon approached by a young Elfhollen apprentice, the Chemistrie Guild crest hanging from his neck.

“Names?” he asks with cold formality, his pen poised over a class list. We quietly tell him who we are. He checks us off and moves on, blessedly ignoring my pedigree.

There are a series of distillations on the long tables behind us, the sound of their steady bubbling soothing to the ear, and I find myself instantly fascinated by the equipment. The end product, an oily yellow liquid, is giving off a sour smell that’s mildly sulfurous. A set of arching windows on the opposite wall are partially blocked by rows of shelves. They’re stocked with vials and bottles filled with substances in every state. Lab tables are set about the room, covered with a kaleidoscope of glassware and burners, the metallic tang of Bornial flint on the chemical-laden air.

By now, most of the scholars are silently standing along the walls, their eyes fixed on the exotic Lupines. The Elfhollen lab assistant walks around the room, quietly directing people to their seats, two to a table.

“This is completely unacceptable,” the Lupine female is saying to Professor Volya, her voice all haughty arrogance. “Why can I not partner with my brother?”

Professor Volya is staring daggers at her with coal-black eyes, and I’m sure that look would make most people back down. She’s very intimidating—almost a head taller than the Lupines and of a solid, strong build. Her numerous piercings and heavily rune-marked face only add to the effect.

“Diana,” she says through gritted teeth, “you and your brother will not becomeintegratedhere if you only speak with each other.”

Diana places one hand on her hip, swings her lustrous blond hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin. “What if he’s the only person here worth speaking to?”

Professor Volya pulls herself up to her full height and looms over Diana.

“Miss Ulrich, this ismyclass, and I will run it as I see fit.” She grabs the papers from her Elfhollen assistant and scans them, her mouth a tight, unforgiving line. “Well,” she announces, “our numbers are reduced, which will allow us to move at a faster pace.” She glares over at the Lupines. “Diana Ulrich,” she says in a deep tone that brooks no argument. “Your research partner will be Mage Elloren Gardner, and Jarod Ulrich, you will partner with Mage Aislinn Greer.”

Aislinn’s eyes go wide, her obvious terror dwarfing my own shock. She opens her mouth to say something, but seems unable to speak. Instead, she stands stone-still, her mouth agape as the Elfhollen points toward a pair of adjacent tables in the back row.

Jarod Ulrich is watching Aislinn very closely with fierce eyes, his expression unreadable, and I think I see his nostrils flare. I feel alarmed, but at the same time, I remember how kind he was—how he helped me up when Fallon tripped me.

I walk back to my assigned table, sympathetic stares following me as I go. Diana plops down on the stool next to me with an annoyed huff, like someone forced to entertain fools. I watch Aislinn as Jarod takes his seat next to her. She’s gone rigid with tension.

Professor Volya opens a large text and begins to read from it.

Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I see Jarod glance over at Aislinn every now and then, his brow slightly furrowed. Aislinn continues to focus straight ahead, her hands clasped so tight her knuckles are white.

Partnered with a Lupine male. This isn’t good.

I turn to my own partner. She’s glaring at Professor Volya, her face tight with irritation.

She’s arrogant, this girl. But her brother was kind to me. Maybe these Lupines aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. It’s not ideal to be forced together like this, but perhaps it makes sense to make the best of things and try to get along.

“I’m Elloren Gardner,” I whisper to Diana, holding out a hand for her to shake, eager to get the awkward introductions out of the way.

She turns to me, seeming affronted, then glances down at my outstretched hand quizzically, as if she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. She flicks her hair proudly over one shoulder and stands up to face me, her chair screeching loudly along the floor as she does so. She clears her throat ceremoniously. “I am Diana Ulrich of the Gerwulf Pack,” she announces quite loudly. “Daughter of the Alpha, Gunther Ulrich, and his wife, the healer Daciana Ulrich, sister of Jarod Ulrich and Kendra Ulrich, paternal granddaughter of...”

Professor Volya stops lecturing, one long black eyebrow cocked with surprise. I want to crawl under the table. Diana Ulrich goes on and on through three generations, like a queen reciting her noble lineage, until her brother interrupts her, his voice low.

“Diana.”

She turns to look at him, annoyed at the interruption.“What?”

“They don’t do that here.”

“Dowhat?”

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