Page 114 of The Black Witch

I note, with some petty satisfaction, that Fallon Bane is a slob.

I guiltily pad into the room, feeling like a thief in the night, curiosity getting the better of me. She has an impressive spellbook collection. Rows of brand-new grimoires, leather-bound with crisp gold-embossed titles, are housed in a locked bookshelf, its diamond-paned glass reinforced with iron latticework. Silver knives and swords with bejeweled handles and a cunning bow hang from the walls. An expansive fireplace with a grate of wrought iron worked into the shape of dragons’ claws cranks out a delicious warmth. And to top it all off, a real-life dragon skull hangs over the mantel.

I walk over to her bed and run my hand over the silky down comforter, feeling a stab of jealousy over the luxury she basks in every night. The jealousy digs its claws deeper when I spot a small ceramic portrait on her night table.

Lukas Grey.

It’s a good likeness—handsome as sin.

I hear a terrified squeak behind me and jump, the portrait falling from my hands, landing on the tile flooring with a sharp crack that sets me wincing.

It’s Olilly, one of the Urisk workers from the kitchens. Like green-skinned Bleddyn, her coloration stands out there, as she’s not the usual rose-white, but lavender. She’s framed by the doorway, hugging a pile of clean, folded sheets to her chest.

“Beg your pardon, Mage,” she forces out, ducking her head as if I might swipe it off.

“It’s all right,” I stammer, heart racing. “It’s fine.”

She’s a fragile slip of a girl with a sweet, easily frightened nature, barely a day over fourteen, if I had to guess. I notice her amethyst eyes are a sickly red around the edges.

My eyes flick to Lukas’s portrait, which is now split right down the middle.

Oh, Ancient One. Fallon cannot come back to find this broken.

I pick up the cracked portrait of Lukas, smile at Olilly as if nothing is amiss and stuff the pieces into my cloak pocket.

There’s the jostling click and small creak of a door being opened, a flurry of troubled murmuring and then a familiar voice rises above the others.

“Holy Ancient One! She is such a filthyanimal!”

My heart drops through my feet and straight to the ground.

Fallon.

I recoil back behind the door, my legs quickly rendered to jelly, the breath sucked clear out of my lungs.

What will she do to me?My heart feels as though it will pound straight through my chest. I glance through the slit by the door frame to see Echo, Paige and Fallon standing in the room, and another spasm of fear shoots through me. Tierney is frozen by her desk, regarding them with barely concealed panic.

Olilly eyes me with abject horror, quickly realizing that I’m not supposed to be here.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Echo cries with a morally outraged wave of her hand toward the naked Diana. “She’sdisgusting. Look at her! We can’t be expected...we’reGardnerians! Not filthy, heathenwhores!”

Fallon throws a blanket roughly over Diana. Diana snorts a few times, turns over and resumes snoring. “There,” Fallon says to Echo. “Better?”

“No, Fallon. No,” Echo rejoins. “Only her leaving here forgoodwould make it better.”

Fallon laughs and throws her cloak onto a nearby chair. “She sounds like a snuffling pig.” Fallon’s smile disappears as she takes in Tierney’s frozen expression.

“What areyoulooking at?” she demands. “Ancient One, you’re like a ghoul.”

I shrink farther back behind the door.

Fallon glances around, as if sensing something amiss, her eyes lighting on Olilly. Her face goes hard. “What areyoudoing here?”

Eyes wide with terror, Olilly opens her mouth but no sound emerges.

Fallon sighs as if she’s dealing with an unruly dog. “Get over here,” she demands, straightening and pointing to a spot on the floor before her.

Olilly rushes to her, head down, hugging at the sheets.

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