Page 12 of The Black Witch

Sage wipes her eyes with the back of her shaking, disfigured hand and casts a sidelong glance at my cottage. “Theydo!” She looks over her shoulder and gives her own home a pained look. “I wish... I wish I could explain to my family what’s really going on. To make themsee. But theybelieve.” Her frown deepens, and she sets her gaze hard on me. “The Council’s coming for him, Elloren. They think he’s Evil. That’s why your aunt’s here.”

“No, Sage,” I insist. “She’s here to talk to me about wandfasting.”

She shakes her head vehemently. “No. They’re coming for my baby. And I have to leave before they get here.” She looks away for a moment as if desperately trying to compose herself. She hides her hand back under her cloak and cradles the small bundle inside. I wonder why she won’t let me see him.

I reach out to touch her arm. “You’re imagining all this, Sage. There’s no way anyone would want to hurt your baby.”

She glares at me with angry frustration, then shakes her head as if resigned to madness. “Goodbye, Elloren,” she says as if she pities me. “Good luck.”

“Wait...” I implore as she begins to walk along the fence line in the direction of the great wilderness. I follow her brisk pace, the fence separating us, leaning over it to reach her as she veers away, her back receding into the distance—a dark, ghostly figure making her way through the last of the morning mist.

The trees swallow her up into their darkness just as the sun rises, transforming the eerie blue dreamworld of early morning into the clear, sunlit world of day.

My fingers fumble under my cloak for the wand, half expecting it to be gone, expecting to find that I was sleepwalking and imagined all of this. But then I feel it—smooth and straight and very much real.

* * *

I rush back to the house, the sunlight steadily gaining strength.

Shaken, I’m desperate to find Uncle Edwin. Surely he’ll know what to do.

As I round the trees, I’m surprised to see Aunt Vyvian standing in the doorway watching me, her expression unreadable.

A small wave of apprehension washes over me at the sight of her, and I immediately slow my pace, struggling to turn my expression blank, as if returning from an uneventful morning stroll. But my mind is a tumult.

Those marks on Sage’s hands—they were so horrible. Maybe Sage is right. Maybe the Council is planning to take her baby away...

Aunt Vyvian tilts her head and eyes me thoughtfully as I approach. “Are you done packing?” she asks. “We’re ready to go.”

I stand awkwardly in front of her, not able to move forward as she’s blocking the doorway. “Yes, I’m done.” I’m acutely aware of the wand, my hand involuntarily drawn to it.

My aunt’s eyes flicker in the direction of the Gaffneys’ farm. “Did you visit with Sage Gaffney?” Her face is open, welcoming me to confide in her.

Shock flashes through me. How does she know that Sage is here?

I glance back toward the wilds, my heart thumping against my chest.

Sage was right. Aunt Vyvian isn’t just here for me. Clearly she’s here for Sage, too. But surely she would never harm a baby?

Aunt Vyvian sighs. “It’s all right, Elloren. I know she’s here, and I realize it must be terribly upsetting to see her. She’s...very troubled. We’re trying to help her, but...” She shakes her head sadly. “How is she?” Her tone is one of maternal concern. Some of my tension lightens.

“She’s terribly frightened.” The words rush out. “The baby. She thinks someone wants to harm him. That someone from the Council is coming to take him away from her.”

My aunt doesn’t seem surprised by this. She fixes me with the type of look adults use when they are about to reveal to a child some unfortunate, troubling fact of life. “The Counciliscoming to take custody of her baby.”

I blink in shocked surprise.

Aunt Vyvian lays a comforting hand on my shoulder. “The child is deformed, Elloren. It needs a physician’s care, and much more.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I breathe, almost not wanting to know.

Aunt Vyvian searches my eyes, hesitant to tell me what I know will be something monstrous. “Elloren,” she explains gravely, “Sage has given birth to an Icaral.”

I recoil at the word.No! It can’t be.It’s too horrible to imagine. One of the Evil Winged Ones—like giving birth to a grotesque demon. No wonder Sage didn’t let me see her child.

The dull thud of horses’ hooves sounds in the distance, and I spot another Mage Council carriage rounding the hills and making its way down into the valley toward the Gaffneys’ estate. It’s followed by eight Gardnerian soldiers on horseback.

“Can the child be helped?” My voice comes out in a shocked whisper as I watch the carriage and the soldiers nearing the cottage.

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