Page 145 of The Black Witch

“Tierney,” I question, deeply thrown, “why...”

“I didn’t put it there,” she quickly points out, her eyes full of warning.

My stomach lurches, my whole body tensing.

Fallon. How on Erthia did she get it out of my brothers’ lodging?

I quickly pull myself together, assessing the situation with a wary eye. “That’s her big revenge?” I scoff, loud enough for Gesine and the other apprentices to hear. “Moving my violin from one place to another?”

I give them a defiant smile and reach out to pick my violin up. As I lift the instrument, it falls apart into two neat halves, cleanly split down the middle.

Just like Lukas’s portrait.

My center drops, and I can feel myself blanching.

“I’m sorry, Elloren,” Tierney says, pained, keeping her voice low. “It’s important to you, I’m sure.” She glances darkly toward Gesine and the other young women, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Or else she wouldn’t have bothered with it.”

Tears sting at my eyes, and I can barely choke the words out. “It was important, yes.”And I’ll never be able to make another violin with Uncle Edwin again.

I can’t say any more than that without bursting into pathetic sobbing, my mouth trembling.

Gesine and the other women’s eyes dart toward me, the four of them barely able to suppress their gloating smiles, waiting for me to fall apart.

No. I will not give them the satisfaction.

“What will you do?” Tierney asks me worriedly.

“Nothing,” I say, my fury pulling me firmly together, searing the tears to oblivion. “I imagine, in Fallon’s warped mind, that we’re about even at the moment.” I pick up my violin, force a trembling, defiant smile and look right at Gesine and her cohorts as I calmly slide my precious, broken-beyond-repair violin back into its case.

I dust off my hands, sit down next to Tierney and turn to see her blinking at me with unwavering concern.

I give her a wide, chilling smile. “You know, I just might go to that Yule Dance after all.”

* * *

It’s early evening, two days later, and I’m sitting with Jarod Ulrich in an out-of-the-way alcove of the main University archives. Chemistrie notes, paper, pens and ink are spread out on the rough wooden table in front of Jarod and me, my mounting hatred of Fallon Bane having to get in line behind the need to buckle down and study, but I can’t seem to let it go.

* * *

Soon after I found my destroyed violin, I marched straight to my brothers’ lodging. Only Trystan was there, his face lighting with concern the moment he opened the door and took in my expression—my whole body practically vibrating with hot fury.

She’d wounded me, Fallon. Hit me where the blow would truly hurt. I was increasingly finding that this was her specialty.

Trystan quietly stepped back, opening the door wider in welcome. I stepped inside and pulled out the remains of my violin for him to peruse.

His eyes widened as he took it into his hands, strings dangling.

“Fallon Bane’s work.” I spat out each word.

He shot me a quick look of surprise before turning his attention back to the violin. “That’s quite a clean cut,” he marveled as he ran his finger along the perfectly straight edge, studying it. “She must have used a jigsaw.”

“Or some evil spell,” I ground out under my breath, abhorrence coursing over me in waves.

“I knew something wasn’t right,” Trystan said, shaking his head. “When I got back here last night, our doorknob was so cold it hurt to touch it.”

Of course it was. Compliments of the Ice Witch.

“How could she know I kept it in here?” I wondered.

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