Page 28 of The Black Witch

I clench my toes stiffly, heart sinking, and wonder what lies she’s spreading about me.

CHAPTER TEN

The Prophecy

After my aunt gives us leave, Paige leads me quickly away. Her arm’s threaded through mine as she pulls me through a pair of open, ornate doors and into a huge ballroom. Orchestral music swells around us, and I find myself quickly caught up in the grandeur of it.

We’re surrounded by well-to-do Gardnerians, some whirling on the dance floor. Many of the people we pass gasp at the sight of me, smile appreciatively and come forward to extend compliments to my “most excellent family.” Some Urisk servants in smart white tunics circulate with golden trays of small delicacies. Other Urisk serve food from a large table that holds a wide assortment of offerings set off beautifully by vases of red roses, everything richly lit by the multiple branched candelabras that grace the table.

Paige leads me through the crowd toward the food, then gives a start as she spots Fallon and her friends entering, surrounded by Fallon’s military guard. Paige hurriedly grabs two plates, throws some candied fruit on them both and pulls me into a dim corner, the two of us partially hidden by a gigantic potted fern.

“Is that Sylus next to Fallon?” I ask as Paige hands me a plate.

Paige’s brow goes tense as she nibbles at a sugared gooseberry. “Yes, that’s him.”

I shoot her a sympathetic glance as I take a bite of candied cherry. If Sylus Bane is anything like his sister, it’s the worst of luck for mild Paige to be fasted to him.

I glance around as Paige picks at the berries, her fingers quickly becoming sticky from the sugary fruit. My eyes widen in surprise as I catch sight of familiar faces.

“It’s... Sage Gaffney’s parents,” I murmur to Paige in astonishment. They’re in the broad hallway just off to the side of the ballroom, dressed in their usual high-necked, dour, conservative garb. Their expressions are solemn and pained, and they’re being hugged by a series of well-wishers, the peoples’ faces full of grave concern. I scour the room for other members of their family and find Sage’s oldest brother, Shane. He’s at the other end of the food tables, standing beside another potted fern, dressed in his soldier’s uniform and glowering at the crowd.

Paige places her hand on mine in caution. “Elloren, you can’t say her name. And you shouldn’t go to them. Somethingterriblehas happened...”

“I know,” I tell her. “I know all about it. But I don’t understand. Why can’t I say her name?”

Paige swallows, her eyes flitting toward the Gaffneys fretfully. “She’s beenBanished.”

“Banished?”I blanch, my mouth falling open. It’s a ritual cutting off. Like a funeral. Reserved for those whose actions are so heinous, their very existence is to be erased to restore honor and purity to their family. “But...my aunt told me they’re trying to help her.”

Paige glances over at Sage’s family, her expression mournful. “I guess she didn’t want to be helped.”

I remember how mad Sage was. Giving birth to an Icaral demon—it’s enough to drive anyone mad. An image fills my mind of Sage weaving me wreaths of ribbons and meadowlark flowers when I was a child. Of Sage letting me play with her little goats. And later, as teens, of Sage patiently teaching me how to embroider intricate designs. We’d sit under the broad oak tree that lies halfway between her estate and my cottage, quietly sewing Ironflowers along the hems of our garments. I always admired her for her quiet grace and artistic ways.

I set my plate down. “I’m going to speak to her brother.”

Paige fidgets. I can see she wants no part of this, that she’s scared by the Gaffneys’ proximity to a real-life nightmare, but she doesn’t stop me as I cross the ballroom to Shane’s side.

* * *

Shane’s hand is grasped around a crystal cup tightly as if he’s trying to decide whom to throw it at. He’s shorter than most of the young soldiers here, but compensates for it with the wiry, athletic build of a fighter—all lean muscle and angry, coiled energy.

“Shane,” I say carefully as I approach, looking around and keeping my voice low. “I heard about Sage.”

He grimaces sharply. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to say her name?” He gestures toward his family with his cup, a disgusted look on his face. “They might Banish you, too.”

I glance over at the Gaffneys, troubled. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”

His expression darkens with worry and he shakes his head. “I don’t know, Elloren. I don’t know where she is. No one knows. And my younger sisters have run off with her.”

My breath catches tight.Her sisters, too!I remember the surreal sight of Sage heading into the wilderness and feel a sharp spike of guilt.Oh, Ancient One,I should have said something...

He shakes his head again in disbelief. “They sent theentireFifth Division out after them. But they couldn’t find them. It’s like they all disappeared into thin air.”

The Fifth Division is made up of the best Gardnerian trackers. It’s impossible to hide from them. They gained notoriety during the Realm War, ferreting out secret enemy bases, locating hidden groups of dangerous Fae. It’s rumored that the best of them can read a week-old trail left behind in the woods. I know all this because they’ve been actively recruiting my brother, Rafe, for a few years now.

“Isn’t that your division?” I ask. “Why aren’t you out with them?” Shane’s a tracker. And a talented one at that. Just like Rafe.

Shane’s face twists into a mask of bitterness. “Well, Elloren, it seems they thought I lacked the necessary level of detachment needed to kill my own sister.”

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