Page 3 of The Black Witch

“You should be more careful with your toys,” I gently scold the boys as I shake off the lingering image of the tree and set the figure down.

The sound of the boys’ grand battles recedes into the distance as I near the small cottage I share with Uncle Edwin and my two brothers. I peer across the broad field toward our horse stables and give a start.

A large, elegant carriage is parked there. The crest of the Mage Council, Gardneria’s highest level of government, is artfully painted on its side—a goldenMstyled with graceful, looping calligraphy.

Four military guards, real-life versions of Emmet and Brennan’s toys, sit eating some food. They’re strapping soldiers, dressed in black tunics with silver spheres marking their chests, with wands and swords at their sides.

It has to be my aunt’s carriage—it can’t possibly be anyone else’s. My aunt is a member of our ruling High Mage Council, and she always travels with an armed entourage.

A rush of excitement flashes through me, and I quicken my pace, wondering what on all of Erthia could have possibly brought my powerful aunt to remote Halfix, of all places.

I haven’t seen her since I was five years old.

* * *

We lived near her back then, in Valgard, Gardneria’s bustling port city and capital. But we hardly ever saw her.

One day, clear out of the blue, my aunt appeared in the front room of my uncle’s violin shop.

“Have you had the children wandtested?” she inquired, her tone light, but her eyes sharp as ice.

I remember how I tried to hide behind Uncle Edwin, clinging to his tunic, mesmerized by the elegant creature before me.

“Of course, Vyvian,” my uncle haltingly answered his sister. “Several times over.”

I looked up at my uncle with confused surprise. I had no memory of being wandtested, even though I knew that all Gardnerian children were.

“And what did you find?” she asked probingly.

“Rafe and Elloren are powerless,” he told her as he shifted slightly, cutting off my view of Aunt Vyvian, casting me in shadows. “But Trystan. The boy has some magic in him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Vyvian, quite.”

And that was when she began to visit with us.

Soon after, my uncle unexpectedly soured on city life. Without warning, he whisked my brothers and me away to where we now live. In tiny Halfix. At the very northeastern edge of Gardneria.

Right in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

As I round the corner of our cottage, I hear the sound of my name through the kitchen window and skid to a stop.

“Elloren isnota child anymore, Edwin.” My aunt’s voice drifts out.

I set my basket of vegetables and herbs on the ground and crouch low.

“She is too young for wandfasting,” comes my uncle’s attempt at a firm reply, a tremor of nervousness in his voice.

Wandfasting?My heart speeds up. I know that most Gardnerian girls my age are already wandfasted—magically bound to young men for life. But we’re so isolated here, surrounded by the mountains. The only girl I know who’s been fasted is Sage, and she’s up and disappeared.

“Seventeenisthe traditional age.” My aunt sounds slightly exasperated.

“I don’t care if it’s the traditional age,” my uncle persists, his tone gaining confidence. “It’s stilltoo young. She can’tpossiblyknow what she wants at this age. She’s seen nothing of the world...”

“Because youlether see nothing of it.”

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