Page 48 of The Black Witch

“And what of this girl’s grandmother? What ofher?” The sorceress’s face grows hard. “Was she not once just a girl, as well? A girl with achoice? A girl whochoseto killthousandsof my people!”

The Gardnerian takes a deep breath and slowly turns to face the sorceress, her expression one of grave sympathy. “I know how much you have suffered, Kam.”

The sorceress’s face flinches. “No.You donot.”

The words hang in the air for one long minute as the women regard each other.

The Gardnerian places a comforting hand on the sorceress’s arm, but the sorceress remains military stiff, her hands clenched tight on her swords as if ready to attack the very memory of atrocities endured. After a moment, the Gardnerian lets her hand drop and turns back to the window. Thunder rumbles again to the west.

“Now is not the time to strike her down, Kam,” the Gardnerian states. “The Wand has chosen her. We must wait a bit to find out why—to see what this girl is made of. I do not plan on making her life here easy. Curiously, I have her aunt’s cooperation in this.”

The sorceress cocks a questioning eyebrow.

“Vyvian Damon has her own motivation for putting some pressure on the girl,” the Gardnerian explains. “A wandfasting conflict. She wants the girl to fast to Lukas Grey.”

“Rising star of the Gardnerian military forces. How fitting.”

The Gardnerian chooses to ignore the comment.

“My assassins are restless,” the sorceress cautions darkly. “I cannot promise you that the girl will be safe if they view you as complacent, not after what this girl’s grandmother did to our people, and what she would have succeeded in doing had the Icaral not cut her down. And this girl—” she gestures in the direction of the carriage with a sharp jerk of her chin “—if she is indeed The One, she is prophesied to be even greater in power than Carnissa, perhaps the most powerful Mage that has ever existed.”

The Gardnerian’s mouth is pressed into a thin, hard line as she deliberates, the ticking of the clock on the wall reverberating in the silence. “I understand your dilemma,” she finally says. She straightens and turns from the window to face Kam Vin. “If the White Wand chooses to leave Elloren Gardner,orif she makes any move to contact the Amazakaran, the Kinh Hoang may strike.” Her eyes narrow, facing the sorceress down.

The sorceress meets the Vice Chancellor’s intense gaze levelly, without blinking. “That will be sufficient for now,” she says, pausing for emphasis. “But take care. We will not be patient forever.”

CHAPTER ONE

Verpax University

With a jerking, forward lurch, our carriage finishes its winding descent into the valley, the city’s lights glittering like jewels through the rain-soaked fog.

We slow down at Verpax’s gated entrance, two stone guard towers bracketing it, and I crane my neck to take in the tops of the towers with their arching, diamond-paned windows. I can just make out two still figures standing inside the window, watching us. They’re garbed in black, but the rain streams down the glass and renders their features wavy and amorphous.

“I’ll be right back,” Lukas assures me. He disembarks to talk with a pair of unsmiling Vu Trin sorceresses stationed at the gates, but my eyes are repeatedly drawn toward the watching figures.

“They’ve warded the border,” Lukas tells me as he swings back into the carriage, his shoulders and hair damp from the rain. “You’ll be quite safe.”

Our carriage makes its way through the gates, leaving the watching figures and the Vu Trin guards behind as we enter the University city.

I’m instantly swept up in the exotic bustle of Verpax, even on this cold, rainy day.

Colorful Guild crests and banners mark the Spine-stone buildings, their designs a bright contrast to the gray sky and stone. The cobbled streets are narrow, which puts my window close to shops, taverns and passersby. On either side of us, knots of cloaked Gardnerians, Kelts, Verpacians, Elfhollen, Urisk and Elves hurry through the rain, some wearing forest green professorial robes, their heads bowed against the weather like the carriage horses’.

I’m wide-eyed over the sheer number and diversity of people.

And the cornucopia of shops and taverns and crafthouses.

There are glass merchants, cheese vendors, a Gardnerian wandcrafter’s shop, cheerful lodging houses and even a swordsmith from the Eastern Realm. My nose bumps the glass as I take in the golden rune-marked, embroidered tunic of the man selling jeweled swords under a sheltering canopy, a green headband marked with more golden runes round his head.

And then I spot it—a gleaming apothecary shop, the Gardnerian Guild crest painted boldly on its front: a white mortar and pestle on a black shield, the mortar marked with a silver Erthia sphere, the image surrounded by a wreath of leaves. Neat bottles line the window, and I can just see the tight bunches of herbs hanging from the ceiling rafters in long rows. A smiling Gardnerian woman, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, talks with a customer.

My spirits rise. That could be me someday. With a beautiful shop like that.

Soon the road widens, we pass through the wrought-iron University gates and we’re there.Verpax University.

We ride down several narrow streets, the crowds thicker here, more green professorial robes in sight. The carriage slows, and we come to a stop before a mammoth, multidomed building hewn from pure alabaster Spine stone—Verpax’s central White Hall.

Craning my neck to take in the huge, rain-splattered dome, a wave of relief washes over me.

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