Page 96 of The Black Witch

The observatory’s ceiling is adorned with a breathtaking depiction of the major constellations, highlighted by a blue that swirls so dramatically it almost gives me vertigo. The floor is marked with a giant compass rose, and telescopes encircle the deserted room, evenly spaced in front of huge, arching windows. A panoramic view of the Northern and Southern Spines lit golden by the setting sun takes my breath away.

A tremor of excitement courses through me as I run my hand along the length of one of the smooth, black-lacquered instruments.

My elation is quickly cut short as Fallon Bane sweeps into the observatory, flanked by four Gardnerian military apprentices and, behind them, her military guard.

Former thoughts of bravado instantly forgotten, I shrink back behind the telescope, my heart speeding, praying that Fallon doesn’t spot me.

“I can’t believe they’ve got you rooming with the Lupine bitch,” a thin-nosed apprentice crows as Fallon claims the next telescope over.

“She won’t be here long.” Fallon sits down on the windowsill’s edge, her ebony wand gleaming at her waist. “She seems easily provoked.”

“Are you trying to provoke her, then?” The young man seems amused by Fallon’s daring.

“I enjoy provoking anyone who doesn’t belong here.” Fallon glances at the nails of one hand as if bored. “Lupine bitches, Snake Elves...” She looks straight at me.

Reflexively, I slouch farther behind the scope.

Fallon’s mouth turns up in a wicked smirk. “Well, if it isn’tMageElloren Gardner.”

I force myself up, struggling not to be cowed by her.

“Enjoying your new roommates?” Fallon jibes.

Anger flares within me. “Not as much as I’m enjoying spending time with Lukas Grey,” I reply evenly, surprising myself with my audacity—and my overwhelming stupidity.

The young men surrounding Fallon go quiet and wide-eyed.

There’s a flash of murderous rage in her eyes, but Fallon quickly collects herself. She sniffs the air, her lovely nose crinkling. “You smellvile,” she tells me with a mocking smile. “Like an Icaral.”

The young men smirk, a laugh bursting from the thin-nosed apprentice. One of the other apprentices grimaces and waves the air in front of his face to more chuckling.

I surreptitiously inhale and realize Fallon’s right. Some of Ariel’s foul odor clings to my clothing.

Not only do I have to live with Icarals, but now I smell like them, too.

My face heats as Fallon revels in my humiliation, and my temper flares, making me reckless. “Well, at least my stench is a temporary situation, unlike Lukas’s disinterest in you.”

Fallon gapes at me as she coughs out a stunned laugh, her hand grasping her wand.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My heart hammers out. Have you lost your mind?

Fallon turns to her companions. “She’s amouthyone, isn’t she?” She pins me with her gaze, her eyes flicking toward the young men then back to me. “She’d make a nice ice sculpture, don’t you think?” A rancid venom is creeping into the edges of her tone. “It would cure both the stink and her...mouth.”

Incensed,I glare back at her. “It’s against Gardnerian law to threaten another Mage with magic.”

She spits out a jeering laugh. “Oh, you’rebarelya Mage.” She looks me over with disgust. “Level One, isn’t it? Your family must besoproud.” She’s smiling jovially, but there’s an off-kilter rage in her eyes that shoots a chill clear up my spine.

I’m starting to wonder if my constant sleep deprivation is seriously compromising my judgment. A Level One mouthing off to a Level Five. With two Level Five brothers.

Smart move, Elloren.

Fallon pointedly turns her back to me, focusing again on the young men vying for her attention. Scholars begin to filter in, followed by the class’s long-bearded Gardnerian professor, and I make my escape.

I rush down the stairs and through the building’s dim hallways.

In my haste, I take a wrong turn and quickly find myself lost and disoriented in a deserted part of the building, paintings of the night sky on the dark walls illuminated by torchlight. Hearing voices around a bend up ahead, I start forward.

The ground beneath me suddenly becomes unbelievably slick, my feet scrambling until I completely lose my footing. I fall forward against a stone wall, my books and papers scattering everywhere, the box of medicinal vials crashing to the ground in a shower of broken glass and pungent odor. My hands slap the floor with a cold sting, and I find, to my astonishment, that I’m lying on solid ice.

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