Laurie Forest - The Black Witch

I lean forward to close my open window and draw the blind as the carriage slows to a halt. It’s been a constant stop and go ever since we reached the city because of the heavy street traffic.

A split second before I’m about to pull the cord, something hits the window with a loud smack—a white bird’s wing, there and gone so fast, I swear I imagined it. I press my face to the window and try to locate the bird.

They’re not just birds, they’re Watchers! Sage’s words echo in my mind.

And that’s when I see her—a young woman only a few feet away from me.

She is, by far, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, even dressed as she is in a simple white tunic. Her long, silver hair sparkles like sun glinting off a waterfall and spills out over translucent skin so pale, it’s almost blue. She has a lithe, graceful figure, her legs folded together to one side, her weight supported by slender, alabaster arms.

But it’s her eyes that are the most riveting. They’re huge and gray as a stormy sea. And they’re filled with wild terror.

She’s in a cage. An actual, locked cage, only big enough for her to sit in, not stand, and it’s placed on a table. Two men stand staring at her while engaged in some private conversation. On the other side of the cage, two boys are poking at her side with a long, sharp stick, trying for a reaction.

She doesn’t seem to even register that they’re there. She’s looking straight at me, her eyes absolutely locked on to mine. Her look is one of such primal fear, I pull back from the sheer force of it, my heart beginning to pound against my chest.

The woman lunges forward, grabs fiercely at the bars in front of her and opens her mouth. My head jerks back in surprise as slender rows of silvery slits on both sides of the base of her neck fly open, her skin puffing out around them.

Holy Ancient One—she has gills!

The woman lets loose a high-pitched, earsplitting croak, the likes of which I have never heard before. I have no idea what she’s trying to scream, what’s happened to her voice, but still, her meaning is clear. She’s crying out for my help.

The men jump at the sound, put their hands over their ears and shoot her a look of annoyance. The boys laugh, perhaps thinking they provoked her cry. The boys push the stick into her once more, harder this time. Again, she doesn’t flinch. She just keeps her eyes locked on mine.

My eyes dart to the sign on the storefront above her. Pearls of the Ocean, it reads. Suddenly the carriage lurches forward, and she’s gone.

“Aunt Vyvian,” I cry, my voice strained and high-pitched, “there was a woman! With...gills! In a cage!” I point to the window on the side where she had been, my heart racing.

My aunt glances quickly in the direction of the window, her expression one of mild disgust. “Yes, Elloren,” she says, sighing. “It was hard to miss the screeching.”

“But, but...what...” I can barely get the words out.

“Selkies, Elloren, it’s a Selkie.” She cuts me off, clearly not wanting to discuss it further.

I’m stunned by her nonchalance. “She was in a cage!” I point again at the window, still not believing what I just saw.

“Not everything is how it appears on the surface, Elloren,” she says stiffly. “You’ll have to learn that if you’re going to be part of the wider world.” She peers over at me and studies my troubled face, perhaps seeing that a longer explanation is unavoidable. “They may look like humans, Elloren, but they aren’t.”

The very human-looking, terrified eyes of the young woman are burned into my mind. “What are they?” I ask, still shaken.

“They’re seals. Very fierce seals, at that.” My aunt pauses to lean back against the elaborately embroidered cushions. “Long ago, the Selkies were enchanted by a sea witch. Every full moon they come to shore somewhere on the coast, step out of their seal skin and emerge in human form. For many years they caused a great deal of havoc—attacking sailors, dismantling ships. It was terrible.”

“But she looked so frail.”

“Ah, it’s like I just said. Appearances can be deceiving. Selkies, in possession of their skins, are stronger than the strongest Mage, and like most seals, they are very dangerous predators.”

“And without their skins?”

“Very good, Elloren.” My aunt looks pleased. “You’ve gotten right to the heart of it. Without their skins, they can be easily controlled.”

“Why?”

“Because they lose their strength, and because they cannot transform back into seals without them. Without their skins, they cannot get back to the ocean. Being wild animals, no matter how long they are kept in human form, they desperately want to get back to their ocean home. They’re not human, Elloren. It’s only an illusion. Don’t let it trouble you.”

“But why was she in a cage?”

My aunt grimaces at my question, like she’s detected an unpleasant odor. “Some people like to keep them...as pets.”

I scrutinize her face. She’s not looking at me. She’s now glancing toward the window impatiently.

“She...she looked so terrified,” I say, upset.

My aunt’s expression softens. “Well, caged wild animals are never a pleasant sight. I am completely and utterly against the Selkie trade and am doing everything I can to wipe it out.” She pats my hand reassuringly.

I feel some measure of relief wash over me.

“There are better ways to deal with Selkies that are far more humane than keeping them in cages, forcing them to...act human,” she explains thoughtfully as she splays the fingers of one hand in front of herself and scrutinizes her lovely nails.

I’m so glad she feels this way. I know my brothers would agree. They’re staunchly against the abuse of animals. Rafe, especially, hates the sight of wild animals confined or shackled in cruel ways.

“So you’ll help her?” I press.

“Yes, yes, Elloren. Of course I will.” My aunt impatiently straightens her sleeve cuffs. “Once Marcus Vogel becomes High Mage, it will be possible to put an end to this sort of thing.”

I try to be consoled by this, but it’s all so troubling.

She sets her eyes on me. “But really, Elloren, I didn’t bring you here to talk about the local wildlife. There are so many more pleasant things to speak of.”

I nod silently as my aunt points out her favorite shops and historical landmarks, but the face of the Selkie stays fresh in my mind, and I can’t shake the chill I now feel for the rest of the ride.

CHAPTER SIX

Valgard

A starlit sky overhead, we arrive, the carriage pulling up before Aunt Vyvian’s three-story home, arching windows lit golden and an expansive, dark wooden staircase spilling toward us in welcome.

Lush gardens arc along the curved entrance road, and I breathe in their heady, sweet scent as the carriage slows. Ironwood trees are bursting with glowing Ironflowers that cast the road in their soft blue luminescence.

Our carriage glides to a smooth stop.

Two Urisk serving women stand on either side of the carriage door as I exit, their straight violet hair tied back into tidy braids, their ears coming to swift points and their skin the soft lavender hue of the Urisk upper class. Their coloration is new to my eyes—the only Urisk I’ve ever seen are those toiling at the Gaffneys’ farm. Those women have the white, rose-tinted skin, hair and eyes of the Urisks’ lowest class—so pale they could almost pass for Alfsigr Elves, were it not for the faintly pink sheen of their skin and hair. These upper-class women’s linen uniforms are crisply starched, snow-white tunics over long gray skirts, their expressions neutral.

Suddenly self-conscious, I grasp at the rough wool of my tunic hem. I’m shabbier than even the servants. I crane my neck up, amazed at the height of the house, and swallow apprehensively, feeling small and insignificant in contrast to this grandeur.