The Black Witch. Laurie Forest

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       PROLOGUE

      “We cannot allow the Black Witch to be in possession of the White Wand.”

      “The White Wand chooses its own path. You know that, Kam. To interfere would be to court disaster.”

      The two women stand in the guard tower at Verpax’s entrance gate. They watch through high-arched windows as an elegant carriage makes its way down the winding road that leads to the University. The carriage’s horses press on slowly, their heads bowed by the rain and howling wind.

      Every so often, thunder rumbles in the distance.

      One of the women, a Gardnerian, is still and calm, her dark green eyes narrowed behind gold-rimmed spectacles as she peers through the diamond-paned glass, her ebony hair tied back into a neat bun.

      The second woman, a Vu Trin sorceress, is garbed in a black uniform marked with glowing blue rune-marks. She wears a series of razor-sharp metal stars strapped diagonally across her chest, curved swords sheathed at her sides. Her eyes are dark, her skin a deep brown, and she wears her straight black hair tied into a tight, ropy coil, as is the custom of the Vu Trin soldiers.

      “If she is indeed the one, we need to strike her down immediately,” the sorceress says with fierce resolve. “Before she realizes her power. While there is still time.” She sets her cold gaze back on the carriage as a streak of lightning scythes through the sky, flashing against the steel of her weapons.

      The Gardnerian holds up a hand in calm protest as she watches the carriage. Thunder cracks overhead. “Patience, Kam. Patience. We must give the girl a chance.”

      The sorceress turns her head sharply to face her companion. “Have you forgotten the Prophecy?”

      “The Prophecy is vague. The girl has a choice, as we all do. Her future is not fixed. She might not choose the path of darkness.”

      “And what of this girl’s grandmother? What of her?” The sorceress’s face grows hard. “Was she not once just a girl, as well? A girl with a choice? A girl who chose to kill thousands of 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 do not.”

      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.”