Spotlight: The Black Witch (The Black Witch Chronicles) by Laurie Forest

The Black Witch 

An Epic Fantasy Novel 

(The Black Witch Chronicles)

by Laurie Forest

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Age Range: 14+ years
Grade Level: 7 and up
“Potter-worthy.” —Justine magazine

“A whole new, thrilling approach to fantasy!”–#1 New York Times bestselling author Tamora Pierce

“Powerful” —New York Times bestselling author Robin Hobb

“Exquisite.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review

A new Black Witch will rise…her powers vast beyond imagining.

A Great Winged One will soon arise and cast his fearsome shadow upon the land. And just as Night slays Day, and Day slays Night, so also shall another Black Witch rise to meet him, her powers vast beyond imagining.

So foretells the greatest prophecy of the Gardnerian mages. Carnissa Gardner, the last prophesied Black Witch, drove back the enemy forces and saved her people during the Realm War. Now a new evil is on the horizon, and her granddaughter, Elloren, is believed to be Carnissa’s heir—but while she is the absolute image of her famous grandmother, Elloren is utterly devoid of power in a society that prizes magical ability above nearly all else.

When she is granted the opportunity to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an apothecary, Elloren is eager to join her brothers at the prestigious Verpax University and finally embrace a destiny of her own, free from the shadow of her grandmother’s legacy. But she soon realizes that the university, which admits all manner of people—including the fire-wielding, winged Icarals, the sworn enemies of all Gardnerians—is an even more treacherous place for the granddaughter of the Black Witch.

Excerpted from The Black Witch by Laurie Forest, copyright 2017 by Laurie Forest. Reprinted with permission by HarperCollins Publishers.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Selkie

I stare out the window of my aunt’s grand carriage as the scenery gradually changes from wilderness interspersed with farmland to small towns with more horse traffic. We sit opposite each other on green silk-cushioned seats, windows to our sides. A red, tasseled cord hangs from the ceiling that can be pulled to get the driver’s attention.

I run my fingers nervously along the polished wood that lines my seat, its smooth touch soothing to me. An image of its source tree suffuses my mind, delicate, pointed leaves sparkling gold in the sunlight.

Star Maple.

I breathe in deep and let the tree anchor me.

All throughout the morning and well into the afternoon, my aunt quietly works on Mage Council paperwork on a small table that folds out from the wall.

Aunt Vyvian’s the only woman to ever sit on our ruling Mage Council. She’s one of twelve Mages there, not counting our High Mage. You have to be important to be on the Mage Council, and it’s usually made up of powerful priests or Guild leaders, like Warren Gaffney, who’s the head of the Agricultural Guild. But Aunt Vyvian has especially high status, being the daughter of the Black Witch.

Aunt Vyvian dips her pen in an inkwell with a sharp tap, her script graceful as a professional calligrapher’s.

Glancing up, she smiles at me, then finishes up the page she’s working on and places it into a large, important-looking, black leather folder, the Mage Council’s golden M affixed to its front. After clearing the table, she collapses it back against the wall, smooths her skirts and turns her attention to me.

“Well, Elloren,” she begins pleasantly, “it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and an even longer time since we’ve had a chance to talk. I really do regret that your uncle left everything to the last minute like this. It must be very confusing for you, and I suspect you have some questions.”

I ponder this. Sage’s deformed hands are foremost on my mind.

“When I saw Sage this morning,” I begin, tentatively, “her hands were wounded…horribly wounded.”

My aunt looks a bit taken aback. She sighs deeply. “Elloren,” she says, her face solemn, “Sage left her fastmate and ran off with a Kelt.”

A rush of shock runs through me. The Kelts killed my parents. They oppressed my people for generations. How could kind, gentle Sage have run off with…a Kelt?

My aunt’s brow tightens in sympathy. “I know this must be hard for you, since you were friendly with the girl, but wandfasting is a sacred commitment, and breaking that commitment has serious consequences.” Her face softens when she sees my troubled expression. “Do not despair, Elloren,” she says to comfort me. “There is hope yet. Tobias is willing to take Sage back, and there may be hope for her child, as well. The Ancient One is full of compassion when we truly repent and beg for forgiveness.”

I remember Sage’s defiance and think it highly unlikely she will beg for anyone’s forgiveness, least of all Tobias’s. I’ve hidden Sage’s white wand inside the lining of my travel trunk, so at least being in possession of a stolen wand won’t be added to her horrific troubles.

“It doesn’t hurt to be fasted, does it?” I ask Aunt Vyvian worriedly.

My aunt laughs at this and leans forward to pat my hand with affection. “No, Elloren. It’s not painful at all! The priest simply has the couple hold hands before waving his wand over them and reciting a few words. It’s not something you feel, although it does leave an imprint on your hand, which you’ve seen before.” My aunt holds out her hand, which is marked with graceful black swirls that extend to her wrist.

Unlike my uncle, who never married, most Gardnerian adults have some variation of these marks on their hands and wrists, the design unique to each couple and influenced by their Mage affinity lines. Hers are quite beautiful; undimmed by time and the death of her fastmate in the Realm War.

“Do not let Sage’s unfortunate situation color your view of wandfasting,” my aunt cautions. “Wandfasting is a beautiful sacrament, meant to keep us pure and chaste. The lure of the Evil Ones is strong, Elloren. Wandfasting helps young people such as yourself to stay on the path of virtue. It’s one of the many things that sets us apart from the heretic races all around us.” She motions toward me with both hands, palms upturned. “That is why I would like to see you wandfasted to someone you find appealing, someone who would be right for you. I’m having a party at week’s end while you’re in Valgard. Let me know if there is any young man who particularly catches your fancy.” My aunt smiles at me conspiratorially.

A heady anticipation ripples through me.

What if I meet a young man I like at my aunt’s party? Might he ask me to dance? Or to walk with him in a beautiful garden? There’s a dearth of young, unfasted men in Halfix, and none that I fancy. Meeting a young man in Valgard is a thrilling thought, and I spend a fair bit of time dreamily considering it.

It takes several days to reach Valgard, and we stop often to change horses, stretch our legs and retire in the evening to sumptuous lodging. My aunt picks only the best guesthouses—delicious food brought to our rooms, fresh flowers gracing the tables and soft bedding stuffed with down.

Over meals and during the long carriage rides, Aunt Vyvian tells me about the people she’s invited to her party: the various young men, along with their accomplishments and family connections, as well as the young women I will be meeting and who they’re wandfasted to. She also speaks about her hopes for the rise of Marcus Vogel to High Mage, our highest level of government. Our current High Mage, Aldus Worthin, is elderly and getting ready to step down in the spring.

Marcus Vogel’s name catches my attention. I remember a conversation my brother Rafe recently had with Uncle Edwin about him. Uncle Edwin was surprisingly strident in his dismissal of Vogel, calling him a “rabid zealot.”

“Half the Council is still behind Phinneas Callnan for our next High Mage,” Aunt Vyvian tells me, her tone clipped. “But the man has no spine. He’s forgotten his own faith and how we were almost destroyed as a people.” She shakes her head in strident disapproval. “If it was up to him, I suspect we’d all be slaves again, or half-breeds.” She pats my hand as if I need consoling on this point. “No matter, Elloren. The referendum’s not until spring, and Vogel’s support grows every day.”

Though her harsh words make me uneasy, I find myself falling under Aunt Vyvian’s congenial spell, and she brightens in response to my rapt attention. She’s a wonderful traveling companion, charming and vivacious. And she paints such vivid pictures of each person she describes that I imagine I’ll be able to recognize them on sight.

She seems particularly fond of a young man named Lukas Grey—a powerful, Level Five Mage and rising star in the Gardnerian military.

“He’s the son of the High Commander of the entire Mage Guard,” she tells me as we roll along, a spectacular view of the Voltic Sea to my right, the late-afternoon sun sparkling on its waves. “And he’s a top graduate of the University.”

“What did he study?” I ask, curious.

“Military history and languages,” she crows.

I can tell from the way her eyes light up when she speaks of him that he’s her first choice of fasted partner for me. I humor her, doubting that this much-sought-after young man will spare even a glance toward a shy girl from Halfix. But it’s enjoyable to listen to her enthusiastic descriptions, nonetheless.

“Only three years out of University and already a first lieutenant,” she gushes brightly. “There’s talk that within a year’s time, Lukas Grey could be the youngest commander in the history of the Guard.”

My aunt prattles on for a long time about Lukas and several other young men. As she speaks, I glance out the window and watch the scenery go by. Gradually, the buildings of the towns we pass through are becoming taller, grander and closer together, and lanterns are lit to welcome the twilight. Our progress is now slowed by heavier carriage and horse traffic. We crest a hill, pass through a wooded area, and then, suddenly, it’s before us—a sloping valley leading straight to Valgard, Gardneria’s capital city.

Like an elegant cloak clasp, gleaming Valgard rings the Malthorin Bay. A glorious sunset lights the ocean beyond and bathes everything in the rich colors of a well-stoked fire. Tiny ships speckle the water. Valgard’s docks resemble the curved half of a long fishbone.

I can scarcely breathe as I take it all in, the city glittering in the fading light, points of illumination sprouting throughout, like fireflies waking. Our carriage weaves down into the valley, and before long, we’re in the heart of the capital.

I slide the carriage window open and stare.

Buildings made of luxurious, dark Ironwood rise up around me, the progressively wider upper stories supported by richly carved ebony columns. Curling emerald trellises thick with lush, flowering vines flow out over the rooftops and down the buildings’ sides.

I close my eyes and breathe in the rich Ironwood. It’s traditional for our homes to be made of this wood and styled in designs that look like forests and trees—a symbol of the Ancient One’s creation of my people from the seeds of the sacred Ironwood Tree, giving us dominion over all the trees and all the wilds.

We pass an open-air restaurant, dining tables spilling out onto a promenade surrounded by decorative fruit trees, all of it lit by diamond-paned lanterns. The smell of rich food wafts into the carriage—roasted lamb, sautéed fish, platters of herbed potatoes.

A small orchestra plays beneath a plum tree.

I turn to my aunt, thrilled by the beautiful music. I’ve never heard an orchestra before. “Is that the Valgard symphony?”

Aunt Vyvian laughs. “Heavens, no, Elloren. They’re employees of the restaurant.” She eyes me with amused speculation. “Would you like to hear the symphony while you’re here?”

“Oh, yes,” I breathe.

 

Like what you read so far? Buy the book here, and don’t forget to pre-order book two in The Black Witch Chronicles, The Iron Flower, on sale next month!

About Laurie Forest

Laurie Forest lives deep in the backwoods of Vermont where she sits in front of a wood stove drinking strong tea and dreaming up tales full of dryads, dragons and wands. THE BLACK WITCH (Out Now – Harlequin TEEN, Book One of The Black Witch Chronicles) is her first novel, and WANDFASTED (THE BLACK WITCH prequel, Out Now – Harlequin TEEN) is her first e-book novella. Coming in 2018 are THE IRON FLOWER (Sept. 2018 – Harlequin TEEN, Book Two of The Black Witch Chronicles) and LIGHT MAGE (Spring 2018 – Harlequin TEEN, e-book novella).

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