Читать книгу Wandfasted - Laurie Forest - Страница 8

Prologue

I’ve gotten used to the names they call us.

Crows. Roaches. Hedgewitches.

I no longer cry when I’m shoved in the market or spat on in the streets. I endure their mocking, hateful glares and the signs of protection they make against me to ward off my perceived evil.

I am Gardnerian.

As such, I’m barely tolerated here, stranded in a sea of Kelts, allowed to exist only because my aptitude for healing brews is considered useful in this tiny, remote village.

It would be easier, perhaps, if my appearance didn’t set me apart so much. My forest-green eyes and dark hair might seem unremarkable, but the black tunic and long skirt I wear, paired with a silver Erthia orb necklace, mark me as one of the First Children. And the way my skin shimmers a faint emerald in the dark—perhaps the most undeniable sign of all—makes it impossible for me to hide what I am.

A Gardnerian Mage.

Hated by all but my own people.

When they painted Heretics on our barn and set fire to it, I thought that was the worst it could get.

Until they sent the dragons.

But they didn’t count on us having dragons of our own. And they certainly didn’t count on Her.

Our Great Mage. The Bringer of Fire. The Storm of Death. The Crow Sorceress.

Our Deliverance.

The Black Witch.