Gift of Darkness by C.L. Carhart

Author:C.L. Carhart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: coming of age fantasy romance, elemental magic, fantasy romance, ff, forbidden love, friends to lovers, lesbian, lgbt, new adult paranormal romance, paranormal romance, romance steamy, sapphic, witches
ISBN: 9781954807228
Publisher: C.L. Carhart
Published: 2023-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen:

Amira

Zehra greeted my hostess in a mixture of standard German and dialect, her stance projecting a confidence I envied. This was the witch Lady Ilsa believed could give me pointers on how to survive a blood-transfer? The Leitalra of Erlangen? I had never met a Leitalra of a Teuton city before. Though she looked close to my age, disbelief stole my breath away.

The Lady of a Teuton city, consort of a Keyholder. And she had brown eyes. Teutons never had brown eyes unless they were of non-magical lineage. Zehra was like me. And she held the highest female position of authority over the Teutons in Erlangen.

Ingeborg welcomed Zehra in Bavarian dialect, and confusion crossed the young witch’s face as she favored me with a smile. I ordered myself to break free from my surprise. I would have to take control of the situation since my hostess and Zehra spoke different dialects. After brushing my hands off on my shorts, I stepped forward.

“Hi, I’m Amira. I’m guessing you know Lady Ilsa?” My thoughts shifted easily from dialect to German, which I used often enough with tourists at Kramhof.

“I do. This is the first time I’ve ever visited her hometown. I’ll admit, it’s not my usual stomping grounds.” Zehra glanced out the front window toward the farmland, having switched to German, herself. “Do you mind if we walk outside while we get to know each other? My Truhtein and I will be here for only a couple days, so I’d like to see as much of the landscape as possible.”

“That would be great! It’s a beautiful day.” Turning to Ingeborg, whose gray eyes shone with delight at our natural camaraderie, I assured her we would be back for lunch. Then I reopened the front door and beckoned Zehra to join me.

Jürgen sat in his usual spot on the porch with a can of beer beside him, his wrinkled hands whittling a fist-sized block of wood. “Don’t annoy the earthen imp,” he advised us in dialect, his clouded eyes passing over us both. As we descended the steps, Zehra donned a pair of sunglasses, gazing at the peaks along the horizon.

“We won’t,” I called to Jürgen, switching back to German as I regarded the woman beside me. “Is your magic earth-related?”

“Stone. But I have no intentions of causing an earthquake, despite what the Old One thinks of me.” Zehra stuck a finger into the pocket of her capris, and we turned for the path toward the distant hill. I counted eight Atzinger goats cropping the hillside’s grass.

“Jürgen can’t invoke his earth magic,” I noted, surprised she had referred to him with a term generally reserved for elder Teuton priests, especially those on a city’s council.

“Judging by the success of his farm, I doubt that’s held him back. There’s no reason to look down on Teutonic people when full-blooded Teutons are few and far between.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” A blush warmed my cheeks at the Leitalra’s reproachful tone. “I just didn’t know if you .

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