Shadow Witch by Isla Frost

Author:Isla Frost [Frost, Isla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JFP Press
Published: 2019-10-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

I was weak but upright by morning. I managed to eat some fresh berries and drink fennel ginger tea. Even more worth celebrating, I managed not to throw them up afterward.

I felt much less excited about weapons practice.

Poor faithful Ameline wasn’t looking a whole lot better than me. She’d stayed up most of the night, listening to me moan, pressing cool washcloths against my forehead and changing out buckets I’d vomited into.

Gus on the other hand, bathed in his favorite milk-and-honey concoction and with no ill effects from yesterday’s feats, was far too chipper.

I’ve had wielders who fought unceasing battle for seven days and seven nights and they pulled up with less drama than you did.

I wasn’t sure I could deal with his attitude this early in the morning.

“Yeah well, I’ve had blades that I kept far longer than seven days and seven nights without wanting to throw them in the river. What’s your point? Besides, how did that work if you didn’t let them kill anyone?”

That was before I’d embraced my religion.

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Or maybe everything just hurt.

We were walking to weapons practice, Bryn and Ameline once again flanking me. And I couldn’t help but compare Ameline’s bundle of fluffy and feathery cuteness to my own self-important companion.

“What do you talk about with Pig?” I asked.

He was sitting on her shoulder, cat claws digging into her uniform for grip and his scraggly wings lifting occasionally for either balance or imagined flight.

“I’m not calling him Pig,” Ameline reiterated for what must have been the dozenth time.

In truth, after seeing him guzzle down smoked fish at breakfast, I thought the name kind of suited him. But my loyalty lay with Ameline.

“Ah, sorry. Do you have any ideas for what you might name him?”

“Um…”

“How about Featherhead?” Bryn suggested. “Or Meow?”

Ameline huffed and scratched the tiny griffin’s neck. “Just ignore her. You deserve a dignified name.”

The hawkish eyes slitted with pleasure while the catlike tail swished.

After dubbing my sword “Gus,” I wasn’t sure I was any better at names than Bryn was, but Ameline seemed stuck on ideas, so I asked, “What about Griff? That’s a real name at least.”

Ameline chewed her lip. “I don’t know. Griff the pygmy griffin?”

“Better than Pig the pygmy griffin,” I pointed out.

Bryn shot us a mock glare. “Hey, that’s a matter of opinion, and I’ll thank you not to insult my personal preferences.”

Ameline sighed. “All right. Let’s go with Griff before Pig gets any more entrenched.”

The griffin ruffled his feathers in apparent agreement.

Bryn shrugged and trailed her fingers lovingly over her battle-axe. “At least I got to name my own weapon.”

“Oh?” I asked. “What have you called it?”

“Choppy.”

We were all smiling when we reached the lawn and spotted Cricklewood.

But mine faded as Klay’s angry gaze locked on me. My unwise display of my power yesterday had likely poured gasoline on his newfound hatred. And he was doubtless feeling fresh and perky. Could I protect myself from him when my legs were still wobbly?

A bunch of the other kids were stealing glances at me too.

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