Corvina's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The next morning the guest list arrived on Corvina's writing desk. She unrolled the parchment and read a hundred strange names. Lords, princes, counts from lands she had never seen. She knew none of them. She did not know what they wanted, or which ones came to court her power instead of her heart. The names blurred together. She set the list down and went to find her mother. Morgana stood in the practice hall, sleeves pushed back. Her black raven perched on a stone ledge, watching with a sharp eye. "You look like the list frightened you," Morgana said. She did not glance up from the candle she was lighting. "I don't know these men," Corvina said. "I can't choose a stranger. I can't even read what they're planning." Morgana finally looked at her. "Then stop reading paper. Paper lies." She snapped her fingers and the candle flared. "You have my gifts. Use them. A witch does not walk blind into a room full of wolves." They practiced until noon. Corvina bent flame between her palms. She calmed her mother's raven with a whispered word and felt its small, quick thoughts. Each spell sharpened her focus. But the list still waited, and she still felt helpless before it. "There is one thing you have never done," Morgana said. She wiped soot from her fingers. "Every witch is owed a familiar. A creature bound to her, loyal to her alone. Mine sees what I cannot." The raven ruffled its feathers, as if it understood. "A familiar will be your eyes at the ball. It will watch the lords when you cannot. It is your right. It is time you claimed it." Corvina's chest tightened. "How?" "You call. You do not choose. The creature chooses you." Morgana drew a circle on the stone floor with white chalk. "Kneel inside. Speak your name. Open your mind the way you open it to beasts. Then wait." Corvina knelt. The chalk was cold under her knees. She closed her eyes and reached out, past the walls, into the dark garden beyond. "I am Corvina," she said. "Come to me." The air grew heavy. A wind moved through the hall though no window was open. Morgana's raven went still. Corvina held her breath and pushed her mind outward, calling, waiting. Something answered. A soft padding on stone. Corvina opened her eyes. A black fox stood at the edge of the circle. Its coat was dark as pitch, its eyes bright gold. It crossed the chalk line without fear and pressed its head to her hand. She felt its mind touch hers, calm and clever and sharp. "There," Morgana breathed. "It chose you." Corvina rose with the fox at her heel. She looked at the guest list again. It no longer frightened her. She had her spy now. At the ball, this small dark shadow would slip between the lords and learn every secret they hid.