Between the Shadow and the Soul by Susanne Winnacker Read Free Book Online

do magic, now more than ever.
    “You sound like High-Master Claudius. I’m so sick of you acting like you aren’t a wizard.” Nela turned around and ran away. She would lose it if she had to keep looking at her father. She hurried into one of the smaller alleys and then into another until she was certain she’d lost her parents. Then she leaned against the wall, suddenly glad for the pain in her back since it helped her focus on something else than her fury and the magic crawling under her skin.
    ***
    Darko pressed against the wall as he watched the fight between the girl and her parents. A smile twisted his lips. If the girl were closer to her parents, his mission would be more difficult. Suddenly the girl whirled around and stomped off. Tiny sparks of magic flickered between her fingers. If she didn’t learn to control her magic, she’d get herself killed before he could get his hands on her. He cursed and hurried after her. He could hear the voices of the girl’s parents rise in anger but when he turned the next corner their words died down. He could see the girl turn another corner and he sped up to catch up with her. He rushed around the next corner, the thrill of the chase quickening his pulse, and stumbled to a halt. The girl was leaning against a wall in the alley, staring down at the cross hanging around her neck, clutched in her fingers. Fingers that were still sparking with magic.
     Darko despised witches who wore the cross to please the Brotherhood. Did it even mean anything to her? A long time ago he’d believed in something; that was before the villagers of his hometown had burned a cross into his chest. It didn’t hurt when he practiced magic. Actually it didn’t hurt at all anymore, but it was there on his chest. It was the only cross he’d ever wear again. He could have removed it with magic, but he needed it as a reminder and warning of what humans were capable of. Not that he was in danger of forgetting it. Nobody could forget, much less forgive, what had been done to him and his family. Behind his eyes, he could see the image of the branding iron in the shape of the cross, glowing a deep orange. He could remember his crippling fear when the burning iron had been only inches from his chest. He’d struggled but three men had held him down. He’d pleaded and screamed but they had chanted, their eyes feverish with their beliefs. He had been less than human to them, an evil that needed to be purged. He remembered the smell of burnt flesh when the searing cross was pressed against his skin. He remembered the agony and his high-pitched screams, and then he remembered nothing as his body had surrendered to blissful unconsciousness. But they hadn’t allowed him even this small reprieve. They’d woken him with cold water to his face, so he could watch as they ripped open the blouse of his little sister, only eleven years old. She’d pleaded Darko to help her and he’d wanted to. He’d tried but his magic, magic he’d never used in a bad way before that day, had been paralyzed by his fear. He was helpless and useless. He had to look into his sister’s terrified eyes as they burnt their cross into her stomach. And her screams, they still haunted him every night. He pushed the memories away. There was nothing but pain associated with them. Whatever the cross meant to others, whatever it meant to the girl, for him it had a different meaning and always would.
    But he had to gain the girl’s trust and couldn’t let his hatred get the better of him. He already knew how to attract her interest. She wanted to learn magic, he was sure of it. Why else would her magic be so close to the surface that it actually flickered between her fingers? He’d just have to figure out a way to approach her. The hairs at the back of Darko’s neck rose and he tensed, looking around for a sign of danger, only to find her eyes directed at him.
    ***
    Nela caught movement to her right and quickly dropped her cross, turning