Volinette's Song by Martin Hengst Read Free Book Online Page A

something special, but I think you’re just a murdering piece of filth , and I’ll make sure you pay.”
    Volinette’s eyes snapped open and she saw Janessa standing at the foot of the bed. Her face was flushed, her eyes squeezed into narrow slits that never wavered from Volinette’s gaze. Janessa’s arms were straight down to her sides, her hands balled in fists so tight that it was easy to see the whiteness of the knuckles where the skin was drawn taut across them. Her hair was free of its topknot, dirty and tangled. The cut sapphires of her eyes were dark now, deep blue shards of ice that bore into Volinette.
    “I…I mean,” Volinette sta mmered. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t—”
    “You could have saved her,” Janessa spat, her lips curled in a snarl. “You could have, but you didn’t. You saved yourself , and now Tenika is dead!”
    Janessa’s voice had risen from a threatening whisper to a harsh cry that seemed to explode from her chest like a startled crow. Volinette pressed herself backward into the pillows. Janessa stepped around the foot of the bed, approaching Volinette with malice glittering in her icy blue eyes. Volinette tried to scream but all that came out was a raspy squawk. Janessa was almost on top of her when the curtain was yanked back and a figure appeared in the opening.
    Fulgent Casto stood in the doorway, his black eyes burning with an intensity Volinette could feel from several feet away. His mousy appearance had been transformed by the palpable power that was oozing off him in waves. The Quintessentialist now looked less like a mouse and more like a mean street rat out for blood. His bushy eyebrows were drawn together over his eyes, which darted back and forth between Janessa and Volinette. In that moment, Volinette was sure that the mage hadn’t missed a single detail in the scene that was unraveling before him.
    “Apprentice Janessa,” he said, his voice sharp. “You were told not to leave your cubicle. You’ll return there at once.”
    The girl whirled on him, her hair standing out from her head like an aura. Her eyes had taken on an intensity that matched his. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a malevolent hiss. Power sprang up around her, pushing back at the force that had entered the room with Fulgent.
    “Who are you to tell me what to do, Fulgent? Do you know who I am? Who my parents are?”
    Janessa raised her hand as if to strike the mage, and there was a flash of crimson light so bright that Volinette had to shield her eyes with her hands. She heard Janessa’s cry of pain and a loud clatter as the girl was thrown into the stand that held the pitcher and basin. The pitcher rocked free and crashed to the floor, shattering in a hundred pieces and spraying water everywhere.
    When Volinette dared look again, Fulgent was standing over the fallen apprentice, his long forefinger outstretched and pointed in her face.
    “I do, indeed, know who you are, Apprentice. Your parents would have done well to raise you knowing better than to raise your hand to an elder. I believe I’ve filled the gap in their education. However, if you’re particularly stubborn, or stupid, I will be happy to provide another demonstration if necessary.”
    “No, thank you,” Janessa grunted, scrambling to her feet. She shot a last dagger-laden look at Volinette before turning toward the open curtain. “If you’ll excuse me, Master Casto.”
    The simpering familiarity in Janessa’s tone turned what should have been an honorable title into something just shy of an insult. She slid sideways past the Quintessentialist and disappeared down the corridor beyond. Before Volinette could say anything, Qadira appeared with a laden dinner tray.
    “And what happened here?” Qadira asked. With one hand, she slid the tray across Volinette’s legs. With the other, she tucked another pillow down behind her, propping her up sufficiently to eat.
    “Nothing I couldn’t handle, Qadira.” Fulgent waved