“The Council issues a second strike against the half witch for false claims made against the Echelon Jaxan D’Oron,” she said. “AnLfor Libel will be branded on her forehead. The punishment will now be administered.”
Ydris closed his eyes in meditative focus, casting the brand from his seat on the Council’s bench. A rancid charcoal scent made my stomach pulse, the stench of burning hair mixed with a sour vinegar variety of iron signature. Trickles of blood and pus nested uncomfortably in my eyebrows as I listened to my flesh sizzle. It did not feel like a smallL.
I felt it starting at my hairline, stretching all the way down to the bridge of my nose.
Ydris’s eyes slowly lifted. “How is the pain?” he asked.
I felt nothing from the brand, aside from a slight tightness, similar to how skin gets pulled around a scab. But other than a slight headache from the iron, I was fine. “Manageable,” I answered. “Thank you for asking.”
“Half witch?” Aurora sneered down. “You may go now.”
I quickly fled the trial room and left the palace, keeping my eyes down to avoid catching my reflection in any gilded surfaces on the way out.
* * *
It was noon when I returned to Creatus, my head low as I walked through the academy in a rush to get to the second-year washroom to rinse my eyebrows.
At the sight of me, Vyra’s dramatic gasp sounded like an alarm I was sure the entire academy heard.
“That ishideous,” she said, her face twisting in disgust as she stood outside her door on the spiral.
“Thanks.” I couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
“I’ll tell everyone,” Vyra shouted after me. “So no one’s as shocked as I was when they get their first look.”
I gave her a thumbs-up.
* * *
An hour later, I went to lunch wearing a baseball cap. I grabbed a grilled cheese and took it to the first-year table to eat with Skye and Belinda. Around people was the last place I wanted to be, but Skye had been ignoring my messages all morning and I had questions. How did Leland fix my flu and how had she known he could fix it?
“July 24 — special day!” Belinda beamed. Her eyes, momentarily snagging on my branded forehead, darted to the seat next to her where Pepper was sitting.
I plunked down next to Skye, trying not to take offense when her nose crinkled at the smell of my brand, or when she shifted an inch left, her chair screeching.
“Hi,” I said, and rotated to face her. I took a bite of grilled cheese and stared her down, chewing. She slid left another inch.
Belinda was jabbering on about a birthday, rain, straightening her hair, and I’m not sure what else because my attention was trained on Skye, who was refusing to look at me.
I swallowed my bite. “Skye,” I said slowly. “What is wrong with me?”
“Many things,” she answered, and held up a finger. “For one, you smell like a morgue.” She held up a second finger. “Number two, you spend seventy-five percent of your time daydreaming about Gray Fallsdown. Three — ”
“I meant my flu.”
“You’re sick?” Belinda asked my chin. “Have you tried mint tea?”
I shook my head briskly. “What happened last night?” I said toSkye.
“You vomited on our rug. It was adorable.”
I took another spiteful bite.
“Not a fan of tea, then,” Belinda mumbled. “Noted.” Her smile looked deranged as her eyes roamed everywhere but my brand. “Is there anything else I can do to help you be ready for this evening?”
This evening?
I glanced sideways at Skye. I had no idea what this evening was. With an eyeroll, Skye pulled out her transmitter.
