Kingdom of Scourge and Shadow (The Sightstone Series #1)

Chapter Eighteen: Judith

"Once, every witch belonged to a coven, but the tradition has died out, and is now only kept alive on the battlefield. Our coven–the Allmother's coven–is small. There are but six of us. Myself, Josephine, Maeve, Nemain, Adelaide and the Allmother. The Lightbringer and her Heralds."

-from the Codices of Saint Caroline the Heretic

***

 Early the next morning, an hour before the day's first light broke above the trees, they reported to the main building to begin their training and to meet their training group. Night still lay heavy above the city, but they'd already been awake an hour. Judith couldn't stop yawning as the second bell of the day gave two mournful chimes.

For once, even Elizabeth was quiet as they hurried through the chill, pre-dawn mist from St. Rowenna's, across the courtyard, and into the dark, quiet halls of the main building. The silence was a relief, after a fitful night had left Judith with a splitting headache and unshakeable fatigue that not even numerous cups of tea had made a dent in.

She trailed after Elizabeth as the other girl led the way down the maze-like corridors and up a flight of stairs, glad that she knew where she was going. Judith was too tired to figure it out on her own, and, judging by the stifled yawns and heavy silence coming from Grace and Rani, they felt the same.

Soon enough, they reached an unremarkable door labeled with silver numbers, like every other door around them. Elizabeth pushed the door open, and a soft hum of conversation spread out into the hall. Judith slipped through the door behind Elizabeth, Grace on her heels, and emerged into a common room of some sort, with sofas and armchairs scattered around low tables, stuffed bookshelves lining the walls, and a fireplace on the far wall with a cheerful fire crackling in its hearth. Like everything else at the Sanctuary, it was so at odds with what Judith had expected from a military base.

The chairs and sofas were already crowded with other girls, most wearing robes in a riot of colors, but a small handful in only their jackets. As Judith and Grace entered, their conversations fizzled and died, and silence stretched as they stared at the black embroidery on Judith's blue robe, and the white robe that Grace had chosen to wear that day.

Then, whispers and gasps erupted, swelling into awed speculation as they didn't even try to hide their stares. Some girls even pointed, and Judith shrank back into Elizabeth's shadow, grateful that she'd opted not to wear the black robe General Stark had given her. It was bad enough being stared at, ogled like an animal in a zoo. She didn't think she could bear to be even further set apart from them.

But Grace, brilliant and lovely in her white robe, didn't seem to mind the stares and whispers. Regal as a queen, she swept over to one of the few empty sofas and sank onto the cushions. Elizabeth joined her, and Rani claimed a nearby armchair, leaving Judith to take the spot next to Elizabeth. She stifled a grimace. It was too early to play nice.

Still, under the scrutiny of so many gazes, she didn't want to start speculation and rumors, so, gingerly, she curled into the spot next to Elizabeth, feeling the weight of the other girls' speculation like a vice that was slowly crushing her.

"So," Rani said dryly. "I guess this is our training cadre." She didn't sound impressed.

"No one calls it that," Elizabeth said self-importantly. "We call it a coven."

Judith resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Just then, the door burst open, and Judith flinched at the sudden noise. Everyone whirled as Sergeant Burns strode into the room, her back ramrod straight, her steps measured and firm. People seemed to come to attention as she reached the front of the room, stopping in front of the hearth, and turned, with military precision, to face them.