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His eyes flew toward the guards but they were busy ushering the crowd inside. When he returned his gaze to the girl, she was surrounded by her parents. Her father looked like he was seconds away from exploding. Darko got it. The girl had risked a lot by practicing magic with the Brotherhood around, especially for something as ridiculous as a few small cuts. The boy would have survived, but if the guards had watched the girl healing him…
    Finally the last few witches, including the girl and her parents, disappeared inside the Cologne Cathedral, and the bell stopped ringing. The guards closed the side door.
    Darko was pleasantly surprised that the girl could practice healing magic, even though she probably didn’t get the chance to work spells very often. Of course that didn’t mean she was a Necromancer. But now that he knew she wasn’t opposed to breaking rules, his job to get close to her would be so much easier. At least she wasn’t a disgusting lapdog of the Brotherhood.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
     
    T error held Nela in a crushing grip. What had she done? She handed the boy over to his parents, her fingers shaking. They thanked Nela, smiled at her, but Nela couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Her eyes kept darting to the now unblemished palms of the young boy. Maybe he was too young to realize what she’d done. She didn’t dare look in the direction of the guards to find out if they’d noticed her crime. She cringed to think what they’d do to her. The family of the boy headed toward the entrance, leaving Nela alone with her terror.
    She straightened and a hand clamped down on her upper arm. Her father’s angry face came into focus. He didn’t say anything, but Nela knew he’d witnessed what she’d done. She didn’t know if she was supposed to apologize or if it would make things only worse, and looked at her mother for help. But she didn’t find the consolation she’d hoped for; there was worry and fear on her mother’s face. Nela’s back, where the tattoo was, burnt fiercely as if someone was dragging a hot poker over her skin. She had to bite down on the inner side of her mouth to keep her face neutral.
    Her father’s grip didn’t loosen as they approached the guards framing the small side entrance of the cathedral. From the corner of her eye, Nela could see humans enter through the wide double doors, but witches weren’t allowed to use the main entrance. Her father squeezed her arm, though Nela had been sure he couldn’t possibly tighten his hold on her. She glanced up at his carefully masked expression. The fury had disappeared behind a careful layer of deference, but Nela knew it was still there. She’d been foolish and he wouldn’t let her get away with it. Her mother gave her a gentle smile but it didn’t make Nela feel better. With every step, a new wave of pain zig-zaged through her back. Had her tattoo spread yet? Maybe one act of magic wouldn’t make a difference.
    Fear seethed in the pit of her stomach but she straightened her shoulders and kept her expression calm when it was her family’s turn to stand before the guards. The men scanned them from head to toe. Nela wasn’t sure why they did it, except to make them feel small and impure. The eyes of the younger man rested on her chest for much longer than necessary but to suggest such a thing, to accuse him of any kind of interest in her, a witch , would have got her in tremendous trouble. Nobody would believe her. After all, a member of the Brotherhood would never sink as low as to consider getting close to a witch.
    When Nela was sure she couldn’t take it anymore and that she’d spit into the face of the younger guard, the head guard gave a tiny nod. Her father dragged her into the gloomy inside of the cathedral. They followed the narrow alley toward the pews on the right, which were separated from the pews in the middle by a plain wooden jube. That way witches couldn’t see the humans who occupied the pews in