Between the Shadow and the Soul
the nave and in the left wing, but they had a partial view of the altar and the priest standing in front of it. Nela sometimes wondered if the humans ever questioned the rule that witches had to sit separate from them, or if they were too scared of the Brotherhood to allow such thoughts to enter their minds.
    Nela curtsied and crossed herself before she plunked down on the hard wooden pew between her mother and father, wincing when her tender back touched the backrest. Later, when she was alone in her room at home, she would have to check her tattoo. The pipe organ sounded from the back of the church, a low, drawn-out sound like a moan. Her father was staring straight ahead, avoiding looking at her. The only sign that he was anxious was the way his fingers tugged at the cuff of his plaid jacket.
    Finally the organ quieted, the last notes dispersing in the long nave. The priest began his sermon. He wasn’t a priest of the Brotherhood. He was a real priest, but Nela knew High Master Claudius and the rest of the Brotherhood would be watching from their spots in the choir. Nela lowered her head and let his words about sin and evil wash over her. She’d heard the words too many times. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a small face glancing at her. Nela tilted her head, her gaze meeting that of the boy she’d healed in front of the cathedral. Please look away. Instead he raised his small hand and waved at her until his mother gripped his arm and put it down, her expression worried.
    She only had to worry about disturbing the sermon. Nela on the other hand…She didn’t want to think about it. Her father had become rigid beside her.
    Nela closed her eyes throughout the remaining service. When it was finally over, the humans were allowed to leave first while the witches had to wait in their pews until a guard gave them a sign, but eventually Nela and her family left the cathedral. Nela sucked in the crisp air, glad to be outside, away from the hateful sermons created by the Brotherhood. Her father hastened away from the cathedral and Nela and her mother had to jog to keep up with him. When they couldn’t be seen from the cathedral anymore, he stopped abruptly and whirled on her, his face masked with fury. “What did you think you were doing back there?”
    Nela froze, taken aback by her father’s anger. He was a dispassionate man and seeing him like that unsettled her. “I don’t know. I just wanted to help. I didn’t think.”
    “You didn’t think,” he repeated. “Yes, you didn’t think of the consequences for you and your family.” He kept his voice low. Even though they were speaking in English that didn’t protect them from being overheard. Most Germans learned English in school and would understand what they were saying.
    Her mother put a hand on his arm. “Felix, I think it’s enough. Nela didn’t mean for it to happen. She wanted to help a small boy.”
    “The Brotherhood won’t care. She broke the law and it will be obvious for everyone who sees her back. She acted foolishly and recklessly.”
    Nela pressed her lips together.
    “You won’t ever use magic again, understood?” her father growled. Ever since Nela had received her tattoo her father had become even sterner. He treated her as if she was a ticking time bomb. She didn’t understand why he was acting like that. Didn’t he ever want to work spells?
    “I’m a witch,” she whispered harshly. “Why has God made me a witch if he doesn’t want me to practice magic?”
    Her father looked around, but there was no one close by. He raked his hand through his dark brown hair – the only thing they had in common – before he spoke again. “You won’t talk like that. You’ll get us all in trouble. Stop being ridiculous. It’s blasphemous what you’re saying. We have to abide by the Brotherhood’s laws. Witches aren’t allowed to use magic.”
    Nela could feel magic tingling in her fingertips and her back burned fiercely. She wanted to

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