Page 27 of Their Blood Rite

Cole leans in and says something to them all. Whatever he says has them lowering their heads and shuffling backwards, muttering their apologies.

I look at anything but the flames and notice the two steel bowls atop a pillar. One is filled with soil. The other with water. Beside them is a stone podium. A great book of ancient pages bound in ageless wood rests on it.

The Grimoire of the Earth Coven.

The many spells written inside of it may be spoken by any of us, but only the most powerful can use them. Can call the magic from its pages and master it.

One day, Cole will be able to read from the Grimoire, just as his father does now.

Prick.

I take to watching the sky. The moon is full, and on any other night, I would say it’s beautiful. But when the lower edge turns red, it soon becomes a disgusting sight.

We all gather around the fire. The males on one side. Us on the other. I can taste the different auras in the air. The males are vibrating with excitement and lust. We’re humming with stress and anxiety.

The chatter dies down. The air falls silent. The four coven leaders step forward, placing themselves in a neat line to our left. The one in blue is from the water coven. The one in silver is air. The old female in orange is fire. And the one in green is my coven leader.

Cole’s father. Girdon LeSaint.

‘Welcome,’ LeSaint declares, holding his arms wide to us all.

He looks much the same as his son, just older. The same eyes and features. He even stands the same way.

‘I welcome you all to the Blood Moon. It is such an honour to have you all here.’ His eyes linger on me momentarily, and I know that his welcome doesn't really include me.

Cole’s father withdraws a sheathed dagger from his pocket and holds it as if it could explode at any moment.

‘The moon blade,’ he says quietly, the words a wonderous whisper almost. He unsheathes it and holds it high for all to see. ‘This steel has pierced the flesh of every witch born in the last hundred years. Thousands of souls. Thousands of powerful witches. It has tasted them all.’

He raises his palm, showing us the scar left there by that very blade.

All the coven members follow his lead, raising their palms with pride.

‘When the moon is red,’ Cole’s father continues, looking up to the sky. To the moon now half crimson. ‘You shall each approach the flames, take the blade and add your life's blood. The flames will tell you what you are and open your connection to that power. Then, you will swear your union to that coven. You will be bound to them as soon as the words are spoken. Your magic will grow its power, and even in death, your body will decay in your coven’s hallowed ground, and your connection shall remain until all you are is dust.’

That’s the truth of it. Others use our body, soul and essence until we’re nothing. Even in death, we don’t rest. And once this rite is done, we will never be free of the coven we are rited to. If we run, they will find us. If the humans catch us, we will become bones in their arches.

I start praying to the gods that I’ll be a water witch. That I will be taken by them, away from my father. Away from Cole.

Sure, I’ll still be fair game tonight, but I’d be away from here after that. And Cole won’t have won. He couldn’t have me to keep. No matter what.

I’ve always liked the idea of the sea. I’m told it's like the streams in our forests but endless.

But that’s a dream. Or perhaps just a different nightmare. I have no idea what the other covens are like. What their rules are. It may be even worse. We’re not allowed to mix after therite. So, I have no idea. And besides, my father and mother were both earth. Chances are high I’ll be earth. But sometimes, just sometimes, we’re something else.

Magic is a funny thing.

‘Only together can we survive,’ Cole’s father continues. ‘Only as one can we harness the will of nature. From the earth.’ He bends down and presses the tips of his fingers into the soil. ‘From the air.’ He looks up to the sky and stands. ‘From the liquid of life. Water.’ He gestures to the bowl. ‘And fire.’

He approaches the podium where the great earth coven Grimoire rests. Its page is open, ready for the coven leader to read from it.

He looks at the flames and starts to read. The fire turns black and blue.

With a blink, he faces the males of the air coven and holds out the blade.

‘Your eldest male first. Then, through to the youngest. After that, the females.’

The first male steps forward and takes the blade.

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