Page 130 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

“We have to hurry. The Aquila constellation is almost at its brightest point. It happens every fifty years. I’ve read about astronomers theorising what that phenomenon could be, but they’ve never discovered an explanation. From what I know, the curse is bound to the power of the stars in the Aquila constellation,” Anwir explained as our walk turned into a jog.

I looked up at the night sky, and if my life wasn’t at risk because of that light, I might have been mesmerised by the phenomenon of the stars.

I wish I could watch this with Archer.

“So the curse is only breakable when the stars shine brightest?” I asked, both fascinated and frightened as I looked over at Anwir.

We turned left, and the hedges of the maze began to separate slightly more.

“It’s a time span of eleven minutes before midnight, until the clock hits twelve, when the stars seem to almost explode with light.” He turned his gaze from the stars toward me. “It’s then that the curse has to be broken.”

My lips parted slightly. “During the eleven minutes.”

Just eleven minutes.

That’s basically nothing.

We suddenly came to a halt, the centre of the maze lying in front of us.

I felt my eyes widen at the stature that stood at the end of a stone altar, pointing a dagger to the heart of it.

The statue captured the beauty of an ethereal-looking woman in a mystical gown, star constellations chiseled all over her clothes. Her hair framed her innocent features in lucid curls, and a headpiece of an upside-down crescent moon lay upon her head. On her shoulder sat a bird—a quail, I believe.

“That’s beautiful,” Nathaniel said in awe.

“She is,” I agreed.

Anwir stepped closer to the statue, stroking his fingers over the woman’s cheek. “That’s Asteria. The goddess of fallen stars and nocturnal divisions. She was Hecate’s mother before Zeus chased her across the sky, forcing her to transform into a quail and flee into the sea, where she later became the island of Delos,” he explained, caressing the statue’s features. “Greek mythology is captivating, isn’t it? And it’s even more fascinating how your ancestors had their blessing and still craved more. They went as far as to betray a goddess by using the Aquila constellation, the constellation associated with the monster disguised as a hero—Zeus. They tried to strike a deal.”

I’ve never been much into mythology, but the sight of Asteria made me crave every tiny bit of knowledge there was about her. Her essence felt oddly dear to me.

“What deal?” Nathaniel asked, seemingly as captured by the story as I was.

Anwir drew his fingers to her collar and down her arm until he reached the hilt of the stone dagger. “To bless them all with power. Aquila Hall was supposed to be called Asteria Hall—a school for the cast-out ones, for the children of sorcery. Tragically, Malakai and Abigail’s dear friend, Hecate, refused to bless more bloodlines with the gift of the sight beyond death. Sorcery had its cost, and she couldn’t risk humanity selling their souls to the shadows for power. It would cause an imbalance. Hecate was so lonely for centuries until she heard their prayers. Taking human form, she befriended the seven. But her duties were calling her at the crossroads of death. She didn’t want to leave them behind. They had grown so dear to her. So, in the name of her mother Asteria, she blessed them with the power of the sight. While the seer’s abilities only grew, holding too much light for the power of darkness, the others saw death all aroundthem. They were now able to cross the veil even in life, visiting Hecate whenever they liked. Over time, they started to learn that these abilities came with so much more because Hecate gave them a piece of her soul. They were capable of all of her abilities—in a manner, of course, including sorcery.”

Anwir dropped to his knees on the earth ground. He started knocking on the foot of the statue where Asteria kneeled. “Stellae numquam volui vagari in terris,” he said, reading the Latin engraving. “I never wanted the stars to roam the earth.”

With a thumb, the side of the foot fell open, revealing a wooden box with a pentacle carved into the lid. Anwir clicked open the closure and opened the old box. Inside was a thick book bound in brown leather.

The Book of Shadows.

I gasped, falling down beside him to run my hand over the hardcover. I could practically feel the power beaming from within it.

“But Malakai saw the opportunity in this. What if there could be a whole other species besides the mundane? They had years of learning to live with their abilities ahead of them and were already able to use them for a better life. Money ruled the world, and it was so much easier to achieve it with the help of magic. He could teach them the ways of sorcery. It was all an image he created in his head as the power pushed him to near madness, because the human mind wasn’t made to wield such force.”

He lifted the book out of the box that had kept it safe until it was ready to be found again. To my surprise, he flipped it open to the title page, whereBook of Shadowswas beautifully written in cursive letters.

“And what deal were they trying to handle?” They were thirsty for power, but what would Zeus have from this? “I mean, a god surely wouldn’t grant anyone power out of kindness,” I joked lightly, but Anwir didn’t even budge a smile.

“No, he certainly wouldn’t. But we’ll never find out because, during this time, three hundred years ago, Hecate’s hounds sensed the betrayal of their mistress, and she returned to earth’s grounds once more. She caught Malakai performing a ritual underneath the Aquila constellation, calling on their connection with the god of thunder to make him hear them with his wife, Abigail’s, help. She grew furious, sensing her mistake in trusting the humans with a spark of what’s hers. They didn’t listen to her and even attempted to ally with a man she despised for being a hubris—Zeus. So wrongly portrayed in mythology and their retellings,” he told us the tale, and even though I knew we should probably hurry and leave this place with the book as fast as possible, it felt like his words made my feet grow roots that bound me to the ground until I knew everything about the story behind the Legacy of Aquila Hall.

“She cursed them out of spite,” Nathaniel concluded, sounding as if he were in a trance himself.

Anwir flipped the page to where all of our surnames were listed in black ink. The page that could only be unlocked by the signature of our blood.

“She did. Hecate loved them like her brothers and sisters, but her fury got the best of her that night. She star-crossed Malakai and Abigail, and for that, she will never love again. They won’t be able to love either. May their bloodlines be forever doomed to longing that will end in nothing greater than ruin. May the power she granted them feel like a curse and never more like a gift. But every curse needs a cure.”

“Because of the balance of good and evil,” I muttered to myself, but Anwir must have heard it because he nodded.

---