Page 105 of Foresyth Conservatory
I licked my dry lips before answering. The only conversation worth recalling was with the Al-Ahmar, but I needed a cover story for why we’d spoken so long.
“The Al-Ahmar found my analysis intriguing. She suggested incorporating other types of deck and drawing comparisons,” I said, offering up my own idea as conversational fodder to distract him.
“It looked like you were having a very interesting conversation. I hope you take her suggestion,” he remarked. I clenched my jaw to keep from responding, then reached into my pocket and coated my lips with a thick layer of petroleum jelly.
“I just want to take this moment of reflection to share how very proud I am of you all. You’ve dedicated yourselves to this craft, and it shows. You’re bringing honor—and life itself—back to the House.” He paused, scanning the room. “Tonight, we have the ultimate privilege of honoring our Shattered Mother through the elemental ceremony.
“It’s dangerous, I won’t deny that—there’s no way to conduct soul flight without risking not coming back. But it’s our sacred duty to offer our mortal flesh to the Mother. If she deems us worthy, we may be blessed by her power, and we can restore the true glory of the House. Ms. Blackburne,” hesaid, turning to me, “this will be your first time participating in the ceremony as our newest Initiate.”
And my last.
“I’m honored to be a part of it,” I said, with a sweetness matching the flower-strung halls.
“You know that this ceremony has been largely symbolic in the past, without yielding results. But I believe tonight, we shall all feast on the fruit of our collective efforts.”
The Meister set the parcel on the table in front of him, which had been arranged as an altar with objects representing the four elements. The gleam of the athame caught my eye, and the memory of Aspen holding it to my throat surged back. I met his gaze, and he offered me a slight bow acknowledging the memory.
I hoped my calculations about everyone were right. Aspen had told me all the details of the ceremony, but performing it was an entirely different experience. What had once been parlor tricks in my bookstore would now be a matter of life and death.
“Everyone in the Circle has their role to play,” the Meister began, unwrapping layers of fabric to reveal the artifact within. The black box gleamed in the pale firelight, casting shades of orange and red across the room. “Nina, gather the ingredients. Sequoia, start the brew.”
“Yes, Meister,” they said, both moving to the altar to gather herbs into a small cauldron. Nina stoked the fire, ensuring it was hot enough to boil the mixture.
“Leone, you’ll handle the reading,” the Meister instructed. Leone moved to the altar, his face etched with lines of betrayal even in the dim light.
Sequoia made a show of each ingredient she added to the brew, pausing when she reached the nightshade. She looked up at the Meister, displaying the poisonous berries in her hand.
“Five berries, one for each of you,” he commanded. She nodded, dropping them into the cauldron one by one, murmuring a prayer over each. When she withdrew her hand after the fifth berry, a prick of blood marred her finger from a stray thorn.
Aspen knelt beside her, taking her hand and placing her bleeding finger in his mouth, absorbing the blood and a lick of the poison. My heart dropped as I watched them, the depth of their connection evident by the gesture. It wasn’t enough to dull his senses, but it could have been enough for Sequoia to feel its effects.
Two Trees entwined and ready to share everything, even poison.
I realized then that I would never be part of their world. A strange calm settled over me at the realization—I cared for them, yes, but I was not bound to them. I was untethered. And that was its own form of power.
I tore my eyes away from them and back to the altar. Once the potion was prepared, the ceremony proceeded exactly as described inThe Book of Skorn. Nina handed each of us a ceremonial glass. I held it in my hands, feeling its chill leech the warmth from my skin.
“I’ll explain the procedure, as our newest Initiate has yet to participate in the ceremony,” the Meister said. “As you know, the ceremony’s purpose is to transcend our material form and align with our Shattered Mother. In this state, we can tap into the Universal Truths as told bythe cards of Skorn. Those who comprehend these Truths gain enlightenment and powers akin to the Mother herself, enabling manipulation of the physical world, which is only an illusion. This is why we practice art at the Conservatory—to use the material world as a pathway to the metaphysical.”
Everyone arranged their cards in circles, starting with the Major Arcana, then the minor suits. I did the same.
“How will we know we’ve achieved it?” I asked, glancing up from the cards. “Soul flight, I mean.”
The Meister’s closed-mouth smile was chilling. He didn’t answer.
Nina glanced back at me, her eyes red and unreadable, as if on the verge of tears. Or had she already been crying? I gripped my cup harder, licking my lips.
The fire crackled in the background, Aspen tending the flames. I spared him another glance, but his gaze was lost in the fire.
The Meister turned to the box, whispering a few words as he unlocked it. The air grew heavy as he opened the case, and a low vibration hummed in my ears. I wondered if everyone else could hear it. He removed the Book and handed it to Leone, whose face transformed from stoic to a mixture of terror and awe. His throat bobbed as his fingers tightened around the Book, his fingers shaking.
This wasn’t good. I had felt the Book’s power when I held it, but it hadn’t overtaken me the way it was seizing Leone. Like it had overtaken my father. The Book fed on our emotions, and Leone was overcome with them.
I watched, transfixed, as Leone opened the Book.
“Page four hundred and thirty-two,” the Meister ordered.
But Leone wasn’t listening. He flipped through the pages as though any other book in the library.
