Page 59 of Foresyth Conservatory
They were all connected. My father had hidden so much from me, and now I was caught in the same web of secrets. Anger was replacing shock, rising like smoke in my chest.
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head, but the questions kept coming, each one more terrifying than the last. Who could I trust now? Definitely not the Meister, who was at the core of this betrayal. Aspen, who had always seemed one step ahead of me? Sequoia, who was tied so deeply into this magick that she’d nearly drowned in it?
Or could I trust none of them?
I had to find the truth. I had to finish what Julian started. The threats that loomed over Foresyth weren’t just shadows of the past—they were real, living forces. And now, they were threatening to swallow me whole.
A branch snapped in the distance. I twisted my head behind me in the direction. Someone was here. Had someone been following me? My breath hitched.
I stood, dumping Julian’s journal and the gloves back into my satchel and getting to my feet. I had to go quickly. If Julian’s words were true, someone here didn’t want me to find out the truth. I ran back down the thicket of woods, my eyes scanning for the white-marked oak.
Another branch snapped. Closer this time. I stumbled forward, heart hammering, searching for the white-marked oak—there. The string, my lifeline, should be here. I reached for it, fingers grasping at nothing but air.
The tree was bare. The string was gone.
My heart rate quickened. I burst into a run, tracing my steps as best as I could. I pushed away branches caught inmy hair and jumped over fallen logs. But my bag caught in one of the branches and then the world tilted on its axis. I landed on my knees.
My senses reeled, my heart thundered against my ribs, and a metallic taste flooded my mouth. I tried to move, to scramble back to my feet, but something heavy pressed down on me, pinning me to the earth with an unyielding force.
Panic surged, each beat of my heart echoing in the silence of the forest. With a desperate gasp, I strained against the weight that held me captive, my muscles burning with exertion.
Then, as suddenly as it had descended, the darkness lifted.
A blinding light seared through the veil of shadows, and I squinted against its brilliance, disoriented and dazed. I glimpsed the silhouette of a figure looming over me, their presence ominous against the backdrop of screeching galls above. And then, a sharp blow struck my head, sending shards of pain ricocheting through my skull. Stars exploded behind my eyelids, and my consciousness slipped away like sand through my fingers.
Chapter 20: Trust Exercise
I blinked my eyes open, forcing them to focus on one point out in space. A mural floated in front of me, symbols shimmering in a sigil: the silhouette of a drooping rose, bound in a red circle. The smell of upturned soil filled my nostrils as I steadied my breath, trying to regain my senses. As my vision cleared, fear ripened deep in my gut.
My arms were bound behind my back, and I must have twisted my ankle in the woods because it ached in the unnatural position I was sitting in. I tried to adjust my legs from under me, letting out a hoarse cry from the pain shooting up my calf.
That’s when I noticed the five cloaked figures seated around me in a circle. They raised their heads in unison and turned to me. It was too dark to make out their faces, but I knew who they were.
“Ms. Dahlia Blackburne,” said the shrouded figure across from me. “Welcome to your Initiation.”
My heart dropped. All I could think of were Julian’s last words, penned in blood, warning me about the rites at Foresyth. Warning me about theMeister. Now I found myself shackled and at his feet.
Julian. I shot my eyes frantically around, searching for my bag. His journal, his confession. Where were they?
I caught a glimpse of the waxed leather of my satchel in the far corner of the room. As if the Meister noticed this, he stepped forward from the circle, catching my eyes and not releasing them.
“Foresyth is not just an academic institution, it is also a guild of magick practitioners. We embody our motto, integrity of the word, activation of the mind, transcendence of the soul. We enrich the academic community by safeguarding secrets long buried away and raise these powerful ideas up to consciousness. We devote ourselves, and our minds, to understanding the original sources—until the knowledge becomes core to our being.” The Meister circled the rest of us as he spoke. “And now comes the time to welcome you to the final promise. True magick is born through transcendence.”
Transcendence. The word echoed in my mind, tasting coarse and acrid. What exactly had been sacrificed to keep true to that promise?
“Over the past several weeks you have been welcomed to Foresyth Conservatory as a scholar,” the Meister continued. “You might have realized you were being studied. Tested. Not every new scholar makes it up to this point unless they’ve demonstrated a certain magickal aptitude. The Council was part of that test, and you passed.”
I swallowed hard, watching the Meister’s footsteps trace in front of me. I hadn’t doubted that I was being watched at Foresyth, or that I was being tested. But what had him thinking I had any sort of magickal aptitude?
What I had witnessed at Foresyth was inexplicable, but that didn’t mean I believed it was magick. There had to be another explanation. I had held the sacredness of logic and reason close to my chest for as long as I could remember. Trained practically to it by my father. But there was a clear fission crackling in me that I couldn’t deny.
Nina’s blood.
Julian’s journal.
My father.
“You came to Foresyth as a scholar, and now today, you join its guild as a practitioner.”
