Page 60 of Foresyth Conservatory
The emblem in front of me glowed brighter, pulsing with every one of the Meister’s words. The crack inside me widened with every word, every pulse.
“I have been waiting a very long time,” he said, the Meister’s tone changing. He wasn’t speaking as the Head Meister of Foresyth in that steady cadence. No, his voice had a reverent fervor. A chill ran through me, expecting his next words. “For all the right elements to be here. And now they are.”
One of the hoods turned to me, and I spotted Nina’s eyes. She blinked slowly, as if to say,It’ll all be okay.But the knot in my stomach wouldn’t release. Had Julian gone through this? Had my father, when he was a student here? They undoubtedly had survived the Initiation, but both ended up dead sometime after it.
“I will now open the Circle to your peers, who will conduct the initiating rites,” the Meister said, falling back behind the Circle. Another figure stepped out. I could recognize the saunter a mile away, even shrouded. That lazy, bohemian saunter.
Aspen walked forward to the center of the Circle where an altar was arranged—a chalice, an athame, candle, and mound of earth. One thing caught my eye in particular. Undeniably, a deck of cards sat on the altar. Aspen picked up the athame and stepped toward me.
I steadied my breath.
His first reaction betrayed him. His eyes opened slightly in warning.But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. He tipped his hood back, an amused smile cresting his lips. He kneeled beside me with the athame still in his hand. All my muscles tensed, screaming for me to move, to run away. I leaned away from his reach, but he caught my arm with a stone grip.
“Get your hands off of me,” I tried to say with a snarl, but only a hoarse whisper escaped.
He leaned his mouth closer to my ear. “I won’t hurt you,” he said it so softly I thought I must have imagined it. Then he circled behind me, picking me up to my feet so quickly I pitched forward. Before I could steady myself, I felt the cold blade of the athame between my shoulder blades. It dug into my skin.
The Meister moved forward again, breaching the Circle to cover the distance, his cloak billowing behind him. He floated toward us.
“Trust is an essential part of the equation, Dahlia. Accepting you into this sacred Circle means that you accept a blade behind your back. And trust that it won’t pierce you.”
Aspen steadied his grip on my shoulder, angling the blade to its point. The tip was dull, but with enough force, it could break skin. He applied the faintest pressure, trailing the blade down my spine. The sensation sent a shiver through me, my breath becoming unsteady.
This man must be insane to think I would trust him.
I swiveled my wrist, pushing up with all the strength I had. The blade clattered to the floor, and I moved back to pick it up, but Aspen was quicker. He had it across my neck thenext second. A sharp pang shot across my wrist where Aspen was pinning me. An empty chuckle echoed against my back.
“You don’t have to listen to me, but you should listen toreason. The Meister needs you; if he wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here.” His grip softened on my wrists, and he traced apologetic circles with his thumb on the outside of my hand. But the hand holding the blade to my neck didn’t soften, didn’t give. I was pinned against his broad chest.
“Dahlia,” the Meister said, his tone endearing as if talking to a child, “you must accept the blade. It is the only way to be Initiated.”
I almost laughed. But I didn’t because it might have sliced my throat. How had it only been a month and change since the Meister had walked into my store? And now I found myself on my knees, with a blade to my neck.
I had been a fool to trust him, to let him hire me. His motivations were laced in something much more sinister. I simulated the options in front of me.
Any option that required force would wind up with me dead, that I was certain of. Denying the Initiation wasn’t an option either; if I was no longer a student at Foresyth, the Meister wouldn’t have any use for me. And now that I was getting closer to his uncovering his ploy, could I really believe that he would just let me walk out of here?
He was the most dangerous of them all.
No. The only way out wasthrough. Aspen was right. He wouldn’t kill me, not now. Julian had survived Initiation. I likely would too. But the most convincing piece of evidence, the one that almost made me relax, was the Al-Ahmar. She wanted answers, too. I saw it in her eyes. The Meisterwouldn’t betray her, not when she carried so much weight on the Council.
The Meister wouldn’t kill me. Not yet.
I braced against the weight of Aspen and nodded. He released the blade from my throat and trailed it behind me again.
“Say the words,” the Meister pressed, his eyes glowing green. The silence stretched on in the chamber so long I started to hear my pulse. At Aspen’s tug of my hand behind me, I finally found my words.
“I accept.” The words tasted like crumbling rust in my mouth. Or was that blood? I dipped my head down, bracing for the impact of the blade behind me.
Instead, they sliced through my restraints in one quick motion. I fell forward, catching myself on my aching wrists, wincing at the pain.
“There is liberation in surrender,” the Meister said, stepping forward and offering me a hand. I looked up to him, sending him the vilest look I could muster. “You’ll have to stand for the rest of the ceremony,” he said, looking down at my swollen ankle. Hatred bubbled up in my throat like acid.
The bastard.
I stumbled upward, placing the brunt of my weight on the right leg. I tried to keep from wincing.
He smiled, offering a hand. “Come,” he said. I eyed his hand for several seconds before taking it. Shame tangled in my throat, but I pushed it aside. Survival was paramount, ego came after. Ego came when I’d uncover his murderous secrets for all to see.
