Page 61 of Foresyth Conservatory
I staggered behind his wispy movements to the altar where the athame had been replaced, a quiet Aspen back in the formation of the Circle.
“And now, the offerings,” he said. My breath caught with an objection on my lips but died there.
The first to step forward was Leone. He wheeled himself to the center of the Circle, where I stood. His eyes narrowed to study me, as if discerning my worthiness.
It was a long moment before he spoke, but when he did, my heart could have stopped.
“Blood of my blood, bound by the Shattered Mother, I accept Dahlia Blackburne into this sacred covenant,” Leone said picking up the chalice—evidently full of liquid—and blew a breath into it. He sat it down just as soft as he raised it and looked directly at me. He closed his eyes slowly, solemnly. I returned the gesture, a tingle of pride threatening in my traitorous chest.
Whatwasthat?
I wasn’t used to feeling accepted. Not that I cared so much about it, given that everyone around me in Greenwich was barely worth my time, even if they were paying for it. But Leone—he was as close to a real scholar as I had ever known. His intelligence shone from his eyes, if not from his lack of interest in anything outside of his books. As much as I wanted to deny it, being accepted by him feltgood. It felt validating.
Leone retreated back to his place in the Circle and Aspen mirrored his motion, breaking out of the Circle.
“Missed me already?” he said with a smile that showed his teeth. I scowled. He laughed quietly, his gaze drifting to his index finger and thumb. I didn’t see how he lit a flamebetween his fingertips, but it glowed and cast his features in orange and yellow hues. He lifted the flame to the chalice and slowly extinguished it in the cup.
“Blood of my blood, bound by the Shattered Mother, I accept Dahlia Blackburne into this sacred covenant,” Aspen said, pausing at my name.
Sequoia followed after him. As she approached the altar, I noticed her eyes were glistening.
“I’m sorry,”she mouthed silently.
I furrowed my brows. What part about this exactly was she sorry about? Lying to me, or having me beaten and kidnapped into this underground chamber?
I guess it didn’t matter.
A single tear streamed down the curve of her cheek, and she caught it with her fingertips. She held it out over the chalice and flipped her finger over it. The teardrop collected into a perfect shape before splashing into the chalice.
“Blood of my blood, bound by the Shattered Mother, I accept Dahlia Blackburne into this sacred covenant,” Sequoia said, barely an audible whisper. Her throat bobbed and I thought she would burst into tears at any second. But she took a deep breath and lifted her chin and nodded to me. And then she stepped down.
The last was Nina. She walked solemnly to the altar, any remnant of her usual sardonic disposition and biting humor replaced by a quiet reverence. She picked up the edges of the too-long cloak catching in her steps as she approached me. Her hood almost swallowed her face whole, but her black eyes shone bright like the moon.
She took out a single pebble from her cloak and let it drop into the chalice, giving me a wink. “Blood of my blood,bound by the Shattered Mother, I accept Dahlia Blackburne into this sacred covenant.”
The words reverberated through my bones.Accept. Had I ever been accepted before? The feeling was strange, paradoxical almost, to be accepted by one’s enemies. It felt too real, too raw, despite all the secrets. I cursed my gullible heart.
Perhaps I had read about a similar ceremony, or perhaps the fact lived in my subconscious, but I knew what to do next. I took the chalice in between my hands, tipping the rim to my lips and took a long, deep gulp. Warmth spread across my neck and chest as the concoction took effect. Everyone began to chant, and I somehow found the words and we were all chanting in unison. A deck of Skorn was placed in my hands and we all held it up to our foreheads, chanting in the sacred tongue. It wasn’t any language I recognized, at least on a conscious level, but it felt natural—as if I had been speaking it for years.
I tried to fight it at first, but then a rush of warmth washed over me. The elixir was kicking in. All of the worry, the pain, the fear, slipped right off. I was everything and nothing at once.
The imprint of where the cards were on my forehead burned, but I didn’t release my grip on them. They pulsed in my hands, pinning them there. The heat was rising, my neck slick with my perspiration. But I didn’t let them go. An undeniable surge of power coursed my veins, and my entire body felt like it was pulsing.
I was accepted; I was one of them. It sickened and delighted me at the same time.
It was then I heard her name, her voice. She whispered it into my ear.
“Dahlia Blackburne—you all pray to a false God.”her voice gurgling as if she was under water.
Sophia.
I heard her, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. My grip loosened, but I didn’t let go of the cards. They must have slipped from my hands as my vision became dark. The last thing I heard were the cards falling to the floor like a thousand claps of wings—like birds somewhere in the distance preparing for flight.
Chapter 21: A Promise
The next few days were a haze. My head throbbed like it was about to burst, and my ankle was swollen almost as large as a grapefruit. I stayed in bed for the majority of the time, save for when Nina would bring around meals. Sequoia would try to come in as well, but I never let her in. Instead, I watched outside of my window as the migratory birds drifted back from winter, embracing the rising warmth of spring. I watched them for a long time, studying their patterns in the bright blue sky.
When no one was around, I’d reach for the bag that I kept tucked away under my bed. It had been returned to me after the Initiation. Luckily, the journal was still intact, Julian’s words stained in bright red. There were coordinates at the bottom of the page that I hadn’t noticed the day at the Tramping Grounds. I traced the numbers with my fingertips so many times, I had memorized them by heart.
