“I’ll see you up there.” Mike kissed Emily on the cheek, then disappeared too.
“Nervous?” Emily sat beside me.
“A little. How’s David?” I asked.
She looked over my shoulder at Morgaine, then smiled back at me. “Actually, he’s a mess.”
“A mess?”
“Yeah. He’s like a mopey teenager. He’s fine when he’s focusing on work, but he hasn’t got a lead on your family history or word on what’s happening in La Château de la—lysium,” she corrected, laughing once. “He’s miserable.”
“Hence the pizza.” I smiled to myself. “If he starts eating ice-cream, we know things are serious,” I joked, but Emily bit her lip. “Oh, Em, don’t tell me he’s that miserable.”
“He just misses you. He hates being away, and he hates that he can’t be here tonight to see you take your oath.”
I swallowed. “I hate it, too. But I’ll bet you’re happy you’ll be here for the knighting ceremony?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It was hard choosing between my mom’s fiftieth or seeing my fiancé become a knight. Now, I don’t have to.”
“Do you think that’s why he was so insistent we move the ceremony?”
Emily shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’m sure it was,” Morgaine said. “Then again, he is pretty anxious to get in there and kick some evil Blood King butt.”
“Yeah” I laughed. “Maybe I should be letting them go without me. I mean, it’s better for the people, right?”
“And what if the Upper House is right, Ara?” Emily said. “What if they do need you there to kill Drake?”
I nodded. “That’s the only reason I didn’t pipe up and say something.”
Morgaine took my other hand and pulled me to stand. “Well, none of that matters, right now. We need to go dress you for your big night.”
“Okay.”
“And, Em?” Morg looked back at her as we reached the stairs.
“Yeah?”
“Come by and give Amara some blood in about an hour, okay?”
“Really? I thought she wasn’t allowed to eat today.”
Morg smiled. “No one said she couldn’t have a little blood to get her through.”
“Rule breaker,” I said. She just shrugged.
* * *
“Now remember, there are strict rules to adhere to—formalities that you must not corrupt,” Morgaine said sternly. “No smiling, waving, say nothing except your oath, show no emotion, no pain, no joy, no fear—”
“I know,” I moaned. “You’ve only told me fifty times, Morg.”
“Right. And remember, when you reach the edge of the forest after the Walk of Faith, you must smile.”
“Yes, Miss.” I saluted, smiling at her through the reflection of my dresser mirror.
“I’m sorry, Amara. I don’t mean to be hard on you, it’s just… we have these rules for a reason. Royalty is something highly valued among our people.” She sat down on my bed. “In the world you grew up in, Princess, no one cares about formalities anymore. But we still do. You must adhere to our traditions.”
“I will, Morg.” I rubbed my temples, leaning on my elbows. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know,” she said in a soft, high tone, then stood up. “Now, let’s go over this one more time: you carry the dagger to the Stone and use it to make the first cut along your mouth.”
I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. “Right. The blood of the lips to bind my words to truth.”
“And…?” she prompted.
I spread my fingers and showed an open palm. “Blood of the hand to hold the promise.”
“And blood of the heart,” she said. “A pledge to rule with that which guides the soul.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, imagining it. “How am I going to stay alive if I have to jab a dagger into my heart?”
She scratched her nose. “Just don’t dig too deep. It only has to be from the place surrounding the heart, Amara, you don’t actually have to stab your own heart. It’s symbolic more than anything.”
“And what if I do?”
“Then you fall to the floor and we do the coronation on the next full moon.” Morg looked at my face in the reflection then turned around and grabbed her purple velvet cloak from the bed. “Here.” She ripped off one of the wooden toggles. “Just bite down hard on this, it’ll help.”
“Right.” I studied it. “A pop-stick’s going to ease the agony of cutting myself open and splashing my blood on a piece of rock.”
“I said it would help.”
“Yeah, help me not bite my tongue off.”
“There now, that’s looking on the bright side.” She patted my arm.
I glared up at her, unamused.
“Could be worse.” She shrugged. “You could have to make the oath naked, like Lilith did.”
I shuddered, then smiled down at the small scar on my wrist: the one Jason left when he attacked me. It was minuscule now, barely a sliver of a memory, but still there and still visible in the light. It made me feel connected to him. “The tatt… er markings, they fade, right? Like, you’re not lying about that part, are you?”
“No. When the crown is set atop your head, the ritual is over, and they will fade. I promise. Stop worrying.” She massaged my shoulders. “It’ll be the best day of your life. And we’ll all be there waiting for you at the end.”
“I know, Morg. I’m just… I mean, what if I forget the words for the incantation?”
“Just say them in your head as you walk to the Stone, and you’ll be fine. Now”—she unclipped my hair and let it fall loosely down my back, then made me stand up—“you remember what Eileen said? How, instead of nakedness they’re letting you take your oath in a fabric made of nature.”
“Yup. Patesco Silk.” I closed my eyes for a second, rolling my head as if it’d help bring the information to the surface. “Spun from spiders’ webs, dyed silver as an offering to the Goddess of the Moon.”
“And, why the Goddess of the Moon?” she asked in a tone one would use with a child in primary school.
“Uh, I know this—” I held my finger up, racking my brain. “It’s the spirit which strengthens Lilithian power.”
“And what else is She?” Morg asked leadingly.
“Um, and…” I stopped, closing my eyes. “She also represents purity and serenity.”
“So you were listening the other day?” Morgaine laughed, helping me out of my bathrobe. “I thought you might have gone to sleep at one point.”
“I thought I had.” I chuckled, covering my bare breasts. “I mean, the first three hours were okay, but after that I lost interest.”
Morgaine grabbed the silver cloth from the bed behind her and wrapped it across my front, tying it around my ribs and over my hips, leaving it hanging loosely from my thighs downward, with a split on each side that revealed my legs. If I moved the wrong way, everyone would see my nakedness beneath.
“Man, could this be any more revealing?” I ran my fingers over my stomach and turned slightly to see myself in the mirror.
“It’s supposed to be, so your people can read the runes of your promise as you head toward the Walk of Faith.”
“But I feel so naked.”
“You look amazing.” She stood behind me and swept my hair back. “When we get outside, I need to get a picture, okay. David wants to see how it looks.”
I laughed. “He was relieved when I told him I wasn’t doing the coronation as close to nature as Lilith did.”
“Well, nakedness wasn’t taken sexually back then. It was a thing of beauty, of perfection.”
“I know. That’s what the Council tried to tell me when they argued with me about it.” I touched my hand to my collarbone, wishing I could grab my silver locket. “I just wish David was here to actually see me like this.”
“He is.” She reached around and placed her hand over mine where it rested on the absence of my locket. “In here.”
“Even that’s still t
oo far away.”
“I know.” Morg nodded. “When I was dating him, even I found it hard to be away from him. He’s… for all his darkest depths, he’s something pretty special.”
“He’s not just special to me, Morg. He’s my soul.” I dropped my hand to my side, feeling the emptiness of his not being there to catch it.
“Do you mean soul-mate?”
“No. I mean—he’s my soul. He’s just the part that broke away.”
Morgaine studied my eyes for a second, her chocolate gaze stealing my emotions to decipher them. “Well”—she cleared her throat—“then let’s hope we catch Drake soon, so you and David can be together again.”
“I think, at this point, I’d happily kill Drake just to have David back.”
“Which scares me,” she said. “Don’t lose who you are, Princess, for the sake of heartbreak. You never know what the future might hold.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, spinning around.
“Nothing.” Morgaine cupped my arms and made me sit on the dresser stool, facing her. “One more thing. Remember how we chose that dress for the crowning?”
“Yeah, the black one.”
“Right, well, you need to be wearing that when you come out of the forest. I know it’s tacky, but you have to change in the bushes before you emerge.”
I nodded. “It’s not tacky. It’s just like a ballet concert. We had to change on the side of the stage sometimes. It’s what the crowd sees that counts, right?”
“That’s right. It’s all about the illusion.” Morgaine smiled widely. “I love how agreeable you are.”
“Agreeable?” I scoffed. “You’ve got to be the only person who would ever say that.”
“That’s not true. Your people love you, Amara—all of them.”
But I’d never believe that. Actions spoke louder than words. “So the dress, does it just slip over this one?”
“Yep. It’ll hide it perfectly. Then you just have to walk to the throne, smiling, and sit in the chair all day for your first Court session. Once that’s over, you can knight the Guard and you’ll be free for a few hours until the ball.”
“Okay.” I nodded, picturing the events ahead. “How did it look—the crowning dress? Is it like the picture we drew?”
“Even better.” Morgaine’s eyes lit up.
“Great. I think I’m most excited about that part.”
She stood up and leaned over the dresser to dash on some of my lip-gloss. “And what are you most scared about?”
“Um… I think the whole enchanted forest thing, you know. People say there’s evil out there, and that if I don’t get out before dawn I’ll be stuck in there for eternity.”
Morgaine’s shoulders dropped. “Um. Look. I know you want reassurance, but… well… just finish the walk before then, and we won’t have to find out.”
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “I feel better now.”
“Sorry, but there’s not much I can say. I don’t know if those rumors are true, and I’m not willing to test them on you, Majesty. Just don’t fail us.”
Feeling a deep rumble in the pit of my stomach, I inhaled the wafting, savory scent of chickens being roasted in the kitchen. Morgaine looked up from straightening her dress and focused on the tight clutch of my hands over my stomach.
“Ara, the sun has barely touched the Earth. You still have a whole twenty-or-so hours to get through before you can eat. Are you going to be okay?”
“No,” I scoffed. “I wasn’t designed to go without food. Especially knowing my faithful subjects will be feasting in my absence. Those chickens smell great.”
“I know. But the feast at the ball tomorrow night will be even better. Trust me, it’s worth the starvation.”
“I don’t see why they’re sticking to the fasting rule.” I rubbed my tummy. “I feel weak enough as it is.”
“Like I said, we love our rules and rituals around here.”
The golden sun set around the world outside then, sending its pink light into my room to warm the walls with the soft kiss of twilight. I shuddered. “It’s nearly time.”
“Yep.” Morgaine took a step back and grabbed her cape off the bed. “Five minutes.”
I took a deep, jagged breath, then smiled. “I like your hair that color. Is it naturally brown?”
“Yep. But the purple streak is dye.” She grinned, touching it. “It matches my dress for tomorrow night’s ball.”
“And the cape, too.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m going for a whole purple theme.”
“I like.”
Morgaine fastened her cloak over her long black dress and smiled at me as my deep breath turned into a yawn. “You’re tired already?”
“Mm-hm.” I yawned again. “Will I get any sleep for the next two days? I mean, I’ll be up all night tonight walking, then all day tomorrow on the throne doing queenly duties, then the ball—”
“Nope. Welcome to being queen. They expect you to be super-human. Oh, wait”—she touched her fingertip to her chin—“you are.”
“I don’t feel super-human.”
“Well, you look super-hot.” She elbowed me gently. “And I actually think that dress is more perfectly close to nature than being naked.”
I touched my fingers to the stiff, almost gristly fabric. “Hey, Morg, I have another question.”
“Shoot.”
“Um, in the oath, I have to say a word that translates to One Entity. Arthur said it means God.”
“Yeah, and?”
“Well, I don’t really know if I believe in God. How can I make an oath to Him if I don’t believe in Him?”
“Why don’t you believe in Him?”
I shrugged. “I just think if He was all so powerful and great, there wouldn’t be such things as war and famine and…”
“Look, Ara, I could so easily get into a debate with you about how ludicrous that statement is, but we don’t have time. The One Entity can be any god you want. It just means a higher power than yourself.”
“But… all the old people here believe in God. Aren’t I supposed to believe what my people believe?”
“Most of your people don’t know what to believe, Amara. Only the Ancients believe in God.”
“Did Lilith believe?”
“Yes.”
“Then, shouldn’t I?”
“You can’t make yourself believe in anything, Princess. And, like I said, as long as you believe in something bigger than yourself, you can choose whichever religion you want. Drake, for example, was a Pagan.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Is that because he’s a witch?”
“No. Study the intricacies of the Pagan religion, Amara. Witchcraft and Paganism are very different.”
“How?”
“Because you don’t have to be a witch to be a Pagan, and you don’t have to be a Pagan to be a witch. Why not do some reading, find out for yourself?”
“Okay. Maybe I will.”
“That’s fine, as long as you believe in something.”
I looked into my heart for a second as I followed Morgaine from my room. I knew there were things in my soul I would never understand, but I also knew I felt something deeper than myself—something I couldn’t explain. There had to be some entity up there, somewhere, which ruled over all. That much I was sure of. Whether it was God or not, I just couldn’t say. But there was something.
Morgaine turned back and grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s go write some history. You can think about the mysteries of God tomorrow.”
8
A rushing sound, like an express train in a subway, forced my eyes open. Small needles of dry pine blurred my vision for a second. I blinked them from my lashes, eyes focusing on the waning daylight, while a woodsy, earthy smell dried my nostrils with each breath. I lifted my face from the crook of my elbow and sat up, circling on my knees a few times in the barky bed I was laying.
Above me, trees soared high
into the summer sky, opening to a ribbon of pink. I jumped to my feet and scuffled back, stopping with my palms flat over the bark of a tree trunk.
“Mike!” I called. “Mike? Are you out there?”
No one answered. I couldn’t hear anyone or anything. There were no birds, no scurrying of little animals hiding under the brush, not even a breeze. Just my own shallow breath and the thumping of my heart. I scrunched my eyes shut, folding over from the tight, searing pulse along my veins, getting hotter the closer it got to my core. And several questions fell through me like water over a window: how the hell did I get out here, and where was everyone else? There were no trees that looked like funny old men with weird names, no rock and no Mike. Nothing but me and my confusion.
I sat down with my legs crossed and ran a fingertip from my ankle to my upper thigh, tracing each tiny little word in black ink. They looked like whirly notepad art or the veins on the back of a leaf. I could feel the burn of the Mark around my eyes and nose, like a mask, but without a puddle or a lake to see my refection, I’d never know what they looked like.
Strangely, though, when I leaned closer to my shin and looked carefully at the words, they peered back up at me like text from a children’s book. Simple. Discernable. I knew the swerves and curls of each rune were letters of the old language, just like Jason’s tattoo, but I could read them—every word, as if they were in plain English.
I looked away quickly, not sure I wanted to know what they said.
Above me, thick purple clouds closed-in the darkening sky, pushing shadows around me. One thing was clear: somehow, I’d made my oath and ended up in the depths of the forest. But I had no memory of it. No idea where I was or how I got here.
After a deep breath, I got to my feet and checked myself: my lip wasn’t cut, neither was my hand, and—I felt my chest—I clearly hadn’t jabbed myself in the heart. Or maybe I did, and now I was dead. Well, as dead as I could be.
Closing my eyes and focusing on my toes, I felt the earth and the tiny bits of bark between them, felt the cool of the twilight air settling around the tops of my ears and the edges of my shoulders. It was real. All too real to be a dream or death. Which meant that once that sun went down, I would have a hard time figuring out which way led back to civilization. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if this was the same forest surrounding the manor. It felt bigger, deeper, scarier than the one I walked in with Mike that day. The trees all felt bare and lifeless, slanting inward like they were looking down on me. I was alone out here, but I didn’t feel alone. Not one little bit.
Dark Secrets Box Set Page 164