The Ravens
Page 31
Scarlett shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the same,” she said firmly.
Vivi smiled sadly but nodded as if she understood. The two girls fell silent again as Vivi went back to work. Finally, Vivi tapped her shoulder. “Okay, take a look.”
Scarlett cracked an eye open. Then both her eyes widened. The girl in the mirror looked both familiar and not. She had Scarlett’s same brown eyes and deep brown skin. But her cheekbones seemed just a touch higher and sharper, her eyelashes longer, her lips a shade fuller—or maybe that was just an illusion thanks to the bright red color Vivi had given them.
Her curls were held up with dozens of glittering pins shaped like little fall leaves, burnt orange and garnet and peridot. Her hair fell in a cascade of perfect ringlets down her back to her black cocktail dress.
Normally the harvest-moon ritual was a time to celebrate the fruits of their labor before they buckled down for the winter. But tonight it’d be a more somber affair, honoring the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.
It seemed fitting, since Tiffany’s and Dahlia’s funerals had been held earlier in the week.
It also reminded Scarlett exactly how unfit she was to lead anybody, let alone Kappa House. Even if she looked the part, she didn’t feel it, not inside.
“You don’t like it?” Over her shoulder, Vivi bit her lip.
Scarlett shook her head. “No, the glamour is perfect, Vivi, thank you.”
She rose and crossed her room to the balcony doors. Outside, she could already see their sisters in the backyard. Juliet stoked the bonfire, Jess at her side adding bundles of herbs to the wood at intervals. Those two hadn’t spent more than a minute apart since everything went down.
Scarlett was glad they had each other. After these past few weeks, she wanted to hold tight to those she loved too.
Especially her sisters. Sisters who she couldn’t bear the thought of letting down again. “What if you all vote me in and I just . . . what if I screw it up?” Scarlett’s breath fogged the glass. She spoke so softly, she wasn’t sure Vivi would hear.
But a heartbeat later, her Little materialized at her side. “I think the fact that you’re so concerned means you’re more ready than ever to lead.”
Scarlett laughed.
“I mean it.” Vivi caught her eye. “Great leaders are born of necessity, not certainty. We need you, Scarlett. More than ever. But if you stood here and told me you had no fears, that you were completely certain you’d be the best president the Ravens ever had, then I’d be worried. After all, we know what wanting power for power’s sake looks like.”
Tiffany.
Scarlett had spent so much time these past couple of weeks sorting through her feelings about her best friend. She’d probably always wrestle with them, because deep down, a big part of her still loved Tiffany. And seeing the way Tiffany’s mother had crumpled at her funeral, weeping, had broken Scarlett’s heart. She knew why Tiffany did what she did.
And that realization scared her. What if love led her down the wrong path one day too?
But no. If nothing else, witnessing what Tiffany had become—seeing her horrible end—had shown her what waited on the other side of wickedness, had shown her the consequences of the lure of untold power. Tiffany had taught her that much. Scarlett just had to believe she’d never forget the lesson, never repeat her friend’s mistakes.
And in the meantime . . . Vivi was right. Her sisters needed her. Scarlett still wasn’t sure she deserved to lead them, but if they asked her to, for their sakes, she would.
Kappa first, last, and always.
“I’m ready,” she told Vivi’s reflection.
Her sister smiled and reached for the door. “Good. Then go lead these witches.”
* * *
Mei and Etta did most of the ritual setup, with Juliet’s and Jess’s help. The freshmen had pitched in too, baking the buttermilk loaves and mulling hot apple cider. Mei and Etta had prepared the altar, overflowing with apples and pears, rose hips and blackberries, winter melon and persimmons. It was a time for feasting, for celebration.
But they’d also brought over a chair and a small wrought-iron table from the greenhouse, and on the table they’d set a full plate of food and an overflowing cup of wine. They’d draped the chair with Dahlia’s red ceremonial robes and adorned the table with red candles and some deep purple orchids Etta must have picked from the greenhouse. It was a symbolic place for Dahlia in their midst.
It made Scarlett’s heart ache to see it. But she knew Dahlia would appreciate it. She’d loved Kappa with all her entire being. In the end, she’d given everything for them.
Scarlett wouldn’t let her down.
Scarlett pulled out Minnie’s tarot cards and laid them on the table alongside all the other witches’ decks and began to speak.
“Sisters, thank you for gathering tonight.” Scarlett eyed them one by one. Everyone had dressed for the occasion—they all wore black cocktail dresses, except Juliet, who wore an elegant black three-piece suit. The black served a dual purpose: Black for ravens. Black for mourning. And each woman wore her sorority charm on a simple chain around her neck. “The past few weeks have been a trying time for us all. We’ve suffered loss and betrayal. We’ve had one of our own taken from us well before her time.” All the sisters looked to Dahlia’s seat. “And we watched another break our deepest, most sacred vows.”
For a moment, a heavy silence fell. Ariana broke it, sniffling softly; Vivi reached over and put an arm around her.
“We will not forget our sisters. Either their sacrifice or their mistakes.” Scarlett drew a deep breath. “But the harvest is also a time of plenty. A time to celebrate what we still have as we prepare for the long, dark winter ahead.” She stretched out her hands. Mei stood on her right, and she clasped that hand. Vivi took her left, her other arm still wrapped around Ariana.
One by one, the Ravens linked hands.
“Tonight, our ritual will renew the bond of our sisterhood. We will pledge ourselves to one another, share our magic and our loyalty both. But first . . .” Scarlett squared her shoulders. “We must decide on a new leader.”
Traditionally, the exiting president nominated their first pick, and almost always, Kappa voted that person in. This time, however . . . “Mei?”
With a reassuring squeeze, Mei dropped her hand and knelt to pick up a bundle at her feet. Feathers. But not the pure white feathers they used to vote girls into the sorority. These were already a lush black, tinged with metallic green and purple.
Mei passed them around the circle to every Raven. While she did that, Scarlett explained.
“Any Raven may nominate a presidential candidate. Once we have all the nominations in, we will vote on our chosen sister.”
When Mei reached Scarlett, she winked as she passed Scarlett her feather. “I nominate Scarlett Winter,” Mei said before anyone else could speak.
“Seconded,” Vivi spoke up from her left.
Scarlett bowed her head. She’d known that was coming, at least. “All right. And the other nominations?” The patio fell silent. She stared around the circle at each girl, expecting at least one other option. Maybe Jess would speak up for Juliet, or Etta for Mei?
But the only sound was the wind gently rustling the trees in the distance, tugging at the girls’ skirts and toying with their hair.
Scarlett’s throat tightened. Every Raven simply stared at her, waiting. As if she’d already been chosen. “But—” Scarlett started.
Mei interrupted. “Cast your votes in favor,” she said. As she spoke, the feather in her fist tilted upright. It took on a brighter shine, ruffling lightly as, fiber by fiber, barb by barb, it transmuted into a gleaming metallic gold.
Slowly, around the circle, every other feather began to do the same. Vivi’s transformed last, and her Little smiled, a proud glint in her eye, as she lifted her golden feather to Scarlett in salute. Everyone else mirrored her, until only Scarlett’s feather remained.
The other girls wa
tched her, clearly confused about the break in the ritual.
Scarlett took in her sisters, thinking about just how complicated it was being a witch and a Raven. She was getting exactly what she wanted, but in a very different way from what she’d always pictured. It wasn’t a triumphant rise but an appointment born of heartbreak and necessity. But looking around the circle, with its gap where two sisters used to be, she realized that she was stronger than she’d ever imagined, and so were her sisters.
When Scarlett was preparing for rush, Minnie had told her, You can be the most powerful witch in the world if you believe in yourself and you believe in your sisters. But being the best witch and being the best Raven aren’t one in the same.
At the time, she’d thought it was Minnie being Minnie. Minnie was so very good. But now, Scarlett saw the truth of Minnie’s sentiment. Being a Raven had always meant being the best. But being the most powerful witch and being the best sister were not the same thing. The Ravens pushed one another forward constantly. The pressure of competition was what made them all their best, or so she thought. But what if she had stopped striving and taken time to notice what was happening with Tiffany? What if she had seen her friend hurting and then had stopped her from hurting anyone else?
There was a part of their history, a part of themselves, that they had failed to deal with all over again. How many witches had to die before they learned from their mistakes?
Scarlett looked around at each of her sisters. “I know how deeply I screwed up. How I put us all at risk. But if you trust me, I want us to become a different kind of sorority. One that values sisterhood just as much as it values power. I think we can do better. I think we can be better. I think we can make sure that what happened to Gwen and Dahlia and Tiffany and Evelyn all those years ago will never happen again. But only if we keep our eyes open. Only if we admit that there is a capacity for evil in each of us. I will accept this position if and only if you all want a new Kappa. One that doesn’t ignore the evil but faces it. One that we can all be proud of. Now, I’ll give you a minute, in case any of you want to change your feathers back.”
There was a long pause. Jess tightened her grip on Juliet’s hand. Bailey exchanged a glance with Ariana. Mei just stared at Scarlett, her expression unreadable. Finally, Vivi broke the silence.
“The only feather we’re waiting to change is yours, Big,” she said with a smile. The other girls nodded and grinned.
Surprised by the rush of emotion, Scarlett had to blink back tears. She cast one last glance into the center of the circle, where Dahlia’s table sat.
I won’t let you down, she silently promised her Big Sister. Then Scarlett lifted her own feather and let the golden barbs glitter beneath the night sky.
She looked from one sister to another. They had faced the evil and won. And there was nothing to say that they would ever have to do it again. Except history.
“I accept,” she said, and she watched as the feathers lifted into the air, soared toward the center of the circle, and knit together to form a crown. Scarlett bowed her head; Vivi plucked the wreath from the air and carefully placed it upon her new president’s head. When Scarlett lifted her chin, her eyes met Vivi’s for a second before alighting on each of her sisters.
She felt their magic flowing through her. And she felt their magic around her. For the first time she felt like she truly understood what it meant to be a witch. The power. The sacrifice. The privilege. Vivi was right. She could do this.
She was a witch. She was a Raven. And together she and her sisters could do anything.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my friends, collaborators, and cheerleaders at Alloy who’ve made my writerly dreams come true: Les Morgenstein, Josh Bank, Sara Shandler, Joelle Hobeika, Viana Siniscalchi, and Romy Golan. And extra-special thanks to our editor Lanie Davis, whose wisdom, creativity, kindness, and immense storytelling prowess make her the most valuable witch in any coven.
I feel very lucky to be working with the fabulous team at HMH, especially Emilia Rhodes, whose keen editorial mind is one of the sharpest in the business. You believed in this project from the very beginning and your enthusiasm and clear vision inspired us to tell the best story possible. And thank you to Jessica Handelman for creating the witchy cover of our dreams.
A huge thank-you to the Rights People and all the foreign publishers who’ve produced such gorgeous editions of my books and allowed me to meet amazing people all around the world. Special thanks to Blossom Books, 20/20 Editora, and Éditions Robert Laffont for their support, and especially to Fabien Le Roy for his help with my French spellwork.
I’m so grateful, as ever, to my staggeringly talented and endlessly encouraging writing group: Laura Bisberg, Michael Bisberg, Laura Jean Ridge, Matt Gline, Nick Eliopulos, Grace Kendall, and Gavin Brown.
And a second shout-out to Grace, along with Emily Clement, for accompanying me on a last-minute, whirlwind research trip to Savannah. There’s no one in the world I’d rather drink cocktails and explore cemeteries with than you ladies.
Thank you to my Scholastic family, especially Olivia Valcarce for reigniting my love of tarot; Maya Marlette, for keeping me productive, sane, and making me laugh all day; and Shelly Romero, for bringing glam-goth vibes to the office and for her helpful, astute sensitivity read. Ellen Goodlett, thank you so incredibly much for your spells, witchy brain, and being part of our sisterhood. You are magic. And to my real family, especially my father, Sam Henry Kass, for making me a writer.
Benjamin Hart, thank you for your unwavering support and for bringing so much real magic into my life.
And the biggest shout-out of all to Danielle Paige. Thank you for this incredible opportunity and for helping me grow as a storyteller. I still can’t believe I got to write a book with one of my favorite authors and one of my favorite people.
Kass Morgan
To my love, Chris Albers: You are magic. I love you.
To my family, Andrea, Daddy, Sienna, and Josh: I love you all so much; you are my heart. Sienna, I love you and all your magic!
To my goddaughter Fi: I love you to infinity. I can’t wait to see what spells you cast.
To Annie, Chris, Fiona, and Jackson Rolland, my second family.
To Lauren Dell, my forever friend.
To Bonnie Datt: Thanking you and Nanette Lepore forever, friend.
To Daryn Strauss: There aren’t enough texts to thank you, babe!
To Josh Sabarra: Thank you for almost two decades of love and support.
To Ellen Goodlett: Thank you for being an immensly talented member of our coven. You are a true Raven.
To Sasha Alsberg: Thank you for always being my cheerleader and my friend! I am so proud of you.
To my girls, Jeanne Marie Hudson, Megan Steintrager, Lexi Dwyer, Lisa Tollin, Sarah Kagan, Kristin Nelthorpe. And to the next gen of girls’ night—Emma and Eli Brenner, Logan and Jasper Dell, Aidan and Colin Kennedy, Fritz, Julian, and Montague Sutton Nelthorpe, Daisy and Clara Muñoz, Connor and Samantha Wynne.
To my team at New Leaf: Thank you, Hillary Pecheone, Abbigail Donoghue, Jordan Hill.
Jo Volpe and Pouya Shabazian: Thank you for all the things.
To my assistant, Emily Williams, who keeps everything running and who is such a light.
To my Guiding Light family: You gave me my start and stuck by me all these years. Jill Lorie Hurst, Tina Sloan, Crystal Chappell, Melissa Salmons, Laura Wright, Jordan’s Vilasuso . . . and so many more.
To Sasha Mote: Thank you for all the sweetness and support you bring.
To Kami Garcia: There’s no one else I want to pull a heist with, and you know how much I love you.
To Frank Lesser: Thank you for being a sounding board and for being so prolific; you inspire me.
To Carin Greenberg: You are my friend and my oracle.
To Lanie Davis: After all this time I am so happy we found a spell to work together.
To Joelle Hobeika: Thank you for all your witchy guidance.
To Emilia Rhodes: Thank you for sprinkling your magic on our Ravens.
Thank you, Kass Morgan, for saying yes to being my sister witch, on the page and off. The first time I heard you tell a story, I was smitten with your voice and spirit. I am so glad we get to make magic together. I adore you, friend.
Danielle Paige
hmhteen.com
About the Authors
photo by Michael Bisberg
KASS MORGAN is the New York Times best-selling author of The 100 series, which was the inspiration for the hit CW show of the same name, and the Light Years series. An editor of middle grade and young adult fiction at a large publisher, Kass received a bachelor’s degree from Brown University and a master’s degree from Oxford University. She lives in New York City.
photo by Laura Hanfin
DANIELLE PAIGE is the New York Times best-selling author of the Dorothy Must Die series and Stealing Snow, as well as an upcoming Fairy Godmother origin story series and the graphic novel Mera: Tidebreaker for DC. In addition to writing young adult books, she works in the television industry and has received a Writers Guild of America Award and several Daytime Emmy nominations. She is a graduate of Columbia University. Danielle lives in New York City.
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