Dark Arts (Society of Ancient Magic Book 1)

by Fiona Starr

  Winter gasps and covers her mouth as her eyes well up with tears. “Not again. Not Mel!”

  “Wait a second. We don’t know anything. Don’t jump to conclusions,” Zeke says.

  Ryan nods. “She could have gone home or something. If there was an emergency, maybe she didn’t have time to tell anyone.”

  “She would have texted,” Rachel says, lifting her phone and showing everyone her screen. There’s a list of texts from Rachel to Mel, with no response from Mel.

  “Please don’t let Mel be another one!” Winter says it like a prayer.

  “What are you talking about?” I look at everyone around the table. “Another what?”

  “Another missing student,” Rachel whispers, as if saying it quietly will keep it from being true.

  I think back to the scene at the cottage where that girl came in demanding answers about her sister. Abbey… the one whose room I now have. “Have there been others? How many missing students are there?”

  “Abbey was the third one last year,” Ryan says.

  Roz shakes her head. “And there were two the year before that.”

  Five missing students in the last two years? Six if you count Mel. What the hell? Why is this not bigger news?

  Alice places her hands on the table. “Everyone, think about when you last saw Mel. Which class? Where on campus? What she was wearing. Think details. We’re going to speak to Headmaster Underwood after dinner.”

  Chapter Twenty

  JOELY

  The next morning, Mel is officially declared missing. Her family is coming to meet with the headmaster who has asked us to let the authorities do their job and not spread any rumors to cause panic among the students.

  Headmaster Underwood kept brushing his salt and pepper hair out of his eyes as he listened to our report. He seemed as alarmed and worried as we were, but he made it clear that the best thing to do was to carry on.

  My roommates and I go to breakfast, but it’s like there’s a cloud hanging over everything. It’s weird going about the day when Mel is unaccounted for. Carry on… pretend everything’s fine. Yeah, right.

  “Is this how it was when Abbey went missing?” I ask, unsure if I am crossing a line.

  Winter nods. “Yeah. It was just before the end of term. The last time I saw her we made plans to study for our languages final.” Her chin quivers and she looks down, her curly brown hair falling over her face. “I wish they would do something about this. How are we supposed to just carry on? This is crazy!” She pushes her chair back and hurries out of the dining hall.

  Rachel drops her napkin on the table and goes after her.

  Roz leans back in her chair. “Look. There’s nothing we can actually do, right? Really. I mean, aside from keeping our eyes open and making sure we all look after each other, we have to keep doing our thing. We can’t skip our classes, and what good would that do if we did? Sitting around doesn’t help anyone find Mel. And we have initiation tonight.”

  I almost forgot about initiation.

  We all nod because she’s right, but it doesn’t change the odd feeling of knowing Mel might be in danger, or, god forbid, dead. I find it so strange that there isn’t anything other than her absence that stands out. Nobody broke into her room. There wasn’t a fight or anything. She just vanished. How does a person just disappear like that?

  The dress robe Maurice made for me for the initiation ceremony is deep forest green. The gold piping around the edges catches the light and sparkles with the slightest movement. A cascade of colorful autumn leaves seems to fall from above, gathering at the hem and making it look as if I am standing in the forest. The wide cuffs hang almost to the floor, and when I pull up the hood, it conceals my face from view to anyone who isn’t standing directly in front of me.

  It’s surprisingly cool under the robe, given how much fabric there is. Roz helped me choose the dress that I am wearing before she had to go. Maurice sent over a dozen different gowns, but I knew right away that I wanted this one tonight.

  It’s the color of champagne and covered in glistening beadwork. It’s shoulder-less and backless, and clasps around my neck like a choker. The heavy fabric fans out to cover my chest and it clings to me as it drapes all the way down to my toes. The shoes are the same pale pink shade, and the spiked heel adds few inches to my height.

  Roz and the others have been at the cottage all day preparing. When I arrive at the mansion, I’m ushered into the large ballroom which is empty except for all of us initiates in our robes. I force myself not to look around for Angus. I busy myself with the view, and when that reminds me of my visit with Angus on the patio during the welcome gala, I look up at the stars instead.

  “I’m so nervous, aren’t you?” I met the girl next to me the other day. She’s got straight black hair that hangs like silk down her back. She follows my gaze and looks up at the sky, which is full of twinkling stars.

  I do have butterflies in my stomach, but I couldn’t say what was causing them. “Yeah,” I say, searching my memory for her name. “It’s Caris, right? From Elemental Studies?”

  She smiles. “Yeah. You’re Joely. I can’t believe we’re actually here. I hope it’s as special as I imagined.”

  The details of tonight’s ceremony are a complete secret. Roz and Winter wouldn’t give any hints about anything, no matter how slyly I tried to get them to drop details. They just smiled and told me how special it would be and reminded me that they all took a vow of silence as far as sharing details was concerned.

  A gong sounds, reverberating through the large room. Caris and I turn toward the sound. A hooded figure in a deep red robe stands on the landing. Their hood is pulled down so I can only see the bottom half of their face. The angular jaw and hint of a beard is the only thing that tells me he’s male.

  He spreads his arms wide. “Initiates! I am Master Damon and it is my honor to welcome you to The Society of Ancient Magic.” His voice is a deep baritone that resonates through the room. “Only those who are worthy are invited to join our ranks, and once you take your place among us, you become part of a new family. A family whose connection is beyond compare. A bond deeper than anything else in the world.” He turns to face the wall above the stairs where the banner displays the Society crest.

  “Magicae est quam sanguis densior.” He reads the words that surround the crest and turns back to the room. Our motto will come to mean something precious to you all. Magicae est quam sanguis densior,” he says again. “Magic is thicker than blood.” He steps off the landing and down to the floor. “Come. It is time.”

  Everyone moves toward the back of the room. We’re ushered through a wide hallway toward a staircase leading down. The steps are made of stone and the curved wall is lined with flaming torches. At the top of the stairs, a hooded figure in a navy robe stops me with a silent gesture and lifts my hood to cover my head.

  The person nods and sends me through. I follow the others down the stairs into a cave-like space lit entirely by hundreds of candles. Another guide takes my hand and leads me to my place in the center of the room.

  I count ten of us initiates standing in a half circle. All of the initiates are wearing ornate forest green robes. The designs on each of them are different, from what I can see, but the main fabric looks identical. The majority of the others are wearing dark blue robes, the only exception so far being Master Damon in red.

  In front of us, on a pedestal made of stone, stands a tall gold urn. The top of the urn flares out like a flower. Bright white light shines out from inside the urn. It glows and churns, with wisps of silvery thread that float into the air and fade away. Tiny specks of glowing light skitter around the beam like minuscule fireflies, pulsing and darting around and around.

  Master Damon steps up on a raised platform behind the urn, his red robe glowing in the light. “The Vessel of Truth brings the four lines of ancient magic together, forming a nexus of power to benefit us all.”

  As one, the rest of the members respond. “Penes
veteres iungimus.”

  “Let the power of the ancients bind us together. Let the four lines join us and make us one.” He lifts his hands and begins chanting, his words echoing deep through the cavernous space which must be way larger than I can see from here. Purple light bursts from the vessel, sending colorful sparks like fireworks into the room.

  “Imbarc Noviné!” Master Damon raises his voice over the crackle coming from the vessel.

  Tendrils of purple light snake out from the vessel. They arc over the line of initiates and shroud three of the initiates in a beam of sparkling purple light.

  Members step up from behind and place their hands on the shoulders of the glowing initiates. Then they place a purple ribbon around their neck with a medallion hanging from it. The three initiates are led away from the circle and made to stand together in front of a group of members.

  “Tuath Dé!” Red light explodes from the vessel as the man’s words fade. And a moment later, I’m covered in warm red light. A hand touches my shoulder and someone places a medallion around my neck. Then I am led away along with one other initiate. The hand on my shoulder squeezes me reassuringly.

  The last two names that are called are Lupon Drago and Mintea Bon, and once all the initiates are given their medallions and claimed by their group, the chanting begins again.

  The ritual takes on a church like feel, where Master Damon says something and the rest of the congregation responds in unison. It’s all in another language that means nothing to me, but I listen, rapt, and let the words wash over me.

  The air in the room seems to glisten and grow warm. Master Damon takes his hood off and kneels on the floor. Someone behind me lifts my hood off and urges me to my knees as the chanting continues and the vessel shoots light and sparks into the air.

  After a moment, the meaning of the words touches my awareness. I blink, feeling disoriented at the sudden change in their speech. But when I look around, I see everyone is speaking in that foreign tongue, though the meaning is reaching me in English. The phrases are spoken by Master Damon and then the response comes from the group.

  Bestow upon the initiates the blessings of the quaternity.

  —We unite in the power of the ancients.

  May the power of the ancient lines, confirmed by the Vessel of Truth, be the guiding light of our lives.

  —We use our power for good above all.

  Bring the initiates to our bosom so they can know true oneness with their brothers and sisters.

  —Magic is thicker than blood.

  Light flashes from the vessel, first red, then blue, then green, then gold. Then a wash of white spills out, reflecting on the faces of everyone. A rush of heat blazes through me, making me feel woozy. I’m glad that I’m on my knees as the dizziness becomes overwhelming.

  The gleam in the air flickers for a moment and goes out. It’s like the glamour of the ceremony falls away and everything takes on a dingy, everyday feel. The vessel looks like any other urn, the room is just a big cave, and Master Damon looks gaunt and drawn, older than he did before.

  I glance at the others, but nobody seems to have noticed, and the chanting keeps going, repeating now.

  The room flickers again. The warm comforting sense is back, and I feel myself enveloped by the ceremony as if I’m being wrapped in the gentlest embrace. I watch Master Damon, who looks vibrant and youthful again. His words fall from his lips like liquid, flowing through the room and touching us all. As if sensing my gaze, Master Damon opens his eyes and looks directly at me. For a second I feel like we’ve met before.

  His smile is subtle, just for me. But it snaps me back from my thoughts and makes me focus again on the moment. When I look again, his eyes are closed and he’s chanting and I wonder if I imagined his glance.

  A flash screams through my head. The raven warbles as it passes over me, its wings pushing the air into my face. The woman screams in the distance and the white wolf howls. A figure steps out from the trees. Something I haven’t seen before. I try to see their face but they stay in the shadows, just out of view. Red eyes watch and sharp teeth tear and the wolf begins to howl.

  I blink away the vision and take a quick glance around the room. The chanting has stopped and everyone is getting to their feet. I stand up and feel my heart skip a beat as I notice Mel standing by the stairs.

  She looks at me and then up the stairs, grabbing the rail and moving slowly upward, one step at a time. I can see through her body to the stone wall behind her. This isn’t real. She isn’t really there.

  I look around the room and spot Angus. He’s watching me, a look of concern on his face. My heart squeezes at the sight of him. Then I look behind him and meet Van’s eyes. He looks away as if caught staring. I wish I knew what was wrong with Van. But I am suddenly so tired of all of his crap that I just close my eyes. I refuse to feed my curiosity.

  I don’t have the bandwidth for this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  JOELY

  “Congratulations, plebe! Let the hazing begin!” Roz is all smiles as she teases me. “You did great. What did you think?”

  We’ve taken off our robes and we’re back in the ballroom which has been transformed from when we arrived earlier.

  “Your dress looks amazing!” Roz hold my hands out and gushes over my gown.

  Hers is equally stunning in strapless deep violet. It has a fitted bodice and a full skirt that swishes when she walks.

  “So is yours. Everyone looks gorgeous. The room is spectacular.”

  Two gigantic chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their crystals twinkling from hundreds of creamy golden candles that flicker in their holders. Dozens of huge flower arrangements fill every alcove and shelf around the room, the blooms in every shade of white and cream, with a few sprays of pink here and there. Silky fabric hangs from the walls in bunches, like milky waterfalls spilling onto the floor. Music moves through the air as waiters pass champagne and hors d’oeuvres. The whole room is soft and dreamy, like a fairytale ball that hint of a time long gone.

  Roz grabs a tiny kebab from a passing tray. “So, you’re Tuath Dé, she says. Me too.” She points to a tiny pin near her shoulder that looks just like the larger medallion I received during the ceremony. I lift the medallion and inspect the design, which is a simple three-pronged spiral with a sword cutting diagonally through it.

  “What does it mean?” I ask.

  “Oh, you know. Now we get to stay up late and braid each other’s hair and do each other’s makeup.” She laughs and then explains. “It’s a reminder of who we are. Where we belong, and that we are truly stronger together.”

  Who we are. Where we belong. Her words make my throat feel tight.

  I think about my family and my biological parents and the mess waiting to be unraveled with all of them. What if everything falls apart once it’s all out in the open? What if I am left without anyone in the end?

  Roz’s arm slides around me. It’s like she can sense my thoughts. She turns us to face the far wall and points to the banner above the staircase. “Magicae est quam sanguis densior. Magic is thicker than blood, sister.”

  Sister. That one word feels like a lifeline right now. I pull her to me and hug her tight. Maybe belonging here can be enough.

  Winter and Georgia hurry over with Caris, who they introduce to Roz. They start talking about the ceremony and all the things that we’re going to do now that we are official members of the Society.

  I catch Angus out of the corner of my eye.

  Roz whispers. “Mayday. Trouble at two o’clock.”

  I feel my body stiffen. “I don’t want to see him right now,” I say.

  “Give yourself a tour of the place. I’ll keep him busy.”

  “You’re the best,” I say as I slip away without a glance in his direction.

  I hurry to the back of the room and turn at the alcove near the stairs. People are mingling in the hall, talking excitedly about the night and what’s to come. I head through the hall and peek
inside the rooms as I pass. There’s a solarium filled with fruit trees, a library, and another hall leading further into the mansion.

  Movement at the back of the hall catches my eye. Mel appears near the wall, clutching the corner like she’s waiting for me. She’s half-hidden by a sculpture, and like before, her body is transparent.

  Master Damon and Daria cross the hall. Daria walks right through the Mel ghost. Daria gives no indication that she senses anything out of the ordinary.

  Mel’s hair is still up in the double buns, but her face looks scared and pale.

  I don’t even think. I head down the hall toward Mel. I have no idea what I expect or if I can trust what I’m seeing. I mean, is she actually a ghost? Or a shade? Or have I completely lost my mind?

  When I get to the end of the hall, she’s gone from the corner. Now she’s down another hall on my left, heading upstairs.

  I take the stairs as quickly as I can in my dress and my heels. When I get to the top of the stairs, I hear muffled voices coming from my right, in the direction Mel went.

  A man and a woman are just around the corner. Arguing. I hurry along the corridor, tip toeing forward.

  “How could you do this today of all days? We have a house full of people, in case you’ve lost your grip. It’s the initiate ceremony for goddess sake!” Daria steps out of a room and pulls the door shut as she whisper-shouts at Master Damon, who stands there looking amused.

  “The Vessel dictates the timeline, Daria. There is no way around it.”

  “Well, I wish you would think before you act. The risk…”

  Master Damon pushes Daria against the wall. She gasps for air as he presses his hand into her throat. “You forget yourself.”