by Tess Adair
Logan located the nearest pew with empty seats at the very back and made a beeline for it, with Jude and Knatt following close behind.
As the other two took their seats, Jude noticed a black-robed figure hurrying towards them. Their robe was a little different from most of the others: the entire left sleeve was a deep, blood red, while the right breast panel of the robe bore a now-familiar image of a sun with what looked like a sword sticking right through it. Jude recognized it from the wall sconces in her tiny room.
The figure motioned with their hands, rushing Jude to sit. As soon as she did, the figure joined them and, sitting at the very edge of the pew, pulled back the corner of her hood.
“Oh, thank god it’s actually you,” said Eliana Blake as she made eye contact with Jude. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“Sorry,” Jude muttered in reply, feeling strangely self-conscious. “We got—distracted.”
Even though she really liked Eliana so far, Logan’s suspicion rang in her ears, and she decided to hold back the fact that they had gotten lost.
“Not to worry,” said Eliana, sounding unbothered. “It’s just that—if you guys get eaten by a rogue demon on my watch, it might mess up my class standing. That’s all.”
This time there was no doubt about what Jude saw: Eliana had winked at her.
Jude floundered for something to say, but her words were failing her. A million different half-jokes about demons and eating and even standing up raced through her mind, each as abysmal as the last. Eventually she just smiled, hoping that it made her look like she was in on the joke.
But maybe she just looked like an idiot. It was hard to say.
In either case, Eliana’s attention diverted back to the front of the room. Sighing, Jude decided to take another look at the room around them, at the crowds amassed on every side.
Amidst the masses of black-robed people sitting all around, she glimpsed a smattering of other figures with a single red sleeve, like Eliana. They bore the sun-and-sword symbol, too.
On the far side of the room, up on a dais dominated by a large stone slab, stood twelve people in slightly different robes from the majority of the crowd. Though they were still primarily black, they bore gold-lined cowls, gold bands of cloth woven into their sleeves, and a large version of the gold sun symbol on the back. Their faces were obscured by their hoods.
Before them, taking up the first row of pews, sat about forty or fifty people wearing black robes with silver-lined cowls. After that, there were maybe 200 people with blue-lined cowls. Jude blinked a few times, trying to take everything in at once.
How many people are actually in the Order? She wondered. Glancing around at the overall crowd, she guessed the plain black robes outnumbered the special cowls by a factor of about two to one. The red sleeves seemed to be the smallest group, though, because they were the hardest to identify in a crowd that was already seated and mostly facing away from her, she had to estimate.
She was about to lean over to ask Eliana how many people were in her graduating class when the lights suddenly dimmed, and the quietly buzzing crowd went completely silent.
Though the darkness left her momentarily blind, Jude locked her gaze on the front of the room, automatically straightening her spine. She felt a tension in the air, tugging everyone’s focus toward the dais and whatever was about to happen. After a moment, the sound of footsteps reverberated through the room. An unseen figure made its way down the main aisle, passing pew after pew of silent onlookers, fading a little as they made their way to the other end of the cavernous chamber. Finally they stopped, and silence resumed. The tension intensified.
“Welcome, everyone.”
Up on the dais stood a lone figure, wearing robes of pristine white. The material looked fine and heavy, cascading luxuriously to the floor. Two pale hands reached up and pulled back the hood, revealing the face of an older white man, his black hair trimmed neatly and streaked with gray.
He had a professional look about him; Jude immediately imagined him wearing a suit instead of robes, and the image in her mind felt more appropriate than the reality she could see. His short goatee seemed to agree with her.
He cleared his throat and spread his arms out wide.
“We are so glad you all could make it,” he said. His voice had been magnified somehow, made loud enough to hear perfectly even in the far corners of the room, although Jude couldn’t make out a microphone on him. His mouth pressed into a smile, but his eyes looked cold and calculating, like he was sizing the crowd up. “To all our donors, big and small, I say thank you. Without you, none of us could be here for this moment. The Order of Shadows relies on each and every one of you to perpetuate its existence. And, as you all know, our continued existence matters now more than ever.
“From the time of the mother Morgana, the first Prophet Priestess of the High See, who broke ranks with her brethren in the Old Temple and chose to rise against the Dark King—” he paused to cast his gaze across the crowd, as if impressing upon each of them, individually, how important this particular feat had been, “—until the future of tomorrow, and what evil it may bring, the Order of Shadows remains.
“We are the force that stands fast against the darkness. Those who enter our ranks become members of a chosen tribe, destined to join the eternal conflict to which we pledge our very lives.” He looked out at the crowd again, a self-satisfied smirk breaking into his intended gravitas.
“It is in their honor, those young soldiers of untold fortitude, that we gather here on the eve of the full moon. Just as our brethren have before us.
“Two days hence, our top Novices will compete in the Gauntlet Tournament, an annual tradition dating back to the Order’s founding, nearly a thousand years hence. That very evening, the Gauntlet’s winner will be initiated into our esteemed ranks with high honors, thus kicking off the final festivities—where we will say farewell to our generous donors in style.”
On Knatt’s other side, Logan scoffed. Jude could just picture her crossing her arms and pursing her lips. Up on the dais, the white-robed man beamed.
“We begin with a traditional rite of blessing.”
The smile dropped from his face, replaced with a businesslike seriousness, as he picked up a small matchbox, struck a match, and lit the four long tapered candles set on the stone slab in front of them. When he spoke, his voice seemed to have taken on a mystical quality.
“We call upon the powers of twilight, as did our forefathers.” He dipped his hand into a cloth satchel and spread the powder inside it on the stone as well. “We call upon the meeting of the sun and moon, as did Morgana. We call upon the four corners as our heavenly guides. West, East, South, North. Come to us, and bless our ceremonies.”
Perhaps it was because of his earlier smirk, or perhaps it was because of the inauthentic decorations in her bedroom, but Jude couldn’t help feeling like this was all an act.
“Come to us, and witness our sacrifices. Come to us, and be known among us.”
With a flourish, he revealed his left arm to the audience. His right hand picked up a knife from the table and pressed it to his skin. With one quick motion, he shed his own blood, releasing a spray of tiny red droplets over the flickering flames.
“Ah’n’esh vi’dei!” he cried. “Ah’n’esh vi’dei!”
Suddenly each of the four candles began to emit a different color of smoke: red, gold, black, and white. The smoke rose to the ceiling in ever thickening columns, each one moving this way and that, like four snakes feeling their way through the air. If Jude didn’t know any better, she would have said they each had a mind of their own.
“The hour is struck!” cried the white-robed figure.
“The hour is struck!” echoed a chorus of blue cowls in the front few rows.
With that, the white robe slammed his hands down on the slab, and each of the candles exploded like a mini firework. The stage lights went out, and for the briefest moment, the entire chamber was full of
nothing but smoke and silence.
Then the crowd burst into applause. Jude, caught up in the moment, clapped her hands along with the rest of them before she stopped herself.
Wasn’t she supposed to be keeping her stoic cool, playing her cards as close to the chest as possible? Applauding like a little kid at her first magic show wasn’t exactly her best idea of stoicism. She lowered her hands as calmly as she could and let them rest at her sides.
As the crowd continued to applaud, the house lights came up. People all around Jude were standing as they clapped, and to her right, Jude even heard a brief whistle.
The dais was now completely empty save for the stone slab itself. The white-robed figure was gone, the candles were gone, even the twelve figures in silver cowls had disappeared. The act appeared to be over.
“Is that it?” Jude mumbled out loud, before she could stop herself.
Then a silver cowl reappeared, climbing up the short set of stairs onto the dais and lowering her hood as she turned to face the crowd. She had wavy brown hair pulled into a loose bun, and a pleasant face with high cheekbones. When she spoke, her voice was mysteriously magnified, just like the man’s had been.
“Everyone, please begin to make your way to one of the three dining halls next to us,” she said. Her voice had a faint accent, but Jude didn’t know enough about accents to be able to place it for sure. French, maybe?
“The tables this evening are not assigned, so please find a seat wherever you would like, and a member of the wait staff will be with you shortly. Thank you!”
At her words, Jude found her attention drawn to her stomach, which had begun to grumble insistently. She wondered what kind of food the Order of Shadows prepared for its guests.
All around her, people were lowering their hoods and glancing about in every direction. Jude watched Eliana take hold of hers and pull it down. For the first time, she noticed the subtler differences in their attire: while she wouldn’t have called her plain black robe cheap exactly, Eliana’s was, without a doubt, the finer of the two. Hers appeared to be made of lined silk, with minute embroidery all along the collar and hems, displaying symbols Jude couldn’t identify. Eliana grinned as she caught Jude staring.
“You like?” she asked, tugging on her collar as if it were a medal. “I should be getting the black, day after tomorrow.”
“Wow,” said Jude a little breathlessly, though she didn’t strictly know what that meant. “Is that—so you’ll be, like, promoted?”
“It means I’ll be an Adept and not a Novice anymore,” answered Eliana. “The colors here are mostly ceremonial. Outside the Summit, we’re all in black. Except the High Prophet, of course.”
Jude gave her a blank look, and Eliana smiled in return.
“He’s always in white.”
“Oh. I see.”
The High Prophet, or Atherton as Logan called him, was the man in the white robe—the one who had performed the ceremony up on the dais and then abruptly vanished as soon as it was over. Jude knew nothing about him, except that Logan viewed him with pure suspicion, of course.
But then, didn’t she also view Eliana Blake with suspicion?
Jude would have given this a little more thought were it not for the fact that at that moment, a new person approached them. She was tall and statuesque, her natural hair floating around her head in an angelic halo, her gleaming brown skin contrasting against the bodice of her smart lavender dress, which was clearly visible beneath her open robes. She flashed a dazzling smile as she hailed them.
“Henrietta Charles!” she called. “You had me worried for a minute there. I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.”
To Jude’s surprise, Logan responded to the tease with a short chuckle, then carefully slipped past Jude and Eliana to greet the newcomer with a hug.
“Sasha Ren,” said Logan as she embraced the other woman. “Well, if I’d known I had someone to impress, I would have gotten here sooner.”
Sasha smirked and gave her an appraising look.
“You got lost, didn’t you?”
“It’s…harder to navigate indoors,” said Logan with a sheepish shrug. “The smells aren’t the same. Especially when there’s incense involved.”
“Sure, blame it on the incense. Hey, Knatt!” She ducked her head around Logan to send him a look and a wave. “How’s it going?”
“Quite all right,” said Knatt. At first, he stretched out his hand to shake, but, realizing that the distance made that impossible, turned it into a wave instead. “You’ve been well, I hope?”
“Right as rain,” she answered cheerily. Then she turned her gaze to Jude and Eliana. “All right. One of you is an Order Novice, and the other one, let me see…Logan’s new apprentice?”
Jude felt her eyes pop open unnaturally wide.
“Wow, yeah,” she said. “Uh, how’d you know?”
“I’m psychic, of course,” the woman answered, turning her dazzling smile on Jude.
“Probably helps that I told you over the phone who I’d be bringing,” said Logan with a smirk.
“Oh, I knew well before that,” said Sasha, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She stretched out her hand. “Sasha Ren. Logan and I go way, way back. I’d tell you how far, but frankly, I’d rather not reveal my age.” She winked as Jude shook her hand, her long lashes brushing against one high cheekbone. “And your name is?”
“Jude. Jude Li.”
“Nice to meet you, Jude Li. Well, shall we go join the feast?”
At that, the group began to make its way out through the throng of black-robed guests, all ambling forward in the same general direction.
As they approached a set of double doors leading out to the hallway, Jude caught sight of another familiar face: Alexei Marin. His eyes were locked on Logan, though from his expression, Jude might have wondered if he saw a ghost in her stead.
For her part, Logan either hadn’t noticed him—or, at least, she made a good show of looking like she hadn’t noticed him. As they passed through the doors, her eyes never strayed from the path ahead of her.
They pressed their way through the crowd until eventually Sasha Ren turned them off toward a second dining hall that appeared, for the moment, to be a little less popular than the first. Sasha ushered them toward one of the smaller round tables in the corner and immediately flagged down a red-clad waiter and ordered a round of champagne for the table. Jude briefly considered mentioning that she was, in fact, still underage, but with a quick glance at Eliana, she decided not to. She didn’t want to give off the impression that she wasn’t grown up enough for adult activities.
As they settled into their seats and located their menus, Sasha kept up a pleasant stream of conversation. Somehow she knew the right question to get everyone at the table talking. At first, Jude wondered how someone so extroverted had managed to become friends with Logan, who, though not exactly dour, often seemed to view personal conversation as an unnecessary extra. Eventually, however, as Sasha struck up a lengthy conversation with their waiter, Jude realized that there were probably very few people on earth that Sasha couldn’t befriend.
Jude had seated herself between Sasha and Eliana at their table, and as she studied one of the menus they’d been given, she tried to think of something to say to the latter.
Every question she could think up sounded hopelessly ill-informed, every comment naïve, every joke stupid. Finally, she thought she might simply ask her how she’d ended up joining the Order of Shadows. As she turned in her seat to give it a try, a young man with brown hair and thick, square glasses strode up to them and clapped Eliana on the shoulder.
“Blake,” he said gruffly. “There you are! Tiernan told me to go find you. Those of us in the tournament are supposed to eat together tonight—another tradition, of course. Come on, we’ve got a table in the other room.”
“Oh,” said Eliana. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Jude could have sworn her eyes bounced to her first, before landing on Logan, across the table. “
Uh, are you sure I’m not supposed to stay with my charges?”
“You’re relieved for the night. But I guess you can meet up with them after, if they need you.” He shrugged. “You coming?”
“Yeah, fine, I’ll be there in a second,” said Eliana quickly. She gave Jude an apologetic smile. “Well, looks like duty calls.” She looked over at Logan again and waved to catch her eye. “I have to leave you guys now, but I’ll come back after the feast. Do you need anything before I go?”
“I’m good,” said Logan, barely returning her gaze as she spoke.
“Okay then,” said Eliana, nodding. Her eyes returned to Jude. “If you want, I could…give you a tour of the grounds later, maybe?”
“Uh, yeah! That’d be great!” The words came out louder and more enthusiastically than she’d intended them to, but she hoped Eliana wouldn’t mind.
“Cool,” said Eliana. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”
“Sure!”
With that, Eliana stood up, extricated herself from her chair, gave everyone a quick bow, and walked away, following the already retreating back of the bespectacled boy who’d come to get her. Jude felt the tiniest twinge of disappointment as she watched her go. It felt like she’d already wasted an opportunity.
An opportunity for what, exactly? she asked herself. She didn’t know this girl, didn’t know anything about her. They seemed close in age, but apart from that? The only thing Jude really knew was that she was a member of the Order of Shadows, and she seemed pretty happy about it. Jude felt like Eliana was flirting with her, but really, she had no idea if she was even interested in girls in the first place. She didn’t even know how to tell that about a person. She had largely lucked into her relationship with Amy.
Amy. An unwelcome wave of grief and regret rolled through her, but she did her best to force it down. Now was not the time to think about that. Their relationship was over, and that was that.
