“Barry, I know you’re joining us all the way from Virginia.
“Zelda, you’re joining us from Nevada.
“And Mallory and Fiona, you’re both coming to us from our own backyard.
“You are all very different and your opportunities, too, will be different, dependent on your expertise and skill levels. But there is no shortage of opportunity, home and abroad—and my usage of abroad is probably a little different than yours, which you’ll discover in due time. Last time, I said that the True North Society did not exist. That is true and yet it’s also not true. Over the past fifty years, the True North Society has infiltrated every major government, agency, research facility, and financial and informational institution in the United States. And over the past two decades, that has spilled over into the global arena. There are major works in effect right now, and if you reach initiation, you, too, can be a part in what’s being built—you, too, can be a part of history.
“You will each be given an aid to help you through the candidate process. The person standing behind you will be your coach and be with you every step of the way. But your coach can only do so much. You have to take their direction and advice and prepare yourself as much as possible.”
I didn’t want to glance over my shoulder to see who would be standing behind me since I’d never heard anyone approach. The only person I knew was Matthew, so I hoped it was him. But I knew better than to get my hopes up.
“Now, I must require your verbal consent that you want to move forward. This is a life-changing event—a calling that will define the rest of your lives and I must insist you actively proclaim your desire to proceed.”
The president walked over to Barry on the number one spot and held out the microphone.
“I do,” he said, his voice booming throughout the auditorium.
Zelda stood on the number two spot, so she was the next to speak up. “I do.”
And then all eyes were on me. I thought I was frightened the first night, but after everything the president had said about life-changing events, I was more than petrified, not knowing what I had truly gotten myself into. But with all these eyes staring at me, I was somehow even more afraid to back down and not follow the precedent set by the candidates who’d spoken before me.
“I do,” I said and my voice cracked right in the middle of the short phrase.
The president nodded at my weak reply, seemingly satisfied with it, and moved on to Mallory, who gave her bold acceptance.
“Just because you are not privileged to learn the great secrets of this institution just yet, we value our candidates as much as our fully initiated members. Some doors will remain locked until you are initiated, but the doors open for you now are fully open. We are all sisters and brothers and we rest our lives in each other’s hands. We are bound by the very survival of human existence and no other group on Earth can make such a proclamation.
“So, before you leave today and start your journey as a candidate of the True North Society, you will be bound in blood to signify that we are all one.”
Two other figures stepped forward from the cluster of seven in robes—the one with the red devil mask and the one with the white wolf mask. They walked over to a small wooden table positioned by the edge of the stage. One of the spotlights followed them. On the table was a crystal decanter with some type of dark liquid inside, a golden chalice, a large stone basin with a neatly folded towel beside it, a clear pitcher filled with what looked like water, and a double-bladed dagger.
The figure with the devil face picked up the golden chalice and the figure with the wolf face picked up the dagger.
My heart began to beat heavier and faster as they approached. And as they did, the large audience in the auditorium rose. They were going to start with Mallory, who didn’t look quite as confident anymore.
“Hold out your left hand,” the man with the wolf face commanded.
She hesitated, but soon did as she was bid.
With his free hand, the man with the wolf face turned her hand palm side up, then held it steady. He brought the tip of the dagger to her palm.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one,” he said and slid the dagger across Mallory’s palm; immediately, the blood began to flow.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one,” the audience and remaining figures onstage boomed in unison.
Mallory clenched her hand and held it over the golden chalice. Crimson droplets splashed into it. When a small puddle had formed, the figure with the devil face handed her a white hand towel from beneath his cloak, and they both moved on to me.
“Hold out your left hand,” the man with the wolf face repeated.
Instead of holding it out, I clenched both hands tightly into fists. All the muscles going up my arms tensed as I stood there, frozen.
The man with the wolf face repeated his command, slower this time.
I felt a slight nudge from behind, and someone whispered in my ear. “It’s okay.”
I recognized the voice as Matthew’s which succeeded in slightly calming my nerves.
I slowly unclenched my fists and reluctantly lifted my left arm, knowing to have my hand palm up.
The man with the wolf face held my hand steady as he brought the tip of the dagger to my overly sensitive and exposed skin.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one,” he said and slid the blade across my palm, leaving a red trail in its wake.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one,” everyone shouted in unison, even louder this time.
Like Mallory, I was instructed to ball my hand into a fist and hold it over the golden chalice. Warm blood dripped from my extended hand and mixed with hers.
As I gazed into the small pool of blood, I felt a cold sweat creeping to the surface of my skin. The overhead lights seemed to dim. My head suddenly became increasingly heavy. And then the stars came out.
Oh no…not now.
“You don’t look so well,” Mallory said with mocking concern.
The figure with the devil mask was offering me a towel for my hand, but I wasn’t concerned with stopping the bleeding any longer.
Don’t lock your knees.
Everything was quickly fading to black. I reached out only to find open air.
“I’ve got her,” a voice said, but I couldn’t distinguish whose.
I was already falling.
13
Matthew
By the time Fiona awoke, I had a pillow under her head and a damp towel on her forehead.
She gazed up at me incredibly confused for a moment, then the events of the last few minutes must have hit her. She soon realized my hand was in hers, applying pressure with a fresh towel to the gash across her palm. Blood on the new dress made dark splotches, splashes on the silver shoes, and patches on the floor around us. I tried to keep my focus on her worried face.
The assemblymen tasked with the binding ritual were now in front of Barry.
President Bolt in the plague doctor mask was watching us intently. I knew she was skeptical of Fiona being admitted into the Society due to criticisms and lobbying from other members of the assembly, and this certainly wasn’t helping—it wasn’t helping her cause and mine for insisting on being her coach, something I’d only done once before.
Fiona looked mortified, like she wanted to cry, but didn’t. Her hand was trembling in mine, but she was determined to remain strong.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ve got you. You will get past this.”
“Are you sure?” Fiona whispered back. “They’re all still looking at me, aren’t they?”
“You can’t quit now, so you might as well get back on your feet and fight.”
“Who says I can’t quit.”
“I do.”
“Bound in blood! Bound as one!” The thunderous declaration shook the entire stage floor.
“I will never be bound to the likes of you,” Mallory said subtly over the storm.
“Then you won’t get in,” I shot back at her.
My
comment made Fiona smile, but amidst this small joy, tears finally began to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. Instead, she glared back at Mallory as she sat up, and then with a little help from me, gradually rose to her feet. In the process, she kicked off her shoes and stood barefoot between the other candidates, defiantly standing in her own blood.
The assemblyman with the wolf face, still standing before Barry, brought the blade of the dagger to his own palm, sliced it without hesitation, and spilled the blood into the chalice to mix with the contributions from the candidates. He presented his maimed hand to everyone before covering it with another white hand towel.
I hadn’t been a part of this ceremony in over fifty years, and all this now reminded me of why. I did my best to keep my attention off all the blood.
This wasn’t a good idea…
Afterward, the assemblyman with the devil face and the other with the wolf face walked back to the table at the edge of the stage. The wolf-faced one washed the blade of the dagger in the basin using water from the pitcher, then set it on the table. The devil-faced man poured the dark liquid into the chalice, then carefully swirled the contents.
The two men returned to the candidates, this time with only the filled chalice between them. Again, they stopped at Mallory first.
“Drink,” the assemblyman with the devil face said, offering her the golden cup. “Drink and be one,” he said, and the chorus of a thousand followed.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one,” the crowd roared.
Mallory took the cup, which shook ever so slightly in her hand. The audience wouldn’t have been able to see her fear, but I could—and I was pretty sure Fiona noticed it too. After a glance over at Fiona and me, she took a sip so small, I wasn’t sure if she actually drank anything at all and handed the chalice back to the red devil assemblyman.
I knew she was going to try to get away with as much as she could, just like her father and brother, which had always been a pet peeve of mine. But I was bound to them too, so we all had to ultimately work together.
Both men stepped to Fiona and presented her with the chalice. She seemed so much shorter and smaller now she was standing before them barefoot, the ominous figures of the assemblymen overshadowing her.
She took it with her non-injured hand, peered inside and made a face. I could only guess what she was thinking, probably afraid she’d gotten herself into some vampiric cult, aiming to sacrifice her. I knew she could ultimately handle the truth when it was finally presented, but I feared her reaction in the short term.
“Drink and be one,” he said, and the audience repeated.
“Bound in blood. Bound as one.”
The chalice shook in her hand as she raised it to her lips. Both men stared at her intently, just as critical as President Bolt had been. She took a sip—tentative, but a real sip, unlike Mallory. She coughed as she lowered the chalice and handed it back to the assemblyman with the devil mask.
He took the chalice from her, nodded, and systematically moved on to Zelda. She drank willingly, as did Barry. I could see Fiona visibly relax her shoulders, though she was still struggling with a cough.
“Keep it down,” I whispered into her ear.
She nodded, her uninjured hand still at her mouth.
“You’re doing fine,” I said and patted her on the shoulder.
I knew she didn’t believe me, but all I could do was continue to reassure her—keep her from running out on the whole thing, thinking it was all a big mistake. I knew she wouldn’t in the end, but figured I would be playing an important role in keeping her here and on track.
“There,” President Bolt said when the devil and wolf returned to the cloaked group. “Now we are all bound as one and it is time to begin. I wish you the best of luck during your training and trials, and I will see you again upon your completion—at which time I will congratulate you, remove my mask, and shake your hand. Until then, follow the directions of your coaches and remember you were chosen for a reason. Believe in yourself first. Everything else will follow.”
When the president finished her speech, all the spotlights went out at once. The curtain came together and the seven masked figures sank back into the shadows from which they came. Overhead lights came on once the cloaked figures had departed. Everything was quiet again.
I hurried to retrieve more towels and began mopping up the mess on the stage floor. I needed this blood gone. It was not safe—for anyone.
“At least let me help you,” Fiona said.
“Take care of your hand for now. I’ve got this,” I said. “You should probably go sit down. I don’t want you fainting again.”
“I’m fine now,” she insisted.
Mallory dabbed the tip of one shoe in a small puddle of Fiona’s blood and drew a long merlot smear along the floor. “So gross.”
Aaron, her coach, guided her away before any more blood was spilled. I was tempted to do the honors, but knew how much I had to control my anger. Fiona looked a little murderous as well, which helped my composure.
Instead of taking a seat at the back of the stage, Fiona walked up to the closed curtain, found an overlap, and peeked into the auditorium. I knew she’d find it mostly empty by now. We had our ways of making it look like magic. She was shivering by the time she let the curtain fall back into place.
Once the stage was once again clean, I led her back to the hallway. Barry, Zelda, and their coaches were talking. Mallory and Aaron had left as soon as possible, as I’d expected. I introduced Fiona to who was left: Barry and Mac—Barry’s coach—and Zelda and Anderson, who was Zelda’s coach. These candidates had been on our radar for some time, Fiona and Mallory since they were young; they were only now turning eighteen. Barry and Zelda were found to fill specific recent gaps in our organizational structure. And what the candidates didn’t know was that this would be the last candidate class the True North Society would ever have.
“I hope you’re all ready to get real cozy together,” Mac said with a laugh. “You guys will be going through a lot together... that is, if you make it through, of course.”
“Where did the other girl go?” Zelda asked, obviously referring to Mallory.
“She’s a special breed,” I said.
“Look who’s talking,” Anderson commented, not maliciously, but I still gave him a warning glare.
“How are you feeling?” Barry asked Fiona.
“Better now,” she said, her cheeks starting to flush again. “There’s just something about my own blood and sharp objects.”
“Hopefully, this was the worst of it.” Zelda said.
The other coaches shared glances and knowing smiles. The worst of it? This was just the beginning.
“Barry, you’re coming from a long way,” Fiona said, desperate to change the subject and get the attention off herself.
“Yeah; I was warned—the second time,” Barry said, eying his coach.
“You’ll love it here,” Mac said with a smirk and clapped his candidate on the shoulder. “Sunshine and a mild seventy-two degrees every day. What’s not to love? Right, Matthew?”
“Most people can’t complain,” I said. “Let’s get you guys cleaned up.”
14
Fiona
The three of us candidates were led up a few flights of stairs and into what looked like a doctor’s office. Inside, there was a young guy who looked somewhere above twenty, wearing khaki pants and a seaweed green polo shirt. He had pale, pointy features and straight black hair combed to one side.
“Hey, Kelly,” Mac said. “I didn’t think you’d be in here this time of night.”
The guy stared at me a little too long before glancing at the rest of the group and addressing Mac. “Yeah, well… when duty calls.”
“We’ll stay out of your way,” Anderson said, heading toward the supply cabinet and retrieving some medical supplies.
“The branding ceremony,” Kelly said, taking a look at my hand. “That’s not its official title, but it
’s what I like to call it. It looks like they got a little carried away with you.” He was looking at my soiled dress…or maybe just me wearing it.
“This is Kelly. One of our infirmary techs,” Matthew said, standing close to me.
“I do a lot more than that, but whatever,” Kelly said. “I can take care of this one.” He looked nervously at Matthew, like he was asking for permission.
“You’re the expert,” Matthew said. “You should probably do all of them since you’re here.”
Anderson dropped the medical supplies on a nearby mobile table. “Knock yourself out, Kelly.”
“These are our newest candidates—Barry, Zelda, and Fiona. There’s one more, Mallory, but Aaron stole her away.”
“So, you’re the infamous Fiona,” Kelly said, starting with me by bringing over some disinfectant, bandages, and tape.
“I didn’t know anyone thought of me as infamous,” I said.
“That’s just Kelly. He has a flair for the dramatic,” Mac said and laughed.
Kelly gave Barry’s coach a seething glare, but didn’t respond. He silently worked on bandaging up my hand. “Did you upset someone? Your cut’s deeper than normal,” he commented as he finished wrapping my hand in gauze. “A few butterfly bandages will help it heal and reduce the scar.”
“One more to add to the collection,” I said, even though I didn’t want to call more attention to my other markings.
“It shouldn’t be too bad. Branding ceremony.” Kelly showed me his left palm and the thin silver line stretching across it. “See? We all have to go through it.”
I reached out and trailed a finger along his scar, then looked up at Matthew. “Let me see yours.”
Matthew balled both hands into fists. “I don’t have one,” he said.
“You don’t?” I asked. “But—”
“It was different for me,” he snapped, like I had offended him.
“Sorry,” I muttered and turned back to Kelly.
“You’re good as new—well, almost,” Kelly said and produced a warm, yet awkward smile. “Fiona, I can’t get over it. You look so much like—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, now looking past me. “Like an old friend of mine,” he said.
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