“Are you sure Stella will be all right?” Cora asked after a moment of everyone drinking and thinking. “It seems odd to ask a human to undertake such an enormous task when there are vampire priestesses of Persephone aplenty in this very house.”
It hadn’t really occurred to Miranda to wonder, and she said guiltily, “I hadn’t even thought to ask.” She ran her hand back through her hair, thinking of her friend, who she’d barely seen since Lark’s death. “Maybe…”
“Do you really think at this point Stella would let anyone else do it?” David asked. “She did the Drawing Down, she lost her safety and her best friend, her lover was tortured…all because of Morningstar. She’s not going to back down until she knows they’re defeated any more than any of us would. And asking her to step aside would be an insult to everything she’s been through and learned.”
He had a point. “I know she can do it, and I know she wants to. And she said it’s not the same as the Drawing Down—that nearly killed her. We have to trust her. It’s pretty clear she’s the one who’s supposed to do this…I just hope when the time comes, when she really needs us, we can do half as much for her as she has for us.”
*****
*
Stella had a feeling she was being watched.
Even after living in the Haven all this time, wandering around it during daylight was surreal. It was never a hundred percent silent—there were day guards, though they numbered less than half the full post-sundown roster. There were vampires monitoring the network somewhere, and humans came and went to tend the grounds and do other contracted work that couldn’t be managed at night.
On lonely days, unable to sleep even with the meds Mo had given her in plentiful supply, she used the override code on her windows and peered out at the sunlight, watching the gardeners. She could have gone out to say hello, but there were too many questions that she didn’t want to answer, even if she could.
Now, of course, the building was teeming with newcomers, and not all of them were nocturnal—the Elven refugees glided from room to room in their section of the Haven all throughout the day, but they didn’t interact with, or even make eye contact with, the guards or anyone who wasn’t an Elf. The one time she’d ventured down there they had all but run screaming from the sight of her.
She couldn’t entirely blame them, though what they expected her to do, she wasn’t sure. All most of them knew of the human race was murder and torture—the few who’d been living before they’d sealed themselves off in Avilon remembered the Inquisition, and that was enough of humanity for a thousand years.
And while she knew at least a handful…and probably far more than any wanted to admit…were madly curious about the Order of Elysium, and weren’t nearly as snotty as their elders, Stella didn’t much feel like being looked at like a plague rat, so she avoided that hallway altogether. She did hope eventually that Deven would at least let her meet the baby, or maybe even Nico’s mother. Kalea sounded a lot like Stella’s grandma.
The afternoon of the Solstice she was too nervous to sit still. She was finishing up the ritual room until sunrise, and after that she just couldn’t imagine sleeping, so she stayed up, drank coffee, and tried not to think too much about what they were asking of her tonight.
She and Nico had spent weeks translating the ritual and its diagrams from the Codex—it wasn’t complicated, but the last thing she wanted to do was draw out the symbols wrong and summon…well, whatever the unpleasant alternative was to a vampire goddess. Cupid? A unicorn?
There was nothing for her to do but pass the time. Her only real friends here were all spending the day together, reveling in that connection that no human could hope to understand. What must it be like to be bound to someone, let alone three people, the way they were? From what she’d seen it seemed beautiful and terrible…so it probably wasn’t that much different from any other love.
After walking her usual solitary circuit around the building, she passed by the guest quarters where she knew the Pair of Eastern Europe and the Pair of the Eastern US were asleep. She would meet them tonight, of course; no one had thought to introduce her beforehand. That was all right. She wasn’t in a hurry to deal with any more Big Important Vampires.
The closer she got to the guest wing, however, the more she felt that sensation of eyes on her. It wasn’t unfamiliar, around here, since she was used to being the only human surrounded by creatures who, well, ate humans. She’d never felt any sort of malice, though, merely curiosity from the guards and other vampires who caught sight of her; Miranda had assured her they were well fed on all the human blood they needed, and they knew very well that if anyone lay a hand on her they would lose far more than a job. Stella had never felt unsafe here, despite her father’s dire warnings.
Today the eyes were curious, but there was something else, too…something like awe? She wasn’t sure what to make of it. The Elves by and large had little experience with humans, but surely the Order of Elysium ate something besides deer and bumblebee blood out there in the forest. Humans couldn’t be that much of a rarity to them.
She started to turn back, but a flicker of light in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she realized where she was: the Cloister’s hallway, only a few doors down from the temple they’d built in one of the larger rooms.
The Order was nocturnal, as far as she knew, and would be asleep right now like any vampires, so it was unlikely there’d be anyone in there at this hour. Surely given her history with Persephone, and her place here, the vampires wouldn’t object to her looking in, if she didn’t interrupt anything? Would it offend them to see her there as if she was one of their own?
To hell with it. She’d sacrificed plenty on Persephone’s altar already; if they had a problem with her being there they could take it up with Her.
Still, she moved as quietly as possible to the partway-open door, listening hard, hoping she’d hear if someone was inside before she walked in and caused a scurry.
The room was the size of one of the big studies where the Tetrad liked to drink and hang out, but the usual couches and liquor cabinet were gone. In their place were a lot of floor cushions, trunks and tables salvaged from the Cloister, and a wooden altar draped in velvet at the end of the room.
Stella felt the change in the air as soon as her feet crossed the threshold; it wasn’t warded like her room was, nor was it shielded to contain magic, but it had the sense of spiritual presence that built up in sacred groves, churches, and permanent ritual circles the world over. Anywhere people congregated to offer their love to the Divine in whatever guise they were drawn to, their combined reverence and joy would saturate the very wood, the carpet, the stones. She could feel the energy of quiet night time services, almost hear the chanting; the scent of some incense she almost recognized but couldn’t quite pin down still hung lightly in the air.
She exhaled slowly, then breathed in, finally able to fill her lungs without feeling like she was choking for the first time since the night Lark had died. She’d spent a lot of time weeping and sleeping, but not much time really feeling the vast chasm of loneliness that had been opening in her wider and wider the whole time she’d lived here and now threatened to swallow her whole.
She stood in front of the altar for a moment, looking at the objects the vampires of Elysium had deemed holy: A statue of Persephone remarkably like the one on Stella’s own altar; a bowl of pomegranates, with one split open, its jewel-red seeds scattered over the altar cloth; offerings of flowers and what she devoutly hoped was wine in beautifully worked decanters; and a carved wooden box whose contents she suspected she knew.
Before she could stop herself she reached out and touched the lid, flipping the hasp open and lifting it just enough to see the Darkened Star resting inside.
She’d been told it was pulsating with light, the way Signets did when they chose their bearers, but she hadn’t been able to imagine what that would look like—labradorite wasn’t a gemstone like
ruby or emerald that would let clear light through. Indeed, the smooth stone didn’t flash, it sort of shimmered in waves over its surface. Striations in its minerals were illuminated in pulses of quicksilver, violet, and blue.
It was also a lot flatter than the Signets, she noticed. She’d been up close and personal with Nico’s, and it was about half an inch thick from front to back, but the Star was perhaps half that.
Feeling bold, she picked it up and turned it over. For all that it looked a lot like a Signet on the surface, up close it was more of a flat disc, and it had odd little metal bits on the back whose purpose she couldn’t divine.
She placed the Star back in its nest and closed the box, and just in time, too—that feeling of being stared at had returned.
Stella wheeled toward the door, suddenly angry that anyone would gawk at her here, of all places, and not respect the temple at least—
A young woman had appeared in the doorway, and when Stella caught her eyes, she immediately dropped to her knees at the Witch’s feet.
“What the—get up!” Stella hissed, blushing furiously. “What are you doing?”
The girl lifted her head, and she too was red.
That’s not all she was.
“You’re human,” Stella said as she realized it. “Who…”
“My name is Siobhan, Honored Priestess,” the girl said. “I am leader of the Blood-Bound of this Cloister. Forgive me for intruding on your meditations on this of all days.”
Stella took a beat to process that. “You know who I am?”
The girl nodded. “Of course. The entire Cloister knows who you are. That is why I have come, to offer you our gratitude and any assistance you need.”
“Gratitude…for what?”
Again, Siobhan looked a bit confused at Stella’s confusion. “You are the mortal priestess chosen to help bring the Goddess back to us. Because of you, after hundreds of years sundered from Her, the vampires of Elysium will be able to stand in Her presence again, face to face as they once did. And someday we Blood-Bound will too, if we take the Dark Gift.”
“I don’t…I don’t think I understand. What does Blood-Bound mean?”
Siobhan rose gracefully and smiled. “We are the human children of Persephone who live in the Cloister. Our sacred duty is to offer our blood to the vampires of the Order, and in return we are brought into the fold in all ways but one. Only those who have died can stand before Her. Mortals are limited to visions, dreams, the rite of Drawing Down. For some of us that is enough, but for some…”
It hadn’t really occurred to Stella to wonder what this might all mean to the Order. She’d heard the Elves could make direct contact with Theia—in fact that was one of the things that had hurt Nico so much when he became a vampire, losing that sense of Her Presence that the Elves all felt every moment of the day. And Theia had never been taken away from Her children; Persephone had.
“Ever since the Awakening we have all been dreaming of Her,” Siobhan said softly, her eyes on the altar. “My whole life I longed to see Her, to be held in Her arms. The vampires’ dreams are more vivid, ours more symbolic, but we know it is She who comes. Imagine…imagine it, Honored Priestess. Imagine the beauty and terror of what you are giving back to the Order…back to the entire Shadow World. The Order will grow again, once others realize they can join us and be initiated. And one day I may be held in Her arms for real, not just in a dream…because of you, and the Circle.”
Stella found her eyes burning. The enormity of it hadn’t touched her, in all this. She’d been too focused on the immediate, on Morningstar, the war. The thought that she was doing something bigger, more beautiful, had never occurred to her…even though she, too, had wished she could reach out to the Goddess with her clumsy human hands and find more there than visions and energy.
She might find more than that tonight. This wasn’t just some conference call with another Signet, it was…it was holy.
Siobhan seemed to sense her overwhelm, and brought her a glass of water. “Sit,” she said gently, steering Stella to one of the cushions. “This temple is as much yours as it is ours. You will always be welcome here.”
She tried to thank the girl, but nothing came out; instead she just took the water and stared into the glass.
“This ritual,” she finally said in a hoarse whisper, “…it might kill me. The power needed to build a bridge from Her to here…it’s not as simple as I’ve made it out to be, to the others. And I haven’t let myself think about it, not since my friend died. I’ve just thought about getting it done, about beating Morningstar and getting back at them no matter the cost. But now…I’m scared. I’m afraid I won’t be able to do what has to be done.”
Siobhan nodded. She sat down on the floor cross-legged at Stella’s feet. “If you need power, you need only reach for the Order. Not a single one of us, mortal or otherwise, would deny you. We know what’s at stake even if the Signets don’t.”
Stella nodded, too, and whispered, “Thank you.”
The girl looked at her keenly, and after a moment said, “If one day you decide you need a place to stay, you would be welcome among us no matter where we settle. You are one of us…Stella. You are one of us.”
Stella was crying now, and didn’t try to stop; she took the hands that Siobhan offered her and stayed there in the temple for a long time, feeling the touch of hope and strength she had been missing since what was left of her life had gone down in a hail of bullets.
And for a while, it felt like the hands that held hers did so in token of greater Hands that she hoped would be there to catch her if she fell tonight, and she closed her eyes and whispered the only prayer she could come up with:
Lady, help me be brave.
*****
Midnight, the Winter Solstice.
They crossed the threshold into the ritual room one by one, letting the wards on the chamber recognize and admit them.
Stella was already inside, lighting the last few candles and ensuring all was ready. Miranda entered first among the vampires and caught the Witch’s eye; she tried to give a reassuring smile, but Stella’s expression was all business, both nervous and focused. Still, she felt Stella reach out and give her an energetic squeeze of sorts, and Miranda returned it, wishing she could just go over and hug her friend as long as Stella needed to be held, take her away from all of this insanity, and give her something like a normal life…or whatever life she wanted.
David, Deven, and Nico followed, Nico joining Stella at the altar and conferring with her quietly while everyone else came in.
Cora paused, looking down. “What about Vràna? Should she wait—”
But the dog had her own ideas, and stepped primly over the threshold as if she were perfectly aware of the shields around the room and the importance of the evening’s events. The Nighthound walked through as slowly as the others had, then padded over to a corner of the room outside the Circle where she’d be out of the way but nearby.
As the dog sat down, she looked over at Nico, who gave her a nod; Vràna returned it, and sat Sphinxlike, watching, taking everything in.
Cora smiled and shook her head, and Miranda caught her eye—Nico definitely needed a Nighthound of his own.
When everyone had come in, Stella closed the door behind them, and Miranda sensed her closing the gap in the shields that had acted as a doorway.
The Witch wore a simple black robe, much like those the Order of Elysium wore…no, just like one, the Queen realized. The embroidery around the hem was identical, as was the cord around her waist. Stella must have met members of the Order, and they gifted her with their ritual wear…that had to be a mark of high respect for them. And it seemed that the outfit was helping Stella feel more confident as she returned to the altar, her head high, spine unbent, the same way the other priestesses walked.
“All right,” Stella said quietly, her voice carrying easily. “If you’ll all look down at the symbols on the floor, you’ll see
the four sets of two circles on the outside Circle’s circumference. That’s where you guys stand.”
The altar was in the center of the complicated set of nesting circles, hexagrams, and other geometric figures that had what looked like Elvish Runes inscribed among them. Stella and Nico had painted the entire thing on the floor in white paint, and it was as beautiful as it was baffling. There was definitely an astronomical alignment of some kind, but Miranda didn’t know enough about the stars and planets to even guess at its purpose. Still, it was clear what those eight circles were for—each set of two was close together, and each set marked a “corner” of the Circle that surrounded the entire diagram.
“How do we know who goes where?” Olivia asked. “Is it Elemental? South is Fire, right? That would be Cora?”
Nico smiled. “It’s far simpler than that, actually.”
“It’s geographical,” David concluded. “Not the four Elements, more like the four corners of the Earth.”
“Well, of the Western hemisphere, if you want to be precise,” Deven noted. “None of us are Asian or African. The original Circle was made up of eight white vampires from Greece, after all.”
“Maybe we can talk about the ethnocentrism of our forevampires later?” Jacob asked, sounding far more nervous than Miranda would have expected.
Stella said, firmly, “Places please.”
Miranda took up position beside David in the South; Jacob and Cora moved to the East; Olivia and Avi took North; and Deven and Nico took West. Looking more closely at the diagram, Miranda could see a smaller Circle set into it, also with eight places more closely spaced; and there was an even smaller one with four spaces.
Stella stood at the altar, carefully opening the Codex to a page marked with a long black ribbon. She took a deep breath and told them, “I’m not exactly sure how this will work—there may be a gateway to walk through, you might be transported someplace, She might even just show up here. The text is vague on that point, but it says you’ll know it when you see it. So be ready for anything I guess.”
Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7) Page 21
