Page 42 of Deck of Scarlets
I gazed down at my own feet in the water. Not a single trace of black could be found when Father Benedict approached.
Was that a good or bad thing for me?
“The first trial is complete,” he announced.
So far, Heather and I, her meek friend Meghan, and a couple of the other girls had made it through. The rest of the room watched with such intensity—especially Josh. I wanted to throw up.
Father Benedict placed a hand on my shoulder. “Our hands symbolize strength and power. It is with our hands that the Lord guides us to salvation.”
Our buckets of water were replaced with a long table rising from the floor, holding silver bowls with more water. I could only guess what he was looking for.
“Just like our feet, we must purify our hands. Ladies, please proceed.”
I watched the others dip their hands delicately into the silver bowls. My slight hesitation was enough for one of the members dressed in white to grunt a warning, pushing me to take part in the next act of the purification ceremony.
Grinding my teeth to hold back a snarky remark, I took a deep breath and proceeded. The water was cool as I submerged both my hands, watching for any sign of the water of black swirls. Mine never did.
“My dear, sweet, Meghan. Unfortunately, the Lord has relieved you of your duty,” announced Father Benedict, patting her back with sympathy.
A quick drying of her hands, and she was escorted from the room without looking back. Three girls remained, including Heather and me. I began to sweat, my anxiety coming out from the shadows to destroy me, cursing myself for not stashing my flask somewhere on my person.
“But the rest of you have clear water. It is now time for the third and final cleanse.”
Once again, the men had removed the silver bowls and long table, only to place them behind our chairs instead. A new set of silver bowls was added—more significant than the hand bowls—to then have us stand to turn our chairs around so the back was to the front.
Father Benedict took one long stride to stand behind us, observing the table. “The mind can be swayed if tainted by those of a negative nature. The Lord has granted us one final chance to cleanse our senses from the doing of others. Ladies, please lean back into the water.”
Heather and the other remaining two gently leaned back, their hair soaking in the blessed water while I sat, a baseball cap hiding my blonde locks. If my water turned black and Heather’s remained clear, I would have no issue dragging her out. And I wouldn’t hesitate to kick and scream in the process.
“Remi,” called Father Benedict.
“Right,” I said, taking off my cap and tossing it aside. With one last look at the crowd before me, I leaned back into the water, my scalp embracing the warmth.
“Kennedy, my dear.” Without another word, she sprang back in her seat and left the room, the sound of water dripping from her hair on the marble floors.
“Tiffany.” A sad sigh echoed through the quiet space, then a door slammed.
So, Heather and I had been chosen.
“Excellent, ladies! You have completed all three steps of purification!” declared Father Benedict.
The crowd clapped in unison; no smiles touched their mouths.
“Now, we shall have you both dry off and enjoy the supper we have prepared for everyone.”
I felt a small hand touch my own. “Remi?”
Heather. Water dripped down from her forehead, and pure happiness radiated from her body.
“Heather.” It occurred to me then; Heather’s participation was willing from the start. I’d never seen her so happy and at peace with what just transpired, and that had me thinking, what the fuck was I still doing here?
She pulled me to my feet, our hair dripping on the marble floor. Finding my baseball cap, I laced up my shoes after drying off my feet with one of the softest towels I’d ever felt in my life.
Josh nodded in my direction before guiding us to another room. What surprised me was the number of rooms the basement of the cathedral held. With doors left and right, I was unsure where any of them led, yet the mystery left me a little curious to find out.
Inside, a long white table covered in a variety of fruits and meats made my stomach rumble in hunger. Glasses of red wine glistened under the lights, while a violinist sat in the corner, playing a beautiful tune. The white capes—some female, some male—sat at a separate table, eating silently. Father Benedict was seated at the head of the long table, motioning for us to join. Heather and I chose chairs next to the scarlet capes, while the men in their prestige uniforms shuffled to the opposite side.
Heather began to pile her plate with fruit, roasted vegetables, and a piece of steak. The food looked more delicious than what they served at the school, and that was saying a lot because they didn’t skimp on anything.