Page 65 of The Twisted Mark
Mum passes me a glass of fizz and a little plate of smoked salmon blinis before my brain can catch up with proceedings. “Have a drink while you still can. We need to start the fast in a couple of hours.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.How could I have forgotten? Mum had even mentioned it when I’d gone to visit Leah, but it slipped my mind in all the ensuing chaos. I really have been away too long.
I down the drink in one before replying, “You can’t seriously expect me to take part.”
My mum shakes her head disapprovingly and refills my glass. “You can’t seriously expectnotto take part. It’s a shame you’ve never had an opportunity to participate in the Ritual, but you’re back now.”
“And you know we need three,” Chrissie adds, putting a calming hand on my shoulder. She’s wearing her biggest citrine ring. “Leah would have been taking the third spot. But even if she hadn’t betrayed us, her power’s not a patch on yours.”
The Ritual is our annual ceremony to strengthen and protect the Dome for another year.
It requires three strong female practitioners with some connection to our family, as well as the family patriarch. When I was a kid, it was my nan, my mum, and an aunt, until Chrissie turned eighteen and took one of the spots.
The other adult family members and all our acolytes gather to provide support. As I left Mannith the summer I came of age, I’ve never attended. And until you do, no one tells you the details.
The rest of what I know is therefore essentially speculation. But based on the rumours I heard over the years—combined with the secrecy around it and the state Chrissie was in when she returned from her first one—it’s emphatically not something I want to be a part of.
I stare at Chrissie’s ring and try to breathe. “I can’t do it. I don’t do that sort of magic anymore. And I’ve got a moral code I’m not willing to break.”
“Let’s get you bathed,” Mum replies, as though she hasn’t heard a word of my objections.
I cross my arms.
“Come on. The ground amethysts and the pink salt and the sage oil. You know you love it. A nice relaxing purification bath won’t do you any harm, even if you abandon us afterwards.”
“Fine. Just a quick soak, if it’ll shut you both up.”
The second I slip into that bath, I’ll have no hope of changing direction. I’ll be dressed in red and bedecked with gems. I’ll be persuaded to fast and to drink the potion that sharpens our senses and slows down our conscious minds so the subconscious can take control, just like I’ve watched Mum and Chrissie do in the past. And before I know it, it’ll be tomorrow night. I’ll be starving and hallucinating, and looking like an actual witch from a story book. And once I’m standing there under the light of the moon, with everyone watching, it’ll be far too late to refuse whatever comes next.
But there’s zero point even attempting to argue with Mum and Chrissie when they’re in this sort of mood. And maybe the Ritual isn’t as bad as I believe? It’s probably all quite token and symbolic.
“I’ll prepare the bath,” my mum announces. “Chrissabelle, make sure your sister doesn’t escape.”
“How terrible is it, really?” I say to Chrissie. “I know you’re not meant to tell kids or outsiders. But if you want me to take part, surely you can talk me through the basics.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not how it works. It’s Old Ways stuff. Telling you explicitly would be dangerous. But the stuff we gossiped about in our teens isn’t that wide of the mark.”
“Look,” I say. “I know you and Mum aren’t going to let this drop. I’ll have the bath and drink the potion. I’ll stand there and make up the numbers if I have to. I guess I’ll meditate and whatever. But I’m absolutely not going to do anything I don’t agree with.”
“See how you feel when you get there. The moment might seize you. It’s a little unpleasant, but it’s for the good of the town. It’s a small sacrifice in the scheme of things.”
“Did Leah represent the family before?”
Chrissie narrows her eyes. “Yes. For the last two years.”
“I just wondered if this was all part of Gabriel’s plan. Seduce her and be found out, so she would be barred from the Ritual and you wouldn’t be quorate.”
Two reasons for everything.
Chrissie doesn’t look like she’s in the mood for second-guessing Gabriel’s strategies. Maybe deep down, the Ritual weighs heavily on her conscience, too.
“Who knows?” she says. “It still makes me furious even to think about her. We treated her like a real member of the family, and she threw it back in our faces. I don’t know how she could bear to let him near her, never mind screw him. I feel a bit sick if I accidentally make eye contact with him.”
“He’s not that bad,” I say.
To the best of my knowledge, Mum hasn’t drugged me yet, but it’s like I’m already speaking without my conscious mind running a sense check.
“I mean, obviously he’s awful,” I add quickly. “A soulless, vicious monster. But from a shallow perspective, if all you’re looking for is some sex on the side, he’s also pretty damn hot.”