New Moon
December 13, 2020
46 days until the Crimson Eclipse
49 days until the Cantini-Sullivan wedding
My beloved black sea,
You have no idea.
You are not the only one stuck between two worlds. I have one foot in Weeping Hollow and the other on Bone Island with him.
Half the time, I forget who I'm betraying and where my loyalties lie.
My mind is filled with an anthology of morbid and macabre thoughts, and these gruesome ill wishes that haunt me should not sit well beside the innocent and naïve of him.
However, around him, I am not the same single-minded woman the town has grown to know. I am also not the same, black-hearted woman who exists within. He brings out the woman I was always supposed to be. He makes me soft and gentle. He makes me feel loved. So, in the spaces between seconds, I become someone I'm not ashamed of. And we are nothing short of an adored song each time we lie beside each other.
He believes the only reason I gave him mercy was because he is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. Perhaps it’s true, but he was also the first to fill me in all the ways I've craved.
While I’ve taken advantage of him to escape my reality, we've become attached to each other. And if I'm honest, it was easy.
He once said I’d made a mess of him, but this is not entirely true.
My beloved black sea, look at the mess we’ve made.
Alice barged into the bedroom, causing my fountain pen to slide across the paper.
My letter was ruined. I glared at her.
“My apologies, Miss Adora. I’m sure this small hiccup can be overlooked.”
“No,” I shook my head, “you don’t understand. It has to be perfect.”
It would happen soon, where only the silver outline of the new moon would be visible in the midnight sky. The ocean would be awaiting my letter, and there was still so much to write.
I crumpled the paper and tossed it into the waste bin.
“It has to be perfect,” I repeated.
It was still pitch-black when the lighthouse beam shone through the window, casting a tall shadow on the wall. It circled again, and the second time, it caught Cyrus, who was standing over me. He brushed his finger across my cheekbone.
“What are you doing in my room?” I glanced around for Alice, surprised to see him at this hour. She was taking clothes out of the dresser drawer and laying an outfit at the foot of the bed. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost the witching hour,” he said, and I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep, almost missing the New Moon. “There’s an urgent meeting in the Order’s chambers. We have to be there.”
I sat up. A yawn stretched across my face. “Now?”
“Yes. You have five minutes to change. I’ll meet you in the foyer.”
“What about—”
“Get dressed, Adora.” Cyrus kissed my forehead and left.
“Nothing fancy,” Alice muttered, laying a sweatshirt and jeans on the mattress. “I was told only a select few would be attending.”
The floor was cold under my feet. Shadows from the oil lamp moved on the wall behind Alice. “Do you think it’s about the Shadows? I wonder if the Order found a way ...” I wondered aloud, slipping out of my nightgown and into my jeans. I pulled the sweatshirt over my head and tied my hair back into a low bun with a chiffon bow. “This is so out of the blue. It doesn’t make sense.” Then a maelstrom of thoughts hit me at once—ones that involved Lena, my family, and then there was Stone. My gaze darted to Alice, and I halted my pace. “It could be anything.”
And my heart went crazy, hopeful one second, frightened the next.
“You’ll know soon,” Alice said, rushing me out the door.
I met Cyrus at the bottom of the stairs and slipped into my jacket. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s already in the chambers.” He nudged his head to the left, grabbing my hand. “I already have the car heating up for you.”
His 1964 Aston Martin Vantage Coupe was the love of Cyrus Cantini’s life. In the summer, when we were sixteen, we’d taken the coupe on many joy rides going over seventy miles per hour down Archer Avenue until the town spun us around. We did this repeatedly, getting dizzy and laughing until we cried, making ourselves sick. In contrast to others, Cyrus didn’t drift to sex or drugs. Cyrus only needed his best friend.
He opened the car door for me and let me in. Once he slid into the driver’s seat, he sat back for a moment and let his hands fall from the steering wheel.
A grin stretched across his face. “Do you remember?”
“I think about that summer every time I see your car.” It was the same autumn his father got sick, or so I’d assumed. The same autumn Darnell Cantini started losing weight and stopped attending meetings and events in town. I hadn’t known he’d attempted to steal Mom’s magic until Ivy had told me, and Viola had stripped the beast of his magic since.
Cyrus grabbed the shifter. “So much has changed since then.”
Numerous tunnels wound beneath Weeping Hollow in the shape of a pentagram. The only way inside was through a trap door at one of the access points—the points of the star. The Pruitt Mansion, a cave in the cliff, the cemetery, Goody Farms, and the woods behind Town Hall. The Chamber of the Order was located beneath the gazebo, in the heart of Weeping Hollow. Sacred Sea and Norse Woods each had a chamber to handle matters separately, but the Chamber of the Order acted as the shared Town Hall for the covens. It was the only place we could safely gather together.
We drove down Seaside Street to the Pruitt Mansion, parking in their massive driveway. We wasted no time, entering the home through a side door, descending the stairs, and making the journey with only a gas lantern lighting our way. Water leaked from cracks and drip-drip-drop echoed off the walls.
As soon as we arrived, Cyrus gave me one last look before pushing the massive door open. I only took one step before stalling in the doorway.
Before the Order’s table, four Heathens stood with their backs to me.
In all my life, except for Beck, I’d never seen the Heathens without their masks. No one had until their curse broke.
Julian Blackwell, Phoenix Wildes, Beck Parish, and Zephyr Goody.
Four founding descendants of Norse Woods Coven.
I looked at Cyrus with my heart racing.
He grabbed my hand. “They’re waiting.”
My eyes were glued to their backs as I walked, anticipating the first look with a thickness in my throat. This is it, I thought. They had been hiding on their side of town for weeks. What could possibly bring them out of the woods, let alone at this hour?
When we reached the front of the room, I stood beside Cyrus. I couldn’t help my loitering gaze, when finally, Julian glanced at me with silver eyes that scratched up my spine.
I’d seen those eyes many times, but never the face it was attached to.
Julian stood straight with an intimidating posture. A man and no longer a hollow monstrosity, with sharp cheekbones, narrowed jawlines, and a metallic glimmer in his tired eyes. His magic contained the element of spirit, which held the ability to perform magic derived from any other element. Most recently, it was rumored he’d passed through the cell’s bars. It was how he escaped and got to Fallon in time.
Phoenix, the descendant of fire, crossed his arms and glanced at me, carrying questions inside his golden eyes. Stubble shadowed his jaw and upper lip, dipping with his cupid’s bow. He had a perfectly shaped nose with brows naturally slanted downward, giving off the impression that he was eternally moody. He always had eyes that were expressional, never able to hide the hot yet transparent flames that burned within them. And right now, he was wondering why I was here with the men of Sacred Sea.
Although Beck was the shortest of the four, he was far from short. He stood at least six feet tall with a knowing flaring across his face like he was anticipating this night. He was the witch of water, the youngest of the four, and the one Fable and I had seen in Town Square with Milo. There had been whispers about Beck being able to tell the future. Did he already see us all meeting here on this night?
My thoughts halted when Zephyr Goody, son of air, stepped forward, the tallest of them all. A mask still covered the Heathen’s face. Everything else about him was the same: light brown hair combed back neatly and neon, psychopathic green eyes shining. But same didn’t sit well with me, considering he still wore the creepy Phantom of the Opera mask.
What did this mean?
“Cyrus,” I whispered, my stomach in knots.
“I noticed.” Cyrus’s gaze flicked to Zephyr. “Let’s not form assumptions yet.”
Augustine banged the gavel, and my attention snapped to the front of the room, where the Order sat. Augustine Pruitt, Viola Cantini, Clarence Goody, and Agatha Blackwell.
Mina Mae, who looked after the flatlanders, sat off to the side to monitor, wearing a nightgown and slippers with her long braid tumbling off her shoulder.
Clarence Goody was the high priest of Norse Woods and Zephyr’s father. Most importantly, he no longer had a mask covering his face. His nose was long and straight, his pale face thin. How was it that Zephyr still wore a mask to hide his cursed face, but his father didn’t?
“Julian Blackwell,” Augustine said, his voice tired. “Please let the room know what was so urgent that you had to drag us away from our families during a time like this.”
Julian was standing too close for comfort. Only an empty aisle between us. Even with Cyrus beside me, disgust still swam through my bones. Julian paid the right side of the room no attention after the initial greeting glances.
“The Heathens request permission to explore the shores of Sacred Sea.”
“That’s not your jurisdiction,” Kane raced to say.
Julian filled his chest with air, gripping the chair in front of him. “With all due respect, Augustine, people are dying. While Sacred Sea is busy planning a ball, our priority has always been to remove the Shadows.”
“The Shadows haven’t killed a soul in over two weeks,” Viola said, most likely because the ball was mentioned.
“Whatever it is, is still among us. It’s not finished,” Beck countered.
Julian nodded. “It would be a mistake to believe otherwise, and we can’t keep going on like this. We’re all tired. We’ve searched the woods. We’ve read the books. We’ve done everything imaginable and exhausted all of our options. There must be something we’re missing, and there’s only one other place we haven’t looked.”
Julian was straight to the point. No fluff. And perhaps Fable was right, and the Heathens did care about the Shadows. From what he’d said, they’d spent this time trying to find ways to end them. But the mistrustful part of me was determined to believe his request for permission to search the shore had nothing to do with the Shadows. There had to be an ulterior motive.
“Since when did the Heathens start caring?” I asked. Cyrus grabbed my hand, but I yanked it away. “No, the entire town may be too afraid to say something, but I’m not. For years we’ve lost countless lives because of the four of you. Not to mention those who disappeared. We’re not stupid. River Harrison didn’t just vanish into thin air. The least you could’ve done was act like men, own up to what you did, take ownership of the grief you piled on this town, and give the victim’s loved ones some peace. But you haven’t. Weeks have passed since the curse broke, and all four of you are still cowardly monsters hiding away in the dark. Are you telling me you’ve spent these weeks reading your family’s journals while people were dying? Are you kidding me?”
The entire room became quiet.
I was breathing too hard.
The four of them just stared.
“And what have you done, Adora?” Beck asked with a slight lift in the corner of his mouth.
It was a simple question. A difficult question. A reasonable question.
He raised a brow with a smug smile, seeming to know the answer already.
And perhaps he did, but the question was rhetorical, and I was offended that he believed he could speak to me at all. “You have no right—” I started, but Cyrus stopped me. “I think she’s trying to say that it’s been a month since the curse broke and the Shadows came. More than enough time has passed for the Heathens to show their faces and right their wrongs for the community. Instead, they’ve shown nothing.” And I hated how he spoke over me. I hated how he spoke for me. Was this the life of marriage?
Kane tsked. “Their curse broke, and now they think they can run free.”
Phoenix dropped his head back. “Oh, don’t sound so down, Pruitt,” he said, rolling his head to the side to face him. “The bright side—you get to see this pretty face every Friday night.”
“I’ve never wanted to punch anyone more in my life,” Kane gritted out.
Phoenix blew him a kiss.
Julian held out his palm. “We broke the curse. Let’s come to terms with this and figure out how to move on from here,” Julian interrupted. “Starting with permission to search the shore.”
“Broken?” Kane’s head cocked with a dumbfounded expression. “Then explain to me the tall ass problem in the room none of us are discussing.”
All eyes turned to Zephyr Goody. He kept his head forward. Silent.
“Zephyr will come with us,” Julian replied.
“Ha.” Kane smiled, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumbs. “Mask or no mask, the four of you are a disease. Look what happened after the curse broke. Let’s just lay it out in the open. The Shadows are your fault. Every death is on your hands and your conscience.” He shook his head. “You manipulated that stupid girl into breaking your curse, and now you’re manipulating the Order. We should be locking all four of you in the cell.”
Julian looked at the floor with a grin. It wasn’t that Kane’s comment amused him but that it infuriated him, and he was trying to contain himself.
“Be careful with your choice of words,” Julian said, sending Kane a warning glare, his silver eyes moving to Cyrus, then back to Kane. “I didn’t come here disrespecting your family or women, so it would be a regrettable mistake to disrespect mine.”
“Always so grounded in front of an audience.” Kane appeared to get high from his words. A crazed look in his tired eyes. “I wonder who has to die for you to break, Julian. Certainly not your brother or father, so I wonder—”
“Do not tempt me—” Julian took one step out of line, and Phoenix snatched his arm, stopping him. The sleeve of Julian’s jacket sizzled under Phoenix’s grip, smoke rising between them. When Phoenix let him go, a burn in the shape of a hand hissed on Julian’s bicep, the fabric of the wool coat eaten away.
Kane focused on Zephyr, not sparing a second to allow anyone to speak. “Julian’s rise will be your fall, Zephyr. He’s more powerful than you—always has been, always will be—and was born with every quality you lack to make a great leader. It won’t be long before he takes back high priest from you. My best advice is to get your little bitch under control, lest you want to make a mockery of your family name.”
Zephyr lifted his chin, and an invisible hand snatched Kane’s throat and lifted him into the air, his toes scraping the floor. The area around Kane’s throat was turning colors. He couldn’t breathe.
Clarence Goody stood from his chair to try to talk sense into Zephyr.
“Augustine,” Agatha Blackwell insisted. “You must put a stop to this.”
Augustine sat back, for the first time, saying and doing absolutely nothing. After all, Kane had intended to get into their heads while he had the chance. He wanted to reveal their weaknesses and pin them against one another. It was everything Augustine could ask for in a son.
“They came here behaving like boys, they’ll have to figure out how to control themselves like men,” Viola muttered.
“Zephyr, let him go,” Clarence demanded of his son, the boom in his voice shaking the room. And as much as I despised Zephyr, I found pleasure in seeing Kane hang by his throat in the air like a witch from a tree.
“Let him go, Zephyr!” Clarence repeated, his face turning red with anger.
Kane gasped, eyes pooling with fear as his face turned purple.
Augustine appeared bored, for he had done much worse to Kane.
Kane’s body twitched, and that’s when horror shuddered through me that no one was actually stopping it. No one could stop it.
Clarence bolted his arms forward, a ball of air shooting across the room at Zephyr, but Zephyr stopped it with a raise of his other hand and swung the forcefield into the wall.
The stone wall caved and crumbled to the ground, the transparent green ball of air leaving a massive dent behind.
Kane’s eyes were rolling to the back of his head.
“Zephyr!” Clarence barked. “Zephyr, release him!”
Then, “That’s enough,” Julian ordered, and Zephyr cut his eyes to Julian.
Kane tumbled to the ground and hunched over once he caught his bearings, gasping for air. The rest of the room had gone silent, all eyes on Julian and Zephyr.
Even Clarence stood frozen and speechless.
No one had to say it for it to be evident.
Kane was right, more right than I was sure he would have believed. The Heathens already looked to Julian as their High Priest, not Clarence Goody. Even the Heathens hadn’t realized it until this moment.
“Let’s get back to the topic at hand,” Augustine said calmly with a triumphant smile, and Clarence eased back into his chair with confusion written across his expression. “No more magic.”
Kane gripped his neck, relieving it. “He’s a psychopath,” he said from a scratchy throat. “Is this not proof enough? There’s nothing the Heathens can do on the east side that we can’t. There’s a hidden agenda here. Just because they don’t wear masks anymore doesn’t mean they’re different people or that we should trust them. The town is already scared. No need to let the dogs out and bring on more insanity.”
Julian squeezed his hand into a fist. “Augustine, if I may?”
Augustine nodded, giving him the floor.
“Our only goal is to find the answers to end the Shadows. If you’re concerned about what people will think and how they’ll react to us walking Eastside streets, there’s no need. Nothing will come of it. No one will ever know.”
“How?” Cyrus asked, intrigued. “How can you assure not one soul will see you? They will be standing at their windows, watching from behind their curtains. They’re scared, Julian. If they see the Heathens walking along the shore, they may mistake the Heathens for the Shadows, or, at the very least, believe the Heathens are in fact linked to the Shadows. It will cause panic and only make things worse for Norse Woods. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear,” Julian stated.
“We don’t want to search Weeping Hollow’s shoreline,” Zephyr said. “We want permission to search the shores of Bone Island.”