Mystic High ✓

MH │46

In the previous chapter: Ozzy equipped Robert and Oriane with his anchors. They had gotten into the cultist meeting as per Elle's invitation.

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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

"The blood moon?" queried one of the members. There was something familiar about that voice... The fae prefect, Liafaren? "We always celebrated Samhain at the end of the month. The next blood moon is but days away."

Eventually, the whispers died down as the master cultist continued, "Yes, that is correct." The attention he pierced Liafaren with sent shivers down Oriane's back, even though his face was half hidden by his hood. To the fae's credit, he stood his ground. "This is instruction I received from the grandmaster himself. We have reason to believe that conducting a sacrilege ceremony will greatly boost its effects. In fact, he will be attending the ceremony as well. I expect every single one of you to contribute to this."

Oriane noted he kept referring to someone called the grandmaster. Filing it away at the back of her head, she would certainly remember to share this information with Uilliam.

The grandmaster had to be one of the Councillors – worse, perhaps even the Chancellor, himself. There was enough reason to believe he could be leading a group as nefarious as this one from what she could infer from Uilliam's cryptic words.

"Will we have a normal Samhain festival regardless?" asked another attendee with a hopeful lilt.

"If that is what we all want, then I don't see why not. But preparations for the blood moon must come as a priority. There is a list of ingredients for the sacrilege Urien has prepared. He will assign each of you to a separate task. Any questions?"

Urien began handing out little sheets of paper to the member cultists. Some who had received it looked down as it with frowns. Murmurs promptly brewed again.

"This is for the normal sacrilege we dedicate to the Mother during harvests?" asked a female attendee. "The ingredient I have is a bit... alternative."

"Same here," said another. "I'm only a student here and don't have the resources to get... the root of Artemisia."

From the front of the congregation, someone flipped back their hood, revealing—

Oh, it was Elle. Her long platinum blonde hair was recognisable just about anywhere.

She turned slowly and smiled crookedly at her fellow members. "Might I remind you all that we have our clones to do our bidding? We are no longer students or researchers or administrators, whatever you were before. We are more."

Oriane's ears perked up at the mention of clones. What did that mean? For all the members here, had they all duplicated themselves? That might explain why the students returned a bit odd. Were those students all a part of the cult, now? She shuddered at the thought. How many were supposedly 'kidnapped' again? How many had gone to this group willingly?

Oriane hoped her friends were listening intently to what was being implied as this would explain quite a bit about what transpired during the summer term. Indeed, they should have had gone to Doctor Finnell to fish for more information. Darned that she had forgotten Charlotte's suggestion. The nerves over the past day had gotten to her.

The master cultist nodded, "Correct, Miss Lowery. Thank you. Please do not raise your hood for the duration of this meeting again."

She flushed a little, turned back, and pulled the white hood over her hair again.

"Anyone else wants to make a stupid comment?" The master cultist was already reopening the Latin bible, likely to finish the prayer she and Robert had interrupted.