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.
No one dared make another peep.
He started a droning recitation of whatever it was they were reading. It certainly didn't sound very holy. All around them, the rest of the cult murmured along, the older members clearly already memorised the part they were reciting from. Likely because she and Robert were not part of the group, they concluded as quickly as possible.
At the end of the prayer, Oriane was ready to get out of the chamber, nerves wracking and strung. Robert hadn't said anything to her but looked like he had lots on his mind.
Oriane glanced around the chamber one more time. The bonfire was ablaze and sparks danced from it. Still, when cold draft swept through her, she shivered. That was when she noticed Elle looking at her in midst of the small crowd. Her gaze was cold and calculating. Oriane wondered if she was thinking of ways to use her to get at Marian. It only made her all the more eager to leave. Instinct screamed for her to return upstairs.
Unfortunately, she had to quell that desire. As she was about to leave the chamber, she was stopped by the master cultist. He blocked her exit and cleared his throat with a cough. With Robert at her back, crossing his arms over his chest rather menacingly, she wasn't as daunted.
"The offer still stands, young lady."
She shook her head fervently. "I'm not joining your organisation, sir."
"Now, now, I know we got off on the wrong foot. Your curiosity had led you here to our Chamber, no doubt you wish to find out more about us?"
Was she such an open book? The opportunity for collecting information was irresistible. Despite knowing he would try his best to convince her to join their group, there was no way she was missing out. She looked at Robert for support, who was glaring straight at the man before him. Toe to toe, they weren't pleased with each other's presence.
"What do you say, you come speak with me for a moment... Alone. No harm done, I promise in the name of the Mother." From the bottom of his hood, his black eyes shone out and glinted at Robert with an implied request for him to step aside.
Oriane nudged his hand away. When he frowned down at her, she nodded. "I'll be right back," she murmured in reassurance and took a step towards the cult leader.
"No, wait!" Robert caught the fabric of her sleeve and glared at him, growling out, "Five minutes. No more." He let go and stepped back but it was clear what he wanted to do was grab Oriane and run far away to report back to the group. No doubt he was going to do that anyway via the anchor.
Though the hood shielded his eyes again, Oriane could sense the master cultist roll his eyes at Robert's request. After a moment, once Robert had shifted his attention away from them, he turned and led her a little away from the dispersing group of congregates.
If he truly wanted to do her harm, no doubt he didn't have to wait until now to do it, when there were so many around them and Robert to look out for. Of course, he also didn't know about the anchor at her hip. Whatever he was going to say to her, he was going to be speaking to a whole team of people.
With that on her mind, Oriane was at ease as she followed him to a corner. There, on that wall where they stood, was a bookshelf. The cult leader pulled out a thick volume.
"There is so much you don't know." He glanced at the assembly of white-robed persons mingling in the middle of the chamber. A creepy grin spread his hollow cheeks wide. "So much that they don't know."
Oriane blinked at him. Fear slithered in her stomach but she clamped it down. She had had enough of fear. With a soft voice, she defiantly asked, "What is it that they don't know?"
The master cultist smirked but bypassed the question to his clearly prepared speech. "Little girl, I know your deepest wish and your most buried insecurities."
Fear and likely a hint of embarrassment crept up her spine. She slid a finger under the anchor to deactivate it. Her friends didn't need to hear this.
"All your life, you've wondered who you were. All your life, you've been sheltered but kept apart. You've wondered who your parents were and where they went. You've questioned your self-worth and have gotten used to loneliness. When there's a glimmer of hope that you might just fit in, you realise it's futile because everywhere you go, you don't belong."
Oriane swallowed at his words, stepping back. He hit right on the mark. Was he trying to frighten her again? To demonstrate his powers and make her submit to his whims? She clenched her teeth and her hands balled into fists.
The nasty grin was back. "I'm right, aren't I?"
She didn't bother to answer, just glared at him.
"You wonder if I'm trying to intimidate you." He chuckled under his breath and crossed his arms beneath the billowing sleeves of his robes. "That would be correct but I'm doing a lot more than that. I'm showing you that I know your deepest thoughts and therefore, I also know how to answer your many questions." He paused, observing her reaction. She dared not give in to his bait, keeping the glare apparent to hide her own fears. He resumed, asking the dreaded question she knew she should affirm, " Wouldn't you like to know who you are?"
"I already know who I am," she said in an as affirmative voice as she could muster.
"But there is still so much you don't know. I have the answer to your worries like..." He trailed off and rubbed his chin for suspense. "Your ancestry." He grinned and his hood slipped back to reveal his soulless eyes, which held an empty stare. "Mysticism. Information about your great-grandmother. All you have to do is help me with something."
Everything he said struck a chord with her. It was true she desperately wanted those answers. If she could trade her own life for it, she probably would. Her whole life had been a mystery. Her whole existence one that was seemingly perfect. She was seemingly well-cared for. Yet, she was without family, not even a relative or a confidant in all her life. Short as it was, sixteen years with little meaning in life was psychologically devastating for her. Oriane sometimes wondered why she hadn't descended into depression already. Only hope that one day the answers would unravel before her had kept her sane and, perhaps falsely, optimistic - it wasn't as though great-granny hadn't been sending her notes here and there, keeping for her an active bank account...
Swallowing the dryness in her throat, Oriane carefully considered his offer. Here was her chance of finding out what she had wanted to learn all her life. It wasn't as if she was offered such every day. Not even the Chancellor nor Uilliam nor Charlotte and Marian with their tricks.
His cryptic knowing smile made her uncomfortable. It was as if he already knew her answer before she did.
Sighing inwardly, she knew she had lost the battle once he had offered information to her. "What else do you want me to do for you?" she asked in resignation.
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When she returned topside with Robert, he stopped with a vexed frown. Taking her shoulders, he forced her to face him.
"Ozzy said you deactivated the anchor while you were talking to that... to that Zealot," he spat out. Concern marked his expression. "Why? What did he want?"
She grimaced at the mention of the master cultist. "I'm not sure what you mean," she answered, looking away. She really wasn't too eager to pour all her personal frustrations out on him at this moment. "He tried to convince me to join them and said some private things to me." Which wasn't a lie.
She proceeded to pull away from him but he held on tight. "What? That's it?"
"Yes," she affirmed with a quiet voice.
This time, when she stepped back, he let her. They proceeded to walk briskly back to the Student Council meeting room in silence.
While slightly uncomfortable, it allowed her a chance to recuperate her thoughts.
The master cultist had asked her to locate Uilliam and somehow convince him to join the blood moon ritual in just over a week. It wasn't going to be easy given how she didn't even know if Carolina was around. If only the people of this world used mobile phones.
On another note, she was beginning to think it was a mistake involving so many other people. The only person who had the power to help was Uilliam and she had to find him as soon as possible. That way, not only would she get her answers, she would, hopefully, dust her hands and be rid of the situation. It wasn't as if she could stop whatever was going on. But certainly, it was clear Uilliam could. He had to.
The letter, documents, the strange familiarity he was with the situation that Hannah had conjured, and the secrecy all pointed back to him. Oriane was sure all this had been playing out for a long time now. It was only because of her inquisitiveness that brought her to its near conclusion, used as a pawn by the master cultist to achieve some end game.
She wouldn't regret it, however, if, through this, she would get some duly wanted answers. Perhaps even find out who and where great-granny was.
Who she was - besides a mystic. Whatever that really meant.
She knew that, other than this conundrum, she was bound to seek the Temple out. As Charlotte said, there probably wasn't anything here at Mystic High for her. It was disappointing, yet irrefutable.
So lost in thought, she almost missed their arrival at the meeting room. She snuck a glance at Robert, who was looking quite cross with her for keeping to herself. Thus, he was keeping quiet too and ignoring Oriane. Frustrated and heartbroken for needing to retain her many thoughts, she rubbed her forehead with a wistful sigh.
Marian was the first to greet her. Arms flung out, she embraced her. "I'm so glad you're okay. When the anchor was deactivated, we were so worried something had happened. You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"
On that, she wasn't going to lie. "I turned it off," she admitted sullenly, head dipping. "This is the end road for everyone. We need to dust our hands off this conundrum."
They waited for her to elaborate, looks of disappointment and surprise met her own troubled one. Oriane was sure though that involving any of them any longer was only going to cause more trouble. Here, she needed to somehow convince them to back off on the case.
Should she tell them about the blood moon? If she didn't, she was sure Robert would. Best start with that, she thought.
Oriane took a deep breath to steady herself. "They're planning something in a few days for when the blood moon rises next week," she revealed to them quite frankly. "But I don't want to be involved in this anymore—" A lie but she hoped they would buy it. "—Their so-called goal is to raise the social status of elementals above everyone else's. It's terrible. In fact, when I next see Mister McMurphy, I'm going to tell him about it and just let him deal with them. It's too dangerous..."
Marian clapped her hands, delight and relief on her face. "Finally! Someone sees sense!"
Mindful to keep her expression blank, Oriane smiled a little and nodded along. If only she knew what really was going on. After she had done her best to reassure them she was well and that the cultist had merely wanted to convince her of their cause and beseech her help on a trivial matter —which she vehemently denied agreeing to— they returned to fuss over the arrangements.
Marian was particularly eager to remove herself from the meeting room and she promptly dragged both her and Charlotte away. Oriane, glad for it, obliged without fuss.
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