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The Unearthly (The Unearthly Series) Page 4
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Suddenly, Andre was there next to me, putting his coat around my shoulders.
I stepped away from him and let the coat slide off. It crumpled into a pile on the damp dock.
I looked down at it. “Sorry. I hope your coat wasn’t too expensive,” I said as I read the Armani label on the inside.
He laughed. Laughed. What was it going to take for this guy to drive me home?
He picked up the crumpled coat. “Fine Gabrielle. You don’t want the coat? We’ll see how cold you get before you ask for it back.”
***
How cold was it? Really effing cold. I sat shivering on one of the damp vinyl seats as Andre steered the boat. Of course, my being on the boat was the result of a series of events that culminated with me sitting on the dock, refusing to step onto the boat. Surprise, surprise, Andre dealt with the situation by picking me up—again—and carrying me onboard.
Now we were giving each other the silent treatment. And under no circumstances would I break that silence to beg for the coat. Even though I couldn’t feel my nose. Or my hands.
In spite of the frigid evening, I was able to enjoy the view. The castle was luminous. Strategically placed lights made the old stone walls glow a yellow orange. The city of Peel was no more than a cluster of lights along the dark landscape, becoming more infrequent as we moved away from the town.
As I stared out at the lights, I felt the heavy weight of a blanket placed on me. I looked up at Andre and, through chattering teeth, said, “Thanks.”
I wrapped the thick blanket around me, beyond caring that I was ever so briefly nice to him.
Eventually Andre turned the boat around and we docked. I ran ahead of him to the car and asked the driver to crank up the heat, where I sat—blanket and all—and allowed myself to defrost.
Andre got into the car a little while later, brooding. I guess most of his dates usually played out better than this. I bet he even thought I’d stay the night in the boat’s little cabin with him. Ha!
“James, take us back to Gabrielle’s home.”
We sat there in tense silence before he finally spoke. “So I guess that didn’t go as planned.”
“I think you owe the library money for the doors.”
“It’s already taken care of,” he said.
I took that in. “That was quick. I guess. Whatever.”
And those were the last words I spoke to Andre. I thanked the driver for the ride when he pulled up to my place. Grabbing my book bag, I scrammed. It was only as I entered my dorm room that I realized I still clutched Andre’s blanket to my chest.
***
“I am so sorry,” Leanne said before I could even shut the door behind me. “He was really scary. And he intimidated me. Kind of.”
I sighed. I now knew and had seen enough about Andre to understand that Leanne didn’t have much choice. The guy was pretty efficient at getting what he wanted.
“Don’t sweat it.” I walked over to my bed and dropped my stuff down next to it.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I heard about the library. Someone filmed it and posted it on the Internet.”
I put my head in my hand. This couldn’t be happening.
“Oh my Lord, is that who I think it is?” Oliver called from the doorway. “How was your date? I saw the video. So hot. I bet he was so hard to resist.”
I turned, letting him take in my blue lips and unpleasant expression. “Andre is a prick.”
“Honey, what happened?”
I curled up on my bed and recounted my date to both of them, beginning with the library and ending with the awkward drive home.
Oliver fondly patted my knee. “He was definitely after your virgin treasure.”
Leanne nodded. “You dodged a bullet. Anything with Andre tends to end badly.”
I figured that, of course. But in spite of the terrible date, and Andre’s questionable motives, later that night, I fell asleep clutching his blanket and breathing in the ocean and him.
Chapter 5
AT 6:00 P.M. the next evening, Oliver, Leanne, and I, along with the rest of the new juniors, gathered on the grass outside Peel Castle.
Tables and chairs dotted the lawn between the dorms, and candles glowed from each table’s centerpiece. All set up in preparation for our Awakening.
An older woman ushered the three of us to a table. Immediately after sitting, my foot began to jiggle. Curious by nature, I couldn’t tell if I was more nervous or excited for the evening’s events.
Fifteen minutes later, the murmuring of anxious voices quieted as an older gentleman walked up to a makeshift podium on the far side of the lawn. He tapped the microphone a few times, and then his voice boomed over loudspeakers.
“Good evening.” He had everyone’s attention. “For those of you who do not know, I am Archibald Hazard. Welcome to Peel.
“You are here because each and every one of you is intensely exceptional.” His eyes moved over the crowd. “You have come from all over the world. Some of you are in the entertainment industry. Others have competed in the Olympics or made critical advances in science. And a few of you have been touched by great tragedy.” His eyes briefly rested on mine.
“But all of you are truly exceptional for a different reason. I’m sure at some point in your lives people thought of you as strange. Abnormal.”
His words struck a chord.
“Perhaps it was an ability to foretell events. Perhaps it was extraordinary strength or unusual beauty. Perhaps it was a powerful love of the forest, or a bone-chilling fear of fire.
“These are your birthrights. You are the result of generations of magic passed down across millennia. Tonight we will give you the opportunity to finally embrace your heritage. Tonight, we welcome you into our community and recognize you as a member.
“However, during this time of excitement, it is important to remember that you were chosen because we saw true and honorable characteristics in each of you. Empathy. Fairness. Sacrifice. Not all people born with your gifts are allowed to Awaken them.”
Leanne leaned in to me. “Then how was Doris not screened out?” she whispered. I bit back a laugh.
“Many of you come from schools where breathing incorrectly earns you a detention. You will not find that to be the case here. In the supernatural world, sixteen has always been the age of adulthood. The members of Peel Academy uphold this long-standing tradition and recognize your autonomy and maturity. As a reflection of that, we expect you to make wise choices as the young adults you are.”
I was considered an adult? The thought of legal freedom, which I hadn’t thought would come around for another two years, was intoxicating.
“While you will find few rules here, those rules that remain are taken very seriously. Danger is real, and we respond severely to any misuse of power.
“Remember that tonight we bestow on you all a great privilege and a great burden. Never forget that these new abilities of yours come with the expectation that they will be used to promote good and keep evil at bay.
“Congratulations on your great accomplishments, and I look forward to meeting each and every one of you. Enjoy your evening.”
Applause thundered from the crowd as we stood and clapped. And in that moment, I felt like I might actually be one of them. I might actually fit in.
After the speech, dinner was served. I barely touched my food. No one seemed to know what was going to happen tonight.
By the time our plates were taken away, the sky was a deep blue, and the lamplight illuminated our faces.
Professor Blackmore walked onto the podium, clad in what must be his usual tweed suit and bowtie. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment has come. Men, please meet your patriarchs at the north end of campus. Women, please meet your matriarchs at the south. Let the Awakening commence.”
A solemn silence descended as the students were beckoned into separate clusters. Leanne and I followed the crowd to the south, where the “matriarchs” of the group then led us by torchlight—
yes, torchlight—into the castle.
We passed through several stone halls lined with old tapestries and coats of armor. The path descended downwards, underground, through a twisting maze of chambers. Eventually we were ushered into a room.
It looked like a gentleman’s library. The room was spacious, filled with several couches. Books lined the walls. Low burning oil lamps sat perched on small tables. Here and there were marble busts of the Greek gods, miniature ships in glass bottles, a few globes, and several large Greek vases.
I thought it was pretty trusting of the school to put over a hundred excited women in a room full of breakable objects—but that was just my opinion.
Once we were all in the room, one of the matriarchs who hovered near the door cleared her voice. “Ladies, tonight marks the first night of the rest of your life. The women around you will become some of the most important people in your life. Take this time to get to know one another. As for tonight’s events, each of you will see us in a little while. Until then, good evening.” She inclined her head.
Those matriarchs who’d been standing in the room filed out. Once they’d exited, the woman at the door backed out of the room, closing the door with a firm click.
The sound echoed throughout the room. All was silent for a moment.
And then the moment was broken.
“What is going to happen to us?”
“How long are we going to be here?”
One woman tried the door. “The door’s locked. They locked us in!”
***
We didn’t hear from the matriarchs for an entire hour. When we finally did, a knock on the door interrupted our conversations. The door opened, and a severe-looking woman came in.
“Daisy McFallon!” she called out.
Murmurs blossomed throughout the room.
The girl standing next to me hugged her arms. She looked wide-eyed around at the rest of us. I guess this was Daisy.
“I’m sure everything’s fine,” I reassured her.
She nodded once to herself and took a deep breath. “That’s me,” she said, her voice carrying above the others.
“Please come with me,” the woman said.
The room had fallen silent, the crowd of girls parting like the Red Sea to let Daisy through. No one wanted to associate themself with her in case they’d get called away as well.
Slowly, reluctantly, Daisy walked to the door. The woman whispered something to her, and they both left. Once the door clicked closed again, the room let out a collective breath.
I thought I was right, that everything was fine. But I was wrong. Daisy never came back.
Chapter 6
IN FACT, THE room slowly and innocuously began to thin out. Panic returned as girls were quietly ushered out of the room. Some cried when they heard their names called, frightened of the unknown.
“Leanne Summers!” the woman at the door called.
Leanne gave my hand a squeeze. “I guess I’ll see you on the other side.”
I gave her a tight-lipped smile and watched her leave, wondering if and when I would get called.
I didn’t have to wait long. The next time the woman came back, it was for me.
***
“Gabrielle Fiori!”
I maneuvered my way around the several dozen women who still remained and over to the woman at the door.
She leaned in. “Follow me.”
She grabbed a torch from its post outside the room and led me down the hallway.
My heart fluttered as the torchlight played across my chilled arms. My overactive imagination could’ve sworn the subterranean air felt thick—as though it were holding its breath.
Although the passage didn’t appear to slope downward, I had the impression we were walking even deeper underground. The stone walls on either side of us were damp with perspiration, and somewhere in the distance I could hear a dripping noise. Every now and then a torch mounted on the walls lit the dank hallway, giving off a little flickering light.
We stopped in front of a thick wooden door that looked like it led to a dungeon.
The woman turned to me. “There is a white robe in the room. Take off all clothes but your undergarments and put it on. Leave the rest of your items—including your shoes—in the room. I will come back once you’ve changed, and we’ll continue.”
She walked away, along with her torch, throwing me into near darkness.
“Oh, no big deal. I’ll just get naked in this dungeon,” I said under my breath. I walked into the room, which was little more than a fancy closet. Someone had draped a white robe over a red velvet chair. Next to it sat a vanity and an antique mirror. A tiny candelabra and an oil lamp provided the only light.
The door clicked shut behind me. Out of curiosity I tried the handle. Locked.
I shook my head. This was freaking weird.
I quickly changed. The robe was a gossamer, floor-length shift. Gold rope hung from the shoulders. I crisscrossed the rope between my breasts and tied it at my back. Looking in the mirror, my reflection bore an uncanny resemblance to a sacrificial virgin.
The soft glow had turned my skin golden and dilated my pupils. I looked every bit as mystical as the rest of Peel, and for a second time this evening I let myself hope that I might actually belong here.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Are you ready?”
I gave my reflection one last look.
“Yes.”
The unnamed woman opened the door and once again took me down a maze of halls. The darkness was disorienting, and I couldn’t be sure whether we had walked this passage before.
Then we turned down a hallway I knew we had never passed through. Hundreds of gaping human skulls lined the walls, many warped from moisture and time. Water dripped from their grotesque grins, and I had the distinct impression they were laughing at me.
In the middle of the hall we stopped. “You are now about to enter the most secret of our chambers,” the woman whispered. “Until Awoken, visitors are not allowed to see the last of the passage.”
This didn’t bode well—the most secret room was just beyond the hall of horrors.
She continued. “To keep the chamber secret, and to respect the sacred space, I will have to blindfold you.”
“You’ll have to what?” I did not whisper, and my voice echoed down the corridor.
“I will have to blindfold you,” she repeated, looking annoyed.
I crossed my arms. “Why should I trust you?” I asked. I was literally in death’s alley, about to experience a ritual I knew nothing about with people I knew nothing about, and now they wanted to blindfold me?
The matriarch laid a hand on my shoulder. “No one is forcing you to make this decision. You can leave. We are not a cult, and we do not want you to think you have no choice in the matter. That being said, you must wear the blindfold, or leave.”
What she hadn’t said was that if I left, I’d have to drop out. Only the Awoken attended Peel.
I took a moment to consider her words. I was against this creepy, ritualized activity. But she was wrong. I didn’t have a choice. This school was the only link to my past. Going to school here would bring me closer to figuring out who my parents were and what had happened to them. It would give me closure. I wanted—no, needed—to find that out.
I rubbed my eyes. “Okay,” I relented. “You can blindfold me.”
The blindfold slipped over my eyes. The matriarch then took my hand and led me forward.
It took forever to get to our destination, but at some point we stopped. I heard the woman knock on a door, and, after a moment, the sound of groaning hinges. She led me forward into the room.
I could hear chanting all around me. The beautiful harmony danced along my skin, drawing out goose flesh. Inside myself, I felt something loosen and stir inside, reacting to the pull of the words.
Abruptly, the song ended, and the blindfold was taken off.
The first things I noticed were the candles. The
re had to be hundreds of them, scattered throughout the cavernous room. I noticed that many of them were clustered around a human shaped alter. I swallowed.
The women in the room wore silken robes in colors that ranged from gold, to burnt umber, to scarlet, to plum. Perhaps it was the lighting, but they appeared to glow, and the air in between us sparkled, as though it were heavy with something.
Out of the crowd a woman came forward. “Welcome Gabrielle Fiori, daughter of Celeste.” I physically started at the name. Were they talking about my biological mother? I quickly shrugged off my excitement. Celeste was probably someone associated with the ritual. Still, I made a point of remembering the name.
The matriarch took my hand and led me into the group of women. They gathered around me, some touching my hair, others my robe.
“You are here, daughter, sister, mother, because you are a link in the great chain of extraordinary women. Do you accept your heritage?”
Silence. I cleared my throat. “Um, yes.”
“Very well.”
A goblet of some sort changed hands.
“Gabrielle Fiori, we have chosen you. You are exceptional, not only for being a product of your forefathers and mothers, but also for your inner strength, empathetic nature, and honorable character.
“Join our ranks. These walls have centuries of women’s names etched into them.” And heads. These walls had centuries of women’s heads. They forgot to mention that. I guess once you joined, you never left.
“Allow us to Awaken your birthright, handed down to you by your noble ancestors.”
A woman holding the goblet stepped forward. She held the goblet out to me. “I, Anastasia, offer you the wine of the enchanted. Drink and Awaken.”
She extended the goblet to me. For a moment, I could do nothing. The phrase “don’t drink the Kool-Aid” came to mind. But I wanted answers.
I took the goblet and drank from it. The substance was rich and cloying. It had to be laced with something, but the dominant flavor was irresistible, and I couldn’t stop drinking. Without consciously realizing it, I had finished the goblet.