A Fate of Smoke and Ash by Shania Scichilone

Author:Shania Scichilone [Scichilone, Shania]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shania Scichilone

32

CHALICE

Once we agreed to work with them, they told us we had to conduct the remainder of our business in a different chamber. I was still hesitant to follow them and accept my fate alongside them. I was meant to believe that they were good and that they were to be trusted. In truth, they were the people I was most supposed to trust. Gram told us about the High Council before coming to the House of Enchantment. My grandmother said that they were greatly esteemed and meant to be our protectors of sorts. They were the keepers of peace and regulation for our witchy world. But following our brief conversation with them, I couldn’t help but question their motives after they made me feel unsafe and so incredibly inferior. They seemed particularly keen on having our agreement set in stone. It was as if they needed to feel indispensable. They were driven by power, no doubt. It made me uncomfortable, especially after having death threatened as another alternative to my cooperation.

Having no choice in the matter made everything far worse. The fact that I had to work with them or face the possibility of them ending my life was something of a nightmare. How was this acceptable? Cruelest of all, how could my own grandmother bow down and agree to those kinds of terms? All I knew was that I was in a heap of trouble, stuck under a rock and a hard place, and I wasn’t getting out of it any time soon. I had to trust that this was my path.

Trudging down the halls, I was out of breath by the time the cloaked leaders came to a halt. Halfway up the building, they stopped at a leaden door.

“Beyond this door is this House of Enchantment’s sacred room,” Moira began. “It is of high honor to enter and my privilege to allow you in.”

“Thank you,” Gram said. “We appreciate your time and trust.”

“We believe you, though I hope you understand that we must abide by Witch Law and demand a valid testimony. We trust that you have prepared your grandchildren for the imminent formality?” Moira mused. Our grandmother had told us about the spell before we came—a mixture of charms and blood to drink from a chalice of truth.

“Of course, Miss Darkmore,” Gram assured her, and we followed them into the room.

It was the inside of a church—old, worn, and full of wooden benches. Directly at the back of the room, a small stage with an altar stood as a central focal point. My stomach churned as I regarded the four shining chalices that gleamed in the candlelight glowing throughout the room.

“Shivalri…” Satyra whispered to me, now standing a mere inch behind me.

“Shh,” Gram silenced us. We kept walking up the aisle, passing rows of timeworn pews. We moved toward the altar, where the cloaked council stood awaiting us.

“Shiv,” Satyra repeated warily. I turned to look at her, and my blood froze. She was colorless. I gave her a panicked look, and she returned it.

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