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It was too eerily like last night—when I’d been baptized and Rook, branded.
And yet, there was a calm peacefulness to this one.
"What's this?" I asked Lux, watching as Harmony lit candles.
She turned and looked at Kuru. "This is her altar."
Kuru easily made her way towards the altar as if she could see the way without sight—like she’d walked the white stone path a thousand times. "Sometimes de evil must be snuffed out in order for good to prevail,” Kuru said. “But our acts must be consecrated wid the light, first. We must ask for de blessings of de Bondye.”
As she paused at the altar, she pulled a poppet from a canvas bag strapped across her chest. After whispering to it, she placed it on the altar, then pulled out several items, including a strange and antique-looking knife, and a black and yellow flower. She meticulously placed everything on both sides of the stag skull.
The swaying of tree branches drew my attention to other dolls, hanging from the trees by a thread of yarn. Poppets. They were all old and worn, matted brown, and blended into the trees like camouflage. It looked as if they’d been there for years.
It would seem haunting and eerie if you didn’t know what they meant—a symbol of love and protection for this sacred space.
Pressing my lips in a firm line, I nodded. It was none of my business what Kuru did here. In my heart, I knew that she was a good person.
Besides, after tonight, who would I be to judge another?
I'd come here with murder in my heart.
I would never be able to point the finger at another person again.
And I found—I really didn't care.
I walked towards a now struggling Saul, who was being tied at the base of the altar by the two deputies.
"Summer!" he screeched, his hair and eyes wild, his face pale. There was true panic in his eyes. "Summer, don't do this." He wasn't looking at me, but staring at the handcuffs around his wrists. He flailed them, struggling to get out. "I can't!" He screamed, "I can’t!”
Because of his struggling, the chains were rubbing his wrists raw, right over his scars. He was probably having flashbacks.
“Summer! Please! I’ll give you anything you want. Release you from your contract. Swear my protection over Callie. You can have anything you want."
I stared down at him, unmoved by his panic or his promises. “I want my mom back.”
"You don't know the truth," he said, his voice a high-pitched pleading.
"I'm not interested in your truth." I said.
"I loved your mother. I tried to marry her."
I frowned. "You have a funny way of showing love.”
"I swear it, Summer. I swear."
"I don't believe you're capable of good, Saul."
"We were young."
"You're like, a hundred years older than her!"
"She was young, and I still believed in love, back then. We were destined to be together.” He was still struggling against the chains, his face pale and sweaty, despite the low breeze from the water.
Kuru stood behind the altar now, looking stately and wise. Her eyes were pinned on me, as if waiting for my decision.
"Please," Saul wailed, giving up on his struggle, dropping his hands in his lap.
Funny. Like this, he looked small, pathetic, and weak. Not like one of the leaders in one of the most powerful secret societies on the earth.
