“He didn’t die,” Valentine called out from his chess game without looking up from the board. “Just went to prison forever.” He took Victor Hamada’s queen. “And checkmate.”
Gracie gasped, and her unlit cigarette leapt in her mouth. “That’s what we’re doing tonight. Thaumaturgy. Conjuring fire. Rules are the same as always. Everyone makes the protective circle, and if you fail you take a shot.” She looked at Ellsbeth like a snake sizing up a mouse to determine if it could swallow it in a single go. “How about you go first?”
Ellsbeth laughed, but no one else did. “Is this the hazing ritual? A prank? Asking me to do the thaumaturgy that caused half of Pembroke to burn down?”
“And killed three people,” Sora added.
Gracie rolled her eyes. “It’s fine if you’re scared, Ellsbeth. You don’thaveto do it.”
From across the room, Priya shifted her weight between her legs.“Maybe she’s right, Sisi,” she said quietly. “We’ve already been drinking.”
“Don’t be boring, Priya,” Gracie spat back.
“Wait. Priya’s right,” Curt said, and for a second, Priya’s face beamed with the glow of his approval. But then his face twisted into a smirk and he swigged his beer, a ring of condensation left on the coffee table. “We all know rituals should only be performed by completely sober professionals. Hamada, come help me move the couch.”
The couch was pushed back, and the group of them gathered in a circle: Ellsbeth, Priya, Valentine, Curt, Gracie, Victor, Mary-Abigail, Sora, and two more students whom Ellsbeth hadn’t met yet—a short boy with a mop of messy curls and a girl with cornrows braided like a swirling galaxy across her head.
Valentine cleared his throat and stepped forward to begin the ritual, pulling a gold ring off his own finger and placing it in the center of the circle. “All right, all?” he asked. He was a few drinks in, swaying slightly, his posh English accent coming out stronger than normal.
“Step a little to the left,” Ellsbeth whispered to Priya, who shot a venomous sideways glance at Ellsbeth before realizing she was correct and obeying.
Valentine swaggered up to Sora and extended his hand. She placed an unlit cigarette into his palm, and he thanked her with a wet smack of a kiss on the cheek. “Gross,” she said. “You smell like booze.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t love it, darling.” Still swaying slightly, he raised the cigarette to eye level.
“Hold on.” It was the short boy who was speaking, with the curly hair. “He’sactuallydrunk. I don’t want him to burn Gracie’s loft down.”
“God, what is it with all of you tonight? He’s lighting acigarette,Ari,” Gracie said.
“Go on, Val,” Curt said. “But if you can’t do it on the first try, you’re taking a shot.”
Valentinewasdrunk, Ellsbeth could tell, but she was still impressed by the focus in his eyes and the skill of his pronunciations when he began chanting.
At least, she was impressed until his wool vest caught on fire.
“Fuck!” Valentine tore the vest off before the flames began to lick at his skin and threw it down to the floor. He stomped at it until the firetransformed into smoldering embers. “Bollocks,” he said. “That was Loro Piana.”
Curt was already pouring him a shot.
“That isn’t fair,” Val protested. “I did make a fire. Technically, the ritual worked.”
Gracie shook her head. “Ritual isn’t just wielding the correct power; it’s wielding it in the correct application. That’s Arcane 101. Drink up.”
Valentine took the shot while Gracie looked around the circle. “Who’s up next?”
Ellsbeth had been drinking on an empty stomach, and the booze was making a pleasant buzz in her brain and warming the tips of her fingers. “I’ll do it,” she said.
No one challenged her, but Gracie did raise an eyebrow. Ellsbeth glanced at Valentine’s gold signet ring, still sitting undisturbed in the middle of the circle. “Mind if I use your ring? I didn’t bring one.” Valentine just shrugged. Before she entered the circle, Ellsbeth pulled an unlit taper from the candelabra on the dining room table.
She adjusted their standing positions slightly—Gracie was still standing too close to Curt, and the ratio wasn’t correct. “And you—Valentine, you’re swaying. Get out of the circle, I’d prefer fewer focal points as long as they’re standing still.” Valentine took a step back, happy to obey and take the chance to pour himself another drink.
Ellsbeth closed her eyes. She tried to see the ritual the way it would be written out on the page. She hadn’t practiced the incantation, of course, but she knew how it should go. She kept her eyes closed, shut out the world, and began the chant.
Her fist clenched around the taper, her palm sweating. She could feel their gazes on her, feel their anticipation and impatience.
And then the electricity in the room went out. Someone—Mary-Abigail?—shrieked.
But it was dark only for a split second. Not even long enough for Gracie to make a snide comment about Ellsbeth failing. After just a moment, a yellow glow reflected back on the faces of the students in the circle. The taper in Ellsbeth’s hand was lit, but so was every candle in the apartment. The loft was lit like a Catholic mass, and for a moment, the entire cohort held their breath, in surprise and something like reverence. Then came a low, monotonous buzz and the electricityvibrated back to life and the magnificent light of the candles diminished like stars disappearing in a daytime sky.
