Devane shakes his head. “There are always twenty-one. When our physical form passes, our spirit finds another. Sometimes we know our destiny from birth. Other times, we come to that knowledge much later.”
“The World,” I whisper, still trying to wrap my head around all of this. “Wait. Blood of the world… Kirin, remember that passage from the Arcana Legends book?”
Kirin’s eyes light up, both of us recalling the words.
It is said that he who is in possession of these objects, along with the blood of the world and an arcane spell of indeterminate origins…
“Do you think that’s what it means? My mother’s blood?Myblood?”
“It’s possible,” Kirin says. “We won’t know until we do more research.”
“We haven’t even scratched the surface of those prophecies, have we?” I ask.
Kirin shakes his head. “But you’ve made more progress in a month than the Academy elders have made in a decade, so that’s promising.”
“Your destiny is bound to this, Stevie,” Dr. Devane says, setting an athame on top of the book. “In more ways than one. But you are not obligated to serve the Brotherhood, or to continue this quest any more than you already have. You say you don’t want to relocate—okay. But you still have the option of remaining at the Academy and completing your studies.”
I nod and close my eyes, trying to absorb all of this new information.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Baz says.
“I know. Thank you. I just… Wow, this is a lot to take in.” I let out a breath, run my hands through my hair. “I guess… I guess just have one question.”
“Anything,” Ani says.
“What is it, Little Bird?” Baz asks, and I hear the hopefulness in his tone, feel the waves of protective, welcoming energy radiating from each of them.
I look up at my mages, calling up the most somber, serious face I can muster. “If I sign up for this gig, do I get one of those creepy black robes?”
All four of them crack up.
“Oh, absolutely,” Dr. Devane says with mock reverence. “The secret society aesthetic must be upheld at all costs.”
My laughter fades, and I take another deep breath, looking over the friends gathered around me. The brothers.
The Dark Mageisrising—it’s not a legend. Professor Phaines has disappeared, and he’s no doubt in league with those trying to bring the darkness to power—a loose canon bent on stealing it for himself. At least two other majors have gone dark. We’ve lost the Books of Shadow and Mists, and my mother’s prophecies loom large in the distance, mysteries we’ve yet to solve. We’ve got four sacred objects to hunt down before someone else finds them first.
And the five of us have someseriousinterpersonal issues to work through.
But when I look at the mages surrounding me, when I feel their energy, I know Ani was right.
I am one of them.
I reach for Doc’s athame, prick my palm, and sign the book in my blood.
Starla Eve Milan.
“Who gathers here as bonded brothers?” Dr. Devane asks, taking on his official tone.
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“Who spills his blood as a symbol of our commitment to one another and in the service and protection of the first?”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
“Who vows, by his life or his death, by his silence or his words, in this and all incarnations henceforth, to protect the one true source?”
“We, the Keepers of the Grave.”
