“This just makes so much sense,” Sophie said, tapping a finger against her lips. “Of course it’s you. Whywouldn’tit be? You’ve been with us all along, haven’t you, Agnes? We should do the ritual. Tonight. Now, even, if you’re willing.”
“But aren’t you upset? Or worried? About what happened with my ancestor?” I blinked at her. “Like, it seems like all of this bad stuff is because of us. I mean, my family.”
“Do we even know what really happened?” Lachlan asked, tilting his head at me.
“No, not really. Not yet, at least. But it doesn’t sound good. I…” I stopped myself from blurting out how my bloodline was cursed. It was the missing piece that Graham wanted to know, and I knew there was no way Lachlan would keep it from him. He wouldn’t understand, not really, what I was trying to do to save Graham.
“Then don’t you think it is a little ridiculous to shoulder the entire blame for a massively intricate and deeply threaded magickal spell that’s held Loren Brae in its web for centuries?” Archie barked at me.
I mean, when he put it like that, I could see his point.
“We’ll figure it out,” Sophie said, clapping her hands together. “But we should do this, right? Like, is there anything stopping us from doing the ritual now?”
“Just the lass herself. If she wants to.” Archie nodded to me.
I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t anywhere close to ready. A few hours ago, I’d been eating scones with Graham and trying not to kiss him, and now I was meant to join the Order?
But what was the alternative? Keep running? Keephiding from the curse, from my family’s legacy, from everything I’d been avoiding for years?
I thought of Graham and the way he looked at me like I carried the sun. The way he kept showing up, kept pushing, kept believing I was worth fighting for.
Someone had to fix this.
And it appeared that someone was me.
“I think it has to be me. Even if I die trying,” I murmured.
“Och, the dramatics of it all. I can’t help myself, I just love a baddie.”Quilliam gasped, and despite myself, I laughed.
“When did you learn what a baddie is?” My lips quirked as I stared at the wee book wyrm. Apparently, he was up on current vernacular.
“Hilda has been stocking the library with new books. A particular favorite is Fourth Wing.”
“Because dragons, right?” I smiled at Quilliam.
“Naturally.”Quilliam pirouetted, and I looked up at the others.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
“Excellent. I’ll get our coats!” Sophie raced from the room, Sir Buster barking at her heels.
“He’s a feisty one, isn’t he?”Quilliam asked, shaking his head after the dog.
The ritual took longerthan I expected.
We walked the four corners of MacAlpine Castle’s grounds, carrying burning torches in our hands. It all felt ancient and medieval, and I supposed it was. The rite had been passed down for centuries now, and hopefully I’d be the one to change the course of Loren Brae’s future.
No pressure or anything.
At each cardinal corner of the estate, Archie lit a bundle of dried thistle, and I spoke the words he’d prepared.
“I, Agnes Wright, the Bookkeeper of the Order of Caledonia, announce my arrival.”
The first time, my voice shook. The second time, it steadied. By the third corner, something had shifted and what felt like a low hum of power warmed me.
“It recognizes you,”Quilliam murmured from my shoulder.“The land remembers the Wrights, even if the people forgot.”
At the fourth corner, overlooking the loch, I finished the declaration.
