Page 89 of Divine Oaths

He’d caught me staring at him once. He ran his hand along the length of my ear, tucking a loose strand of my baby curls away. His cool touch and the familiarity that had bloomed between us often made it hard for me to breathe.

My guilt was all consuming. I wanted to tell him the truth. But another part of me wanted to keep lying to him and pretend that everything was all right, and that his literal soul wasn’t on the line. I craved our moments together and kept making excuses to see him in the spirit of researching how to break the curse. And what’s worse, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to push past my fear of him pulling away, of him accusing me of playing him against Jojo. I wanted him to know how I truly felt, deep in my bones. But I never did. And every goodbye, every parting between us, was a reminder that his numbered days were fleeting.

With each passing one, a part of me died too.

On campus, the first signs of the changing season were cloaked in shadows and cold fronts. Fall was coming to an end, and treacherous winter made its presence known. It eased in at every turn, from the shift in temperature to the lingering bite of cold come morning, from the withering leaves drained of their golden orange and yellowy hues to the shorter days and long nights. There was a somberness to campus. Anticipation for the end of the semester was caught between a sense of foreboding and tentative optimism for better days as finals approached.

Come December, the curse could take him from me.

I debated talking to Jojo about everything. He was of the kinship Vivian and Angelica needed for the binding ritual. But I couldn’t bring myself to. Kasem might pretend he didn’t want his brother in his life, but I knew he did. And if Jojo found out about him being a wraith and refused to help save him, it would mean the end of their relationship. Forever.

So instead, I dialed Aunt Louisa’s number.

She didn’t answer on the first ring. Louisa believed that anyone calling once was a bad omen coming. Twice was fine to answer. Three calls one after another was a loan shark. On the second ring, she picked up.

“It’s me.”

“Of course. Sianna, dear. How’s that school of yours?”

“It’s fine.”

“Do you want to come to my new place for a weekend? I can pick you up.”

I took a seat near the window in my dorm, glancing down at the view of my Poppy housemates heading to campus. Most of them were clad in sweaters or buried in scarves as they hiked their bags over their shoulders and prepared for the tedious trek through the woods and to class.

“It’s all right. I’m staying over the holiday break. But I have a question,” I said. “I’m doing some research about some accidents that have happened on Westfield’s campus over the decades. I don’t know if you’d know anything, but I thought I’d ask.”

Louisa hummed.

“The only thing that comes to my mind is the fire. During your audition.”

I froze. It had never occurred to me that the fire could be considered one of the string of curse-related accidents that had happened at Westfield. But the performance had been on campus that day, in one of the old buildings that had since been abandoned.

“You weren’t there that day,” I prodded. “Were you?”

“No, no. But your mother and father—well, it was the last time they were here with us. I suppose you don’t remember much of that day, do you?”

“No,” I said. “A lot of that period in my life is pretty blank.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a chill despite the fact that the heat in my unit was cranked up high.

“I know a good soothsayer who can help you recall your younger self. Of course, that is, if your powers can’t already do that.”

I sighed. “Please stay on topic.”

“Fine, fine.” Louisa pouted. “You were fourteen, and you got yourself a ride on a fan boat to audition at one of the top schools in the country. I always did wonder, though, if you were ready for that place. After what your mother went through there.”

I brought my phone closer to my ear, unsure if I’d completely understood her.

“Mom went to Westfield? As in my mom?”

“She did,” Louisa said. Guilt bled into her voice. “But she asked that I not speak of it. Made me drink some tea and promise and everything. Promises like that can’t just be broken, you know. Trust me, I’ve tried to encourage you as much as I could, despite that. She said, when the time came, I’d be able to share this part of her with you. I guess now that I’m not tongue-tied when I attempt to mention it, the time is now.”

Louisa hmmed in thought. “Westfield is where your mother learned how to manage her visions. She was part of a sisterhood there—I don’t think they exist anymore, but there were a few members practicing on the low. I always thought you’d be able to succeed there and maybe, like her, learn to control your abilities.”

The information was a whirlwind, and even as I pieced it together, more questions emerged.

“Did you know someone named Angelica Aiken?”