‘No hints. You’re going to love it,’ she said. ‘Trust me.’
It was my least favourite thing to hear her say.
‘Now, look in the mirror.’
The slip of silk Catherine had used as a blindfold fell from my eyes and I blinked with surprise at the girl I saw reflected in front of me. Pinned to her body, my body, was an utterly gorgeous white gown. I’d never seen anything so exquisite in my life. I raised one hand to lightly touch the shoulder straps that curved down around my collarbone in a tasteful V neckline, before turning to admire how the bodice relaxed under the bust, flowing out in a rippling river of fabric. It was lightas a feather, moving when I moved, breathing when I breathed. Not that I was breathing, I was too shocked. I’d never seen myself this way before. Grown up, composed …
‘Beautiful,’ Catherine purred. ‘Just beautiful.’
‘She’s as pretty as a picture,’ agreed the dressmaker, a pink tape measure draped over her shoulders and a shiny, spiky pin cushion in her hand. ‘The measurements you gave me were perfect. Is this for her coming out?’
‘More of a family tradition,’ she replied. ‘But it’s something like that.’
The mirror had three angled panes and I twisted and turned to take in every possible view of the gown. It dropped lower in the back and I could see my shoulder blades moving under my skin as I craned my neck to appreciate the way the skirt fell all the way past my feet, covering half the raised dais and spilling onto the floor. When we arrived at a random home, a couple of blocks away from Bell House, I had no idea what Catherine was up to. Ever a fan of the dramatic, she’d insisted I wear the blindfold as the fabric was draped over my body, calling out alteration instructions while I silently wished I’d bothered to dig out matching underwear. But she was right, it was a surprise and I did love it.
‘Might we have a moment?’ my grandmother said to the dressmaker who nodded, her face filled with the pleasure of a job well done as she excused herself.
‘Emily, what do you think?’
‘I think it’s gorgeous,’ I replied, unable to tear my eyes off my reflection. The soft white sheen of the fabric gave my skin a luminosity I was not used to and just for a second, I completely forgot about all the darkness. The only thing I wanted in the world was to truly be the girl I saw in the mirror.
‘It’s for your Becoming ceremony.’
Catherine joined me on the dais, examining the dress more closely. ‘I wanted you to have something very special. A gown befitting of your destiny.’
‘My destiny,’ I said with a chuckle. ‘Two months ago, the only thing I was destined for on my seventeenth birthday was a learner’s permit.’
‘Things change,’ she muttered, pulling the fabric in at the waist.
‘I know, I have a driver now.’ I took a breath in as she removed a few pins from the bodice then tightened it around my ribs. ‘You still haven’t actually told me what happens during the ceremony. We don’t have to sacrifice a goat or anything, do we?’
‘No, ritual sacrifice has never been part of our magic. We draw from nature, nature is life. Ending what nature saw fit to begin can only weaken a witch. Besides, I like goats.’
‘What kind of monster doesn’t?’ I replied. ‘So, living sacrifices aren’t real? They only happen in the movies?’
Her eyes met mine in the mirror and my hope dissolved.
‘Back to the Becoming.’ I moved the subject quickly on as she fussed with the length of my skirt. ‘You said you’d tell me exactly what happens when we got closer. We can’t get much closer now.’
‘The ceremony itself is very simple, hasn’t changed much over the years.’ She looked up at me from the floor, her eyes misty with a dangerous combination of pride and nostalgia. ‘It takes place somewhere we can see the moon, somewhere we can connect to the earth and the ancestors. In the beginning, we used Bonaventure but since it was built, Bell family Becoming ceremonies mostly occurred in the garden of Bell House. There’s something special about coming into your magic at home, don’t you think?’
‘Specialandconvenient,’ I answered with a smile. ‘Close to clean, indoor bathrooms. Is that where yours took place?’
Her expression turned bitter and she shook her head.
‘My grandmother chose to hold my ceremony at Wormsloe. She was very friendly with the family. Through her husband, my grandfather. Trouble almost always comes through the husband.’
‘You never talk about your husband,’ I said as she disappeared behind my skirt again. ‘I’d love to know more about my grandfather. I don’t even know his name.’
Catherine grabbed a handful of fabric at my waist and cinched it tightly, making me suck in a sharp breath.
‘I thought you wanted to know about the ceremony?’
‘I do,’ I replied, sucking in my stomach. ‘I’d also like to be able to breathe while I’m wearing this. That’s a little tight.’
Her hand relaxed and my lungs expanded, her sorry face reappearing in the mirror.
‘I apologize,’ she said with a sniff. ‘It’s still hard for me to talk about him. He was nothing like my grandfather, nothing like any man I ever met. I’ll tell you all about him another day, I promise.’ She returned to altering my dress, pinching the fabric here, opening up a seam there. ‘As I said, the ceremony is simple. Once we are in sight of the full moon, the granddaughter must willingly walk under an arch, a symbol of her choice to leave her old life behind and accept her magic.’
