* * *
Restoration Daydawned bright and sunny despite the chill. While Nightsbridge planned a memorial for the student they’d forgotten for the past eight months, my friends and I made our way into the atrium for the ceremony that would return their connection to the Weave and where, hopefully, my journey toward assimilation would begin.
The atrium was hidden inside a huge domed building that sat behind Trinity Tower. With its many tall windows and a partial glass roof, it was designed to let in both sun and moonlight, elements essential to many Arcanus spells and rituals.
I’d passed this building several times in the past few weeks, always pausing to admire the white stone statues that framed the doorway. Two women wearing flowing robes, arms outstretched toward a stone bust of another woman, which was set above the doors. All three looked upward, their faces serene and expressionless.
There was something compelling about the figures that had me stop and stare each time. So now, as Heidi Embercrest led us up the steps to the sanctum, I took a moment to get a closer look.
The statue to my left had something wrapped around her arm. A slender ribbon or thread? No irises had been etched into the stone for her eyes, but I got the impression they were still open. The one to the right had no irises either. Like the figure on the left, she reached up toward the bust above the door with one hand, her other held at her side, fingers folded so that only the index and middle finger were on display, as if she were indicating the number two.
The bust above the door had no arms, but it did have irises that stared upward. I’d asked Dori who the statues were, and she’d had no idea.Just statues, she’d said. But the tightening at my nape as I passed them now told me different.
Heidi pushed open the heavy wooden doors and strode into the building. “Come along,” she said.
The room beyond was marble-tiled, filled with glass and sunlight, flowers, and fountains of running water. The air was thick with a floral aroma that struggled to mask the acrid scent of magic. Magic that hummed in the air in greeting. It pricked my skin in welcome, urging me to come forward.
My body reacted with yearning anticipation, just like it had to the wards at the Border House. Excitement and nerves held hands and danced in my belly.
Heidi led us to a beautifully carved rosewood wheel, balanced horizontally on a stone plinth in the center of the room. Arcane symbols and images I’d never seen before were etched into the wood. They seemed to shift and move beneath the buttery sunlight.
“Place your hands on the wheel,” Heidi instructed. “It represents the eternal cycle of creation. The infinite power of the Weave.”
Dori was the first to oblige, and we all followed suit. A gentle buzz kissed my fingers when I made contact, and my stomach contracted. I blew out a shaky breath and smiled across at Dori, who dropped me a reassuring wink.
“The Weave gives, and the Weave takes,” Heidi said, her voice echoing eerily around us. “But here, at Nightsbridge, we do not tolerate the abuse of power. One infraction, and you may be marked and forgiven. Two, and you may be marked and forgiven. A third time and youwillbe Weaver-Marked. But abuse your power a fourth time, and you will be Unraveled.”
My gaze flitted to Benedict, who’d gone decidedly pale. He was on his second infraction after all.
“Ironhart, you have been twice warned,” Heidi confirmed. “Be wary.” Benedict gulped and nodded. “And now, your marks will be taken, and your power returned. For you, Anamaya, this is the lifting of the veil. It may feel odd, but don’t be afraid.”
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
She began to chant words in a tongue I didn’t know. But the wood beneath my fingers warmed, and the symbols began to glow. The air at the center of the wheel rippled, and a sleek blue cat materialized. Clary’s eyes lit up at the sight, her face breaking into a huge smile. “Mimi!”
A familiar?Clary’sfamiliar.
Mimi leapt lightly off the wheel and onto Clary’s shoulder, curling her small body around Clary’s neck before nuzzling her face to her cheek. Clary giggled. “I missed you, too.”
“You may step back, Tavona,” Heidi said.
Clary released the wheel and took a step back.
Heidi began to chant again, and once more the wheel heated, symbols shifting and moving across its surface until the center shimmered and a white cat appeared. The black patches on its fur resembled a waistcoat and tie. Larger than the blue cat, it glared at everyone before padding over to Dori, bumping her arm with his head, then leaping off the wheel as if to say,come on then.
Dori rolled her eyes. “Someone is in a mood.”
Heidi stopped chanting and nodded at Dori, who released the wheel and joined Clary a few feet away.
“Come on, Mr. Twiggins,” Dori called.
Mr. Twiggins ignored her in favor of grooming his paws. This cat had attitude—much like his mistress.
Heidi started up her chant again, and this time my hand began to tingle.
A pricking sensation traveled up my arm, the pressure and sharpness almost…uncomfortable. A memory from a long time ago filled my mind, the feeling of a dead leg waking up. Pins and needles! Wait…what was happening? Was this real? Did I have pins and needles in my arm? I mean, I couldfeelthem. The prick and stab and… Oh Trinity!
Panic warred with exhilaration, leaving me dizzy.
