“Not just some other world,theother world. The world of Being, where your soul could live on forever, influencing every action of this world for all of time. Objects fracture the soul when it needs unification to be pure for the One. Removing those limitations by unbinding is the fastest, most direct way to get to the world of Being.”
Dr. Robetresse clenched and unclenched her hands to stop their shaking, her usual calm authority knocked off balance. “You’re with Britton, then. They set you up to this? Did they want to see me fail so badly they sent some cult leader to defy me?”
“My dear, Britton could never,” he said. “We are our own. We have existed before that silly little school was even a thought, was even a murmur. We have existed before time itself. Our one purpose is to keep safe the Book, to carry on His word. To purify the souls of the world through mathematics and His teachings.” He looked to me.
“We have kept the Book safe for centuries, and we will not stop now.” The door to the cottage swung open, showing the brothers lined up outside the door. At least thirty of them, and more still coming, all clad in black robes. A chill shot down my spine.
They drew the shape of aYacross their brows and started a low chant.
The Pythagorean Letter two ways spread,
Shows the two paths in which Man’s life is led.
One of them tipped his hood back so I could see him and grinned. Grant. I looked at Max, frowning, when the realization dropped like a stone in my stomach.
Of course.
The gruesome meme he’d posted of Maya, standing before two paths. The curling snake symbol of snakes formed into a Y I’d seen in Basile’s office. S joining a mystery school thousands of years ago run by a man “famed for his wisdom,” who had all these rules for initiation and prized mathematics and an understanding of the world and all its mysteries. And the interview on the Dawn Underground, the mention of Pythagoras’s belief in “immortality of the soul” and its transmigration into a new body upon death.
“S’s teacher was Pythagoras?” I nearly whispered it, but Basile looked at me, a cold glaze over his eyes, before turning to the crowd to address them.
“Brothers! Today, you are all Mathematici! Let us not stop now, when everything we want is within reach. Danica has done it. She has ascended to the realm of immortals. And we can, too. Think of it, my brothers! To be immortal. Never forgotten. Never discounted. Never ignored.” He raised his arms in the air.
“Don’t you want them to hear you?”
They chanted in unison. “Katharí psychí!”*
He spread his arms wide, lovingly, as if embracing them all. “Danica accepted that if she died in the process, we have still given her a great gift. We have united her soul so she may live on in the beyond forever.”
“A gift?” I spat. “You’ve nearly killed her.”
Basile’s face was set in a firm line. “Dani isn’t just some poor, overlooked, under-loved girl anymore. I made her matter. I made her a god.” He turned to the crowd again. “And I can do the same for any of you. Power is there for all of us, if only we reach out and take it. Remember, my Mathematici, a man must be made good, then a god.”
Screams came from outside the cottage as the group tussled with students. Grant cast a spell that threw a girl across the yard. A freshman was surrounded by three of them, sporting a bloody nose. Dr. Robetresse looked to the other council members and closed her eyes, summoning her Magic. “Perez, de Vries, Nguyen, with me.” Dr. Robetresse and the council members rushed into the crowd, clashing with the brothers. Max tackled a brother trying to rush into the room.
Besides the conduits, Basile and I were the only ones left in the room. I positioned myself between them and him.
“It’s over, Basile. You’re not getting away with this.”
He smiled, and the curl of it reminded me of smoke. “You can’t stop us. Even Aaron believed in us. The poor thing was so desperate for any type of belonging, we barely had to offer more than an outstretched hand. He drank up our teachings almost as readily as you did. Unfortunately, unlike you, he didn’t take as easily to the spell.” He reached a hand beneath my chin and whispered, “It’s a shame that he wasn’t as strong as you. Didn’t have the stamina.”
My voice quivered. “You’re lying.”
“We couldn’t have him ratting us out, could we? Poor thing, the Magic was too much for him. I imagine it drove him to the untimely end you witnessed. Terrible waste.”
“I’ll kill you,” I whispered, my hands shaking with rage. I closed my eyes and called my Magic to me.
But before I could, something slammed into my side. Searing pain flashed against the side of my head, and the last thing I saw was Basile, looking down at me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
7 Hours Until Sunset
When I opened my eyes, Basile wasn’t in the cottage anymore. Students and teachers were fighting. Many of them had broken noses or lips split with blood.
A horde of the Order of Autumn stood behind Basile, ominous in black cloaks and black leather sandals. Their heads were bowed as they chanted low and quiet, their own sonorous chant.
“Our Father,” they chanted, “who art in the ground. Hallowed be thy name Pythagoras—”
