My heart quickened as he spoke, but I didn’t dare speak. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t find my voice, my words, my questions.
“Women have been making sacrifices since the beginning of time. It is why the world continues to spin on its axis. It is why life does not stop. The day women stop making these sacrifices, the sun will stop shining and Earth will stop spinning. We will no longer have anything to hold us together.”
“Now, I will ask you to drink from this chalice, one that all of your sisters have drunk from before you. You will free your mind tonight. You will let us see through your barriers and into your depths. Tonight, you become a Sword.”
He walked over to me and kneeled beside my face, holding the chalice to my mouth. “Drink.”
I hesitated. All his talk about sacrifice making me think of death, making me question whether or not that would be my fate tonight, but I looked at the women with their heads bowed, and thought of Stella, and Dr. Thompson, and the woman the monks had been having sex with. I thought of all of the men standing outside of these walls. Would they let me get very far if I ran? Did I even want to run? He promised me memories. He promised me freedom. Wasn’t that what I was here for? And so, I tilted my head slightly and drank from the golden chalice, swallowing slowly as the liquid spilled from either side of my mouth. The priest wiped my face gently as I drank. It tasted bitter. When he was finished pouring the wine in my mouth, he stood and stepped back. My vision got hazy quickly, the room spinning as my heart sped up. He spread his arms open once more and said, “Sisters.”
I could barely make them out, only flashes of red as they walked onto the altar and surrounded me. Their chants filled my ears. Their movements blurred with my vision. I tried to place the chants, what they were saying. It sounded familiar, too familiar, and then just before my eyes shut the world out completely, I realized where I knew it from: it was what the monks had been chanting around the naked woman.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Adam
They were taking long inside and I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed back in. I hadn’t been there for a woman’s initiation before. Truth be told, part of me didn’t actually believe in the whole women’s history in The Swords until I saw the row of women standing in front of me. There was something eerie about all of it. If they’d been so important to The Swords, why hadn’t they recruited more of them? Why hadn’t they been included in the narrative they spun every time a new member joined?
I hadn’t gotten a good look at any of them, just the back of their heads as they stood there. When the priest said they initiated women every third year, I became even more confused. The last time we had women here was two years ago, not three. The Swords didn’t count failed initiations though, so those women were written off anyway, no mention of them spoken outside of the core members who were there when they were. Every third year. The words seeped back into my head. Had they stayed, this would have been their third year. Shit. I tried to think of any commonalities they had with Eva, with Stella, but none came up. As far as I knew, they didn’t even have siblings, so Eva’s theory of multiples wasn’t valid. One thing I knew for sure is that I hated being kept in the dark. I was the president of the goddamn secret society and I had no idea what was happening right under my nose. Why have a president at all? For pretenses?
When the heavy church door opened again, my heart stopped. One woman peeked her head out, her head was not only cloaked, but her face was veiled now, a red sheer over it as if to block her identity.
“Mr. Astor. Please come in.”
I was aware that she’d said my name, but seemed to be frozen, rooted to the spot. The hum of the conversation happening around me ceased as they watched me finally gather my thoughts and lift my feet to walk over. The woman held the door open just enough for me to walk inside. The church was dark with the exception of the candles lit in the front, circling the altar. My gaze became transfixed on the front of the room. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find inside, but it wasn’t this. The women’s heads were bowed as they stood, covering something in the middle. A bench maybe? Was that where Eva was? My heart was in my throat as I walked over and sat in the center of the pew the woman led me to. I tried to go through the motions of what I’d do if this was a repeat of what we’d seen that night of the party. My pulse quickened at the thought. Even though I wasn’t a believer, I’d always respected the sanctity of the church, but if anyone tried to rape Eva, I’d kill them all. With what? I didn’t know. I had no weapon, but I’d make do with whatever was on the altar if need be. It was sick. The whole thing was sick. The fact that I could even sit in a church and think about using their crosses as defense tools.