Crescent (Book 1)

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The moon should be nearly at its peak. The storm clouds are too thick to tell. I hope no one can see the way my shoulders quake as I feign confidence and stroll the length of the ballroom. Ajax clears a path ahead of me, pausing at the bottom of the staircase until I catch up with him. He holds a scarred hand out to me.

Cherith and Sely stand in the same position at the twin stairwell across the room. Ceth will be waiting above at the peak where both sets of stairs meet. Silence falls when I grip the golden banister with one hand, Ajax's hand in my other. I walk the steps carefully, counting each of the hundred to the top. I stumble on the last step, stopping when I see the podium on the balcony overlooking the crowd. A silver plate lays overtop, oblong with crimped edges. Tiny stones lay across it, rubbed smooth by the water that trickles over the edge of the podium only to disappear into mist.

Ceth appears from a billow of smoke, and I take a breath as Ajax retreats with the guards behind us. Lingering with them, I see Nic, and my fear only builds when he offers me nothing more than a small smile. The candles burn a bit brighter, illuminating faces below. The crowd whispers quietly... a slow undulating hiss at first. It grows. Louder and louder- some archaic language now a song throughout the room. We take our places on either side of the podium.

Ceth holds my palm in one hand, and in the other, he raises Ceth and Sely's joined palms. "Coalesco."

"Iungo," the crowd replies.

Lord Cherith bares his wife's wrists to the crowd, and she watches with beady eyes and a wine-drunk smile. "Coalesco," he chants just as Ceth drags a finger down the length of my arm, lifting it. I shiver as he looks at me, mouth widening into a malevolent grin.

"Iungo," Sely and I recite back. The moon rises to its peak, and through the window, its light shines through the clouds. A breath. A blink. Teeth flash, canines sharpen. Then there's only pain. White hot, full-bodied pain flows through me as Ceth's teeth sink into my wrist.

There's no stopping my gasp. The whole crowd can hear it. I rear forward, head spinning as the scent of magic fills the air. Ceth holds my bleeding wrist above the podium and Cherith mirrors with Sely. Our blood twines together, falling. The crowd keeps chanting.

Magic joins us. The moment my blood hits the plate, I know. I feel it roll over the stones. I feel Sely's breath as it leaves her lungs, just as she feels mine. Our hearts beat in tandem, yet my body moves with a mind of its own.

I unsheathe my blade as Ceth rolls the sleeves of his tunic up his forearm. Normally, I feel most like myself with a blade in my hand. I know how to wield it- I'm practiced in its movements. But as I raise the knife and draw it across the sensitive skin of his wrist- as I watch blood well from the wound- I don't know myself at all.

Heaviness builds in my chest.

Sely takes the blade before I've fully realized what I've done and slices her husband's wrist. Their blood falls. I feel each drop. Each echo of breath from their lungs. I feel the power of the moon above me and the steadiness of the ground beneath me. I feel the weight of my necklace at my throat and the bulky layers of my dress at my hips.

There's only one thought that comes when the pain and the light subside: Nothing will ever be the same again. I don't remember the rest of the night.