Mystic High ✓

MH │32

In the previous chapter: Marian wanted to do a tarot reading for Oriane - went into a bit of detail about Wiccan beliefs. Then a fae prefect took Oriane to see the Master of the Rosicrucians. Marian and Charlotte followed her to the back garden behind the Metaphysics block.

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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Time seemed to slow as the crazy cultist's eyes landed in their general direction. Charlotte inched closer behind Marian, trying to mould her shadow to the column they hid behind. It's annoying that the legs of the archway were really skinny. Such that she was now huddled with Marian, crossing her fingers they would pull this off no problem.

When his attentions glided further to the left, time resumed its normal pace. Both girls released a soft sigh of relief. She heard Marian do a breathy hitch of a laugh.

Although, in this bleak darkness and with the shifting sound of the forest in the breeze, how could anyone have noticed them? Unless, they had some sort of earth elemental close by sweeping the premise? But she could only see the cultist, the fae, and Oriane. The fae was leading Oriane to his accomplice, who, aside from his moving, surveying head, stood as still as a statue with that terrible fiery torch in one hand flickering around.

The cultist's scrutiny landed on Oriane when the fae indicated for her to stop with a raised hand blocking her passage.

"Master." The fae dropped to two knees and bowed low, until his head reached the grassy ground. "I have returned with our sister."

The cultist harrumphed in acknowledgement then commanded, "Rise Liafaren." His voice was surprisingly smooth, contradicting his overall unsettling countenance.

The fae stood, though as soon as he did, Oriane let out a yelp. In the blink of an eye, her knee collapsed to the ground with a thud. If where they stood had been concrete, the force of that would seriously bruise.

Worry blossomed in her chest. Oriane had clearly been compelled to kneel. What else could this cultist make their friend do?

"Ah, Miss Moore. Very nice of you to join me."

Confusion flared in her. Charlotte clearly recalled Oriane exclaiming how she had told the cultist her nickname only, rather than her full name, hoping he won't be able to find her. How did he know her last name?

A sound like a whimper escaped from Oriane's lips. In the wavering torchlight, Charlotte could see her friend shudder and her heart bled for her. How terrified she must be.

The cultist didn't instruct her to get up off the ground and instead continued to speak, "One of your sisters has been taken." He emphasised the point with a low drawl.

To Charlotte's knowledge, Oriane was an only child. He must be meaning another one of his followers. She had noticed how the fae had referred to Oriane as his sister. It was so messed up.

"Unfortunately, the person who's taken her is your Enforcer. Naturally, it falls to you to rescue her. Do you understand?" he asked, as though he wasn't ordering her to do this task.

How would Anna be able to do that? The cultist was asking for the impossible. Charlotte clenched Marian's shoulder tightly, perhaps a bit too hard because she promptly received a quiet slap on that hand.

"Sorry," she whispered to Marian.

In the dark, Marian turned to her and gave her a sharp glare, gesturing roughly by jerking her head at the scene before them, silently telling Charlotte to concentrate.

Oriane didn't respond, she merely knelt there shivering. But Charlotte hadn't expected it when the mad man handed the torch to Liafaren and raised the palm of his hand.