“What?” I unfolded my arms and walked over to the big lump of slate in the middle of the clearing. “It looks like a rock.”
“It is a rock.” He smiled. “What did you expect?”
“I don't know—maybe an elaborate altar or something.”
“Nothing great is ever made of gold, Ara.”
“What does that mean?”
“If it looks like a rock, people will only see it as a rock.” He ran a flat hand over it. “It’s safe that way.”
“How did it get magic? Like, what is it?”
“You don’t know?” He frowned.
Feeling sheepish, I shook my head.
“Come here.” He patted the spot beside him as he leaned on the unpretentious altar.
“You’re leaning on it?”
“Yeah. Don't worry, baby, it’s not disrespectful.”
“It’s not?”
“No more than picking an apple from a tree. It’s a rock—a part of nature.”
When I let my hips and butt fall against the Stone, I felt a vibrant warmth coming off it; it seemed so small here, surrounded by so many tall trees, spread so far apart, making a clearing around it, like it had some kind of disease the rest of nature didn't want to catch. “It feels lonely.”
“What does?”
“The rock.”
“How can a rock feel lonely?” He looked behind him to the grey stone.
I shrugged. “I don't know. I just get the sense that it’s lonely.”
His brow arched. “You are one weird girl.”
I smiled. “I know. So, anyway…how did it get magic?”
“Well, legend has it—according to the Lilithian’s version—that the original Lilith stole a seed from the Fruit of Wisdom and carried it away. One day, she decided to plant it—to profit from its fruit and its knowledge. When she covered the seed with soil from impure lands, it grew out of the ground, tall and magnificent, then, shrivelled away and turned to stone.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “They say a great forest grew around it over many centuries—said to be enchanted—to protect the Stone from any who seek to misuse its power.”
“So it was a tree, and it died, but kept its power?”
“Or maybe it never died. Maybe the tree is alive in there somewhere.” He rapped his knuckles on the Stone. “And this is just an outer shell.”
I stared at in wonder.
“But anyway, like I said—it’s a legend.” He shrugged. “I don't care for the rest of it, and neither should you. Just being a vampire is enough weird for me. I can't even think of the fact that my best friend has to cut herself open and bleed on this rock to satisfy the sick, twisted traditions of a nation that lives on second-hand stories.”
“You'll be swearing an oath on this rock soon, too.”
“Yes, and then I’ll be your slave for life.” He bowed low, smiling.
“Which will be different to now, how?”
“Very funny.” He folded his arms. “So, back to the guided tour; the first part of the ceremony is held here. After you cut yourself and bleed, you make some freaky magic promise that’ll stain the skin all over your body with painful tattoos—”
“They fade when the ritual is finished, Mike. You know that.”
“Yeah, but they burn, don't they? That’s what everyone says.”
“So I've been told.” I looked at my smooth white skin, trying to imagine being covered in black runes. “But, I'm not the only one getting them, Mike. So don't worry about me.”
“Yes, but it’s different for me, Ara. I’ll only get one here.” He pointed to his upper arm. “You’ll have them everywhere, and we’re not allowed to show pain during the ceremony. No emotion at all, remember?”
“I’ll be fine, Mike. I'm strong.”
“Then why are you shaking?” We both looked down at my hands. “Come here.” He sighed and wrapped me up safely in his strong, warm embrace, until the shaking died down to tiny trembles.
“I'm not that scared—not really.”
“You are. You’re obviously scared.”
“It’s not the ritual that scares me, though.”
He looked down at me, releasing his hold gently. “Then what is it?”
“It’s…I'm actually more afraid I’ll stuff something up—say the wrong words or trip over.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Well, I'm glad to hear that, then. It means my best friend is still in there somewhere.”
“Somewhere?”
He looked down at me, his caramel eyes bright with his smile, and wrapped his arm across my neck. “You’ve grown up a lot in the last few weeks. I don't feel like slapping you quite so often.”
“Urk! I can feel the love,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
“Aw, you know we love ya, baby.”
“I know. So, the walk—where do I go after I bleed on the Stone?”
He pointed to a path between two tree trunks that looked like Ents with big noses. “Right through Boris and Bert.”
“Boris and Bert?”
“It’s what we call those trees, because they look like funny old men with weird names.”
I chuckled lightly. “That sounds like something I’d name them.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” He rocked back, laughing once. “Funny thing is, it was actually Lilith who named them—when she was a child.”
“Cool.”
“So, you go past Boris and Bert, and once through, the ceremonial crowd will disperse and wait for you to arrive just before dawn on the rim of the forest outside the Throne Room.”
“And I have to walk at human pace, don't I? I can't just do it all in one run then sit on the ground for the night?”
“Uh, no.” He half laughed. “Don't do that.”
“Why? They wouldn't know.”
“No, they wouldn’t. But you would.”
My shoulders dropped. “Good point.”
“Look, I don't like this either, Ara. Who’s to say Drake isn't gonna wait for you to be out here, all alone—” he looked up at the loneliness of the empty space, “—and then just swoop in and grab you.”
“Thanks. I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it, I'm sure I’ll be looking over my shoulder and jumping at every snapping branch I pass.” It made the idea of being out here, alone, in the dark, very, very scary.