Allison Brennan - Original Sin

Fiona whispered to Serena, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Bring her forth.”

Serena walked to the edge of the circle. She’d been cleansed and could not break the circle without harm, but Fiona was certain Lily Ellis did not know this, nor that once Lily entered the circle she would not be allowed to leave until the ritual was complete. And when the Seven were trapped, Fiona would have the power of legions of demons on her side, and elevate herself to a mortal god. Closer to victory over death, victory over age, victory over humanity.

“We will not harm you.”

Lily said, her voice shaking, “Pul-please let her go.”

“You would take her place?” Serena asked.

Serena understood the power of words. Would take her place was not an offering or an exchange, it was a question. Because no one could save Abby. She was the sacrifice through which the Seven would come forth; Abby was the key that unsealed the prison. She had been recruited because she was the arca’s closest friend and blood relative, a cousin. Both only daughters of witches who were only daughters of witches. Not necessary for the ritual, but Fiona preferred balance and rhythm in her rituals, and Lily and Abby provided a nice, even canvas.

The girl’s lips trembled. She had not dressed for the chill, her arms pulling her thin sweater tight around her. The fog rose from the ocean, rolling over the edge of the cliffs toward their circle. “Please-”

“Would you?” Serena asked.

Tears glistened in the candlelight. “Y-Yes.”

Serena put out her hand, palm up.

Lily hesitated. Fiona closed her eyes and pictured the surroundings. She sent out her Third Eye, her psychic self, looking for anyone lurking in the cypress. Beyond that was open space, cliffs, and the highway more than a mile to the west. Open space protected them. There was no one to stop her. She’d know long before anyone could get close. Victory was in her grasp. Power swelled in her breast.

Lily had to cross the circle of her own free will.

She had to agree to taste the forbidden fruit.

Lily looked around at the cloaked men and women. Nervous, scared, uncertain. Fiona nodded to Garrett. He pushed back his hood and turned to face Lily.

The arca gasped. “Pastor Garrett-”

“Come, child.” He opened his arms to her, palms up like Serena. Welcoming. Benign. His strikingly handsome face seduced women of all ages to do exactly what he wanted.

Lily swallowed, then stepped into the circle. She stopped, her face twisted in fearful confusion as the stillness of the air within the circle surprised her.

Serena removed the extra gown from her shoulders and said, “Wear this.”

Lily looked around, her eyes darting nervously from Garrett to the other men.

Serena laughed lightly. “Would you like them to close their eyes?”

She nodded, shaking. Fiona put up her hand and nodded to the men. “The arca commands privacy.”

Ian and Richard closed their eyes. Garrett smiled at Fiona as he put his hood back on, then closed his as well. She allowed him to gloat. Fiona had been skeptical of a seventeen-year-old virgin, but Garrett was never wrong about these things.

The girl took off her clothes, not meeting the eyes of the women who watched. Abby, a willing participant only because she didn’t know that her death was required, said, “Lily, there’s nothing to be scared about.”

“Abby-” Lily glanced around, her big, brown eyes wide, the reflection of the candles making them seem bottomless. “Please, let’s go.”

“No,” Abby said, irritated. “I thought you wanted to share this with me.”

Lily opened her mouth to speak, but Fiona could not allow her to cast doubt within Abby. Fiona said, “Relax, Abby, you need to be perfectly calm in order to achieve your elevated state.”

“Yes, medea.”

“The anointing,” Fiona said.

Serena had a small gold triangle-shaped box in her hand. The box contained a resin, made in part with blood of a newborn goat, olive oil, scammony, myrrh, and civet. The recipe came from the Conoscenza to aid the Seven in finding the arca once they were released. Serena marked Lily with the seven signs, on her forehead, each hand, her heart, her stomach, her pubis, and her left hip. There was an opening in the gown at each point so the mark wouldn’t be concealed. At each step, Serena whispered the commands in Latin, so the girl wouldn’t be afraid.

Garrett handed Serena a closed ball of simmering henbane. Serena opened it, allowing the hallucinogenic fumes to flow into Lily’s senses. One. Two. Three .

She closed the ball, handed it back to Garrett, and took Lily’s hand. The henbane would keep her compliant, for Fiona couldn’t have her fight back now. The wine she would soon drink-willingly or not-would attract the Seven to her, like a bitch in heat attracts a male dog. If the Seven escaped the arca it would be impossible to recapture all of them. At this momentous time, there was no room for error.

Serena brought Lily to the altar and laid her on her back, the top of her head touching Abby’s head. One was a vessel through which the demons would enter the world, the other was a container where they would be trapped.

It was perfect .

“Abby,” Lily whispered.

“Silence,” Fiona ordered. “It has begun.”

She continued the ritual she’d begun before the arca arrived, the growing tension and excitement filling her with physical and spiritual power.

Fiona would succeed where other, weaker magicians had failed. For centuries, individual witches and covens had attempted to locate the Conoscenza and failed. Attempted to find the Tree of Life and failed. Many had died in their failures.

Fiona would not fail. She would not die.

She would live forever.

Moira jolted upright, her breath coming in gasps, her heart racing. The nightmare rapidly faded, but the terror that clutched her held on tight.

It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a vision, just like the terrible one she’d had ten weeks before. But this was far more vivid than any she’d ever experienced.

For a long moment, she forgot where she was. She willed her heart to slow, trying to gain mastery over her fear. This morning’s motel room was the same as so many before it. The stale smells, the strange thumps, the yellow lights and thin sheets. Days had rolled into weeks with Moira barely acknowledging the passage of time, blending together Ft. Lauderdale and Ocean City, Astoria and Santa Louisa, and in between dozens of towns, big and small. At last Moira was in the right place.

“Santa Louisa,” she whispered in the dark. The town wasn’t far from the mission massacre Father Philip had told her about. She realized now that she should have headed here directly after that phone conversation. If only she’d known the mountains in eastern Santa Louisa were a mere thirty miles from the Pacific Ocean!

She’d arrived in the picturesque central California town nearly a week ago, remaining after sensing this was the right place. Her research and her finely tuned instincts told her the gateway to Hell was here in Santa Louisa.

On the Internet message board she frequented that discussed supernatural phenomena, she’d encountered a teenager who described cliffs in the area that seemed strikingly similar to those in her vision. He’d been concerned because a mysterious fire had destroyed a local house and there’d been other odd occurances. His name was Jared Santos and everything he told her confirmed that these were the cliffs of her vision. She’d immediately headed to Santa Louisa.