Chapter 13
The days after the jail cell crawled by like months. Every time I stepped out of my dorm, I expected campus security to pounce. But as Anubis predicted, the fiasco surrounding the donor’s collapse at the event blew over once the official “allergic reaction” statement was released by the Dean’s office.
Sophie didn’t contact me directly again. Instead, she sent a short text:
“Looking forward to Friday’s demonstration.”
The chill those words gave me lingered. Meanwhile, the Howler, our campus paper, was abuzz with rumors of a hush-up. Harry pressed me for the story on secret societies. I told him I needed more time. Time I didn’t have.
When Thursday night arrived, I found myself in the library after hours again, flipping through reference books about secret societies in general, gleaning any last bits of insight. Bone Trials. The name conjured images of people in robes brandishing ceremonial objects. But everything I read was half rumor, half sensationalist nonsense.
Even so, I scrawled notes in my phone:
They might demand a vow of secrecy.
Physical or psychological tasks as “proof of loyalty.”
Possible forced confessions about personal secrets.
I didn’t know what could be worse than them having footage of me getting fucked in the ass in a jail cell. The idea of me standing before them, reciting some humiliating or incriminating truth, made my skin crawl. My nightmares about the river had only intensified.
I returned to my dorm, passing a group of giggling students in the hallway, carefree and unaware of the underbelly I inhabited. The contrast was surreal. In my room, I paced, rummaging for outfits. What did one even wear to a secret society ritual? Something dark, presumably, so I could blend with the shadows.
Knock, knock. I froze, my pulse stuttering.
“Suede?” a voice called quietly. Anubis.
I let him in. His hair was damp from a shower, and he carried a small bag. “I brought you something.”
I arched a brow as he set the bag on my bed. Inside was a black garment made from expensive, slippery fabric. I draped it over my arm. It looked like some sort of dress or…robe?
“It’s for tomorrow night,” he explained, a hint of regret in his tone. “Sophie demands we wear official attire. The women’s attire is a black slip dress with a hooded cloak. I managed to snag a new one. The older versions were…revealing.”
My cheeks warmed. “Revealing how?”
He shrugged, looking away. “Let’s just say the Skulls have historically enjoyed humiliating novices, especially women. At least this updated version covers more.”
I swallowed. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
He nodded. A heavy pause followed, tension thick as an anchor in the room. We were on the cusp of something huge, something that threatened to devour both of us if we failed.
Anubis exhaled softly. “I also wanted to see you one last time before the Trials. In case tomorrow goes sideways.”
My heart lurched. “Don’t talk like that,” I whispered.
He stepped closer. My breath caught. The overhead dorm light cast half his face in shadow, emphasizing the strong angle of his jaw. His eyes, that strange swirl of green and brown, fixed on me with an intensity that sparked heat in my core.
I realized we’d been dancing around each other for weeks, moments of real closeness overshadowed by crisis and deep desire. Now, that unspoken electricity felt stronger than ever, overshadowed by the knowledge that tomorrow we’d step into the Skulls’ lair.
He skimmed his hand up my arm, searching my face. “I’m not going to lie, Suede. I’m terrified. Not for me, but for you.”
I swallowed a knot in my throat. “I’m terrified, too,” I admitted.
He cupped my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. I felt the slight tremor in his touch, he was as affected as I was. My instincts warred. Was it safe to let him into my heart, to care for him, when everything was so precarious?
And yet, this was the moment to choose trust or walk away. My body decided first. I leaned into his hand, letting my eyes flutter shut. A beat later, he was kissing me, tender, cautious at first, then deeper as my arms wound around his neck.
His hoodie smelled of soap and the faintest hint of cologne, a warm, comforting blend. The taste of him was dizzying, and the pent-up tension spilled over. It felt like exhaling after holding my breath underwater for days.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Our eyes locked, an entire conversation unspoken. I don’t think he’d kissed me once all weekend in the jail cell, even though he’d done everything else to my body, mind and soul.
We sank onto my bed in a tender rush. Gentle caresses, hushed murmurs came from us. Nothing like before, as we shed our clothes. We were forging solace in each other's arms before the looming trials. The night became a blur of raw passion, real passion, as Anubis, dominated me in truly every way. All the ways he had before, but now my heart as well. He entered me whispering reassurances, quiet vows of whatever happened next, we’d make it through it together.
In the aftermath, whether simply resting in each other’s embrace or just sharing a stolen kiss, I felt though we might not survive tomorrow’s Trials unscathed, we weren’t alone anymore. We had each other.
Outside, the campus lay still under the dark sky. But behind my eyelids, I had a thought about his words in the caretaker’s cabin. Maybe we really could upend the Skulls’ twisted tradition.
Friday night arrived with ominous swiftness. The campus air was charged, as if everyone subconsciously sensed something large was at play. Anubis and I spent the day separate, he had a mandatory Rowing practice, and I had to maintain my normal schedule or risk suspicion.
But as midnight neared, I slipped on the black slip dress and the hooded cloak he’d given me. A shiver scuttled down my spine. The dress clung to my curves more than I was used to, and the cloak’s hood draped low over my brow, hiding my face in shadow.
I was to meet Anubis by the caretaker’s cottage, the same place where we’d first uncovered the original Skulls’ ledgers. My sneakers crunched over fallen leaves as I crept down a seldom-used campus path. The moon glowed behind a haze of clouds.
A figure waited near the cottage door—Anubis, dressed in black slacks and a matching hooded cloak. He gave me a slow once-over. “You look…” He cleared his throat, seeming at a loss for words.
I felt oddly self-conscious, heat creeping along my collarbone. “Strange?”
“Beautiful, but in a dangerous way,” he murmured.
My heart fluttered. He took my hand, guiding me into the caretaker’s cottage. Inside, it was dark save for one flickering candle on the old desk. I glimpsed the shelves full of forbidden archives.
Anubis shut the door. “We’ll head to the Alumni House in a moment. But first, I want to give you this.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a sleek black phone. “Use this if anything goes wrong. It’s a burner phone. Programmed with my number only. You can ditch it afterward.”
I closed my fingers around it, trying not to show how touched I was by the precaution. “Thank you,” I said softly.
He blew out the candle. Then, hand in hand, we walked back outside. Around the rear of the cottage was a dirt path leading through a dense stand of trees, behind which a sleek black SUV waited. A driver in dark clothes stood by the passenger door.
Anubis squeezed my hand. “We’ll ride with some other participants. Don’t say too much. I’ll do the talking.”
My stomach churned. Other participants? We approached the SUV, where two robed figures already sat in the back seat. The driver gave us a silent nod as we climbed in.
The atmosphere inside was stifling. The other two students, older than me, Anubis’ age, a man and a woman, wore matching black cloaks, their faces partially hidden. I didn’t recognize them, but he gave them a curt not. They glanced at me but said nothing. I followed Anubis’ lead, staying quiet.
We drove away from campus, the road empty except for an occasional headlight in the distance. After fifteen minutes, the SUV turned down a narrow lane lined with tall hedges. Through a wrought-iron gate, we entered the private estate grounds of the Alumni House so wide that the building itself wasn’t visible until we rounded a final bend.
Lights glowed from tall windows, but all around, the property was eerily silent, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
The driver parked, and we filed out. My heart pounded so loudly I thought everyone could hear it. A cluster of robed figures congregated near the stone steps leading into the mansion, their low voices murmuring.
Anubis rested a protective hand on my lower back, guiding me forward. I recognized Sophie immediately, though she wore a black half-mask that emphasized her sharp cheekbones. She raised her chin, scanning the arrivals. When her gaze locked on me, I felt a stab of dread.
“Welcome,” Sophie intoned, her voice echoing. “Our newest aspirants have arrived.”
Someone else emerged from the shadows, a tall man with silver hair, also masked except for his stern mouth. I realized it was Anubis’ father himself, Osiris Edenvane. His presence made my skin prickle.
Sophie beckoned us up the steps, inside the foyer. Dim overhead lights cast the entire room in a golden haze. A few suits of armor lined the walls, and an ornate black-and-gold crest hung above a massive fireplace. It wasn’t the Edenvane crest I was used to seeing. It was the stylized skull.
As the robed figures fanned around us in a circle, I counted about fifteen or so. Some might be older students or alumni, impossible to tell under the masks and hoods. Silence descended, interrupted only by the crackling of flames in the fireplace.
Sophie stepped into the center of the circle, graceful and poised as ever. “Tonight, we begin the Bone Trials,” she announced. “We do so to test your courage, your loyalty, and your willingness to bind yourself to something greater than you.”
Behind her, Anubis’ father, remained silent, arms crossed. The presence of the top authority figure at Edenvane confirmed how deeply sanctioned this was.
I glanced at Anubis. His expression was schooled into a mask of calm, but his hand clenched at his side.
Sophie continued, “Each pair will face a trial. Succeed, and you earn your place. Fail, and your future at Edenvane…dies.”
No one asked if the threat was literal or metaphorical. The hush spoke volumes.
She gestured to the corner of the room, where a small table held silver chalices, one for each pair. The woman who arrived with us stepped forward first. She and her partner took their chalice in trembling hands. Sophie murmured instructions, too low for me to hear. The pair left through a side door, accompanied by two silent masked watchers.
I swallowed hard as it dawned on me that each pair would undergo separate tasks. Ours might be last or next. I didn’t know which was worse.
One by one, other pairs were summoned to collect their chalice and vanish into the corridors. The hush, the oppressive sense of ritual, left me half-suffocated.
Finally, it was our turn. Sophie lifted a chalice and handed it to Anubis. Then her gaze slithered to me. “Nubia,” she said, using my supposed code name. “Step forward.”
I glanced at Anubis. He nodded, so I joined him before Sophie. Up close, I could see a gleam of triumph in her eyes, like she was savoring my tension.
“Your test,” Sophie said softly. “They say only those with unwavering loyalty to their partner can succeed. In the eastern wing, you’ll find a locked room. Inside is a puzzle that must be solved using…familiar knowledge.”
A puzzle? It sounded too mild for what I’d imagined. But I sensed a catch.
Sophie trailed her gloved finger over the rim of the chalice. “Drink together first. Then go. The watchers will remain outside. If you fail, you’ll beg to join Toccara in the river.”
My teeth clenched at the mention of Toccara. I forced myself not to glare at her, but my heart hammered so fiercely I could barely focus.
Anubis raised the chalice, tipping it toward me in a silent toast. My mind screamed caution. What if it’s poison? But everyone else drank from theirs. If I refused, that was an automatic fail.
I inhaled shakily and took a sip. Some thick, bitter liquid coated my tongue, tasting like herb-laced wine. My stomach lurched in protest, but I forced it down.
Anubis drank the rest, then set the chalice aside. Sophie stepped back, gesturing to a masked attendant, who motioned for us to follow down a narrow hallway. The flickering wall sconces made the corridor feel endless. Already, my head felt strangely light, my pulse skipping.
At the end, the attendant pushed open a carved wooden door, revealing a small library-like room lined with shelves. No windows. A single overhead light buzzed, illuminating a large table in the center with odd symbols etched into it, plus a small chest with a lock.
Clunk. The door closed behind us. A click indicated it was locked from the outside.
I spun, looking at Anubis. “A puzzle?” I whispered.
He nodded, stepping unsteadily toward the table. “That drink…makes me feel weird,” he muttered. “Maybe it’s intended. Some kind of truth serum or hallucinogen.”
My throat tightened. Great.
I forced myself to focus. The table had a series of rotating wooden disks carved with letters and symbols. It reminded me of an ancient code wheel. Next to it lay a slip of parchment:
“He who knows me best unlocks the door. He who shares my secret is worthy of the Skulls.”
My heart sank. This might be some twisted measure of intimacy.
Anubis grimaced. “They want us to reveal personal secrets, like a riddle about each other? Or something from our pasts?”
I remembered the Skulls’ rumored tactic, forcing confessions or private knowledge as proof of loyalty. This puzzle might align with that.
The chest on the table was locked, but the lock had a numeric dial. Maybe the code was related to something about me or Anubis.
We began fumbling with the wooden disks, searching for a pattern. The swirling in my head grew stronger, the wine’s effect intensifying. My fingers trembled.
Anubis inhaled sharply. “Look here,” he said, pointing to the top row of symbols: a stylized dog shape, a snake, a heart, and a star. “This might relate to Egyptian mythology.”
He was named Anubis, after all. But would that help us?
My vision blurred slightly, but I forced myself to keep going. The next row of symbols included a quill and an eye. Quill—writing? Eye—witness?
“He who knows me best unlocks the door.”
“I think the puzzle expects us to combine something personal with these symbols,” he said hoarsely. “Like it’s referencing my name, or your name, or something. Maybe your mother’s name? Or your hometown?”
His mention of my mother jolted me. Ambrosia Whipple. That was personal. But the puzzle likely wanted something from both of us.
With shaky hands, I aligned the first row to read DOG (Anubis) and the second row to read something about me. I tried the symbol for a star, thinking about my name, Suede , which ironically didn’t have an obvious symbol. So I switched to a symbol that resembled farmland or a small house, referencing Crestwood, my hometown.
Nothing clicked. The chest remained locked.
The swirling in my brain thickened, my knees wobbling. “We’re missing something,” I muttered.
Anubis gently steadied me. “It’s alright. Think about the real reason they picked us. They want something raw. A confession or a vow.”
I remembered Toccara’s file. Potential vulnerabilities. The Skulls thrived on secrets. Maybe they wanted me to own my darkest memory.
I shuddered. My darkest memory was the time I was nearly assaulted by hooded men in an alley as a teen, though the biggest confusion was how that memory was entwined with a strange surge of survival and shame. That event had overshadowed my life. And Anubis knew it all. He confessed to being forced to do that to me. But how did it connect here?
“Suede?” Anubis said, voice tense.
My gaze darted around until I spotted a faint inscription on the chest itself:
“Strip away the lies, bare your darkest truth.”
I closed my eyes. “They want a secret,” I choked out. “A personal secret that binds me to you.”
Anubis’ hand tightened on my arm. “Tell me what to do,” he said, voice rough. “You don’t have to bare anything you’re not ready to share.”
But we had no choice if we wanted out. The watchers outside might be listening, waiting for confessions.
My heart pounded. I never told anyone the full story of that alley, how I’d frozen, how I survived, how it shaped me. The nightmares of black robes, the sense of guilt…
The watchers wanted to hear my confession.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The wine had me dangerously close to tears. But for once, I wanted to tell the truth.
With trembling breath, I spoke so softly I barely recognized my voice. I told him about that night in the alley, leaving out the worst details of fear, but enough to convey the trauma. I spoke of the cold ground, the hush of footsteps, the masks, the taste of copper in my mouth.
Anubis listened, his face contorting with anguish. I never mentioned him as I revealed my pain to the room. I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but it could have been the flickering light.
“Now you know,” I whispered. “Why I withdrew from everyone. Why Toccara’s death dredged everything up.” I said all that, but it wasn’t enough, so I added. “The worst part was I enjoyed what happened to me.”
He bowed his head, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice raw. “I guess, it’s my turn to finally share.”
But before he could finish, a faint click startled us. The chest’s lock popped open.
I gasped, stumbling back. It was as if the room itself recognized my confession.
Inside the chest lay a single brass key on a cushion of black velvet. Anubis lifted it, turning it over in his palm.
“Key to the door?” I guessed.
He nodded. I tried the handle on the library door, which was indeed locked. Then Anubis slid the brass key into the slot, and it turned with a smooth click.
A wave of relief crashed over me. We opened the door and found the watchers waiting. One nodded approvingly, then led us back to the foyer.
We reentered the grand foyer to find only Sophie, his father, and a few masked figures standing around. The rest were absent, presumably guiding the other pairs. Sophie’s mask concealed her expression, but I sensed her dissatisfaction.
“Congratulations,” she said in a throaty purr. “Many never make it out of their first trial.”
I suppressed a shiver. The so-called puzzle had forced me to share my darkest secret. That was a violation of the most personal kind.
“And for your second trial,” Sophie continued, “you will proceed to…”
She was cut off by a slamming door. Another pair stumbled in, trembling, tears streaking their faces. They, too, held a brass key. The watchers behind them pronounced, “They’ve passed.”
Sophie paused, glancing at Anubis’ father. He inclined his head, and she sighed. “Fine. We’ll continue the Trials together in the courtyard. Gather your strength.”
She gestured for Anubis and me to stand aside with the others who had succeeded. The courtyard was accessible through a set of glass doors, behind the foyer.
I leaned closer to Anubis, voice barely audible. “There’s another trial? I’m not sure how much more I can take.”
He looped his arm around my waist, drawing me in. “We’ll get through it,” he breathed, eyes flicking warily to the watchers. “I’m so sorry you had to share that secret.”
I pressed my face into his shoulder.
His grip tightened. “You left out the details about me, about the Skulls. Apparently, that’s what they truly wanted. A confession that absolved them.”
Sophie’s clear voice rang out, halting the moment. “Now!” she called, leading us through the foyer. “We continue outside.”
The courtyard was a broad, flagstone-paved space surrounded by towering hedges. Torches flickered in wrought-iron stands, casting dancing shadows. In the center stood a low, black granite pedestal. On top of it was an ornate dagger with a gilded hilt.
My stomach lurched. A dagger?