Chapter 32 Circle, Minus One
I returned to Foresyth the following Monday before the Meister could note my absence. I called a Circle—minus one. Technically, any student could call a Circle anytime, but I doubted anyone except Leone and I had read the Foresyth Handbook.
“What the hell, Dahlia? I was in the middle of something,” Nina muttered, entering the sitting room and wiping something green and foul from her hands.
I didn’t doubt she’d been busy, but this was the only hour the Meister was guaranteed to be out with a client, according to his schedule book—information I’d uncovered after figuring out the lock on his office door.
“If Dahlia called a Circle, it must mean it’s important,” Sequoia chimed.
Aspen narrowed his eyes, though his voice softened. “What’s going on, Dahl?” I didn’t like the familiarity of his tone or the use of my nickname, but it softened me despite myself.
“I called you here because you deserve the truth—a truth that’s been kept from you.
We’re not doing sub-fucking-rosa anymore,” I began.
I’d thought speaking plainly would come easily, but the words stuck, my anger getting the best of me.
My father had taught me that trusting others with secrets was a weakness, a risk I could ill afford.
But I wouldn’t let his fears guide me any longer.
I let anger fuel the truth I was about to reveal. Trust might be dangerous, but it was necessary. And my pursuit of truth—unlike his—was going to set us free from Foresyth’s magick.
“The Conservatory is killing its students. You’ve been promised power that will never be yours.
We’re all sacrifices for a bloodthirsty magickian who’s using you,” I said, looking around.
Sequoia’s face went blank, Nina looked annoyed, Aspen’s expression twisted with concern, and Leone remained unreadable.
“You’re each an elemental component—water, fire, earth, and air. You’re the intended sacrifices.”
“So, you know,” Sequoia replied, her gaze flicking to Aspen before meeting mine. “But, Dahlia, it’s not like that. We participate willingly. The power is ours to share. And we understand the risks,” she said, her voice calm.
“No, you don’t understand. The Meister has lied to you. The Book doesn’t promise power to everyone involved—just to the one offering the sacrifices to the demiurge, not Sophia. She isn’t the one you have all been praying to.”
“You must have misread,” Leone interrupted. “I’ve studied the passages carefully. The elemental ceremony is supposed to grant ‘spiritual transcendence and the Universal Truths of the seventy-eight cards of Skorn to each element.’”
I expected their skepticism; it was what I wanted. I wanted them to question the Meister as much as they questioned me.
“And when did you last read the text? What year?” I asked.
“My first semester,” Leone replied.
My pulse leapt. “That was over two years ago. But the real Book of Skorn—the unabridged version—hasn’t been here more than a semester. You must have sensed a difference in how the book feels.” I’d learned from the Meister himself there were multiple versions of the Book.
“What are you saying, Dahlia?” Aspen pressed.
There was no turning back now. I glanced around, considering each one of them.
Did I trust them?
Sequoia—water. She embodied fluidity and intuition, qualities I’d once resented in myself. But she’d shown me how to trust my instincts, revealing parts of myself I’d kept locked away.
Nina—earth. Grounded and resilient, she had been the first to befriend me at Foresyth. Despite her losses, she wore her individuality like armor.
Leone—air. Truth-bound and meticulous, he sliced through facades with a curiosity I deeply echoed. He craved new territory, new truths, just as I did.
And Aspen—fire. He ignited something in me, a warmth and passion I hadn’t acknowledged. I’d pushed him away not out of fear of him, but of myself. He saw me, stripped of pretense, and kept fanning my inner flames.
Ignoring the truth would have been easier, but I couldn’t ignore what was in front of me. These were my friends, the ones I had to protect—those whom Julian and my father had failed to save.
After a pause, I met their eyes. “I have proof,” I said.
I pulled the letters from my bag, their weight heavier than before.
My fingers hesitated over the edges, smoothed by time, stained with the ugly truth.
I handed them to Leone first. If anyone could recognize inconsistencies, it would be him.
“Julian was my brother—half-brother, technically. He discovered the truth about the Book and the Meister’s intentions just before he died.
He didn’t have much time, but he left me these letters and our father’s belongings. ”
One by one, they passed the letters around, their eyes moving over Julian’s words. A silence thickened in the room, not of disbelief—but of realization. Then fear.
“The Book you read years ago, Leone, must have been fabricated to justify the ceremony. The Meister must have rewritten parts of it to support his theories. The true ceremony requires five elements: the four, plus the Bonder—me,” I continued.
“But Julian sabotaged the ritual by taking poison before the ceremony began, so the Meister couldn’t go through with it.
He must have signaled this to the Meister, sabotaged the prepared potion, then hung himself, leaving clues for me to follow.
Without Julian, all of you would’ve died that night. ”
A long silence settled over the room.
“You’re the Bonder—the one who’s brought us together,” Aspen said at last, reaching into his pocket to pull out a folded paper.
“Julian left me a note, too.” He said this mostly to the others, echoing our previous conversation.
“I didn’t realize why it had to be you, but now I understand it was because of your blood. ”
Sequoia looked at Aspen, hurt evident in her eyes. “You never told me.”
“He asked me not to,” Aspen replied, as if that was enough of a response. But I knew deep down that he didn’t tell her because he meant to protect her.
“If Dahlia had left me a note, you would’ve known,” Sequoia murmured, arms crossed.
Nina, who had been reading the letters, looked up, her voice flat. “We all would’ve died that night.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“Julian saved us, but he didn’t trust us enough to tell us the full truth. To make our own decision,” Aspen remarked. “So why do you trust us now?”
I hesitated but decided to let go of all logic, all reason, relying instead on what I now acknowledged as instinct. It was what made me a great Tarot reader, and what I believed would make me a good detective now.
“It’s just a feeling,” I said. “You’re my friends.
I care about you.” I thought back to my framework on the greatest motivators of the human spirit: knowledge, power, or sex.
But there was one that I had missed: love.
It was the love of my newfound friends that were guiding my decisions now, despite how reckless or foolish they seemed.
“If the Meister intended to sacrifice us, he’ll try again,” Leone said, his voice edged with anger. He didn’t like being lied to.
And neither did I.
“That’s why I have a plan. But I need all of you. If you want to leave before the Symposium, I’ll understand. But if you want to stay to incriminate the Meister, we have the chance to end this cycle tonight.”
“I’m in,” Aspen said. “I won’t let Julian’s sacrifice be wasted.”
Sequoia’s brow furrowed. “If we stop the Meister, who’ll lead the school?”
“The Council would likely appoint someone new through a vote,” Leone answered. “The House won’t vanish—it seems like it’s been resisting the magick with growth and life, even as it decays from the blood rituals.”
The Council had turned a blind eye for decades, allowing the Meister’s unchecked power to fester like rot.
He hadn’t just inherited his position—he had cultivated it, embedding himself within Foresyth’s foundations, protected by politics and tradition.
Even Julian, despite his mother’s position as an Advisor, hadn’t realized how tainted Foresyth had become until the very end.
Destroying the ceremony wouldn’t be enough. If we wanted to end this cycle for good, we had to strike at the source—The Book of Skorn itself.
“We have to destroy the Book,” I said, “so no one on the Council can use it.”
“And neither can we,” Nina noted. “We’ll remain powerless.” Nina’s words threatened to stifle the air in the room as I noticed the others’ shoulders drop. Of course, they all cared about the power. That’s what’d driven them to go along with the Meister, with the sacrifices, for this long.
“You don’t need it,” I said, my voice growing with conviction.
“Nina, you can transform corpses into art, recall the histories of hundreds of mythical creatures. Sequoia, you can light up the whole room from your presence alone and bring people to tears with your voice. Leone is the most erudite person I’ve ever met, and Aspen’s sculptures belong in a museum.
Each of you has incredible power already.
You don’t need the Meister’s false promises. ”
Leone’s face hardened, his voice resolute. “I don’t take kindly to liars, especially ones who deceive so arrogantly.”
Nina hesitated but then nodded. “No one sacrifices me without my knowing.”
Relief washed over me, and I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, I had allies.
“What’s the plan?” Nina asked.
“We’ll go through with the ceremony. But this time, no one dies.”