Chapter Six
It took some convincing, but Sara-Kate finally agreed to walk me home without a detour to the hospital.
“That shit was scary, Mari,” she chastised, hiking her backpack higher up her shoulders. She glanced at me like she was afraid that at any moment I would fall to the ground in pain again. “Like, for real.”
I sighed, absentmindedly rubbing the new ring Alaric had given me.
I hadn’t taken it off and had no plans to.
For the first time since I landed in New York, my mind felt clear.
Like a fog had been lifted, the pain was finally gone.
“I know.” I glanced at Sara-Kate. “I’m sorry.
But I swear, I’m feeling better. And I promise to let my uncle and aunt know about it. ”
“Good,” she replied, her voice and face suddenly becoming serious. The most serious I had ever seen her. “I lost one friend this year, and I’m not about to lose you too.”
I stopped walking as we came to the front of my apartment building and pulled Sara-Kate into a hug, squeezing her tightly to me. She reciprocated, sniffling, and when she pulled back, there were tears glistening in her eyes.
“Some weird shit is going on, Mari.” Sara-Kate’s voice was trembling. “And I’m worried.”
“Me too,” I replied honestly. “But we will get through this together. I promise.”
She nodded, releasing me from our embrace. Before she turned to walk home, she reminded me, “Don’t forget to text me before you go to sleep and when you wake up. If you don’t, I’ll assume you’re dead and will call the cops on your ass.”
I laughed, nodding and waving as I headed through the entrance towards the elevator.
Part of me still felt guilty for not telling Sara-Kate all the weird shit that was actually going on with me.
But every time I felt like admitting something, I stopped myself.
It sounded unreasonable, but I knew I needed to talk to someone.
While Alaric obviously knew something I didn’t, I had a feeling my Uncle Dan knew something too. And it was time he laid it all out.
I had to wait up for Uncle Dan to get home as he was working late at the office.
Again. Tiffany sat up with me, her furrowed brow getting more intense every time she glanced at the clock.
At half-past nine, Uncle Dan finally came in, swooping by each of us with a kiss on the head and a mumbled apology before going straight to his home office.
I felt bad for Tiffany, who watched him leave the room longingly. It was clear she was feeling lonely, but also that this had become a normal occurrence.
“Well, I guess I’ll head to bed.” Tiffany stretched, yawning as she stood up. “I’ve got an early Pilates class and then a meeting about that old church restoration at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.”
“I think I’m gonna head to bed soon too. Goodnight Tiff,” I replied, noting the smile that lit up her face at my nickname for her.
“Goodnight, sweetie.” She leaned forward, planting a kiss on my head just as Uncle Dan did before. “Don’t stay up too late.”
As soon as she left, I packed my notebook up and headed to Dan’s office. Without hesitation, I knocked on the door and then opened it, not waiting for permission this time.
Dan looked up, startled. “Hey Mari. Is everything okay?”
“No,” I finally said, the honesty washing over me like a much-needed shower. “We need to talk.”
It took me twenty minutes to fully explain everything that had happened since I had arrived in New York.
All the abnormal headaches, terrifying dreams, and odd run-ins with Alaric.
To Uncle Dan’s credit, he sat and listened, never interrupting me, hands folded, his brown eyes concerned but serious.
The only moment of hesitation was when I showed him the ring that Alaric had given me earlier today, which had essentially cured me of my terrible headaches.
He straightened up in his chair, his eyes wide with awe and reverence.
He reached across the desk, his fingers gently tracing the bright red sigils on the sides of the ring that looked as if they were pulsing with life.
I had feared he wouldn’t take me seriously or look at me like I was some crazy, drugged-up teenager. But he didn’t. He listened, and when I finally finished, he spoke with such sincerity and authenticity.
“You’re not crazy, Mari,” he began. “This is something your Nana tried to protect you from, and I should have done more to seek you out, prepare you, but I was just trying to do right by you and her.”
I sat stoic and silent, urging him to continue.
“What you have been experiencing is an awakening. It happens to some people in our family who possess the Bloodwright gene,” he sighed, taking off his glasses and placing them in front of him, on top of his piles of papers.
“What do you mean ‘Bloodwright gene’?” I asked, the word feeling foreign on my tongue.
“It’s a very long, ancient story that goes back thousands of years and thousands of generations.
Not only within our family, but within select families all over the world,” he paused, standing to go to his bookshelf, where he pulled a book.
A clicking noise followed, and the bookshelf shifted and moved, revealing a hidden room within his office.
My mouth fell open at the sight of another small, darker room that was wall to wall bookshelves with an old wooden desk in the corner with what looked like scrolls and parchments splayed about.
I stood and followed Dan as he motioned for me to enter, as he turned on the lights.
The room was brighter, and I could make out a large map of the world on the north side of the wall, between two bookshelves.
The map was old and cracked, with different pins stuck in several places in Asia and Europe, mainly in major urban areas.
A few new pins seemed to have recently been stuck in the United States, primarily in the New England area with an emphasis on the five boroughs.
“What is this place?” I mumbled as I walked over to the map, my fingers lightly brushing over the state of Georgia where a new pin had just been inserted, right on the border of South Carolina where Augusta lay, only miles away from Appling.
“This is what is left of The Red Lexicon, or The Lexicon of Mourning, depending on who you ask. These books and documents are all that remain of the Pollard Bloodwright Order that came over from Ireland over 100 years ago,” Uncle Dan explained, his words unfamiliar, but somewhere deep within me, making sense.
“You said my migraines were because I’m ‘awakened.’ What does that mean?” I turned to look at him. He leaned against the doorway, his face serious.
“It means that you are officially coming into your powers as a Pollard Bloodwright.”
“Powers? What? Like a superhero?”
The corner of his mouth hitched in an almost-smile.
“Not quite. Each individual Bloodwright can have their own unique abilities, but mostly Bloodwrights can primarily sense and influence the ties between life and death. Your migraines are evidence of your coming into contact with death echoes or places where the veil between life and death is thin. Usually, an echo is what’s left of someone who has passed on, a message of some kind that only we can read.
When someone dies, especially violently or with unfinished business, they leave behind more than a body.
It’s like . . . a recording burned into the air.
Not sound, not sight, but a memory the world itself keeps.
Most people walk right through it without feeling a thing. ”
He continued, folding his arms across his chest. “But Bloodwrights? People like us? We can touch it. Hear what they heard. See what they saw. Feel what they felt in their last moments. That’s a death echo. And the stronger it is, the more dangerous it is to relive.”
I nodded, trying to take in all this new information. “You’re a Bloodwright too, then?”
“Yes, just as your father was, and our father before us. After your father and mother died, Sylvia took you back down to her hometown in Georgia. She wanted to protect you from all of this.” He gestured around the room.
“I think she hoped that if she took you to a place where very few Bloodwrights remain, she could avoid this fate for you.”
“But why now? Why am I ‘awakening’ now?”
“Bloodwrights can only be awakened to their powers when death marks them in some permanent way. When Sylvia passed away last month, that started the process of your awakening. I was hoping it was a fluke, that your headaches were just down to grief and adjusting to the stress of living somewhere new, that maybe the Bloodwright gene had skipped a generation, but that is clearly not the case.”
He glanced down at my right hand where the ring Alaric gave me glistened in the light. “And with that ring, you’ve not only found a way to control when death echoes affect you, but you have inadvertently finished the first phase of the awakening process by bonding with a mentor.”
“A mentor?” I gaped at this revelation. I was relieved the headaches were gone, but I didn’t know taking Alaric’s ring would mean more than just that. “What do you mean?”
Uncle Dan walked over to the desk, pulling out a drawer with a ring box tucked inside. He handed it to me, urging me to open it. I opened it to find a ring just like the one Alaric gave me, but this one with what looked like our Pollard family crest engraved in gold.
“This had been your grandfather’s, mine, and then eventually your father’s, and if I had realized you were awakening sooner, I would have given it to you, marking you as my apprentice.”
“Can’t I just switch them? Give this one back and wear this?” I pulled the ring out of the box to inspect it more carefully.
“Unfortunately, no.” Uncle Dan took the ring back, placing it precisely in the drawer it came from.
“The ring contains a Bloodroot Circle Ward that binds the wearer to the one who gave it in a way that cannot be undone. It’s a form of bonding, meant to solidify a young Bloodwright’s magic with that of a more experienced Bloodwright.
I’m surprised someone as young as Alaric was able to part with it and that it accepted you as its apprentice.
Not all Bloodroot Circle Wards will successfully bond one Bloodwright to another.
It’s usually done among blood relatives, though there are a few rare cases where it has happened otherwise. ”
I felt the blood rush to my face. So I was irrevocably tied to Alaric? Why had he given me this? Did he know what it meant?
“So, that means Alaric is a Bloodwright? If he gave me this bloodroot ring or whatever?”
I was panicking; suddenly, the realization of what Dan was telling me felt much too grave and much too permanent.
“Do I have to accept being a Bloodwright? Is there a way to get out of it?” I continued, my voice shaking.
Uncle Dan took me by the shoulders and pulled me into a hug, an attempt at comfort, but I felt like I was suffocating.
“The only escape is death.”
His words washed over me like a freezing, icy waterfall, goosebumps prickling all over my body.
I pulled away to look into his tear-filled brown eyes. “But I have this ring. Can’t I just wear it forever and be normal? Not experience those death echoes and just pretend this never happened?”
But I knew it wouldn’t be that simple even before he shook his head, eyes downcast like he was ashamed he had let me down.
I remembered Alaric’s words from earlier: that this ring would help for now, but not long-term.
I groaned, burying my head in my hands, trying to wrap my thoughts around what this all meant.
“What happens now?” I finally asked, looking to Dan for some kind of guidance.
“In order to keep you safe and healthy, you’ll need to begin your apprenticeship and complete the next phase of your awakening, which will lead into your full initiation. I imagine Alaric will be in touch with you soon, most likely after he confers with his own mentor.”
“How do you know he has one?”
“Every Bloodwright is trained by another, more experienced one. Those who are left alone without guidance . . .” his voice trailed, a look of guilt coming over his face.
“What happens to them? To those who keep having headaches. To those who don't get a magical ring to help them,” I demanded.
Dan sighed, “If left alone, the best-case scenario would be they would lose all sense of reality, essentially going insane. Without a Bloodroot Circle Ward to keep the death echoes at bay, they will be unable to stop the onslaught of death memories trying to get messages across.”
“Best case scenario?” I screeched. “What would be a worst case scenario?”
He hesitated, clearly unsure of telling me much more.
“Tell me.” I gritted my teeth, my right fist tightening until my knuckles were white, the ring that now protected and bound me feeling like a heavy weight.
“I really shouldn’t say more. Not until you speak with your mentor.”
“Fuck that!” Tears burned my eyes. “I’m tired of being in the dark!”
He finally nodded, pulling me back into his office before pulling the same book which closed off his secret Bloodwright room.
“Worst case scenario is that an awakened Bloodwright without control of their abilities gets hunted down.”
My knees buckled, and I luckily landed in the leather chair across from Uncle Dan’s desk.
“Hunted down by what?”
“By the Stonebound.”