Chapter 19
The Wall of Calling
The boy beside Veda smiled with the same glossy brown hair and burning amber eyes before bowing with one arm at his waist and the other gesturing toward the building.
“Welcome, m’lady! I’m Riaan! It’s a pleasure to finally meet the savior of the world! I’ve been bugging Veda to introduce me ever since she and Sor—”
Veda clapped a hand over his mouth. “Excuse him. This is my little brother.”
Other than the scar, the gender, and the age, they were identical. It was clear as day they were related.
“I can tell.” I smiled and offered him a nod. Then another yawn slipped out along with one of those useless apologies. “Sorry.”
“Let me show you your room. I can give you a more extensive tour tomorrow.” Veda turned to her brother, and her voice hardened. “Riaan, you’ve met her, now, so you need to get to your dorm. It’s way past your curfew, and I’m not covering for you if Ezra catches you out. Or even worse…Matty.”
Riaan pouted and grumbled, but bowed his head and took off running to catch up with Soren, who was already halfway across the lawn.
“Curfew?” I asked, raising a brow.
“He’s only fifteen,” Veda shrugged. “And we do have rules, ya know?”
“So I’ve gathered,” I muttered.
Like, I’m not allowed to do anything on my own or ask any questions that are too important.
Veda chuckled beside me as our feet hustled across a thick blanket of grass, wet and cool against my bare soles.
Mud and something else squished between my toes, but at least there weren’t any sticks or rocks so far.
This was the sort of grass made for running through without shoes, like my grandma’s backyard on late summer evenings.
When we had some space between the boys and us, Veda dropped the cheerful tone and spoke fast and hushed.
“I have the Jonathon bow. It’s the one weapon that can guarantee Azazel’s death.
Lore says it’s the most powerful weapon ever forged against the Fallen and anyone they’ve ever possessed or protected.
You’ll only have one shot, considering we only know of one arrow left in existence from those originally crafted by the king’s love.
As long as you have him in your sight, the Jonathon bow will guarantee his death.
No risk. The bow is yours after you stay for one month.
And I’ll even help you get access to him. ”
Something inside me clicked back on at the sound of Azazel’s name and the possibility of his death. The boat ride felt miles behind. Despite the onslaught of things I didn’t understand in Veda’s spiel, the fact that she knew of a guaranteed way to kill Azazel was evident.
I nodded and echoed Soren’s sentiment. “It’s not like I have a choice.”
Even if I wasn’t foaming at the mouth for that weapon she described, Soren had made it clear I was stuck here for the time being. He planned on keeping me here with him against my will. I might as well take advantage of it.
And that weapon…
The Jonathon bow.
Something about it sounded familiar. The name itched at the back of my mind, just out of reach but close enough to annoy me.
“But, yeah,” I narrowed my eyes toward her, “You’re going to have to explain like 80% of what you just said once I’m more awake to try and understand it.”
Veda hummed triumphantly with my concession. “Don’t worry. You’ll be learning all the lore.”
Then, she marched me up toward Covenant Chapel.
Fading gothic font spelled out its name on a sign constructed with white wooden planks against a crumbling brick wall about ten feet in front of the entrance. Up close, I could see old stains, rust, and vines deeply embedded in the mossy brick exterior of the building.
The chapel’s roof gathered into a central steeple with a bell hanging inside. At its peak, a sprouting staff stood sentinel, nearly identical to the mark on my chest. My skin throbbed at the sight of it.
“It’s been passed down as a promise for nearly three thousand years now.”
My ribs tightened their hold on my insides.
“You belong here,” something other than a memory said.
I barely caught the small voice this time over the thrumming of the pulse in my neck.
I don’t know if I want to belong here, I argued back with the intrusive thought.
The yard gave way to stone steps, pitted and cracked by time.
I left muddy footprints behind until I wiped the bottoms of my feet on a scruffy mat at the top step. Wiry strands of the mat stuck to my feet in the aftermath.
“You can wash your feet inside,” Veda assured me before swinging open both of the double doors with a creeeak.
As soon as they opened, I noticed a faint sound of someone singing. It was a haunting verse, muted by walls and space. I couldn’t make out the tune, much less the words.
Veda pointed to a small stone basin off to my right, where I could clean up.
“This building used to be just a simple meeting place for members of The Way before The Last War.” Her voice sounded softer inside these walls. “Over the years, the Guild of Sharona dug out the cellar and turned it into a bunker.”
“Mm,” I murmured, listening as I rubbed dirt from between my toes and dried off with a tattered white towel. “So, it’s for hiding then?”
A wicked smirk tugged at Veda’s mouth as she shrugged. “And other things. We train here. Study. Some even live here. There are other hideaways like this, but Chapel is the closest one to The Tower, so it’s an unofficial headquarters.”
With my feet clean and dry, I followed her through the smaller double doors leading from the foyer into the main sanctuary.
The worn wood flooring felt cozy against my bare soles, warm and welcoming.
It was a spacious room with wooden pews covered in red cushions, all facing a raised platform with an absurd amount of ornamentation behind a generic wooden podium.
The scent of dust, mildew, and a perfumed oil tickled my nose.
My birthmark jumped out all over the place. Everywhere I turned: scepters sprouting branches.
And while Veda went on about the history of this being a gathering place that the Ancients once attended weekly services at to learn about the Creator, all I could think of was how eerily similar—and dissimilar—it was to the room I’d dreamed about a few nights ago.
The one with Lillemore smiling for someone else rather than her own daughter.
Minus the scepters of course.
“You probably won’t get to meet too many of the other guild members tonight,” Veda said as she led me through a door to the left of the platform. “But there are possibly a few night owls roaming about. Just stick with me because some of them can be a bit…like Soren.”
“You mean murderous?”
Veda snorted. “I mean dangerous. And unlike Soren, some of them are not fans of the Prophecy.” She stopped to turn and wave a hand in front of her.
“Don’t misunderstand! You’re safe here. No one would dare lay a hand on you, considering who your Guardian is.
It’s just that there are members of the guild who won’t have your best interests at heart.
I’ll point them out tomorrow. You already know Adriel. ”
Yeah. I knew Adriel
We entered a dim hallway with a few doors, and she headed straight for the one at the end.
“Oh, one more thing.” Veda opened a white box on a table near the door and took out a small disk. Without warning, she pressed it against my temple, right where my Visex was implanted.
I didn’t have the time to pull away or even flinch before something sharp cut into the thin skin of my scalp from the inside.
“Ouch!” I yelped, jerking back. “What the hell was that?”
She pulled the disk away, and I touched the spot to check for blood.
“Your Visex is deactivated now,” Veda said with a shrug, returning the disk to the box on the table. “We don’t allow Visex usage beyond this point.”
“What the—”
“Bit harder to track you this way.”
I released an exhale.
Made sense, but damn, these people were bossy. And violent. And invasive.
Veda crossed through the room we’d just entered, which turned out to be a library (as evidenced by the books lining nearly every visible surface of the walls, save for an unlit fireplace opposite the door).
“Most residents are probably already asleep,” Veda said as she stopped in front of the fireplace. “Which is probably what you want to be doing right now, huh?”
“If there’s a shower—”
“Of course!” Veda interrupted with a grin. “I’ll take you straight to your room. There’s an attached bathroom. You can shower and sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll give you a real tour and introduce you to everyone. Or at least the ones that matter.”
“My room?” I deadpanned. “You all already have a room for me.”
“Have for years.”
She left me no time to question that as she found a burgundy book on the third shelf from the top, to the left of the mantle. Its spine was plain with no title or author. When Veda pulled it outward, the whole bookcase shifted with a low grind, revealing metal elevator doors sliding open for us.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” I lied. Not sure why. “Just thirsty.”
“There’ll be a mini-fridge in your room. Should be stocked with water. Some snacks in the cabinet above it as well. Breakfast is a whole feast, so you’ll get plenty to eat in the morning.”
The doors closed behind us, and Veda pressed the only button on the panel. The lift hummed to life and descended.
My eyelids wanted to do nothing but the same, drooping with the weight of however many hours since I’d first opened that stupid letter.
The elevator either moved incredibly slowly or incredibly deep.
Time stretched longer than it should’ve for a mere trip to the basement.
The silence wasn’t as stifling as it was with Soren, but neither of us had spoken since the elevator started moving.
I was too busy thinking of which question to ask first. Veda was inspecting something on her thumbnail.
“Is there a way to contact someone inside The Tower without getting traced?” I asked, rubbing at the still-throbbing spot on the side of my head from where Veda had forcefully taken my only form of communication with the rest of the world.
“We can send notes with one of our messengers,” she said, leaning against the mirrored wall. “Like how we got your invite to you. Who do you want to contact?”
“Zade Bloomberg. Owns Artemis Archery. He’s probably freaking out considering I just disappeared from right beside him when Soren…kidnapped me, ya know?”
Veda laughed and nodded. “Not a problem. He’s the guy whose bike you stole, right? Write something up, and I’ll get it to him as soon as I can.”
Should have skipped Soren altogether and asked her in the first place. It would have saved me the hassle of dealing with Soren’s control issues and gotten me closer to what I needed a lot faster. Lesson learned.
It took at least another ninety seconds before the doors opened, and I was greeted by a mammoth hallway that curved in both directions around an enormous, floor-to-ceiling gold cylinder.
The cylinder was a solid mass so unexpected and so abrupt that I stilled completely when confronted by it.
It was the sort of interruption that drew your attention right away and begged admiration, not just because of its size and golden hue, either. It was also decorated in carvings of elegant script that appeared to glisten without any movement of light or your position.
Names like Barbara, Marian, and Jude were engraved everywhere around it.
My eyes fell to one name in particular: Lenore.
My muscles stalled.
It wasn’t the largest of the names, nor was it written in an especially profound position to warrant stealing my gaze, but my vision honed in on it like a bee drawn to nectar. I wanted to soak it up and make something sweet out of it.
Veda stepped out of the elevator, but I couldn’t.
My grandmother’s name screamed back at me with the question I had been forgetting to ask Soren. He most likely wouldn’t have answered it anyway, given his track record.
The doors drifted toward each other again, but Veda thrust an arm between them, stopping their progress.
“It’s the Wall of Calling,” she explained. “The names appear when a Daughter of the Scepter is confirmed. Yours will be there soon.”
“That’s my grandmother’s name,” I whispered.
The script of Lenore Chapman’s given name was soft and deep, just like her.
Veda cleared her throat, her arm still poking into the elevator.
I finally stepped out. One foot and then the other.
My fingers found purchase on the loop of the first ‘e’, and I traced her name like an overdue bedtime story.
“She was a Daughter,” Veda said. “Not very common for them to be so closely related.”
My gaze snapped toward her, my hand dropping to my side.
“But my name’s not on here yet,” I declared with precision carving each word. “So, why would you all think I’m one of them?”
Veda tilted her chin toward my chest.
The mark.
I belonged here.
I’d been marked since birth, set apart as something holy. My body, and possibly my mind and spirit, bore the proof of my not belonging wholly to myself. I belonged here, to this…whatever these people were.
I didn’t want to.
Belong to them that is.
There might have been the slightest iota of me that wondered what it would be like to truly belong here and be a part of this. To belong anywhere and be a part of anything. Really, though, I just wanted to go back to Plan A. The life I’d mapped out forever ago.
I wanted to be my own person, on my own, with my own anger and my own vengeance.
I wanted to be my own.
I wanted the solitude that came with living a life built around revenge and hatred.
I wanted the familiar, the known.
Alas, life didn’t care what I wanted. Neither did the powers that be.