“The world doesn’t know they exist. It would never believe they are real even if we shouted their crimes from the top of the John Hancock Tower. Who could possibly believe such a thing is happening in the dark underground of the real world?” Dinah pointed at each of the gathered people. “It’s up to us. It can only be up to us to take them down.”
She folded her arms across her chest, her incredible inner strength evident to all. “There’s no room for pride, vanity or arrogance in this war. If we do this, if we take them on, we must be ready. Be humble to the mammoth task before us. We must be better than they are, in every conceivable way.”
Silence grew heavy in the gym. “How did you escape?” Gabriel asked, voice careful and tender. “How did you successfully run away from their clutches?” Diel’s head twitched as he watched Noa. Noa breathed. She needed their two groups to work, to become one. The Fallen were the only people the Coven knew who could tear the Brethren down alongside them.
And the pretender priests had to be brought down.
“We practiced,” Dinah said. “At night. When they left us alone. We trained. We grew strong even when they hurt us to the point of exhaustion. Priscilla …” Dinah trailed off at their elder sister’s name.
“She was the one who pushed us,” Candace said, picking up where Dinah had left off.
“Priscilla hated the Brethren most of all.” Jo shook her head. “No, that isn’t true. We all hate them, with every fiber of our being. But Priscilla was different.” Jo cast a quick glance at Noa.
Noa held her chin up. “The same darkness that flows in your veins,” Noa said to the Fallen, “exists in me, but it thrives in Priscilla. She fosters it, cherishes it … relishes it.” Noa fisted her hands just to stop them shaking. “Priscilla fought back against the Witch Finders the most. Against Auguste.” Noa’s jaw tightened as her eyes briefly drifted to Sela, Auguste’s brother, who looked so much like him that it was as if he was with them in the gym. “He hated her. Loathed her. Wanted to break her. So they hurt her the most, made her pay for her insolence. They tortured us all … but Priscilla …” Noa’s voice cut out when rage threatened to burst from her.
“They put her through hell,” Beth said. Noa closed her eyes, and she could hear Priscilla screaming, hear her cursing the Brethren in her family’s ancient tongue, casting curse upon curse on them as they tied to her to a stake and burned her, as they drowned her, hands tied behind her back, as they hanged her, only releasing the noose when her body began to shut down as death bit at her heels. “They didn’t break her. Even after all of it … she didn’t break.” Beth’s eyes glistened. Naomi nodded in silent agreement of how hard it had been to see Priscilla torn apart in such brutal, barbaric ways. Noa recalled the strength, the sheer will that Priscilla kept tight hold of, even when each of her fingers were broken, when she was half dead, barely breathing.
“So we trained,” Dinah said, picking the story back up. “We trained until we were one, just as the Witch Finders became each day on that training field. And then we waited. Sitting tightly in patience for months and months. We waited and waited, until the day Auguste was pulled away from our quarters, some kind of emergency in the city, leaving only a few of his men behind to guard us.”
Dinah nodded to herself. “Patience. We had to learn patience at such a young age. We endured their torture, fought to keep up our strength, and waited until the perfect moment to strike arose. We knew we only had one shot.”
“I taught myself how to pick locks,” Noa said. Gabriel closed his eyes and nodded, clearly tying Noa’s theft of the collar’s key and her past together.
“Priscilla made us weapons, slices of metal that we sharpened on the walls of the dorm to work as makeshift knives,” Candace said.
“And then we attacked,” Jo said. Noa could still feel that day like it was yesterday—the door they were trapped behind opening under Noa’s quick hand, Priscilla leading them like a Valkyrie from their dorm and into the hallway. They had never been outside of their dorm unescorted. But Priscilla had glanced back at Noa, and Noa, freedom coursing through her veins, had smiled.
Darkness to darkness. Like magnets.
Noa saw the guards rushing toward them. They fell into formation, just as they had seen the Witch Finders do so many times, as the Coven had practiced deep in the night. Noa still remembered the looks on their captors’ faces as they saw their prisoners, the so-called sinful witches, heretics, poised to fight—organized, ready … lethal.