“We were talking about becoming Blood Brothers even before we had news of McCain,” Daddy said. “This is just speeding things up a bit. Drew’s a good man—I trust him with my life and I trust him to be co-Alpha of this pack. I’ve led you successfully for ten years—does anyone here want to question my judgment?”
He gave a hard stare around the bonfire and the people who were standing there frowned and shuffled and muttered but nobody protested or raised his voice.
“Good.” Daddy nodded in apparent satisfaction. “Then we’ll proceed with the ceremony. Malachi, get the branding irons ready. We’ll need some for the kids as well,” he added.
I didn’t know what that meant but I did know that a lot of people were suddenly looking at me with pity in their eyes. Then a man came forward with an armful of long metal poles, that looked a little like the fireplace poker I had seen in an old-fashioned house we had visited once on a class fieldtrip.
He stuck the ends of these long poles right into the heart of the bonfire and stood by while my Daddy and the man with the beard—the one named Drew—stepped closer together.
As I watched, Daddy took off his shirt, revealing a chest covered in the same red-gold curls as his head. The man named Drew did the same and they faced each other in front of the fire. Daddy produced a long sharp hunting knife—the one he carried when he went out shooting deer. He flipped it open, the firelight skating along its long, sharp blade, making it look red and gold instead of silver.
I watched, wincing, as my Daddy took the tip of the hunting knife and drew a diagonal line across his palm. Drew did the same, neither of them making any sign of pain even though I could see blood dripping from their fingers.
Then they reached out and grabbed each others’ hands in a hard grip and a grim look came over both their faces.
“Brother in blood
Brother in deed
I look to you now
In my hour of need,” Daddy said.
Drew nodded and answered,
“Brother in blood
And brother in deed.
I’ll help you now
In your hour of need.”
Then together, they chanted,
“Let our families be one
Let the deed be done.
Forever together
We claim this creed.”
As they finished the last words, two men stepped forward and both of them was holding one of the long metal poles. But the end of the poles were red hot now—glowing like live coals. As my Daddy and Drew clasped hands and looked into each other’s eyes, the men pressed the red-hot ends of the metal poles to their shoulders. Daddy got branded on his right shoulder and Drew got branded on his left.
There was a hissing sound and I saw my Daddy wince in pain, though he didn’t say a word. A murmur went up from the assembled crowd as people watched the strange ceremony with wide eyes.
And then someone was pushing me forward—me and the tall, thin boy who was Drew’s son—pushing us up to stand by our fathers’ sides.
I didn’t understand what was happening, not even when Daddy whispered in my ear that it was my turn now and that I had to be brave because it was going to sting a little bit. It was the same thing he told me when I had to get a shot, but this felt different somehow—scarier. More dangerous.
They had me hold hands with the tall boy, who Daddy introduced as “Nick.”
He grinned at me and gripped my hand tightly.
“You ready?” he asked, whispering like we had a secret together.
“I don’t know.” I looked around as my Daddy took my other hand, the one Nick wasn’t holding, and stretched it out palm up.
Then the same man who had pressed the red-hot poker stick to my Daddy’s arm came over to me. Seeing the tip glowing like a live coal scared me but the next minute he was pressing it to my skin and I forgot the fear because of the intense pain.
I shrieked and tried to yank my arm away but my Daddy held me tight.
“It’s all right now—it’s all over, sweetheart!” he murmured anxiously as the man pulled the red-hot iron away from my skin. Looking down, I saw that I was marked now. There was a sign that looked like the crescent moon with a star in its center burned into the smooth brown flesh of my inner forearm.
I looked at my Daddy, tears streaming down my face.
“Daddy, that hurt!”
“I know, baby, but it had to be done.” He looked at me seriously. “You know the same way you have to take your shots at the doctor, because they protect you? Well, this little mark is going to protect you, too. And the pain will be gone soon—I promise.” He raised his voice and looked around. “Who’s got the burn cream?”