“Right. The thing is, I don’t drinkalcohol.”
She lifted a brow. “Ever?”
“No.”
“Oh. Um….” Her forehead creased, and she turned back to Paisley. “Go and tip this out, and then go and check all the vending machines near the cafeteria. There must be some sort of red juice we can use. Grape or cranberry,maybe.”
Paisley nodded and left the clubroom. Camila turned back to me with a hesitant smile. “Sorry, Laney. I didn’t know you don’tdrink.”
“It’sokay.”
When Paisley returned, she was holding a bottle of organic pomegranate juice. “Is thisokay?”
“Perfect!” Camila said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll be back in a sec,Laney.”
She went over to the other side of the room to tip some of the juice into the freshly-washed chalice. Then she stepped back over to me and held it out. “Here you go. The non-alcoholic blood of your enemies,” she said with agrin.
I tipped my head back and downed the juice in three gulps as the girls cheered meon.
“Let’s go!” Kiri said, excitedly jumping up anddown.
One of the girls grabbed a small black bag and put the empty chalice in it, along with the rest of the pomegranate juice. I couldn’t see what else was in the bag, because she zipped it up rightaway.
“Follow us, Laney,” Camila said, directing my attention to thedoor.
We left Royal Hall and walked down to the lake in pairs. As we drew closer to the main boathouse dock, I caught sight of four silver motorboats bobbing in the water at the very end, along with four tall men on theplanks.
My pulse picked up as we headed down the dock and approached the men. They were all wearing masks, so I had no idea who they were. I could only assume they were from the Medusa Society’s generous parent organization, though—the ever-mysteriousNetwork.
The men divided us up and assigned us to different boats. I was put in the one at the end with Camila andKiri.
“Don’t be scared,” Camila whispered, squeezing my hand as one of the masked men climbed into the boat and started the motor. “We’re just going over to HarkerIsland.”
I smiled. “Yeah, Ifigured.”
“How are you feeling?” Kiriasked.
I swallowed thickly and rubbed my arms. “A bit nervous. But mostlycold.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll warm up as soon as we get there. The torches are amazing. They heat up the entireclearing.”
I returned her smile and settled into my seat, gazing out at the lake. A yellow crescent moon hung in the sky with a million twinkling stars, casting a shimmering glow over the inky water, and the hulking silhouettes of the academy buildings stood sentinel in thedistance.
My vision suddenly turned blurry and wobbly, and I thought I saw twenty different shooting stars at once, sending white and yellow sparks all over the lake. The messed-up vision was accompanied by an odd physical sensation, like an out-of-body experience. I knew my brain was sending signals, telling me to blink and shake my head to clear my vision, but I couldn’tmove.
A moment later, the strange feeling was gone, and I could see perfectly again. I took a deep breath and told myself that it was just a bit of seasickness. After all, I wasn’t used to speeding around on amotorboat.
We arrived at the old pier on the island shore about five minutes later. Camila helped me out of the boat, and then she took my hand and led me down a dark, winding path behind all of theothers.
I recognized the path from the time I sneaked over to the island and caught a glimpse of Dayna’s initiation. It was surrounded by densely-packed trees, and it smelled of damp leaves and moss. From somewhere up ahead, faint voices and music filtered through the air, and an orange glow eventually became visible, lighting ourway.
We stepped into an enormous clearing lined with golden torches. They were the same ones I saw last time—tall rods with carved serpents entwining them, topped by golden sconces for the roaringflames.
A tall maypole stood in the middle of the clearing, covered in colorful flowers, foliage and ribbons. In front of it was a stone altar and a large goldenthrone.
Around the edges, men in long black robes and domino masks sat on stone seats, laughing and chatting with each other. They were accompanied by a large group of young women in see-through white chiffon gowns over skimpy gold underwear. Loud, rhythmic music filled the air around them, emanating from a large black speaker beside a pinetree.
“Who are they?” I asked Camila, pointing at the unfamiliarwomen.