Page 110 of Salem’s Rise

I’m no longer trying to find Josh. I’m going to bring him back.

The realization steadies me. It does not soften the grief, but it gives it direction, sharpens it into something I can use.

Silas wants to lead the Veil. He has spent his entire life being prepared to win these Rites. Until tonight, I never cared who won. I only wanted answers about Josh, but now I need the boon.

Silas has now become the greatest obstacle standing between me and my brother, and I’m the greatest obstacle standing between him and everything he’s ever wanted.

Only one of us can succeed.

And it’s going to be me.

December 22 (Dark Solstice)

The Dark Solstice arrives on a snowy morning in Salem’s Fall that would seem like any other December day if I didn’t know there was a real possibility it might be my last.

Snow has been falling since sometime before dawn, covering the university’s slate roofs and stone courtyards in a soft white layer that makes campus look peaceful, almost innocent, despite all the darkness underneath. No summons has appeared beneath my door yet, but I don’t need one to tell me what’s coming tonight.

The Fourth Trial.

With three trials down and one more to go, I have a pretty good idea what to expect. South. Fire. Whatever shape that takes.

The Dark Solstice is the longest night of the year and, according to my collection of occult books, one of the most dangerous. Like Halloween—or Veil Night—it’s another time when the boundary between worlds is thin and the dark powers are strongest. Several of the older texts warned against the dangers. One book described the Dark Solstice as a door standing open in a house, waiting to see what entered inside.

Naturally, the Veil has chosen tonight for the final trial of The Rites.

At least, that’s what Silas had told me—back when we were still talking. He’d said The Rites always ended on the Winter Solstice.

I take a drink of coffee, grimace at the bitterness, and set the mug down. My dorm feels unnaturally quiet. Finals ended days ago, and by now most of campus is almost empty. The last students remaining drag suitcases down the residence hall stairs and through the snow while parents idle at the curb with trunks open and engines running. Excited voices carry across the courtyard wishing one another “Happy Holidays” and making promises about New Year’s parties and seeing each other again in January. There is something painfully surreal about seeing people move through an ordinary life while mine has become entirely unrecognizable.

Their biggest worries are airport traffic or disappointing grades. They don’t know the terror that exists just beneath the surface. They don’t know that tonight I may be expected to burn someone else alive—maybe even a friend, maybe Silas—for the privilege of winning a competition I’m still not sure I fully understand.

And that’s being optimistic.

Most likely, I’ll be the one who burns.

My suitcase is packed in the corner. A few sweaters, jeans, toiletries, and my laptop are crammed inside. If I survive tonight and the Veil allows me to leave for break, I want to be ready to go home and spend Christmas with my mother.

But I’m not counting on it.

By early evening, hunger finally drives me to Winthrop Commons. I’ve had a hard time remembering to eat, my appetite all but gone since finding out about Josh’s death and Silas’s betrayal. But if I’m headed for some terrible battle-to-the-death tonight, I shouldn’t go on an empty stomach.

The kitchen has prepared an elaborate holiday meal for the students still on campus, and the rich scent of butter, roasted meat, garlic, and fresh bread fills the high-ceilinged room. Desserts crowd a separate table beneath the windows: apple pie, gingerbread pudding with bourbon sauce, and a peppermint cheesecake that looks almost too perfect to touch. It’s the sort of meal designed to make people feel cared for.

Or fattened for the slaughter.

I take more than I normally would and sit beside one of the tall windows overlooking the quad. If this is my last meal on Earth, I plan to enjoy it.

For several minutes, I allow the warmth and richness of the food to distract me from what’s coming. Then I notice Lena also sitting alone across the room. She looks up as though she feels me watching and meets my eyes across the mostly empty dining hall. Neither of us smiles, but after a moment, she gives a slight nod. I return it. She doesn’t come over, but I understand why.

We may have become friends during our time here, but we are competitors tonight. I finally see The Rites the same way the others do—not just something to survive but something I must win.

For Josh.

If The Rites forces us to fight tonight, I don’t think I can kill her. But I also know I won’t surrender my chance to win if victory brings me closer to my brother. Lena would make the same choice, and the fact that we both understand this is the reason neither of us crosses the dining hall.

By the time I return to my dorm room, the daylight is gone. I pick up my phone and scroll through the log.

No new messages.