Page 122 of Divine Oaths

Around the corner, footsteps approached and Liam emerged, observing Jojo’s next move on behalf of the president.

“I told you,” Liam whispered, as if he too was tethered by an invisible force. “I work for them.”

Jojo cut Angelica off. When he spoke, his voice was cold, his words directed to Liam. It was as if, despite himself, he was bowing to the president’s will. “How should I know where he is? Kasem does what he wants. I’m not my brother’s keeper.”

I pulled away from Jojo, returning to the present. His eyes were glassy, guilt-ridden.

“You covered it up,” I whispered. “Kasem’s attack. Who the killer was. We thought it was Alaster, but we were wrong. It was the wraith of General Winhall. He’s been controlling the president. This whole time he was the one behind it and you just covered it up.”

Jojo gasped. Again, his choking fit ensued, but relief flooded over him. Now that I had unlocked a part of the secret he’d been bound to keep, the truth spilled from his lips.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with. He watches all and is more powerful than Sigma or Theta or the Ԑnhye or any of us.” Suddenly, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and foam teemed from his mouth.

I screamed, wrapping my arms around him, calling his name over and over again, as if that could wake him from his torment.

When Kasem had tried to speak of Sigma’s rituals at the estate, something had stopped him too. An incantation. One of loyalty and secrets. Jojo was under the control of one now. But this was one of rancor and malice, something vile and sinister.

“It’s okay,” I pleaded. “You can stop. Don’t try to say it.”

Blood trickled from Jojo’s mouth. He coughed, gasping for breath, his eyes fluttering as slowly he returned to himself.

Barely managing to speak, Jojo explained in a whisper. “I’m bound to Winhall, to the curse, because of the ritual of disinheritance. He has a piece of my soul.”

I reached for him, pulling him close to me, holding him, as if in some way the beads of protection could shroud him too.

This was why he’d been so distant. It was why he’d stayed away, even as Kasem and I had researched Westfield and the curse. For generations, his lineage had fought the curse and always found a way to withstand it. But it didn’t have to end like this. It didn’t have to end with them.

“It’s only two hours until midnight,” I said. “If we perform the binding ritual, Kasem will live and the curse will be broken.”

He made to answer, but suddenly, there were screams in the distance, voices shrieking in bloody terror. Footsteps raced down the hall, and one of the waiters rushed to where we were.

“The greenhouse,” he said, gasping. “Someone poisoned the drinks.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

We make guilty of our disasters

THE CONSERVATORY WAS A SCENE of chaos when we arrived. Bodies of students and faculty and members of the board of trustees littered the ground, one after another. Some writhed on the floor, choking and vomiting. Others lay still, their eyes empty, broken glass at their feet, their drinks pooling red beneath them.

Someone had set fire to the foliage, and the plumes of smoke caught quickly to the plants, making the glass building a furnace of fire and ash.

It was happening again. The fire. Death. It was just like before.

Fear paralyzed me. But even as it threatened to consume me, Jojo squeezed my hand, pulling me away from its currents.

“It happened during the dedication,” the waiter said, coughing. “Some people fainted after the toast. Others were fine.”

When I’d first come to Westfield, I’d seen a vision of the servers spitting into drinks during Rose and Ivy Houses’ orientation.

“Did someone spike the drinks?” I asked.

“No.”

“You’re lying,” I said. I grabbed his arm before he could stop me and channeled into the past. But what I saw in the kitchen as the staff prepared the drinks was a somberness and grief that had filled the campus.

The waiter yanked his arm away from me.

“None of us would do something like this. Yes, there have been some harmless pranks in the past. But nothing like this. Nothing deadly.”