The Oxford Inheritance (30 page)

He was here to help her.

Cassie felt a surge of gratitude for this man who was a stranger to her, but her father nonetheless. It may not have made up for what he'd done to her mother, but it was something: a gesture, a final attempt to make amends.

It was all she had.

Dinner crawled by. Around her, the society members happily tore into the
fine food and wines, laughing and chatting with one another. It was a reunion of sorts, Cassie supposed, seeing old friends greet each other and reminisce about times gone by. She was sickened and fascinated all at once, that such a terrible ritual could be made an occasion of joy, that they were so inured to their crimes they didn't hesitate over their rich slices of venison and game.

Cassie was struck with the enormity of her task. She'd been so focused she hadn't allowed herself a thought of failure, but now, looking around the room, she felt the chill of uncertain fear. There were dozens of people here: powerful, ruthless souls with years of dark deeds to protect. Even Henry Mandeville alone would be a formidable opponent, but the rest of them too . . . ? Cassie swallowed, overcome with a nauseating wave of insecurity. Maybe Tremain was right, and this was a foolish flash of hubris, thinking for a moment that she could be the one to dismantle such an ancient, sprawling evil.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the clatter of chairs being pushed back. People were rising to their feet. Hugo touched her hand. “It's time.”

Cassie's pulse quickened. He had been silent for much of dinner, picking at his food beside her. Now, she wondered what was running
through his mind. Were his promises of protection nothing but lies, to lull her into security? “Where are we going?” she asked, following him as they filed out of the room.

“The catacombs beneath the college,” Hugo replied quietly. “We have chambers there, the same rooms that Raleigh and his group used in the beginning.”

“And nobody notices?” she asked, glancing at the procession. They were quite the group, walking through the cloisters in their formal finest.

“It's a private dinner, they happen all the time.” Hugo shrugged. “The entrance is well hidden and protected. We'll be safe. This is our college.” And it was, Cassie realized. Raleigh, the great institution, belonged to the School of Night completely. Behind these sandstone walls, the society's members ran a private fiefdom where the rule of law or morals didn't reach.

Cassie saw Tremain step into an alcove up ahead. She waited until Hugo turned to speak to another member, then she stopped beside Tremain, pretending to fix her shoe strap. “You changed your mind?” she whispered.

Tremain looked ill. “It's still not too late for you,” he murmured. “If you went now, you could be out of the country before dawn. Please, Cassie . . .”

“No.” Cassie straightened, meeting his eyes. “I'm seeing this through. And either I can count on you, or you're no use to me.”

Tremain's jaw clenched. “I'll be there,” he said sharply. He glanced around, then leaned in. “Once it starts, they'll lock the doors to keep you inside. If you need a way out, there's a back staircase from the crypt. Take a right from the hallway, keep going until you reach the surface. Charlie will be waiting by the north gate.”

“Charlie?” Cassie felt a pang of fear. “No, he can't. I told him—”

“He wouldn't listen. Don't worry about him, there's no time. Listen to me. You'll need to wait until the connection is open. That's when all
the society will be joined with the darkness. Henry is the key; he'll be the one you need to take down. The rest will fall.”

Cassie nodded, thinking fast. “Is there anything I can use as a weapon?”

“Whatever you can find. I'll do what I can for you,” Tremain whispered. “But I'm weak. It's been too long since I fed. I'm no match for any of them. I'm sorry.”

“Cassie?”

Cassie turned. Olivia had turned back and was frowning at her. “Thank you,” Cassie murmured, not looking at Tremain, then straightened, going to catch up with Hugo and Olivia.

“Something wrong?” Olivia demanded.

“Just these shoes,” Cassie replied. She could feel Hugo's eyes on hers, assessing, but she turned away. There was no time to falter now. She pulled her coat around her and followed them into the shadows of the courtyard, to the base of the North Tower.

She tried to reassure herself. She had a plan, allies to help her. Tremain would be in the ceremony, and Charlie was waiting outside. Together, they could bring down the society. They wouldn't see it coming.

Then she saw a familiar face at the back of the crowd. Her heart stopped.

Elliot.

He was speaking with Henry Mandeville, their heads bent together in hushed conversation. He passed Henry something, some old book, and Henry nodded approvingly.

Elliot was tangled up in the society too? Cassie didn't understand. He was supposed to be in London, miles away. Betrayal sliced through her as she watched the man she thought had been her friend. He and Henry Mandeville spoke a moment longer, and then Elliot slipped away, toward the college exit.

Henry glanced over and saw Cassie watching them. A smug smile splintered cruelly across his face—a smile that told her he knew exactly what she was feeling.

Cassie felt sick. Her mind raced back over everything she thought she'd discovered: her mother's name, Rose, the existence of the School of Night at all. Elliot had been helping her every step of the way. It was his research that had guided her down this path, his information that led her to this moment.

It had been him, all along.

She realized with sickening powerlessness that Henry had set this up. He wanted her to discover them; he'd been pulling the strings since the moment she stepped foot in Oxford. Every discovery had been laid out for her to find; each piece of the puzzle had been delivered to her like a poisoned gift. He must know about Tremain being her father, that she was one of them. He was testing her, to see if she'd live or die by their ritual.

She'd been played from the very beginning.

Cassie wanted to run. The odds were against her now; there was surely no escape. But the group was filing into the tower, and Hugo was by her side, guiding her inside. She'd been here before, during her first official tour: tourists often traipsed through, climbing the twisting staircase up to admire the view from the top of the tower. But now, instead of heading up the stairs, the group had pushed aside a heavy tapestry, revealing a door in the base of the stairs. The tunnel beyond was dark, and full of shadows.

Cassie paused, and she felt Hugo against her back. “Trust me,” he whispered, urging her on.

She had no choice. It had all come to this. Cassie gathered her courage and stepped into the dark.

THE STAIRCASE TWISTED DOWN BENEATH THE COLLEGE, THE
narrow path lit by torches bolted to the walls. The lights flickered, leading them on, until Cassie reckoned they must be beneath the great chapel. It was a twisted thought: that deep below the surface, generations had been worshipping a different power, hidden from sight and the world.

She expected the air to turn damp, but the air remained cool and dry no matter how far down they went. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a series of anterooms, each with heavy barred doors. Finally, they emerged into a large, cavernous space, the walls hung with intricate old tapestries and oil paintings, perfectly preserved. The floor was sunk in a series of shallow circular shapes around a small pool of water, and at the head of the room a stone platform set with candles and a silver bowl served as an altar. Presiding over them all was the great man himself: a portrait of Sir Walter Raleigh, his expression aloof and determined.

Hugo guided Cassie to the sunken area in front of the pool. The other offerings were arranged around it until they formed a circle; the members of the society took up positions behind them: a second ring, enclosing them.

Cassie looked around the room, her heart beating rapidly, as the last member stepped inside and the doors swung shut behind them with a low boom. Every instinct was screaming at her to bolt. But it was too late. She forced herself to take a long breath and looked to Hugo, but his gaze was fixed on the ground, avoiding her eyes. Across the room,
Tremain did meet her eyes, and gave a jerky nod, but the uncertain expression on his face did nothing to soothe her racing nerves.

Henry moved to stand in front of the altar. “Here, in the place our legacy began, we come together to renew our sacred bonds,” he began. Other members started chanting along with him, a low hum that chilled Cassie to her core. How many times had they all spoken these words? Made their sacrifices? “To build greatness, to pursue the highest virtues of all. We make our offerings to you in the darkness, that we may be made strong and know the purity of your great gift.” Henry took a knife from the altar and held it aloft. Cassie could see the strangely curved blade, and an ornate jeweled hilt. “From blood, to blood,” Henry intoned, slowly drawing the blade across his palm. He stepped down to the middle of the arena and let the drops fall, dark into the pool. “This is my claim.”

He held out the knife and Hugo moved past Cassie, repeating the words in a hurried voice. He didn't cut deeply enough with the first stroke and had to draw the knife across his skin a second time, wincing as the blood welled to the surface.

“From blood, to blood.” One by one, the rest of the society members descended to the pool. Their blood dripped into the water, until it was a swirl of dark red in the dim light. Cassie's heart beat faster with every passing moment. Their voices blended, echoing in the room until she couldn't tell where one ended and the next began, an ominous chorus humming deep in the background.

“And now, we make our offerings to you,” Henry announced. “They give themselves willingly, for the sake of our legacy and the true power. As it had been from the first and will be until the last.”

Cassie felt hands on her shoulders and startled. Hugo had stepped closer, holding her as the rest of the members all moved to hold their offerings in some way: a hand on the crown of the head, a touch to the back. She could feel the heat of his body, just inches behind her, and the tremor in his hand. “Shh, it'll be all right,” he reassured her, as Henry began a
Latin incantation. The words drifted over her, foreign and weighty in the dim light. Lewis was beside her, shaking like a leaf, and on her other side, Paige was stroking her girl's hair, soothing, whispering in her ear as if to keep her from bolting.

The hum grew louder, whispers rising in the dark, snaking all around them. The torches flickered on the walls, plunging them into dark as Cassie fought to stay calm. Her instincts were screaming at her, every muscle vibrating with panicked need. She shouldn't be here. This was all wrong.

And then she felt it, a deep shiver of sickness that rolled through her entire body. An awareness of something cold. Something ancient. Something evil.

The torches wavered again, and in the dark, Cassie saw something twist, churning in the pool in the center of the room. As she watched in horror, something dark began to rise.

Hugo tensed behind her, but Cassie couldn't tear her eyes away from the apparition in front of her. It was blackened, formless, darkness in its purest form. This was it, the hunger made manifest. And even through the fear, Cassie felt it call to her, awakening something deep in her chest.

The group fell silent as the darkness twisted, a shadow above the pool.

“We make these offerings to you,” Henry called. “Take them, and grant us our knowledge.”

The darkness spread. Cassie stayed frozen in place, watching as it shifted and divided. It spanned out from the pool, like spokes on a wheel, snaking across the floor toward her, toward Lewis, to all the offerings. She recoiled, but Hugo's grip tightened on her shoulders. He held her in place, his fingers digging into her skin as the shadow rose from the floor in front of her, a dark column that swayed and hissed.

And then it took her.

Cassie felt the invasion, the darkness creeping into the edges of her mind. She'd thought she'd felt power when Henry had visited her that
night, but his was just a faint echo of this obliterating force. It was a hundred times stronger, wilder. Ravenous with age and neglect. She felt it, a cold, dreadful thing, and she fought it with everything she had. She struggled, sending a desperate look to Tremain, but he shook his head and mouthed,
Not yet
.

Cassie gasped for air. She couldn't hold it back, not even for a second. It was too much, too dark; it slipped through her mind, wrapping around her very soul. She shuddered, feeling the blackness seep through every part of her, a sharp pain blooming behind her forehead.

And then she felt a second force, slipping through the gaps the darkness had forced wide open. Hugo, reaching, feeding on that power through her, as if she was nothing but a vessel for the darkness. Cassie felt him splintering through her and dropped to her knees with a cry, overwhelmed. All around her, she could see the other offerings falling to the ground, their masters shimmering with black energy beside them. She felt her mind overlap with every other in the waves of darkness. Hugo, Olivia, Henry, feeding, frenzied and dark. The offerings, panicked and in pain . . . They were one. They were it. It passed through them, and around them, taking everything they had.

Cassie fought to stay conscious. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, the moment they were all linked. Taking all her courage, Cassie forced her panicked mind to still. She ignored the cries of pain around her and took a shaking breath, focusing on the darkness, tracing its contours with her mind, feeling for its shape. It shifted under her focus, ephemeral, but she clung tight, searching for some sure point in all the chaos: a root to its form.

There.

Beneath the whirl of hunger, she felt a seam in the form: a jagged edge, the split in reality that was letting the darkness through. Cassie grasped the shape, holding tight even as she felt her strength draining, forcing herself to keep hold of that one point, the beginning of everything. And the end.

Ripping herself from Hugo, she shut her mind against him and fought the darkness with everything she had. She felt its surprise, rearing up to turn on her, hissing and seething in the dark. The very ground beneath her rumbled and shook as the darkness released the others, severing their connection. There were shouts of confusion and pain as they were ripped free from the power. Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie saw everyone fall to the ground. Tremain, Hugo, Olivia, sprawling in the dirt alongside the wasted bodies of their sacrifices.

She was the only one left. Except . . . Henry. Still standing, rigid at the altar. But he wasn't standing. Cassie gasped, seeing him rise, inches from the ground. The darkness was channeling through him now, fighting her, invading deep within her mind. The pain was unbearable, splitting her brain apart, so thick she could taste the blood in her mouth, hear her own screams as it carved deeper, taking everything she had.

The walls shook again, rocks and debris crumbling from the cavern ceiling. The torches fell, one catching a corner of a tapestry, blazing up in the dark cavern. Some members were recovering now; Olivia dashed past her, racing for the door, but still, Cassie didn't dare drag her eyes away from her target. She dropped to her knees and crawled toward the altar, fighting for balance as the room shook.

Henry was all blackness and shadow, a terrifying specter as he turned to her, his eyes the darkest she'd ever seen. Cassie grabbed the knife from the altar and lunged. The knife slid into his stomach, and he let out a chilling scream, reeling back. Inhuman. Unsatiated.

The blackness recoiled, the dark shadow hissing and flickering as it snaked out of him and into the pool. But Henry's power didn't fade. His hand thrust out, grabbing at her neck, choking the breath from her lungs. Cassie flailed against him, but his grip was too strong. “Hugo,” she heard him call, blood pounding in her ears. “You must complete the ritual. You can't let it go!”

Cassie gasped uselessly, her lungs burning as she dangled over the ground. Above her, the cavern boomed and crumbled, the floor beneath
Henry shaking as if the earth itself was giving way. Hugo pulled himself up and crawled toward them, scrambling over bodies of the offerings that lay groaning, motionless on the floor.

“No,” Cassie gasped. “Please!”

But Hugo's eyes were dark as the night. He reached out and grasped Cassie's hand, and Cassie shrieked as the force drove through her again. Hugo drove inside her head, latching on to the dark power that Henry was supplying, drawing it through her until Cassie was nothing but a vessel. She struggled to hold on, but it was too much. “Hugo,” she whispered weakly, feeling the life slip from her body. But his face was a mask of ecstasy, a stranger in the dark. She didn't know this man, or his earlier promises; all was lost in the surge of heat and power.

Lanterns fell to the ground; paintings slipped from the walls, crumbling around them; but still, Hugo held tight. The darkness streamed through Cassie, ravaging, until she could barely feel herself at all. She was no person, no mind, nothing but a portal, feeling the power fill her up and empty out, over and over as Hugo grew stronger, clambering to his feet, holding her tighter. “Please,” she gasped again with her last breaths. She looked to him, her vision blurring. His face was alight with rapture, eyes wild and black.

Cassie sagged in Henry and Hugo's cruel embrace, darkness filling her, blotting out the last flickers of light. The ceiling crumbled, rock raining down as the few survivors cried out and crawled for cover. She would have wept, if she'd had the strength to muster tears. This was what she'd come here for, to die an ignoble death on a dusty cavern floor? She'd let them down. Her mother. Evie. Rose. She'd failed them.

As if from far away, she heard a desperate, guttural cry, and then someone dragged Hugo from her body. The connection weakened, and she surfaced in time to see Tremain charging back to knock Henry to the ground. He released her, stumbling back. Through her daze, she saw Tremain, scrambling wildly to hold him down. “Go!” Tremain yelled hoarsely, his hands at Henry's throat. The body beneath him
twisted and hissed, screaming an unnatural cry. “You have to destroy the portal!”

“But—” Cassie gasped for air. Another chunk of rock fell from the ceiling, crashing to the ground between them. She quickly turned to the pool, the dark shadows seething within. She grabbed a torch from the ground and thrust it in the water.

The flames flared high, an unnatural blaze in the dim cavern. She stumbled back from the heat as an inferno roared, mingling with screams that echoed from the pool, a century of darkness boiling in the depths. Cassie stared, transfixed by the flames. The portal was burning up, the connection severed at last.

Suddenly, another chunk of rock fell from the ceiling. The flames spilled from the pool, rearing higher to block Tremain and Henry from view on the other side of the room. “Go!” she heard Tremain cry. “You have to get out of here!”

“What about you?” she screamed back.

Another section of the ceiling toppled down. She leaped back, watching with horror through the flames as Tremain and Henry were buried under the rubble.

“Tremain?” she cried, as the room shook and trembled. “Where are you?”

But there was only the sound of screams and fire burning out of control. She was all alone.