Page 37 of Ravenous Prophecy
“Ugh. This is root beer.”
“Serves you right.” I turned to put the kettle on, then decided to throw in one last dig. “Ass.”
The coffee might have just been an excuse to dismiss me so that the grown-ups could actually talk about the occult. By the time I came back with two steaming mugs, Brigette and Bradley were already engaged in lively and animated conversation, as if we hadn’t just dragged ourselves through an exhausting fight.
They still accepted their drinks, though. Brigette nodded as she set hers aside. Bradley cupped his hands around his tea as if the mere act of holding the mug brought him warmth. I didn’t miss how he took the time to give me thetiniest smile of gratitude. Something in my chest made a somersault.
Bradley was never more alive than when he was so immersed in his work. Finally, an opportunity for his studies to be taken seriously, and here he was conducting a whole lecture for someone who was supposed to be his rival. It must have been so satisfying, earning the respect and academic attention he deserved.
“This right here,” Brigette said, jabbing a finger at the documents she’d retrieved from Kane’s shop. “These glyphs. Do you see how that matches up with the manuscript?”
Bradley nodded so quickly I thought the glasses might fly off his face yet again. “I knew I recognized those symbols. I think if we match up enough of these runes, we’ll be able to translate more of the manuscript.” He turned to me, eyes as huge as saucers, sparkling with excitement. “It’s like a key, Griffin. A cipher. I think we might have cracked the code.”
He could have said that to Elaine, who was sitting on a cleared area of floor doing stretches. He could have said it to Julian, who was making faces while sucking on his root beer. But no. He’d said it to me. The somersault turned into an entire floor routine. I left the brains to continue their work, stepping back into the kitchen to get myself something to drink.
By the time I returned, Elaine had set upon herself the monstrous task of putting Bradley’s apartment back together. I followed her example, picking up stray pieces of paper, overturned books, scattered belongings, and furniture.
I followed the trail of devastation around the apartment and found my work grinding to a dead halt when I picked up a fallen button-up shirt.
Oh god. I was standing right in front of Bradley’s bedroom, wasn’t I? The door had been left ajar just a crack, the room no doubt ransacked as badly as the rest of the apartment.
But I wasn’t a creep—or didn’t want to be seen as one—and with the heavy, syrupy weight of Julian’s gaze on my back, I lifted my nose in the air and strode respectfully away.
All the while, I heard snatches of discussion from the bookworms. The conversation had risen to an excited peak, and now they were repeating the same two translated words.
“Hive Father,” they said. “Hive Father.”
Now, where had I heard that before?
“Griffin!” Bradley cried out.
I nearly jumped out of my own skin.
“The oracle from the encampment. Remember Zuleika? She said something about a Hive Father.” He poked his finger at the pages so hard I thought he might stab right through the paper. “Something here—we can’t quite translate it, but it mentions a Hive Father.”
Julian frowned, gesturing with his nearly empty bottle of root beer. “What the hell is a Hive Father supposed to be, anyway?”
“We’re not sure,” Brigette said. “But it doesn’t sound good.”
Bradley pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If there’s supposed to be any sort of hierarchy to Hive society,then I think it’s safe to assume that a Hive Father is something far bigger and meaner than your garden-variety locust. It’s fascinating—but so very unsettling all at once.”
Elaine set down a pile of novels and frowned. “It sounds to me as if JA Williams wants to summon one of these things. Ritual sacrifices to power handmade artifacts, fragments of ancient manuscripts, and now a named entity—isn’t that what this all points to? Textbook ceremonial magic. Some blood, a book, and a big, evil thing?”
Bradley nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what it sounds like. All those sacrifices—Williams has already killed so many innocents. Blood on his hands, all for the helmets. For the Hive. We have to stop him.”
“And we have to do it soon,” I said, desperate to release the tangle of dread building in my body. “I don’t know the first place to start, but we have to stop this from happening.”
Bridgette shook her head. “Well, it’s not like we can just walk up to his offices and confront him.”
The silence hung in the air. It sounded ridiculous, and yet what other course could we really take?
“A head-on assault would probably end up with us dead,” I said. “I’m all for taking action, but as much as I hate this Williams character, I also accept that he’s smart. And dangerous.”
“Maybe I know a guy,” Julian said, “who knows a guy. And maybe we can all work together to unravel Williams’s operations, ruin his plans of rounding up more sacrifices. It’s not much to go on.”
Elaine nodded, hands curled into fists. “But it’s a start.Anything’s better than sitting idly by while these murderers carry on slaughtering the innocent.”
“Then it’s the plan, or the start of one,” Brigette said. “Let’s get a move on.”
