Page 30 of Salem’s Rise

“In my defense, they were being annoyingly loud,” he says. “I thought it would shut them up.”

Professor Endicott’s mouth twitches before her attention shifts to me.

“Hi, Professor Endicott,” I say. “I was hoping I could ask you a few questions. I’m⁠—”

“Jackie Mercer, of course,” she says, taking both my hands in hers. “Josh showed me so many pictures of you. And look at all that beautiful red hair, just like your brother. Please, call me Bea.”

Rowan gives me a smirk. “Told you.”

“Oh, my dear. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Professor Endicott says. “I adored your brother.” She guides us toward a small staff alcove beyond the gallery, and we all take seats at a round table. “I wish you’d come earlier. I’m afraid I have a meeting shortly.”

“I tried your office,” I say.

“Oh yes, I’m dreadful about office hours.” She grimaces. “The museum has been preparing for the Fall Equinox exhibit, and I lose track of which building I’m supposed to inhabit.”

“She does that often, you know,” Rowan says to me. “Loses track of things.”

Professor Endicott points one long black nail at him. “Mr. Ashcroft, you may stay only if you refrain from your usual snarky editorial commentary.”

“I make no promises,” he says.

“Professor, what sort of things was my brother researching when he came here?”

She turns back to me. “Oh, Josh was here often during his fellowship,” she says. “At first, he just wanted background for his game. Witch trial transcripts. Colonial case dockets. Local history. But he quickly became interested in the town’s dark folklore. Secret cults. Ancient rituals. He was fascinated by all of it. That’s why his game was so clever, you know.” She gives me a little wink. “It mixed the real with the fantastical so completely, you almost couldn’t tell the difference.”

She fidgets slightly as she settles into the chair opposite mine, playing with the different crystals hanging around her neck.

“But then he stopped asking how Salem’s Fall folklore could serve the game,” she continues, “and started asking whether the folklore might actually be real.”

A chill slips over me.

“Why would he think that?” I ask.

Professor Endicott leans back, considering. “Patterns, mostly,” she says. “Your brother had a marvelous mind for them. Dates that repeated. Symbols appearing in unrelated records. Certain family names attached to… unsavory… incidents no one could properly explain.”

“The founding families?” I guess.

Her brows lift.

“You’ve been doing your homework, I see.”

“We’ve been learning about them in class. Blackhollow, Ashcroft, Hawthorne.” I think of the damaged map from minutes ago. “And another family no one seems to know much about.”

Rowan yawns in his chair, looking bored. “If this ends with another story about one of my ancestors summoning demons again, I’m leaving.”

“Quiet, Mr. Ashcroft. Stop distracting us with your terrible jokes.” Professor Endicott pauses, gathering her thoughts. “Now, where were we?” she asks and then nods a second later as if they’ve returned. “Ah, yes. The Fourth House. Historians generally believe the Fourth House either died out or was erased from later records for political reasons. Land disputes. Strategic marriages. Money.” She glances around the room before looking right at me. “But there is another explanation. From your research, have you learned about the Order of the Veil yet?”

My pulse quickens at the mention of the Veil. While Professor Pemberton had seemed panicked to talk about it, Professor Endicott appears excited.

“Not much,” I say. “What is it, exactly?”

Professor Endicott’s eyes drift to one of the nearby exhibits. “During the witch trials, a small circle of the accused were members of Salem’s Fall’s wealthiest and most powerful families,” she explains. “Some say they banded together, not only to survive the trials but to ensure their wealth and influence endured long after. They called themselves the Order of the Veil. Legend says its members have quietly ruled this town ever since.” She pauses for a moment, tapping her cane gently at the floor. “According to the ancient texts, the Blackhollows control the Veil, the Ashcrofts make it influential with their political power, and the Hawthornes brutally protect it.”

“So it’s a secret society, like the Freemasons or Skull and Bones at Yale?”

“Yes and no.” She shakes her head at me. “Many believe that what began as a pact for self-preservation gradually became something far darker.” A few pictures on the wall stir despite the absence of wind. Professor Endicott continues as though she hasn’t noticed. “They say the Veil began to perform rituals—blood sacrifices—to harness supernatural power.”

“Come on, Bea. Are we seriously doing this again?” Rowan lets out a mocking laugh. “You’ve been trying to convince me my family was part of some deadly cult since I was a kid.”