Page 80 of His Wicked Charm

Excitement flared in him. “The designs for the keys!”

“Look at the different heads on the keys. One has the spoked wheel one often finds on the artifacts around here. I think that’s a symbol for the sun. And above it a yellow citrine.”

“So it stands for the sky? Intellect? Blair’s key. The three parallel undulating lines...” Con pointed to another of the drawings. “The sea?”

Lilah nodded. “A sapphire for it. My grandfather’s.”

“So this last one with the obsidian decoration and, fittingly, twisting snakes would have been Dearborn’s.” Con drummed his fingers absently on the table. “You’d think he would have written more about what he believed.”

“Perhaps he did. We didn’t finish searching the Clock Room last night. There may be more in those cabinets.”

“Then let’s go back.”

They spent the rest of the morning rummaging through the things in her grandfather’s desk and cabinets. Late in the morning, Con, to his great delight, found a carved spiral embellishment on one of the drawers that he was able to push to the side. Beneath it lay a smaller strip of wood. When he turned it, there was an audible click.

“I knew it! A secret drawer.” He felt beneath desk and found a shallow drawer that slid out. He pulled it out and set it down on the desk. “Lilah, come look. I’ve found something.”

Together they bent their heads over the piece of paper lying inside. Lilah had come to recognize her grandfather’s spidery handwriting by now. She read out loud.

“All that we have, we owe to you. All that we are, we offer to you. Out of fear and darkness, you revealed your glorious being and entrusted to us the knowledge of the Otherworld. In humility and joy, we give you this, our sacred vow:

“We pledge to you our lives and our devotion. We honor the old ways. We revere the ancient gods. We believe in a life renewing. We are forever the holders of the Gateway, the guardians of the Path. We stand constant in our faith, knowing that for eternity we shall be blessed to reside in peace with you.”

“Their creed. Fascinating.” Con reached down to pick up the paper. “Look. There’s another page.”

“It’s their order of worship.”

We march in solemn procession.

Unlocking of the door in unison.

Assemble at the altar.

Presentation of sacrifice.

Offer of blood.

We lay hands upon the altar and recite the creed.

Receiving of gifts.

Final prayer.

Recessional.

“Sacrifice. That’s a bit frightening.” Lilah turned to Con. “You don’t think they were...sacrificing animals there, do you?” Her stomach began to churn.

“I doubt it. Sacrifices could be anything—gifts of fruit, for all we know. Or even giving up certain things, as with Lent. ‘I swear to forgo cigars the next three months.’”

“But what about this ‘offer of blood’?” Lilah pointed out.

“Sounds like it was in addition to the sacrifice. My guess is they made a small cut on their wrists or hands, say, and all three of them dripped a bit of blood onto the altar. Blood oaths, that sort of thing.”

“Then they put their hands on the altar and said their creed. And look...” Lilah pointed at the bottom of the page. “Here’s a drawing.” She frowned over the rectangle with three circles grouped around it.

“The way they stood at the altar,” Con said. “And this is no doubt the final prayer. ‘O Gracious Mother, we thank thee for these, thy gifts. Renewed, we go forth, confident in thy bounty and in the fullness of thy love.’ Amazing how a ritual makes one go back to thee and thy, isn’t it?” Con mused.

“I like the way he underlined solemn procession.”