“What makes us different? What makes The Swords important? Worthy?” He walked forward and stood right at the edge of the altar. “We combine science and religion. We delve into the psyche, explore the mind, and go past barriers that were put there. Sometimes these barriers are put there by others, and sometimes we put them there ourselves. Barriers are a form of protection. They’re important. But you’re a Sword now and barriers are meant to be broken. So, let’s begin, shall we?”
Two young monks dressed in brown cloaks brought out a bench and set it at the center of the altar, behind the priest. The priest raised his hands in the air and everyone in the room stood, including me.
“If the ladies of The Swords would please step forward and circle around the altar,” he instructed, then looked at me. “Not you. Not yet.”
The women on either side of me stepped forward and stood facing the altar. I hadn’t taken a good look at their faces, but I knew some of them were much older than others by the way their shoulders slumped a bit, as if they’d been carrying the weight of the world on them far too long. The priest walked up to the first one to his left and did the sign of the cross over her head as she bowed her head. He continued on, going down the row of women as we all stood and watched. When he reached the last one, he glanced over at me and signaled me to walk over. I fought the urge to look at Adam behind me, to seek his counsel.
When I made it to the front, two of the women parted without even looking at me, and I took a step up to where the priest stood. He did the sign of the cross in front of me and I bowed my head slightly. When I looked up again, he put his palm over my forehead and left it there as he spoke.
“Can you see?”
“No,” I whispered, not with his hand on my forehead and the sleeve of his robe blocking the view.
“Yet we see for you.”
“You have allowed yourself to become trapped by the outside world, your family, your past, your origin, and have blinded yourself to what is real, what is important. Tonight, this changes. Tonight, we will reach the root of your anger, your pain, and we will set you free.” He pressed his hand a little harder. “Leave us, Swords.”
I couldn’t see, but I heard the whoosh of robes moving, the patter of footsteps as they departed, the door as it closed, and the sound of silence as they followed his directions. Only then, did the priest take his hand off my forehead and let me see for myself. The women were there, their heads bowed to us. I looked at the priest, who was watching me closely.
“You’re a child of God.”
I swallowed, nodding.
“Do you attend Mass on Sundays?”
“I try.”
“Your parents are Catholic?”
“Yes.” The word came out a whisper.
“Are they alive?”
“My mother.”
“You were adopted.” He glanced at the women beside me. I nodded. Instinctively, my gaze followed his and I saw a few of their heads raise before quickly lowering into a bow. “How old were you when you were adopted?”
“Months old.”
“Too young to have any memory of your birth mother.”
I nodded again.
“Would you like to remember?”
“I . . . how?”
“Don’t question me. Answer the question. Would you like to remember?”
“Yes.”
“Lie down.”
I did as I was told, lying down on the bench that felt like it was made of rock, my back already complaining with discomfort. I turned my head to look at the women, who were still standing, heads still bowed even as the priest busied himself at the altar. I grabbed the fabric of my robe to keep the dress I wore underneath covered.
“Many think that because The Swords haven’t allowed women to stay in recent years it must mean we’re becoming an all-male society,” he said as his hands moved the chalice on the table he stood in front of. “But The Swords would be nothing without women. After all, there would be no men without women. There would be no Christ without Mary.”
“Without women, we would cease to exist and that is true for the entire world, not just The Swords.” He walked back over to me holding a gold chalice between two fingers. “Because we are cognizant of that, we handpick the women we invite to join. Every thirty years, one of those women must make a choice, a sacrifice, for the greater good of the society. For us to grow, flourish.”
My heart quickened as he spoke, but I didn’t dare speak. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t find my voice, my words, my questions.
“Women have been making sacrifices since the beginning of time. It is why the world continues to spin on its axis. It is why life does not stop. The day women stop making these sacrifices, the sun will stop shining and Earth will stop spinning. We will no longer have anything to hold us together.”
“Now, I will ask you to drink from this chalice, one that all of your sisters have drunk from before you. You will free your mind tonight. You will let us see through your barriers and into your depths. Tonight, you become a Sword.”
He walked over to me and kneeled beside my face, holding the chalice to my mouth. “Drink.”
I hesitated. All his talk about sacrifice making me think of death, making me question whether or not that would be my fate tonight, but I looked at the women with their heads bowed, and thought of Stella, and Dr. Thompson, and the woman the monks had been having sex with. I thought of all of the men standing outside of these walls. Would they let me get very far if I ran? Did I even want to run? He promised me memories. He promised me freedom. Wasn’t that what I was here for? And so, I tilted my head slightly and drank from the golden chalice, swallowing slowly as the liquid spilled from either side of my mouth. The priest wiped my face gently as I drank. It tasted bitter. When he was finished pouring the wine in my mouth, he stood and stepped back. My vision got hazy quickly, the room spinning as my heart sped up. He spread his arms open once more and said, “Sisters.”
I could barely make them out, only flashes of red as they walked onto the altar and surrounded me. Their chants filled my ears. Their movements blurred with my vision. I tried to place the chants, what they were saying. It sounded familiar, too familiar, and then just before my eyes shut the world out completely, I realized where I knew it from: it was what the monks had been chanting around the naked woman.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Adam
They were taking long inside and I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed back in. I hadn’t been there for a woman’s initiation before. Truth be told, part of me didn’t actually believe in the whole women’s history in The Swords until I saw the row of women standing in front of me. There was something eerie about all of it. If they’d been so important to The Swords, why hadn’t they recruited more of them? Why hadn’t they been included in the narrative they spun every time a new member joined?
I hadn’t gotten a good look at any of them, just the back of their heads as they stood there. When the priest said they initiated women every third year, I became even more confused. The last time we had women here was two years ago, not three. The Swords didn’t count failed initiations though, so those women were written off anyway, no mention of them spoken outside of the core members who were there when they were. Every third year. The words seeped back into my head. Had they stayed, this would have been their third year. Shit. I tried to think of any commonalities they had with Eva, with Stella, but none came up. As far as I knew, they didn’t even have siblings, so Eva’s theory of multiples wasn’t valid. One thing I knew for sure is that I hated being kept in the dark. I was the president of the goddamn secret society and I had no idea what was happening right under my nose. Why have a president at all? For pretenses?