Page 8 of All Saints: Pledge

“That’s a pity.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, still watching his progress. He’s gathering plastic cups from tables, but on top of his tray are two goblets—crystal goblets. And a bottle of amber liquid that I assume is scotch. Something itches in my brain, and I do a quick scan of the room.

I don’t see anyone else drinking from nicer glasses.

And now the guy appears excessively focused on a set of shelves near the lecture hall’s back door. He pulls the string on a lamp that doesn’t light. Tossing a cheeky look over his shoulder, he meets my gaze and tilts his head like he wants me to follow him. Then without seeing if I do, sweeps around the door jamb into the dark stone hallway and vanishes.

4

“Where are we going?” Clara hisses in my ear as I drag her to the shelf. I peek around the door. There’s no guy with a tray out in the gloomy hallway. So where did he go?

Pictures of men and women in fur stoles, many of them wearing crowns, line the hall. Kings. In a corner. I push Clara back into the room, enough to study the lamp the black-haired guy touched.

“Have you lost your marbles?” Clara yanks her arm away from my hand. “It says to be here at eight. We’re here at eight. We can’t leave. What if our attendance matters to the scholarship?”

“Don’t you think it’s odd they don’t spell outhowwe get our scholarship renewed? It’s so vague.” My words are directed to the lamp I’m fiddling with. There are two chains. I pull one and am rewarded with a face full of amber light. I pull the other one and there’s a click like something opening, but nothing about the lamp or table changes.

Clara sniffs. “That’s just how the English do it.”

I tug at my hair in frustration before I see it. Just beyond the table, a paneling in the wall hangs loose. It’s a door. Asecretdoor.

I don’t ask questions. Looping an arm through hers, I pull poor Clara into the dark. Which it turns out, is actually a staircase. So we trip and fall down a short flight of stone stairs until we collide with a wall. We both push up off the wall, and Clara yanks her arm from mine for a second time. Above us the door clicks shut, and we’re plunged into further darkness.

“For God’s sake, Helena, what is wrong with you? Where are we?”

Face pressed to cool gritty stone, my eyes adjust to the dim lighting—and there is lighting beyond the staircase. We’re on a landing, and to our left, a short flight of stairs leads into a room. I leave Clara to make her own decision and step down the stair just as someone starts speaking. It stops both of us in our tracks. It’s Kendall.

“If you’re here, you’ve passed our first test. Welcome to Alpha Tau Epsilon, or as we call it, All Saints.”

The ornately carved stone chamber holds around twenty people, all seated at tables with name cards. Tables draped in heavy velvet, set with crystal goblets and fine china. A far cry from the cheap-feeling reception upstairs.

I wind my way through tables, looking for my name. Maybe ten other spots with place cards sit un-filled—likely people who hadn’t found the secret entrance. My card sits next to Clara’s, finishing out a table of four. I slide into the chair, and turn to face Kendall.

I swear his gaze glitters as it passes over me. I give him the sweetest smile I can manage. Clara opts for meek and quiet as she slides in next to me, studying the table instead of Kendall’s face.

“As I was saying, if you’re here, you’ve passed the test. Some of you had help. We permit help for this first test only, as a means of helping distinguish preferred applicants and Legacy applicants whose families have been here before. If you received help, consider yourself lucky.”

My eyes slide from Kendall to the server in the corner, holding a tray. He meets my gaze and winks. I’m floored. Why would this beautiful man help me? I don’t have time to wonder much though, Kendall continues.

“The meeting sorts those who want to leave voluntarily from those seeking full membership. All Saints is not merely a scholarship committee, but a sacred fraternity. An Oxford Dynasty. We’ve operated in honor and secrecy here at Oxford since 1443—in conjunction with the founding of All Souls college. Part of the paperwork you signed to receive the scholarship for this term is an ironclad NDA. You may noteverspeak about this meeting, nor anything else you experience to anyone but myself and the other pledges in private. The punishment for doing so is…unpleasant. We would not have invited you here if we were not confident in your ability to follow the agreement.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Record screech. A…what now? A secret fraternity? I’ve heard of Oxford’s resident Secret Society, Bullingdon. Everyone knows Bullingdon is mostly a drinking club for rich kids that dabbles in philanthropy. I’ve never heard of All Saints, and there is zero air of frivolity or jocularity.

“I am Kendall, and I am the prefect for our pledge year, and I am a Legacy, selected as prefect because of my Legacy status. I will act as a liaison between the members, who often wish to remain anonymous to non-members, and our class. ASC will select candidates from among you to become full members of the fraternity. Likely anywhere from five to ten of you, though there have been years where we’ve gone without selectinganyone. You can be an initiate for multiple years, but if you are ever passed over for re-selection in any test but the final, you may not re-apply. There will be four tests to pass, three after tonight, and at each point moving forward an individual may leave of their own accord. Monetary rewards are given to every participant of every test, including those who are not selected to move on in our process. As the test progresses, the payment increases. If you gain full membership, your compensation varies by individual, but let me assure you, we’re talking about life-changing amounts of money. And access to the full compliment of what the fraternity can do to assist you in your life outside of Oxford. ASC will be paying your tuition in full—and have detailed our academic expectations on our agreement—up until you fail to pass a selection criteria or leave of your own volition.”

A murmur breaks out, but Kendall holds up his hand. “As a fraternity, we work hard serving our school, our organization, and our philanthropies in that order. It will not be easy. Does anyone here wish to excuse themselves?”

Holy shit. Tests. Does he mean hazing? The ambiguity gives my stomach a turn. People have died in hazing rituals at American universities. I cannot fathom what hazing for a secret society looks like. The promise of life-changing rewards certainly keeps me in my own seat.

No one moves.

“The identity of full members is secret until you are a member yourself. Their communication to me is in writing, and through encrypted e-mail so don’t ask me questions about them, I only know what they wish to tell me.”

Bullshit. If his father is in on this, and I suspect he is in leadership given my formal interview, Kendall knows a whole host more than me.

“I cannot stress enough that you will be observed in how you conduct your every day life. Only people of the highest moral excellence can gain entrance to this fraternity, and for those willing to pay the cost, the gain is immeasurable. Virtus solas potestas. Virtue alone is power.”

Clara and I exchange glances. It’s so…medieval. I’d bebonkersto stay. I should get up and walk my butt out of this room…virtue alone is power, my ass. But my heart beats a little faster at the mention of monetary gain. Life changing money is likely in themillions.So much good can be done with millions of dollars. I could graduate with no loans. Donate to charities. Create political superpacs with a chance at actually changing policy. Run for office. I square my shoulders. I could change the course of history.

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