Harry cleared his throat and began. “There are written legends found all over the world with a single common thread. They include a rock, large as a house, falling from the sky and landing softly at the base of seven hills.” The bonfire exhaled a whorl of embers. “Visions of this meteorite are in the histories of civilizations separated by thousands of years and thousands of miles. Told by shamans, diviners, and priestesses.”
Viv floated to the boys, spindly and ethereal as a spider. “These civilizations sent their explorers and hunters out in search of the meteorite. Some of those who looked believed the rock was a source of magic. Others believed it was a hungry spirit that needed to be fed sacrifices.” She withdrew a collection of hat pins from a satin pouch. Each were burnished to a piercing shine, capped with black stones, her great-grandmother’s once upon a time.
I was sure I could hear the stampeding heart of our captive sensing the instruments of its death near. “Living in these hills was a strange pack of animals.” I recited my lines without giving them thought, too distracted by listening for the beat of wings. “The animals were carnivorous. They fed on the people who came. This went on for thousands of years, tribes arriving to find the seven hills and the rock, the hoofed beasts driving them away. This idol belonged to a group of believers who worshipped her in a land far away from here,” I said, brushing the Mistress in Harry’s arms. “Her name translates to the Mistress of Rebellion and Secrets. Her Order of followers had a prophecy.”
Viv pressed her finger to the points of the pins as she spoke dreamily. “It foretold her falling to Earth on a star. Her believers only needed to find the star and then she’d bestow on them the ability to tell the future. When they learned of this rock and our seven hills, they knew it must be the place. When they arrived, the fanged animals met them. But they were different from the tribes that came before. They were skilled warriors. And they killed the entire pack and put their corpses on the meteorite to swear a blood oath to their goddess.”
“Just as we’ll swear a blood oath tonight,” Graham’s voice boomed. A collective shiver coursed through the initiates.
Harry took over from there. I was caught in staring at Graham, his cookie-stealing expression amplified, pulling a heist on the whole world. “The Order of believers soon realized that their Mistress had fallen to Earth as the star, not on the star,” Harry said. “And every hundred years they buried two birds, animals they believed were from the sky like the star, as a blood sacrifice. This went on for four hundred years.”
“But then the settlers came,” Graham said.
“Seven Hills was founded right where my house is,” Viv told the group, her eyes skittering across the timeless dark beyond us. “It was lawless, and the strong took advantage of the weak. The Order of IV put aside their ceremonial robes, buried their idol, and retreated into the hills, where they became a mountain rebel force.”
“A guerrilla army.” Graham grinned menacingly. “Their idol and their history were buried to be recovered in a safer time. They had passed down stories of the fanged creatures that had lived in the hills, and so the Order left paw prints in blood and animal carcasses on doorsteps. They frightened away the worst people from Seven Hills. Whenever injustice was here, they marked the guilty with blood. They kept order.”
“You remember when the scientists came to study this rock—our meteorite—and its drawings?” I asked. I knew they did. The scientists and their findings inspired months of lessons in our classrooms. For a while it was our town’s claim to fame and curious tourists would trickle up on the Marlos’ property until they posted all the Private Property and Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted signs.
“One of the anthropologists was younger and she used to talk to us. Her expertise was in folklore and legend. She excavated the birds that were buried in sets, wings pointed north, south, east, and west,” I said. The initiates drew forward. “Everyone knows about the birds. But what she never shared with the other scientists was that she also uncovered this idol. The birds, the meteorite, the drawings, and the idol were all parts of an urban legend. She’d thought the Order of IV was just a story, until her discovery confirmed its existence.”
“She told Graham, Izzie, and Viv the story we’ve told you,” Harry said. “She made them promise to keep the idol safe until it was time to revive the Order of IV in Seven Hills.”
“She told us we’d know when the moment was right,” I said. “And we did. We started out small with the school dress code and Bedford. But the Order isn’t small.” I went to stand in the exact spot I’d found Goldilocks in. “A girl not much older than us was killed in Seven Hills. She was left right where I’m standing, five years ago. Someone tried to make her look connected to the rock. The police didn’t care. The mayor didn’t care. Our neighbors didn’t care even though some of them heard suspicious noises the night she died. No one helped. All of them think they’ve gotten away with it. They think she didn’t matter because she was young, because they called her a runaway.” I raised my chin in defiance. “The Order of IV has come back to Seven Hills. It’s time the adults know we’re watching them. They’re not in charge anymore. It’s time we make them pay for the girl’s unsolved murder.” There were four sets of glassy eyes on me—the girls and Campbell nodding with conviction, ready to march off to avenge her. There was a skeptical slant to Trent and Conner’s heads.
“Seven Hills is ours,” I said. “It can be yours too.” I met Conner’s stare. “We’re its keepers. We decide who’s wrong and right. Who gets punished. You can too.” I paused, let it sink in, felt victory surge through me when Conner swallowed. He wanted it.
“To join us, you’ll have to complete initiation rites,” Harry said. “After these rites, you’ll belong to the Order of IV.” Empty promise. They’d never belong in the way we did.
Viv explained the procedures for the rites. An acolyte’s role to play was a rite; these rites together added up to the larger rebellion. Initiates would be given a sequence of them. Instructions would be delivered in secret, one at a time. The initiate needed to memorize it and then destroy the paper trail.
Graham crouched to open the trunk as Viv handed a hat pin to each initiate, touching the lance to their shoulder like a queen knighting subjects.
“Each of us will drive a pin into the same heart and swear an oath to the Order of IV,” Viv said unfalteringly.
Graham’s legs straightened and he turned, revealing the dove. It was frozen in terror, a dim rattle coming from its throat.
Jess cursed under her breath. There was a nervous flutter of laughter, a This is not for real feeling. But they all came forward. The dove’s head twitched back and forth; its yellow talons curled in on themselves.