The Ravens (The Ravens #1) - Kass Morgan Page 0,29
though Vivi had no trouble hearing her in the silent, still room. “Those of you joining us for the first time will notice that Kappa is very small—we are the most selective sorority at Westerly, and we may even be the most selective in the entire country. That’s because we look for something rare and special in our pledges, qualities that set us apart. We recognized some of those qualities in all of you, which is why you’re here this evening.”
Vivi felt a prickle of unease. She honestly couldn’t think of a single one of her “qualities” that would be attractive to the Kappas—unless they wanted pledges who’d gotten a five on the AP Bio exam and had a severe shellfish allergy. She looked around the room, wondering who else felt the same mixture of doubt and confusion. Ariana seemed similarly nervous, as did the majority of the dozen or so hopefuls. But a handful of pledges—including the redheaded girl—exchanged excited, knowing smiles.
“Kappa doesn’t have a typical recruitment process,” Dahlia continued. “If you impress us tonight, you’re in. But don’t get comfortable.” She pinned each of them with a stare. Vivi couldn’t suppress a shiver when Dahlia’s eyes met hers. “We only initiate those who bring their all to this sisterhood. Historically, at least one potential new member fails to make the final cut. Sometimes, no one makes it.”
The whole room seemed to hold its breath until Dahlia smiled again. “But tonight’s test is a simple one.”
“What kind of test?” Ariana asked. Her eyes widened in surprise after she spoke, as if the words had flown out of her mouth of their own accord. Vivi was glad Ariana had asked the question, though—she was wondering the same thing.
“You’ll see in a moment. But don’t worry—there was nothing you could’ve done to prepare, and nothing you can do to screw up. You’re either a Kappa or you’re not.” Dahlia nodded at Mei, who placed a stack of cards on the coffee table next to the candle Dahlia had just lit, a long one in an ornate silver candleholder. Vivi and Ariana exchanged a look. Did the Kappas make their decisions based on a card game?
Dahlia spread the cards out in a fan face-down on the table. “Let’s see . . . who’s first? Bailey, please take a card.” She paused. “Bailey?”
The girl with the thick glasses was looking uneasily from Dahlia to the cards. “Sorry, I’m a little confused. What are we doing, exactly?”
Dahlia smiled. “Just relax and trust us. Take a card, please.”
Bailey leaned forward, let her fingers hover momentarily in the air, then plucked one of the cards out of the fan. The moment her hand closed around the card, the room grew darker. The flames of the other candles shrank to wispy flickers, yet the light from the candle on the coffee table grew stronger and brighter, casting a strange glow on her face. “Oh my God,” she whispered, and almost released the card.
“Hold it,” Dahlia said calmly, looking amused.
The flame grew and danced until it was taller than the silver candlestick. Then the flame divided into two streams, as if the wick had split in half. A moment later, those two flames split again and began to curl in the air, looking like strands of hair made of fire. Ariana murmured something under her breath, but Vivi didn’t look at her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancing flames, which, to her growing shock and confusion, seemed to be forming an image. A glowing red-orange bird hovered in the darkness above the candle, which had gone out. A phoenix, Vivi realized. It flapped its fiery wings and began to rise toward the ceiling, then it vanished in a cloud of sparks that rained down on the circle.
It’s a hologram, Vivi thought, trying to convince herself. Or a projection. Just a trick to make all this more fun. Yet even in her own brain, the words sounded hollow.
“Please place your card face-up on the table,” Dahlia said.
With trembling hands, Bailey did as she was told, revealing an image of a beautiful woman with long dark hair and a mysterious grin. A large orange-red bird perched on her shoulder, and in one hand she held a long, slender wooden object.
These weren’t playing cards, Vivi realized as icy prickles ran down her spine. They were tarot cards. Except they looked nothing like the garish, brightly colored pack her mother used with her clients. The image on the card