I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. It seemed Mallory and I had really shared a bond after our time in Sisters of Mercy, and since then, she’d been consistently helping with training. She was often sarcastic with her help, but so was Candace, so I was already used to that.

There wasn’t time to confront her about it with the ceremony starting, and I didn’t want to do anything to screw up the chances of us getting initiated. It wasn’t done yet; Janice could still take it all away from us.

The Assembly of Seven walked out onto the stage, followed by a bright spotlight. I’d only seen Janice and Ashley without their cloaks and masks, but now they were all unmasked, all dressed in formal eveningwear. I’d seen a few of the other members around the compound but didn’t know who I was looking at. Janice led the group to the center of the stage, a handheld microphone by her side.

“Good evening, esteemed guests,” Janice said once the music reached a crescendo and died down, her voice booming throughout the auditorium. “This is a day that has been decades in the making. It’s bittersweet because it marks the initiation of our final candidate class. The four of you will help bring us—mankind—into the new world.

“When you were here the first time, you were bright-eyed and curious. I spoke of the Society, which did and did not exist. I warned you of a difficult path and turbulent road ahead. I alluded to those difficulties and trials as just being part of your candidacy. But now you know the truth—you have been shown the future—so you have seen that the difficult road persists. The future is not bright. But there is hope. If there was no hope, then there would be no reason for the Society to exist. The True North Society provides hope in a parlous future. You are now to become an extension of that hope.”

My legs shook as I gazed out into the massive audience. The auditorium was filled like the last time, with thousands of eyes focused on the few of us onstage.

“Even though the world is going to end in a few short years, it is up to us in the Society to ensure mankind doesn’t befall the same fate,” Janice continued. “We will not only survive but thrive as we escape the coming apocalypse and start anew in a peaceful, simpler time. And now you will be joining us. You are home.”

I glanced around the stage, not seeing the same setup as the last time with the bowl and pitcher… and dagger. I didn’t see anything else on the stage, making me leery of what was coming next. When my eyes stopped for a moment on Mallory, she peered over at me and smiled, a sweet smile that didn’t match the words spoken earlier. Maybe she really was the devil.

But then Vladimir entered the stage in a brilliant white toga and sandals. His impressive wings were visible, folded behind his back. He looked like a true angel—a biblical one. In one hand, he carried a broad, double-edged sword. It didn’t look like an easy feat to carry it, his large muscles keeping it steady as he strode across the stage to join the Assembly of Seven.

“No doubt you have seen the emblem of the True North Society on the forearms of its members. It is the true marker of our members, as well as a special tool. It is no mere tattoo as anyone in the outside world would have you believe, but a functioning compass always pointing to true north. And it points to true north to help keep you safe. It shows you exactly where the closest threat is, so you can either avoid it or eliminate it. I will not give you a blanket statement and say all vampires are bad—just like I won’t tell you all angels are good. Their spectrums are as wide as those of us humans. But you should always proceed with great prejudice and caution.”

Vladimir came to stand beside Janice, ahead of the other assemblymen and women.

“You have already given your consent to proceed, so I will not be asking again. Now is the moment you officially become one of us,” Janice said as Vladimir stepped forward.

He held out his broadsword, then brought the glistening blade to his left palm. I winced and shut my eyes as he forcefully ran his palm along the blade. Even though I’d seen so much blood in the hospital, I didn’t want to think about having to cut our hands open again, this time on a menacing sword instead of a dagger.

As I stood in the dark, I felt myself beginning to sway, so reopened my eyes to steady myself. But I didn’t see a pool of blood at his feet—in fact, I saw no blood at all. However, the blade of the sword was now on fire—engulfed in bright green flames, unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

Vladimir walked up to Mallory, the flaming sword at his side. “Your left hand, please,” he said in a deep, brooding voice, not reminiscent of our training sessions. He wasn’t our trainer now, but a mythical, supernatural being showing his true form.

Mallory hesitantly raised her left arm and he grabbed her by the wrist, twisting it so her forearm faced upward. Then he bent her hand back to an almost painful-looking position. Mallory stood stock still, her muscles strained, her facial features tight.

Then Vladimir let go of her arm and took a step back. He gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands and held it up. Slowly, he lowered the flaming blade until the flat side was inches from her forearm, the flames now licking her skin.

Mallory cringed and let out a soft gasp as the blade was lowered more—until it was completely resting against her skin. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open to show she was obviously uncomfortable, but she did not scream out in pain. Instead, she simply watched as the skin around the blade boiled and bubbled, some of it even peeling away as the blade was lifted. Mallory’s skin continued to bubble and melt where the sword had touched her. Residual flames still danced along the rim of the damaged skin. But in the process, I could see a design forming from underneath, like an object coming to the surface of a lake.

The compass became more pronounced as skin continued to fall away. Some of the pieces dropping to the stage were still on fire and had completely burned away by the time they reach the ground, leaving only bits of ash on the stage.

Her horror had morphed into amazement as the compass seemingly emblazoned itself into her flesh. And once all the damaged skin had burned away, what was left was a beautifully intricate design, surrounded by perfectly pale skin—healthy, but no longer matching the bronze coloring of the rest of her arm. Mesmerized, she ran the fingers of her right hand along the new design.

When she looked up, Vladimir nodded solemnly.

Then he was stepping before me with the flaming sword, asking for my left hand. I was so thankful I hadn’t been asked to go first. Even though the process didn’t seem entirely painless, I wanted that marking as much as I’d wanted to find my father, so I’d finally belong there just as much as anyone else. I lifted my left arm without hesitation.

Vladimir seized my wrist to twist my arm into its proper place and momentarily held it steady. Then in a grand gesture, with two hands gripping the hilt of the sword, he lowered the flat side of the blazing blade to my forearm.

And it did burn… but wasn’t searing pain. My arm heated up like sunburned skin under the stream of a hot shower. Not pleasant, but not agony. With the burn came a radiating energy, a powerful electricity flowing through the place where the skin was bubbling and melting away.

When Vladimir removed the flaming blade and stepped back, my arm continued to blister and burn but the discomfort was lessening already.

I watched in wonder as the compass seemed to appear like invisible ink, as more layers of my skin fell away in a pattern akin to flickering embers. As each layer was removed, a new one was instantly there to take its place, so my forearm wasn’t steadily being eaten to the bone. The skin was somehow continually regenerating, and with each new layer, the beautiful compass that always faced true north darkened until it had fully manifested.

As the last layer of skin peeled away, the heat radiating in my arm died with it. The newly formed skin was blissfully cool.

I balled my hand into a fist, then flexed my fingers, watching the design move and dance along my forearm. I’d heard how painful and tedious it was to get regular tattoos, but if they could all be done like this, then I wouldn’t hesitate to get more. Much like Mallory had, I ran a few fingers over the ridged lines on my arm. They weren’t sore at all, but my arm as a whole tingled like it was waking from sleep. And the needle was pointing to me—or behind me.

I gazed up at Vladimir, who gave another solemn nod before advancing to Zelda to repeat the ritual.

I was so in awe of what had just happened that I didn’t notice I was welling up, at least not until the first of the tears spilled down my cheek. Now, I felt I’d actually done it. Everything was finally falling into place, however that looked in an approaching apocalypse. My life had been turned upside-down by these people, but it seemed it was being self-corrected—set on a new course, a new path along which I was an active participant. I’d found my father. I now understood his primary mission, even though there was so much about him I’d yet to discover. He was driven to help humanity however he could, and even though I’d resented him all these years for leaving, I had to now admire his singular focus and determination.

I made sure I wasn’t reduced to a sobbing mess but allowed the tears to flow. They came as the overwhelming flood of emotions encapsulating everything I’d been through—from the car accident, right up to this moment—reached its pinnacle. Every step along the way had been significant and led me to this point. I had found my true north and no one could take that away.