Technically the feather ceremony was a mere formality—this was just the first step; the real choosing would happen during the first test night, when the sisters saw what kind of crop they were working with this year. If they were lucky, they’d find at least one girl per suit, which would keep the house well rounded. Wands witches like Dahlia worked fire spells. They tended to be healers and athletes. Swords witches like Tiffany specialized in air—literal air, like the wind, and things to do with memory, mental control, and influence. Pentacles witches like Mei worked with earth magic, such as glamours that altered the appearance of things in the physical realm. They usually had serious green thumbs too.
A Cups, Scarlett was best around water spells—scrying, manipulating minor bodies of water, altering the chemistry of liquids (including beverages). Cups witches were also rumored to have the advantage when it came to casting love spells, though Scarlett herself had never needed to.
Every suit had both minor arcana—easy everyday spells—and major arcana. The latter were things witches could do only in extreme circumstances or by expending a ton of energy. A Cups could create a rainstorm like the one Scarlett had conjured when Minnie died; a Swords could summon a tornado or hurricane; a Wands could burn a forest to a crisp if she desired; and, in theory, a Pentacles could set off an earthquake, though to Scarlett’s knowledge, no one ever had.
But the reason it mattered so much who they picked to join Kappa was that the Ravens had discovered how to bind their magic to one another’s. Each full moon, they performed a house-wide union ritual that gave each Raven the ability to use the minor arcana of every suit, not just her own. It was what made them the most powerful coven in the world.
And these weren’t the only decisions happening today. This was also the meeting when Dahlia would pick jobs for the top contenders for president. Scarlett was keeping her fingers crossed for membership chair. Everyone knew it was the most important job—the lucky sister was tasked with ushering the new members through the pledging process, essentially mentoring the newest class of witches. If the membership chair did a good job, she almost always ended up president.
And if Scarlett got the job she wanted, she had the perfect way to celebrate. She was meeting up with Mason after this for a proper hello . . . assuming she could get herself in the right mindset for it after everything that had happened this morning.
Dahlia finished the vote for a girl named Kelsey; only a handful of feathers changed colors. Next up was a gorgeous South Asian girl with a chin-length bob and piercing brown eyes.
“Sonali’s mother, Aditi Mani, was a Raven,” Dahlia said. “And although we don’t show special favoritism toward legacies, it is something to take into consideration, since we know magical ability tends to run in families, and her mother was a fairly powerful Cups witch. Yes, Etta?”
Next to Dahlia, Etta was sprawled barefoot on the grass, dressed as usual like she was about to audition for the part of a fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, her skin milky-white in the sunlight. “You said she wants to go into politics. Are we talking Reese Witherspoon in Election . . . or Elizabeth Warren in 2020?” The other girls around the circle leaned in with interest. Etta’s concern was valid. Witches with political ambitions were always viewed with more scrutiny. Ravens who mixed power with politics had to be beyond moral reproach.
“Hazel, you spoke to her more than I did,” Dahlia said. “What was your read?”
Across the circle, Hazel, a Korean-American sophomore from Florida and a Wands witch like Dahlia, looked up from her hymnal. She wore leggings and a running shirt, though judging by her perfectly sleek bun and the lack of sweat on her face, Scarlett guessed it was because she planned to go for a run after this meeting, not that she’d just come from one. Then again, with Hazel, it was hard to tell. She was Westerly’s resident track star, and she had a sprint time that made Scarlett feel terrifyingly out of shape. She also somehow made athleisure look elegant even at a mixer, while Scarlett always felt underdressed in gym clothes, even at the gym. “She’s whip-smart, ambitious, but still scrupulous. More of an idealist than a charmer.”
“I’m all for a Raven in the White House.” Etta nodded and relaxed.
“And her name will be Scarlett Winter,” Tiffany teased with a smile to Scarlett.
Scarlett returned the smile, loving that Tiffany always had her back.
“But Etta’s right, we should stay vigilant on this one,” Jess, the lead reporter for the Gazette, added in what Scarlett had come to recognize as her “I’ll get to the bottom of this myself” tone. Jess’s suspicion made Scarlett want to root for the new political witch. She knew now what color her feather would be.
“Do your worst, Lois Lane,” Dahlia quipped. “All those in favor of extending a bid to Sonali?”
Each girl around the circle picked up her feather. Scarlett snatched hers up from where it had fallen beside her. Again the feathers ruffled and deepened to the shade of midnight. At a whispered command from her, Scarlett’s changed color too, making for a unanimous vote. She gazed around the circle at all the other Ravens, her sisters, with pride. These were girls who, once upon a time, had faced this same process. Whatever faults they might have, they were bound by more than just magic. The Ravens were a sisterhood. A beautiful, diverse sisterhood built on love and power. The girls they voted in now would become their Littles, the next generation. Girls who would one day carry on their legacy.
“Next up is Reagan Ostrov, who has a very interesting background.” The image of a girl with fiery red hair filled the page, and as Dahlia spoke, words appeared showing Reagan’s history and potential futures. There was a murmur among the Ravens.
“She’s a witch, although her family descends from a different coven in New Orleans. She’s fully aware of her powers, but it’s unclear what level of control she has. There was a fire at her old school. It was discovered quickly, and luckily no one was hurt.” Dahlia’s smile was grim. “It started in the theater, where, coincidentally, Reagan had just been passed over for the lead in the school play. It took four fire trucks to put it out.”
“Looks like we have a Fire sign on our hands,” Mei said.
“Obviously, she is powerful, but she poses a risk. This kind of magic cannot be done publicly.”
“You can’t be suggesting we don’t invite her?” Scarlett asked, surprised. Scarlett had always subscribed to the notion that Kappa was as much about sisterhood as it was about magic, but Dahlia looked at it a little differently. She wanted Kappa to be the best—the best sorority and the best coven. And to her, that had always meant initiating the most powerful witches.
Dahlia shook her head. “Just that we have to be careful with her.”
Even before Dahlia had finished talking, all the feathers transformed. Reagan Ostrov was in, and Scarlett couldn’t help thinking that the Ravens would deserve what they got.
“Very well,” Dahlia said.
Something soured a little in Scarlett’s stomach when they all turned to the next page of the book, and she saw the annoyingly naïve, brown-haired white girl she’d handed a sparkler to staring up at her. Vivian Devereaux, the page said.
“She told me she didn’t even want to pledge,” Scarlett said before anyone else could speak up. “Why would we consider someone who doesn’t like us?”