ELEVEN: BLOODSHED
Everyone followed Mrs Tumblestream’s lead, each donning their hoods and picking up a candle. Fanning out into a square formation, they bordered the bed-sized cloth that had been rolled out onto the centre of the floor.
So far, so good, thought Blott.
He didn’t see why his father had been fretting. His vision had gone a little woozy and everyone was grinning like a maniac, but none of them seemed to be in any danger. It was just a ceremony like any other. He had attended hundreds like it during his life.
Usually, Blott and his family would meet Seraph and her parents at the temple every weekend. The friends would pass the time by shooting knowing glances at each other every time one of the speakers said something pompous. Some days, it was like watching a comedy with e
