“Larkin!” Barclay hissed. The snake became Larkin’s arm again in an instant.

“Jeez. Just tryin’ to lift the mood around here. You’re all such a bunch a whiners.” Larkin’s eyes flickered yellow, slitted. Snake eyes.

“Larkin, I said that was enough.” His father gave him the kind of look only a father can give a son who’s always disappointing him. Larkin’s eyes changed back to green.

Macon took a seat at the head of the table. “Why don’t we all sit down? Kitchen has prepared one of her finest holiday meals. Lena and I have been subjected to the clatter for days.” Everyone took their seats at the enormous rectangular claw-foot table. It was dark wood, almost black, and there were intricate designs, like vines, carved into the legs. Huge black candles flickered in the center of the table.

“Sit over here by me, Short Straw.” Ridley led me to an empty chair, across from the silver bird holding Lena’s place card, as if I had a choice.

I tried to make eye contact with Lena, but her eyes were fixed on Ridley. And they were fierce. I just hoped Ridley was the only one her anger was directed at.

The table was overflowing with food, even more than the last time I was here; every time I looked at the table there was more. A crown roast, filet tied with rosemary, and more exotic dishes I’d never seen before. A large bird stuffed with dressing and pears, resting on peacock feathers arranged to resemble a live bird’s open tail. I was hoping it wasn’t an actual peacock, but considering the tail feathers, I was pretty sure it was. And sparkling candies, I think, shaped exactly like real seahorses.

But no one was eating, no one except Ridley. She seemed to be enjoying herself. “I just love sugar horses.” She popped two of the tiny golden seahorses into her mouth.

Aunt Del coughed a few times, pouring a glass of black liquid, the consistency of wine, into her glass from the decanter on the table.

Ridley looked at Lena across the table. “So, Cuz, any big plans for your birthday?” Ridley dipped her fingers into a dark brown sauce in the gravy boat next to the bird I hoped wasn’t a peacock, and licked it off her fingers suggestively.

“We’re not discussing Lena’s birthday tonight,” Macon warned.

Ridley was enjoying the tension. She popped another seahorse into her mouth. “Why not?”

Lena’s eyes were wild. “You don’t need to worry about my birthday. You won’t be invited.”

“You certainly should. Worry, I mean. It’s such an important birthday, after all.” Ridley laughed. Lena’s hair started to curl and uncurl itself as if there was a wind in the room. There wasn’t.

“Ridley, I said that’s enough.” Macon was losing his patience. I recognized his tone as the same one he’d had after I took the locket out of my pocket, during my first visit.

“Why are you taking her side, Uncle M? I spent just as much time with you as Lena did, growing up. How did she suddenly become your favorite?” For a moment, she almost sounded hurt.

“You know it has nothing to do with favorites. You have been Claimed. It’s out of my hands.”

Claimed? By what? What was he talking about? The suffocating haze around me was getting thicker. I couldn’t be sure I was hearing everything correctly.

“But you and I are the same.” She was pleading with Macon, like a spoiled child.

The table began to shake almost imperceptibly, the black liquid in the wine glasses gently sloshing from side to side. Then I heard a rhythmic tapping on the roof. Rain.

Lena was gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. “You are NOT the same,” she hissed.

I felt Ridley’s body stiffen against my arm, which she was still wrapped around like a snake. “You think you are so much better than me, Lena… is it? You don’t even know your real name. You don’t even realize this relationship of yours is doomed. Just wait until you’re Claimed and you find out how things really work.” She laughed, a sinister, painful sort of sound. “You have no idea if we are the same or not. In a few months, you could end up exactly like me.”

Lena looked at me, panicked. The table began to shake harder, the plates rattling against the wood. There was a crackle of lightning outside, and rain began pouring down the windows like tears. “Shut up!”

“Tell him, Lena. Don’t you think Short Straw here deserves to know everything? That you have no idea if you’re Light or Dark? That you have no choice?”

Lena leapt to her feet, knocking her chair over behind her. “I said, shut up!”

Ridley was relaxed again, enjoying herself. “Tell him how we lived together, in the same room, like sisters, that I was exactly like you a year ago and now…”

Macon stood at the head of the table, gripping it with both hands. His pale face seemed even whiter than usual. “Ridley, that’s enough! I will Cast you out of this house if you say another word.”

“You can’t Cast me out, Uncle. You aren’t strong enough for that.”

“Don’t overestimate your skills. No Dark Caster on Earth is powerful enough to enter Ravenwood on their own. I Bound the place myself. We all did.”

Dark Caster? That didn’t sound good.

“Ah, Uncle Macon. You’re forgetting that famous Southern hospitality. I didn’t break in. I was invited in, on the arm of the handsomest gent in Gat-dung.” Ridley turned to me and smiled, pulling her shades from her eyes. They were just wrong, glowing gold, as if they were on fire. They were shaped like a cat’s, with black slits in the middle. Light shone from her eyes, and in that light, everything changed.