But before she could lift the receiver, a tall, slim figure appeared at the base of the staircase ahead of us. The girl’s pretty face was arranged in a welcoming expression, but that façade slipped for a moment when her eyes landed on me.
A shiver of recognition swept over my skin. Shonda.
“Ah, Miss Hailwood,” the headmaster said, smiling. “I was worried you hadn’t been told we arrived. This is our new Keeper, Eden Jensen. Eden, this is your floor director, Shonda Hailwood.”
After a beat, Shonda stretched out her hand for me to take. I slipped my palm against hers and held on with firm pressure. Shonda squeezed harder.
“So lovely to see you again,” she said, smiling as she strangled my hand in hers.
I extricated my fingers from her grasp. “Yeah—yes. Likewise.”
Shonda turned her attention to the headmaster. “I’ll take care of her from here. Goodnight, Headmaster.”
With a warm smile, Kemp bid the two of us goodnight before exiting through the door we had entered through. Shonda waited several seconds before turning to face me.
“Let me show you to your room.”
Without waiting for agreement from me, she started toward the flight of stairs she had come down earlier.
We didn’t speak as we ascended two flights. She held open the door at the top, not bothering to hide the way she studied me from head to toe as I walked by.
I stepped into the hall and waited for further instructions. Shonda took her time joining me, and I got the sense she enjoyed being the one who knew where we were going.
She directed me to the left and led the way to the last door on the left. She twisted open the door and stood back, watching me intently.
The sight of the darkened room beyond filled me with apprehension. What if this was a trap? Beyond Shonda, I hadn’t seen anyone else in this supposed dorm. What if it was a prison?
I dismissed the paranoid worry. Feeling Shonda’s gaze on me, I stepped forward and felt the wall inside for a switch.
The lights winked on, revealing a bedroom. Although unadorned, it was lovely in its simplicity. My room in the bunker was just large enough to accommodate a twin-size bed and a foot-wide path on two sides. This space could fit my bedroom four or five times over. Besides the bed, there was a long dresser with a mirror hung on the wall above it. A desk sat against the far wall beside a window which looked out on the forest beyond. An open door revealed a closet.
“You don’t have a roommate,” Shonda said as I crossed the threshold. “Keepers are the only ones on campus with private rooms. Besides floor directors.”
A knot in my chest loosened. Not having a roommate would definitely be a plus.
“There’s a uniform in the closet. They guessed at your size.” She examined her nail beds as she spoke, as if relaying this information was too dull to hold her attention. “Tell me to tell you if you need a different size.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine.” I hoped that was the case. The fewer reasons I had to interact with Shonda, the better.
“Breakfast is from seven to eight. Classes start at eight fifteen.”
Although the headmaster had mentioned something about the science and math academy on the way in, it didn’t strike me until now that those subjects might apply to me. I wanted to ask for details, but Shonda’s borderline annoyed expression made it clear that even if she knew anything, she had no interest in going into detail.
“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left, and if you have any more questions, my room is three-oh-one.” She flicked her gaze to me. “Have a nice night.” Although she smiled as she said it, the coolness in her eyes made me feel like the words were more threat than statement.
As she closed the door behind her, a weight of dread settled itself in my gut. Great, I’d been here less than an hour and I’d already made an enemy.
Chapter Fourteen
Although Liza had given strict instructions not to contact her until tomorrow night, the urge to do just that overwhelmed me as soon as I closed the door. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to make Shonda so angry, but she’d made it clear she couldn’t stand me. Shouldn’t Liza know I was already in danger?
But I didn’t pull out my comm. I hadn’t alerted her when the thief nabbed my bag the other day, and I wouldn’t bother her with my troubles now. So what if Shonda didn’t like me? Winning popularity contests wasn’t on my agenda. I needed to keep my eyes on the prize.
I took my time emptying my backpack, even though there wasn’t much in it. It wasn’t difficult to decide what to bring because I didn’t possess much. With careful precision, I unpacked the few garments Liza had deemed good enough to bring into the presence of what were sure to be judgmental angels. As I moved, I took care to study the crevices of the dresser and the joining of the wall and ceiling overhead, checking for any hint of a camera or microphone. After changing into my pajamas—a pair of stretchy black pants and a gray tee-shirt—I explored the rest of the room, attempting to look like a wide-eyed new student instead of a spy.
After half an hour, I was relatively certain there were no surveillance devices planted in my room. When I finally turned out the light and slid into the bed, exhaustion overtook me. It may have been the steady rush of adrenaline that had fueled me for the last couple of days or simply the way the mattress seemed to conform to my body and she sheets slipped across my skin like flower petals, but I was asleep in seconds.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the green numbers on the digital clock on the night stand informed me it was seven forty-five.
“Gates prevail,” I snapped to the empty room as I bolted out of bed. Shonda told me that breakfast was from seven to eight, and the gnawing ache in my stomach let me know skipping the meal was a terrible idea. I was no stranger to hunger. While I’d never been starving or desperate enough to steal, there were times when I’d subsisted on one watered-down ration of protein paste per day. Times like those, my brain was sluggish and my temper short. Not the best qualities given my present circumstances.
I stumbled to the dresser and was reaching for one of my black tee-shirts when I remembered something Shonda said last night about a uniform. They would probably expect me to wear it.
The garments in the closet looked just like the outfits Kouri and Clio had been wearing. Like guard uniforms, but black instead of dark blue. My stomach churned as I changed into the stiff fabric and buttoned up the shirt, but I tried to keep my expression impassive. Wearing these clothes was just part of the assignment.
After I stuffed my feet into the heavy black boots which sat beside the door, I darted out of the room and to the stairs.
The hallways were as empty as they had been last night, but the current of electricity in the air that made me think there must be some people awake and on the move. But I didn’t run into anyone on my way out the door.
The campus had been glorious last night under the stars, but today in the sunlight it was even more magnificent. The windows all glittered in the early morning light, and the blazing oranges and reds of tree leaves made the buildings seem as if they belonged among the natural landscape. Even the air was different here—sharp and somewhat sweet.
It was a far cry from the streets of Cameron Heights.
I struck a brisk pace toward the building Headmaster Kemp had identified as the dining hall last night. A crowd of people were exiting, and I kept my head down as I wove through the black-uniformed cadets. A few gazes flicked to me as I slipped through the group, but no one said anything.
Since the headmaster’s first mention of a dining hall, my mind began conjuring images of what this area would be like. None of them came close to reality. I’d pictured a utilitarian room with long rows of tables filled with cadets shoveling protein-heavy ration bars into their mouths. Instead, the expansive room was brightly lit and painted snow white and peppy teal. Instead of long tables, dozens of smaller, round tables with funky-looking molded plastic chairs pushed in around them filled th
e space.
Only when I felt eyes on me did I shake myself. I couldn’t be standing around open-mouthed. Although the dining hall was mostly empty, the thirty or so cadets remaining were taking note of my appearance. Ignoring them all, I entered to food line to the right.
I lifted a plate from a small stack and set it on a light gray plastic tray. Beyond the clear plastic shield were stainless steel basins scraped almost entirely empty of their contents.
“It’s pretty slim pickings at the moment,” said a woman behind the counter. Her graying blonde hair was doing its best to escape from the hairnet she wore, and her white apron had smears of what looked like brown gravy. “I think I still have a waffle, if you’re interested. And there’s some fruit salad left.”
“Um, sure. I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” After a beat, I handed her my plate. She bustled down the length of the counter, lifting lids here and there and scooping out portions as she went.
When she returned, she pointed along the adjoining wall. “There might be some juice left at the drink cart.”
I took the plate from her. “Thank you.”
A smile curved her lips. “You’re welcome, cadet.”
After a quick stop by the drink cart where I located enough juice to fill half a glass, I carried my tray to the nearest empty table and took a seat. Although the cafeteria worker had claimed the pickings were slim, there was more variety packed onto the plate before me than I’d ever seen in one place. Not only had she given me a waffle and fruit salad, there were two links of sausage, a scoop of scrambled eggs, and a triangle of buttered toast.
In other words, things I’d only ever seen in the old, water-warped cookbooks in the library above the bunker.
I was short on time before classes started, and my stomach was churning with hunger, but I fought the urge to bolt down the food as quickly as I could. Instead, using the silverware I’d grabbed from the end of the food line, I sampled each item on my plate.
Flavors and textures overwhelmed me, and it took considerable control not to moan with pleasure. The waffle was both crisp and soft and chewy all at once. Together, the strawberries, blueberries, and orange slices were sweet and sharp. The savory flavor of the sausage was more complex than the bland ration bars that made up the bulk of my diet. The eggs and toast had textures unlike anything I’d ever tried.
So this was what proper food was like.
I took as much time as I dared savoring my breakfast. The dining hall steadily emptied, and I knew I couldn’t stay here forever.
As I finished the last few bites of waffle, a shadow fell over the table. I glanced up to see a cadet of around fifteen standing over me, a notebook clutched in her left hand.
I struggled to swallow my last mouthful. “Can I help you?”
The girl eyed me shrewdly. “Cadet Jensen? I’m Maisie Moran.” She held out her free hand.
Was this how all cadets greeted each other? Not wanting to seem rude, I slid my palm against hers. She gave a firm shake before releasing me.
“I’ve been assigned to show you to your training gym. I checked your room first, but you weren’t there. If you’re done eating, I can show you to the way.”
I glanced down at the empty plate and glass on my tray, then at the nearby tables littered with similar breakfast remnants. “Do I just leave this here?”
Maisie tipped her head to the side, squinting as she studied me. “Actually, the staff prefers if we bus our own tables.” She pointed to a spot along the wall near the door where I’d entered. “Garbage is over there.”
I scanned the room. I was the only remaining diner, but trays, plates, cups, and napkins littered more tables than not. If the staff wanted people to take care of their own dishes, why had so many cadets elected to leave theirs on their tables?
This felt like a test. I knew that fitting in here was key to the mission’s success, but cleaning up after myself was so hard-wired in my brain that I knew leaving my dishes behind would haunt me all day.
Without looking at Maisie, I picked up my tray and headed for the garbage can. Once everything was in its place, I turned toward the members of the kitchen staff who were scraping the last remnants of food from the trays and settling clean plates and silverware in their place. “Thanks for breakfast.”
The man stacking dishes at the front of the line turned, surprise clear in his expression. “You’re welcome.”
“Come on,” Maisie said, a small smile curved her lips. “This way.”
As we stepped out into the brisk morning air, Maisie flipped open her notebook and cradled it in her left arm. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions, Eden? Is it all right to call you that?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It’s my name, so I don’t see why not.”
Maisie nodded as we walked along the brick walkway. “What are your first impressions of Blakethorne?”
“Um. It’s nice, I guess.”
Her head bobbed as her pen glided across the page. “And how are you feeling about your new role as a Blade Keeper?”
My stomach twisted. “I’m not really sure what my role even is. Are you writing down what I’m saying?”
She glanced up. “Of course. This is an interview. Sorry—wasn’t that clear?”
“I thought you were taking me to the training gym.”
“I am. I’m also interviewing you. Multitasking.”
I shook my head. “Interview over. I…” I groped for a logical reason not to answer a few questions. “I don’t want to be late on my first day.”
Maisie studied me again with her piercing hazel eyes before flipping her notebook closed again. “Fair enough,” she said, tucking her pen behind her ear. “But I’d still like to do a feature on you in the school paper.”
“The school has a newspaper?” Great. I wondered how many more cadets would try to ambush me with questions.
“Not exactly,” Maisie admitted. “I mean, the headmaster doesn’t stop me, but my publication isn’t exactly school sanctioned.” She pointed at the building on the right. “This is us.”
Part of me wondered why Maisie was acting like a reporter if there was no official school paper, but any questions died in my throat as we turned toward our destination.
“There are a couple dozen separate training rooms,” Maisie said as she pushed open the doors. “Teams of cadets rotate in and out of these gyms, but the Keepers have a private one in back.”
Exactly what kind of training were they expecting me to do? Keepers were warriors. Was someone going to teach me to fight?
When we finally arrived at the special gym for Keepers, Maisie stopped short and gestured toward the door. “Hey, Eden?”
I met her hazel eyes. “Yeah?”
The corner of her mouth tugged upward. “Good luck.”
I wanted to thank her, but I couldn’t find the words. I settled my hand on the doorknob. My skin tingled and my breath caught. I had no idea what would face me on the other side of that door. What if they expected me to work with the Aether Blade today? Begging it to keep my lineage a secret had worked once, but there was no guarantee it would happen again.
I felt Maisie’s eyes on me. It wasn’t as if I could just stand out here all day, and I got the feeling she wouldn’t leave until I was safely inside. I twisted the handle.
When Maisie said she was taking me to a training gym, imagined sets of weights and benches and machines for working distinct muscle groups. And while there were some of those things in the large, open room, they were off in one corner. A matted, ringed off area—clearly designed for sparring—dominated the bulk of the space. Weapons of various sorts lined the wall on the left. The wall straight back boasted grips and toe-holds for climbing.
Standing in the middle of it all was a tall, slim man with slicked-back silver hair and a sharp jaw. His piercing gray eyes landed on me as soon as I stepped inside. “Ah. Miss Jensen.”
My stomach jolted at the sound of my assumed last name on his lips.
The fo
ur people standing in front of the man turned. Recognition twisted through me. I knew all four of them. Well, knew was overstating, but I had seen them all before. Kouri, the cadet who had stopped the mugger and who I’d swung the Aether Blade at during the trial. Clio, who had fixed my hair before I saw the headmaster. Bridger, who had found me lurking on the second floor of City Hall and placed me in line. Although I had no name for the fourth cadet, I recognized him as the one who had been standing with Bridger and Clio at the front of the stage.
Things began clicking into place. That was why they were all separate from the trial. They weren’t regular guards making sure no one tried to steal the Aether Blade—they were the other Blade Keepers waiting to find their fifth member.
The silver-haired man beckoned me forward. “Come meet your teammates.”
It took more concentration than usual to make my feet step one in front of the other. My chest constricted like a snake had wound around my body and was slowly crushing the life out of me. They were going to figure out who I really was.
A voice in the back of my head rebuked me. They’ll only figure you out if you give them a reason to. Act like you belong and no one will question you. The voice, which sounded a lot like Liza, sent a wave of calm through my body. It was true. How many times had I snuck into somewhere I had no right to be? No one had ever been the wiser because I pretended like I was supposed to be there. And here, I had a built-in advantage: They had brought me here themselves. They already thought I belonged, so all I had to do is not blow it.
I stopped in front of the other Keepers and held my hand out to the person closest to me. “Thanks again for stopping that purse-snatcher.”
He tipped his head to the side as he grasped my hand. “I’m not sure you thanked me to begin with, but I suppose I can let that slide.”
I offered the easiest smile I could muster. “That’s very big of you, Cadet Kouri.”
The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Nate. Aura Blade”
Clio offered her hand next. “Clio Brooks. I’m the Ignis Blade’s Keeper.” She smiled brightly. “Told you I’d see you again.”
Traces of Sulfur: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Series (Blade Keeper Academy Book 1) Page 10