by G. P. Ching
“Damn. That fruit stuff works,” Finn said.
Mike stared at the wound, his smile fading. “Don’t you think this is strange, Finn? You’d expect this school would get sued off the face of the Earth for this stuff. You can’t do this to kids.”
“Yeah,” Finn agreed. Footsteps echoed from somewhere behind them, and Finn started walking again. “I can’t believe the headmistress ordered her staff to punch you in the stomach.”
“You can’t believe it!”
“It’s a private island. I guess they do things their own way.”
“It’s not right. This entire place isn’t right.” Mike shook his head.
Finn looked both ways and lowered his voice. “Look, maybe it’s unorthodox, but we could be out of here in a semester. We can do anything for a semester.”
Mike cracked his neck. “I guess.”
“Anyway, it’s only the first day. We have a week trial period. If it gets too bad, we’ll transfer to Lakeview.”
Mike tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “Trial period? They never told me about a trial period.”
“It’s in the contract.”
Mike shrugged. His aunt wouldn’t have read the contract. Not like Finn’s father had.
“Hey, did they lose your luggage?” Finn asked, changing the subject when the vibe got weird. He didn’t like to call attention to Mike’s parental situation.
“No,” Mike said. “Mine was delivered to my room last night. Did they lose yours?”
Finn paused at the door to the dining hall. “Yeah, my great-grandmother’s antique trunk.”
“Is there a problem, Mr. Carson? Mr. Wager?” Ravenguard said from behind them.
“No, sir.” Finn hurried inside, joining the pack of students in line for the lunch buffet. He picked up a plate and eyed the silver trays of questionable cuisine. The yellow meat was the color of chicken but the wrong shape, with bones in all the wrong places.
Mike’s hand shot out and nudged his elbow. “Finn, look.”
Finn glanced over his shoulder. Sitting at the end of the table, closest to the head table, was a neatly dressed young woman.
“Is that…?” Mike whispered in his ear.
“Amanda.” A flash of red caught Finn’s eye. Ravenguard gave them a harsh look before stationing himself inside the door.
“That’s Amanda Tidwell,” Mike whispered. “She looks like a completely different person. No purple hair. No piercings.”
Finn poked the maybe-chicken and plopped it on his plate while nonchalantly glancing over his shoulder at Amanda. No makeup. Hair cut into a neat black bob. She sat ramrod-straight and motionless, her eyes staring at the blank wall across from her.
“What do you think they did to her?” Mike loaded his plate, not even looking at the food.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“How?”
“We ask. Come on.” Finn turned from the buffet and took the seat next to Amanda. Mike sat down on her other side. “You must be Amanda. I’m Finn.” He offered his hand.
Without turning her head, her eyes shifted toward him. She said nothing. She did not shake his hand.
Finn glanced at Mike before lowering his arm and picking up his fork. A bowl of watery soup filled the space in front of Amanda, but she wasn’t eating. Her spoon rested, unused, beside her bowl.
“Not very hungry today?” Mike asked. The girl stared into the bowl like she was seeing it for the first time.
Ms. Applegate appeared at the door beside Ravenguard, the two talking softly and looking in their direction.
Finn took a bite of his lunch. “So, uh, Amanda, what have you been up to the last day? What’s this intensive training they keep telling us about?”
Her eyes shifted again and her hand reached for her spoon. With jerky movements, she scooped the soup and raised a trembling bite toward her lips. Hardly anything completed the journey and what did dribbled out the corners of her mouth and onto her shirt.
Applegate and Ravenguard appeared at Amanda’s side wiping up the spilled soup. “Ms. Tidwell, come with us. You aren’t quite ready yet.” The counselors helped the girl from her chair and ushered her from the room. They practically had to carry her.
“Did you see that?” Finn asked. “She’s a zombie.”
Mike rubbed his forehead. “Wrong. So Freaking wrong.”
Finn forgot all about Amanda when he saw Wendy approach the table with a limp. He frowned when she chose a chair next to Paul instead of joining him. At least she looked marginally better than she had in aerial class. The nose packing was gone, although a nasty bruise still bisected her face.
A plate of food landed on the table next to him. Hope sat down. “Whatever you do, don’t give them any reason to do that to you.”
“What?”
“Amanda. She looked like an empty husk.” Hope sighed in exasperation.
“Duh. This place is scary enough when you’re not in trouble,” Jayden interjected, taking the seat across from Finn. “I have a theory these people are sadists who failed out of dental school.”
Finn chuckled.
“Have we met yet? I’m Jayden Parker.” Jayden extended his hand toward Hope.
“Hope Laudner.” She reached for his offered hand but stopped short, staring at a collection of bloody spots on his uniform. “Sorry, I, uh…” She retracted her hand and lifted her fork with it.
Eventually, Jayden sat back down, hand unshaken.
Finn snorted quizzically at Hope. “Cooties?”
She broke into a smile. “I have a sense about these things.”
Mike ran his tongue along his teeth. “You are wise. He’s a well-known cootie factory.”
Jayden gave Mike the hairy eyeball, then rubbed an abrasion on his jaw and cracked his neck.
“Actually, I noticed you’re hurt. You have blood on your hand,” Hope said.
Jayden wiped his palm on his leg. “Beat to a bloody pulp,” he confirmed. “What classes did you guys have this morning?”
“Aerial and pyro,” Finn said. “You?”
“Menagerie and resilience. I was with Mike when he got bit,” Jayden said. “It was resilience that almost killed me though. Amanda was scheduled to be my partner and since she wasn’t there, I got knives thrown at me the entire period.” He dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair. “Sliced the hell out of me.”
“She truly stabbed you with a knife?” Hope asked.
He pulled back the collar of his shirt to reveal a bloody bandage over his shoulder.
“Kirsa straps you to a wheel and spins you before she throws.” Jayden picked at his food. “Creates a beautiful spirograph of your own blood when it spurts from your spinning body.”
“Do you mean to say Ms. Hildburg stabbed you on purpose?” Hope asked, appalled.
“I don’t know. She might have missed the backboard… six times.”
Setting her fork down, Hope spread her hands and lowered her voice. “Six times? That’s no accident!”
Finn coughed. “Then again, what woman wouldn’t want to stab Jayden?”
Jayden gave him the finger.
Hope chewed her lip and addressed Mike. “You got bit during menagerie?”
Mike flashed the bite scar on his arm.
“Do you think Amuke did it on purpose?”
He shrugged. “No. He told me the leopards were attracted to fear. Jayden was with me and he didn’t get bit.”
“I wasn’t afraid. I’m an animal at heart.” Jayden bobbed his eyebrows.
Hope didn’t look amused.
“Okay, to be honest, the tiger demonstration convinced me Amuke had total control. Otherwise, I might have wet my pants.” Jayden narrowed his eyes at Hope. “Why are you the only one of us not hurt?”
“I am hurt. You just can’t see it.”
“What did you have this morning?”
“Pyro and menagerie.” Hope pursed her lips. “My feet are burned.”
“Ten minutes to third
period,” Mrs. Wilhelm yelled through the servant’s entrance. Finn had a moment to notice she was holding a butcher’s knife before she disappeared again. The front of her apron was streaked with blood.
“Aaaaand now Mrs. Wilhelm holds the starring role in my bloodiest nightmares,” Jayden said, rubbing his eyes. The rest of them nodded their agreement.
“Time to go.” Finn climbed out of his chair without moving the monster piece of furniture more than a quarter inch. “I’m off to spend an hour in a cage full of hungry animals without showing fear.”
Mike rubbed his arm, his expression far too serious. Jayden clasped the big guy’s shoulder and saluted Finn. “Beware the steaming piles of mud.”
Although Amuke Mandla waited outside the boundary of a giant cage at the edge of the forest, he paced as if he belonged on the other side of the bars. His long, dark body moved like his bones could bend, fluid and nimble. Perhaps the man spent too much time with the cats. He had undeniable feline qualities.
The rustle of pine needles behind Finn turned out to be Rugby, otherwise known as Paul, racing to catch up.
“I went the wrong way,” Paul muttered. “Why would they keep the animals in the forest?”
Finn chuckled at the comment, although he found the situation just as strange. He held out his hand. “I’m Finn, by the way. We haven’t actually met.”
“Paul Stewart.” Paul’s hand was sweaty. Finn wiped the residue on his pants. “Sorry. Animals make me nervous.”
“Welcome to menagerie,” Amuke said. He stopped his pacing as soon as they were close enough to engage. “Today, we will test your ability to maintain a calm and assertive energy in the presence of intimidating animals.”
Paul stiffened. “What kind of animals?”
Amuke folded his hands. “Does the type of animal matter to you?”
“I don’t like dogs.”
Finn chuckled under his breath.
“What are you laughing at?” Paul oozed an almost palpable tension. Clearly, menagerie was outside his comfort zone.
Finn swallowed his laugh. “You look like you crush boulders with your bare fists for fun and you’re afraid of… dogs.” He stopped himself from mentioning the guy was three times his size but acting like a grade-schooler.
“I was bit as a kid. Don’t be a dick.”
Amuke cocked his head to the side. “No dogs today, Mr. Stewart.” The man reached out one paddle-sized hand and pulled the gate open. “Enter, please.”
Finn walked in, but Paul hesitated.
“Get in the cage.” Amuke’s voice was low and gravelly as a growl.
Reluctantly, Paul obeyed. He seemed relieved when Amuke left the door open.
The instructor turned toward the deep forest and placed a thumb and forefinger in the corners of his mouth. He blew a long, sharp whistle and followed it with a series of clicks. Finn waited. Within the dark recesses of the trees, a twig snapped. Then another. Something was coming. There was a moan, a growl, and then the rustle and thump of running paws. After talking to Mike and Jayden, Finn expected a team of trained leopards to emerge from the woods.
“Shit. No. No effing way.” Paul backed toward the gate.
Amuke hadn’t lied. It wasn’t dogs that came out of the woods, or leopards. It was wolves—enormous red-eyed beasts that moved from darkness into light. The pack ran toward the cage, lips peeled back from elongated fangs.
Paul came unhinged. He lunged for the gate, but Amuke pushed him back inside.
“Don’t show fear,” Finn said to Paul. “They’re attracted to fear.”
Paul looked at him like he was out of his mind.
“Breathe.” Finn grabbed Paul’s bicep and shook. He demonstrated a deep breath, blowing it out slowly for effect. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
Paul did, in time for the cage to fill with six wolves the size of bears. Their black fur filled the space. Finn froze. He could feel his heart knocking against his rib cage. He emptied his mind, forced his breath to even out.
Amuke closed and locked the gate.
“What is the point of this?” Paul asked. “Call them off, Amuke.”
“That, Mr. Stewart, would be counterproductive. You need to make peace with your inner beast. You have one, you know, a thing inside you that takes control. We all know what you did to that girl.”
“It wasn’t me.” The wolves circled.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. To thine own self be true, Mr. Stewart. You are here to change, and change requires moving beyond your comfort zone.”
Paul crouched, his eyes tracking the circling wolves. Three of the wolves lowered their heads and growled. Finn backed against the far side of the cage and closed his eyes.
“We can fight,” Paul said to Finn. “We can fight our way out.”
Finn shook his head and opened his eyes again. “We’re not going to fight. This is part of the lesson. Just relax. You’ve made it this far. All we have to do is survive in this cage until next period.”
“No. They’re going to rip us apart.” Paul’s breathing came in shallow trembling gasps.
Amuke held his hands up and lowered his voice. “They will accept you if you accept them.”
The sentiment was lost on Paul. His jaw tightened. His muscles tensed.
The wolves seemed to catch the scent of his fear. They moved closer. Finn forced his body to relax. But Paul shifted against the chain link as if he might come out of his skin. He made direct eye contact with one of the wolves.
“No way am I going out like this,” Paul murmured. He lowered his body into a fighting stance, arms wide.
“Paul? What are you doing?” Finn asked. The staring and posture were inciting the wolf. “Back off, man. Come over here. Take a few deep breaths.”
Amuke glanced between Paul and the wolf. “Listen to your partner, Paul. You are in an unwise position with this animal.”
Paul shook his head. “If I go, I’m taking it with me.” He lunged forward, gripped the wolf by the snout and twisted. There was a yelp and a crack as Paul rolled the beast onto the ground. He punched the wolf in the side of the head.
“Paul, stop!” Finn yelled.
Amuke opened the gate and rushed inside, shouting commands in another language. He was too late. The other wolves swarmed. Blood sprayed across the grass as the largest wolf clamped down on Paul’s head. The others joined in, a frenzy of ripping jaws and snapping teeth. Paul let out a brutal scream. Finn pressed up against the chain link.
Amuke grabbed Finn’s arm and dragged him through the open gate.
“Find Ms. D. Her office is on the second floor, east wing,” Amuke said. “Tell her there has been an infraction.”
Finn nodded. “An infraction.”
“Go now.” Amuke reentered the cage and locked the gate behind him.
Without hesitation, Finn ran for the school as fast as his legs would carry him.
14
The Hanged Man
Finn was through the doors and up the stairs in seconds, hands shaking and mind racing with the bloody memory of Paul’s attack. But before he could search out Ms. D’s office as Amuke had requested, Applegate appeared in front of him.
“Where do you think you’re going, Wager?”
“I have to find Ms. D,” he blurted. “Amuke sent me. There’s been an incident, I mean—” What was the word Amuke had used? “an infraction.”
A hint of mirth wrinkled Applegate’s eyes at the corners, subtle enough that Finn questioned if he was reading the expression correctly. Why would Applegate be happy about this? Shouldn’t she be concerned?
“Thank you, Finn.” She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done the right thing. But no need to bother Ms. D. I’ll handle this. Agreed?” She stared at him expectantly.
Finn nodded.
She rushed for the doors, leaving him standing in the second-floor hallway near the foyer. A squirmy feeling unraveled in the pit of his stomach. Why didn’t he trust Applegate? For some reason, he sensed
telling her was the worst thing he might have done.
“Psst. Psst.”
Finn scanned the hall in the direction of the noise. An arm extended from around the far corner at the end of the hall, the white-gloved hand beckoning. Finn glanced over his shoulder to check if the gesture was meant for someone else, but he was alone. Cautiously, he investigated. The arm was attached to a lanky body in a tuxedo, Theodor Florea, the magician.
“Finn Wager, may I have a word with you?” Theodor asked.
Finn wasn’t keen on returning to menagerie and had several minutes before his next class. “Uh, sure.” He followed the man up the curved staircase to the third floor. He had the unsettling realization that he’d seen the clown through a third-floor window the day he arrived, although that was in a different part of the building.
Theodor led him down a dim hallway lined with walnut judge’s panels and sketches of birds, to a broad archway where he blinked rapidly against the inflow of natural light. The source of the light was a long row of recessed windows, each surrounded by an alcove of books. Hardcover, paperback, and leather-bound volumes nestled in mahogany shelves.
“This is incredible,” Finn mumbled. The woodwork was fashioned in ornate patterns the likes of which he had never seen before.
“This is the library,” Theodor said. The closest bookshelf flaunted carvings of ocean scenes: ships, whales, and seashells. A mermaid bust protruded from the apex of each cabinet. “You don’t find craftsmanship like this anymore.”
Finn wandered to the next alcove. Lions, tigers, and leopards. He ran his fingers over a mane, tapped a cat’s exposed tooth. The next alcove was decorated with gargoyles, the next, pagodas. The sheer number of books and scrolls was incredible, as was the architecture and the view of the gardens beyond.
Theodor stopped in a nook decorated with stars, magic wands, and top hats. “It’s something, isn’t it? These shelves continue along the perimeter of the entire third floor. Some of these texts are over two hundred years old.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it, but where I come from, our library rents tablets. They haven’t had paper books in years.”