by Emme DeWitt
The chemical green orbs hung suspended on a black face and shimmered with every minuscule twitch of my traitorous muscles. It was like watching myself through a tinted mirror. Even trying to stand completely still, my feet wavered to correct my balance, and my boots creaked in protest as I swayed imperceptibly back and forth. I squinted my eyes at the guard cat, its tail flicking in laughter.
“If you’re looking for a password, I don’t have one,” I said, breaking the silence of the deserted academic quad. The cat’s ears flicked forward, responding to my voice.
We waited it out for several more minutes.
Then, the cat sneezed.
I took the momentary lapse to leap over it and through the front door, pulling it shut behind me before the little dragon could get in. I leaned against the door, shaking my head loose of its ridiculous thoughts.
“If this is keeping it together, I’m a little worried what berserk looks like,” I scolded myself in the warm entryway. Unlike the dining hall, the small room was lined with tapestries and oil paintings, softening the clatter of my boots on the marble floor. It seemed much homier than the former cathedral and less institutional than the administration building. I noticed the old smell of books still hanging in the air as I trotted up the small staircase to the next landing, my footsteps muffled by plush carpet.
As I took in the details of the library, my boots scuffed softly on the carpet and my head rolled back and forth trying to take note of the ceilings, exit signs, and general signage. The information desk sat empty, and my class schedule mentioned only a study carrel number. The maps I’d been given were not for the interiors of buildings, only the nicely painted aerial view of campus proper.
I found a side staircase, but my only option was up.
Easily enough, I made my way to the second floor. Only part of this floor was filled with book stacks. Much more furniture squeezed its way between the stacks, slowly thinning the books and taking over the remaining floor plan. An odd line formed where the carpets changed from a plush cherry red to a flat muted crosshatch, and I stood under a large plate glass skylight. In front of me, the smell of plaster still hung in the air, crowding out the slight moldiness of aging paper.
The floor dropped away in the middle, allowing the distorted beams of the skylight to break the barrier to the first floor as well. The small lanes created by this opening allowed enough space for three students to walk abreast. A series of doors with numbers like the ones on my schedule lined the walls. So these were the study carrels.
I walked slowly past the dark rooms, finding all of them encased in glass, completely open to the view of any passerby. Great. I would be stuck in a glass cage for students to stare at me while I navigated my calculus homework.
I snorted, shoving my hands deeper into my jacket pockets.
The hallway stretched even further, so I followed it to see what else the library had in store.
The glass cages ended after I counted ten. I would be curious to see how filled they were throughout the day, or if I was blessed to be one of the few caged students with the privilege of private study.
At the end was a large observatory. The ceiling domed high above me, making the space seem much bigger than it was. The bookshelves in this room seemed to be the same as the others in the library, but they looked child’s height under the expansive ceiling. The floor was covered with round tables of various sizes ranging from a coffee table barely able to hold my book bag to a table that could seat twelve.
I scoffed again, thinking of King Arthur.
A sneeze greeted me.
My head swung around but not fast enough for my scanning eyes. I didn’t see a single soul in the entire room. I strode quickly to the end of the room, where a door was set into the wood paneling. If I hadn’t placed my hand on the wall, I might have missed it. My fingers caught on an elaborate sun carved into the wall.
I stepped back, surveying where the door melted into the background of the wood. Now that I was looking for it, I could see a barely defined outline a little thicker than the other panels. My fingers reached out automatically to trace it again.
This time, I kept my hand on the wall, dragging my fingers against the smooth grain and the steady bumps of the vertical boards. I paused when they hooked on another design.
An ornate maple leaf came to life under my searching fingertips.
On a hunch, I quickly moved along, following the tight hug of the circular room until I stood in front of the final carving.
A snowflake.
My hand instinctively went to my chest and the inner pocket where I’d tucked the old ornate key. I was itching to open it, but the sneeze came again and my hand snapped back to my side.
The sneeze had been much closer this time. My left hand was still touching the snowflake, and I was torn. Investigate what was behind the door, or investigate the allergy-ridden snoop?
I felt a bump on my shin.
I looked down, my reverie broken by the odd feeling.
And found myself staring into a pair of green lanterns.
I jumped in belated surprise, letting out a yell that echoed back at me with unexpected force in the carpeted room. The cat snorted at me, licking its paw and proceeding to clean its face. I grabbed the shoulder strap of my bag, frowning at the tricky little cat.
Just like at the library entrance, it seemed to be guarding the door, expecting some sort of password. After taking a moment to clean both sides of its face, the cat put its front paw down resolutely, looking at me with those unblinking eyes.
“Open sesame,” I said with a head nod toward the door. The cat scooted its butt to block the door, blinking once slowly at me. I crossed my arms.
“What’s your issue?” I asked the cat, whose only response was a flick of its tail. “I see.”
My eyes narrowed at the cat as I wondered if it would be worth it to try to move the darn thing so I could check out whatever was behind the door. If it had its own guardian, I had a hunch it would be something worth looking at.
I reached slowly into my jacket pocket, and the cat’s eyes followed my every move. I pulled the key out of its hiding spot, holding it up in front of the cat’s face.
It sneezed at me, pulling its hind leg up and proceeding to clean its undercarriage.
“Seriously?” I said, my voice rising higher than I’d intended. “Could you just move, please?”
The cat continued to clean itself.
“I’m giving you fair warning. Then I’ll move you however I like.” I gave the cat a pointed look.
It paused briefly in cleaning itself, as if contemplating my threat. Clearly I had not been harsh enough because after very little consideration, furry little Satan continued its morning bath.
A growl escaped me, and I could feel the warmth tickle my throat. I slapped my hand on my throat, scolding myself for my rashness. I couldn’t afford to break out into song right now.
The cat finally paused its cleaning, choosing to stand and shake out the tufts of hair that had raised after my growl. Finding my threat empty, it sat down again and resumed its favorite pastime—staring me down.
A loud sneeze broke the tension.
Both the cat and I jumped at the unexpected sound.
Another sneeze erupted right next to us, this time accompanied by its owner. A curtain of long dark hair hung around the girl’s face, obscuring it from my view. With a pang of recognition, I realized she looked like the ghosts in Japanese horror movies, which just made me want to laugh. The girl walked directly in front of me, making a beeline for the cat.
In less than a second, the cat was upended in her arms, its legs stuck up indignantly as she cradled him like a baby. She turned to me, part of her face peeking out from the dark hair.
“He’s the worst when meeting new people,” she said, her voice warm and friendly as if we had been friends for years.
I nodded, as if I knew exactly what she meant. Something else itched in the back of my head, another familiarity
.
“Hey, have we met before?” I asked her, trying to get a better look at her obscured face. “Didn’t I see you at the administration office yesterday?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” she said with a sheepish grin. She lifted up her cat-filled arms. “I’ll get him out of your way for a while.”
The girl turned to go, but I grabbed her arm. She froze, her neck disappearing beneath her tightened shoulders.
“Sorry.” I released my hold on her arm. I’d only meant to ask her name, but I was taken aback at how my light touch had made her flinch. I let her scurry away with the crazy cat before I could fight against the instinct I had felt. It didn’t quite feel like me, but after another few thoughts, it seemed something Adele would scold me about. I’m sure no one really likes to be grabbed randomly.
I lost myself in thought, my thumb stroking the ornate key I still held in my palm. Even without the guard cat, now didn’t feel like the right time to go in. If that girl was here, that meant more students would be coming shortly. I might as well get a head start on my pile of self-study work.
With one last touch of the carved snowflake, I pushed off the wall, darting through the bookshelves and tables to my assigned glass box. Now seemed the perfect time for calculus. I needed to clear my head and think about concrete equations with definite right and wrong answers. Something told me it would be one of the few times this place made any sense.
Ten
Adair found me collapsed on top of my Latin text with my curls splayed out across the various marked-up pages of translation footnotes.
“Hey,” Adair said, knocking politely on the open door.
I’d tried working with the door shut, but something about my breathing bouncing back at me in the vacuous room was driving me insane. After about twenty minutes, I’d propped it open.
My head popped up from its uncomfortable pillow of glossy bound paper.
“Hey,” I said, my voice froggy from disuse.
“Sorry to wake you. Time for class.” His brow furrowed in thought.
I flicked my eyes down to my nest of notebooks and texts, quickly putting them back in order and ready for their home in my bag.
“No worries.” I laughed inwardly about his worry. He couldn’t wake me from sleeping. Even during the day, I couldn’t nap. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually slept.
“How’s your first day?” Adair asked as we trotted down the stairs and out into the quad.
I shrugged, happy to match my long stride with his. The sun had broken from the cloud cover, letting a few rays warm my face on our brief walk.
“Riveting,” I said dryly.
Adair chuckled. “Yeah, private study can do that to a person. How many hours do you have back to back?” he asked politely.
“The whole morning,” I said.
He grimaced in sympathy. “Mine are spaced out, so I don’t mind it. If your tutor doesn’t come, though, you can always go back to the dorm,” Adair offered. “Mine comes about once a week like clockwork, so I get away with not being in the study rooms much if I can help it.”
“Good to know,” I said as we jogged up the stairs. I whipped out my phone, noticing how close we were cutting it. “Sorry, we’re almost late.”
“We’ll live,” he said as he pushed through the door.
I ran into his back. We both grunted at the unexpected impact.
“What gives?” I asked, unable to see past his shoulder. He turned to face me briefly.
“Mags and Aileen are at it again.” Adair sighed.
He managed to weave through the wall of student bodies that had clogged the hallway outside the lecture hall. I followed close behind, trying to get an idea of what was going on before I entered the fray.
Adair had made it ahead of me to the center, but I hung back to witness what looked like the showdown of the week. Students near me were already speculating on what had set them off this time.
Mags and Aileen faced off against one another. The murmuring of the students distorted what they were saying, but the body language was close to a fistfight. Aileen was flanked by the twins, and as much as they tried to look haughty and strong, they kept sharing nervous glances. Aileen’s cheeks were flushed, and she kept trading verbal spars with Mags.
Based on Aileen’s agitation, I would put money on Mags being the winner of this particular battle. She seemed self-assured, her eyes dancing with glee as she flung insult after insult at her favorite opponent. Adair walked up to Mags and spoke a few words in her ear. She seemed to pout momentarily before nodding in agreement.
I pushed through the crowd again, finally breaking the inner circle.
“Jeez, Aileen, I was just trying to be friendly,” Mags said with a wicked grin.
Aileen looked like she’d been slapped in the face. This must have been a complete one eighty from their previous exchange of words, and Aileen was not prepared. Her lips spluttered as if she couldn’t find any words to fling back.
Aileen’s eyes caught mine as soon as I broke free from the circle. I walked up between the two girls, sharing a quick glance with Adair, who gave me a slight shrug.
“Hey guys.” I ignored the huge crowd surrounding us. “Aren’t we going to be late to class?”
Aileen stomped her foot, letting out a very unladylike growl. Mags replied with a too sweet honey smile.
“You’re right, Noah. We should really get to class.” Mags turned on her heel and walked directly into the lecture hall. Adair followed like a shadow, and I turned to go after them.
Someone grabbed my wrist.
My eyebrows rose high on my forehead for whoever had grabbed me. Aileen’s desperate face searched mine.
“You need to stay far away from her.” Aileen’s wild eyes watched Mags’ back going into the hall.
“We’re roommates. That’s going to be kind of hard.” I shrugged.
“You’re in the Landing?” Aileen’s voice broke. She released my arm like it had burned her. The twins gasped. “How?”
I replied with a shrug. “No idea. I just go where they tell me. And right now, they’re telling me to go to class.” I took another step, but Aileen’s voice made me pause again.
“Something’s not right. This used to be a safe place. That witch has ruined everything,” Aileen said, the venom in her voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “All you Landing kids are bringing this school down with you. I’m not going to stand for it.”
Aileen shoved past me into the classroom. I cocked my head to the side as her words ran on extended loop in my brain. I had no idea what she was referring to, but it made me pause. Both Sean and Aileen felt like something was going on, and I couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t felt a little off center since I got here.
I realized belatedly that the hall had cleared, and I was the only one not in the lecture hall. The bell tolled for class, and I lunged for the door, shutting it behind me.
As I turned, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Below me sat a bowl-like amphitheater with almost a hundred students in rickety wooden fold-down seats. My eyes scanned the rows of students, and almost every other student pinged my memory. One after another, death loops came to mind, and the hole in my stomach grew. It was like this morning, only way, way worse. I stopped counting once I hit fifty.
I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath. I could feel multiple eyes on me, and my feet moved of their own accord. I slid into an empty seat just before the side door opened and the teacher walked in. The loud echo of the door slamming shut brought me back to my senses a little, and I was able to grab a notebook and pen from my bag. I set my pen down firmly on my notebook before my shaking hand could drop it. I clenched my hands together in my lap to the point of pain. Anything to keep me grounded.
“Good morning, class,” the teacher said.
A booming echo of staggered good mornings replied, and I flinched, biting the inside of my cheek hard. Facing forward, I put all my energy in
to focusing on the teacher.
The name Ms. Xavier was scrawled on the chalkboard in the corner along with the homework and reading for the next day. I did my best to neatly copy the information into my notebook as Ms. Xavier lectured. Once I was done, I attempted to follow the lecture and take notes. I could hear the scurrying of pens across paper around me in the hall, but my pen barely moved.
The weight of the stares was like a suffocating blanket around me. I couldn’t even be sure they were actually looking at me, but every time my eyes flicked up from my notebook to find the professor, they crossed the path of no less than five night visitors. The death loops assaulted me, and I closed my eyes again.
“Are you okay?” I thought I heard a voice say. Suddenly, I couldn’t feel the weight of my pen in my hand any more. The hinge of the desk platform in front of me squeaked. Magically I had a little more space to breath.
“Put your head between your legs,” the voice said. “Breathe deeply. You’ll be okay.”
I did as I was instructed, my clammy forehead resting on the slightly itchy fabric covering my knees. And then, for the first time since I’d been little, I passed out.
Eleven
I woke up with a start.
Looking around, my eyes registered something vaguely familiar, yet simultaneously horrifying. The trees crowded around me, but I could still see slivers of the midday sky above them. Even the dips in the uneven ground felt like they came from a distant memory. Then it hit me.
I was in my dreamscape.
But it was daytime.
I twisted around, the ground clear of the usual silent fog. Instead, I was grabbing at grass below my fingertips. The rustling alone made me freak out even more.
I leapt up from my seat on the ground, and the scuffle of my feet against the slightly dusty ground assaulted my ears. I groaned.
“Oh, this is so not good,” I said pathetically. My hands shot to my temples, shielding my eyes from the vast periphery of the day-lit dreamscape. “How the hell did I even get here?”