by Dylan Steel
On the other hand, the incident with Mr. Walsh was still fresh, and it wasn’t all that surprising that he was cautious about the damage a new crop of students could inflict on Eprah’s historical treasures.
Mr. Strick had made a point of backing up Mr. Gramples’ speech with one of his own. He emphasized the important role the Archives played in preserving Eprah’s history. Young students, he explained, were not capable of understanding the great depth of attention that went into protecting Eprah’s relics and could scarcely be trusted with their care.
Sage had to fight back a loud sigh at that point in the lecture. They may as well have just taken her aside and told her not to take anything out of the building ever again. Their point came across quite clearly.
She wound her way through the labyrinth of doors and halls and stairs until she came to a familiar room. She’d managed to slip out of the main library unnoticed, but she wasn’t quite sure what would happen if she was caught in the cataloguing room. Perhaps she could just feign ignorance and hope for the best.
After all, exploring the uncategorized relics was a perfectly legitimate way to conduct research, and she was technically still in the process of choosing a topic. Surely she wouldn’t get in trouble for exploring different avenues of study.
Pushing open the door to the room of haphazard artifacts, Sage stumbled inside. She wasted no time. Ignoring the precarious piles surrounding her every step, she hurried down the familiar aisles until she came to the far corner of the room.
Her eyes darted over the heap where she’d once found a curious picture. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. Another book? Another picture? A tie clip one of the Original Five had once worn?
The lack of direction was infuriating. She wasn’t sure why she thought she’d be able to find something now when she hadn’t for months before. And this time she didn’t have any help.
“This is useless,” she sighed to herself.
A few aisles over, a pile of relics suddenly came crashing down. Sage jumped. She’d thought she was alone.
Sage rushed over to the avalanche. An older student was stuck, trying to push her way out from under a set of mismatched lamps and a comically large stack of oil paintings.
“Mroophff,” she grunted.
“Are you ok?” She offered the girl her hand. The girl took it gratefully and pulled herself up.
“Thanks,” she said. “I didn’t realize how careful you had to be in here.”
“No kidding.” Sage fought back the urge to roll her eyes.
“I thought I heard someone come in. But I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. The acoustics in this place…” she trailed off as she looked around the room.
“I didn’t know anyone else was here. I—I’ll leave.” Sage tried to hide her frustration. The kind of research she wanted to do shouldn’t be done around anyone else.
“Don’t be stupid. There’s plenty of room for both of us. I mean, seriously, we almost didn’t even know the other was in here.”
Sage hesitated.
“Oh, and hey, we might even be able to help each other! There’s way too much stuff in here—could save each other some time and let the other one know what’s worth checking out or not.”
Sage nodded slowly. “Good point.” She had to play along—she didn’t want the girl to be suspicious of her motives for being there.
She paused and tilted her head, eyeing the other girl. “Do I know you?” A wave of realization swept over her. “You’re one of the instructors.”
The girl laughed. “Student instructors. Yeah.”
“You look…” Sage searched for the right word. “Different.”
She laughed again. “You mean when I’m not drenched in sweat with an angry look on my face?” She shrugged. “That’s just part of Bokja. From what I hear, you should know all about that.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” The girl smiled, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m just teasing. It’s Lita, by the way.”
“Sage.”
“I know.” She snorted at Sage’s obvious confusion. “You’re making quite a name for yourself. Seems like you’ve been busy since you got to the Institution.”
Sage’s face reddened. Why did everyone seem to know so much about her?
Her expression softened a bit. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. But any Level Eight who’s in the tournament is going to get noticed. You held your own well enough though, from what I remember.”
Sage shook her head. “I won a few matches, but—” she remembered Kai’s criticism of her complacency, “—I’m sure I could’ve done better.”
“We all could,” Lita said thoughtfully. “And that’s exactly the attitude you need to get better.”
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t there for advice—she still wanted answers.
“Listen,” Lita continued, “I could use some help cleaning this mess up. Not that I figure anyone’s coming down here to see what I did, but I’d rather not chance it. Mr. Strick’s a real pain, and I can just imagine what he’d say.” She shuddered.
“Sure.” Sage stooped down and started to help stack the relics back against one another. Lita joined her.
The silence didn’t last long.
“So do you think Mr. Walsh is coming back?” Lita threw her shoulder against a vase, knocking it back into the pile.
Sage dropped the books she was trying to add to the stack.
“Dunno,” she said, bending down as far as she could so that Lita couldn’t see her face. She didn’t expect to ever see Mr. Walsh again. But she wasn’t about to share that information with her companion.
“It’s just weird, right? One day he’s here, and the next he’s gone.” Lita balanced a painting on its side.
“I mean, normally, the administration tells us when Beautification’s had to get involved. It happens sometimes. No biggie.” She braced her arm against a tilting relic and looked at Sage. “Like last year, I had three different advanced mathematics instructors.”
Sage gaped at her. “You mean…”
“Yeah, they’re definitely gone. Not surprising. They were total jerks—and pretty young, so it’s not like they had tons of Chances. They must have done a good job of ticking someone off.” She shrugged and turned back to the pile. “But every time, the headmaster—well, his projection, at least—told us they’d failed Eprah and wouldn’t be back because Beautification had dealt with them.”
Reluctant to get too excited, Sage took a few deep breaths, allowing Lita’s words to sink in. There was a chance Mr. Walsh was still alive. And that he might come back.
“Yup, so they never told us that about Mr. Walsh. And anyways, that’d be a real surprise. He’s so nice, you know? It’s hard to imagine him losing all his Chances.” Lita flicked a marble into the pile. “I, for one, really hope he comes back soon. Not sure I can stand a whole year of Mr. Strick.”
Sage hoped so too. More than anything, she wanted to tell him how sorry she was.
“He mentioned you, you know.” Lita said over her shoulder as she balanced on her tiptoes against the relic heap.
“Mr. Strick?” Sage’s eyes widened.
“Nah, Mr. Walsh.” She fell back on her heels and clapped her hands together to get rid of the dust they’d been collecting.
“I don’t think you want Mr. Strick to remember you enough to mention you to someone else,” Lita chortled. “Anyhow, Mr. Walsh seemed to like you a lot. I’m sure he’d be glad you’re back in this Interest Society.”
News of his high opinion of her nearly made her retch, but Sage forced a smile.
“I didn’t realize he’d said anything about me.” Sage lifted an eyebrow.
Lita seemed to freeze for a second. “Um, well, it’s not like he went on and on about you or anything. I just—I’ve been part of the Historical Interest Society for a few years, so we’ve talked about a lot of stuff.”
She turned to examine the structural integrity
of the pile they’d just re-formed. “Looks good to me. You?”
“I guess,” Sage replied noncommittally. She looked past the heaps toward the front of the room, her gaze landing on the clock. “Oh. We should probably be getting back before M—before it’s too late.”
Lita followed her gaze. “Eprah’s name. You’re right. Mr. Strick would be a real beast if he found us down here. Too bad. It’s where all the most interesting things are.”
Sage breathed a sigh of relief that Lita understood.
“This spot’ll be our secret. Yeah?” The older girl started heading toward the door.
“Sounds good,” Sage agreed, following closely behind her.
Against her better judgment, she found herself wanting to trust Lita and hoping that she was right—that Mr. Walsh would return and that Mr. Strick would no longer be their instructor.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come back to ease her guilty conscience or if it was because she was scared of what Mr. Strick might do if he found out what she was really up to in the Archives.
4. BEDTIME INTERRUPTION
The figures on the screen blurred. Sage stared blankly at her databook. Her mind was wandering from her assignments again as she mentally revisited the stacks in the cataloguing room.
The past month had been a largely unsuccessful endeavor, but it helped that Lita was searching through the relics as well. She just hoped neither one of them had missed anything—especially since she couldn’t tell Lita the time period she was really interested in.
She looked up when she overheard her classmate’s very vocal frustration.
“But we have to do this? Seriously?” Pippa whined. “Numbers aren’t supposed to do that.”
Sage shifted her attention to the conversation. Maybe someone else understood—she was also having trouble with the latest math concepts and could use some assistance to have a shot at passing her exams this year.
Marnie rolled her eyes. “Nic, I think Pippa needs some help.”
“Me too,” Sage blurted out, scooting closer to the group.
“Mr. Tousselle could’ve explained it better,” Nic said reassuringly, stretching out his hand for Pippa’s databook.
Pippa shoved it at him in frustration. “Here.”
“Do you remember the example from earlier?” He tapped the screen a few times. “You have to move this over here to the other side before you start.” Sage and Pippa leaned in as he pointed at an equation on the screen.
“But why?” Pippa’s nostrils flared in frustration.
Nic opened his mouth to begin explaining but was immediately interrupted.
“Good evening, students. Ladies.” All the eyes in the room turned to Madame Humphrey as she poked her head in the door of the common lounge, interrupting the lesson. A bead of sweat had formed on her forehead, and her face was flushed. She seemed quite unlike her usual put-together self.
Sage jabbed Penelope in the ribs. “What’s wrong with her?”
Penelope shot her an angry look and rubbed her side. She shrugged. “How’m I supposed to know?” she whispered.
“Uh, urm, uh… I just wanted to let you know—well, to let the ladies know, that is—that bedtime tonight is going to be a bit… postponed.” Madame Humphrey’s eyes darted around the room nervously. “Just stay put for now, and—and I’ll come get you in a bit.”
Madame Humphrey turned quickly and hurried down the hall.
“What do you suppose that’s all about?” Marnie wrinkled her nose as the caretaker left. “She’s always so picky about us getting to bed on time. Weird.”
Penelope and Sage exchanged a confused glance and dashed to the doorway. Several of the other students piled up behind them, careful not to tumble into the hall.
They peeked out of the room, straining to eavesdrop on Madame Humphrey. She made the same announcement in the Level Ten Common Lounge and proceeded to trot awkwardly down the hallway once more to the next room.
The girls couldn’t make out what she was saying anymore.
“C’mon.” Penelope motioned for Sage to follow and then realized most of the other girls were trailing along behind her too. She sighed in exasperation. She certainly couldn’t tell all of them to turn back around. On the plus side, at least they were unlikely to get in trouble with such a big group.
They followed Madame Humphrey at a distance, hoping she wouldn’t turn around and catch them disobeying her directions. Fortunately, their guardian was far too frazzled to notice the gaggle of girls traipsing down the hallway after her.
When Madame Humphrey turned the corner and hastily made her way into the girls’ dormitory, Penelope stopped abruptly, causing a miniature pileup behind her.
“Should we go in after her? Or wait for her to come back out?” Sage whispered.
“Hang on,” Penelope said, staring hard at the door as she debated the options.
Sage craned her neck, listening intently. She could hear a muffled voice beyond the door, presumably Madame Humphrey, but she couldn’t make out any of the words.
Footsteps began echoing from the other end of the hallway. The girls drew back a bit more, hiding as best they could around the corner while still trying to hear what all the commotion was about.
The footsteps belonged to Headmaster Alexander and Mr. Strick. The two men scrambled around the corner and unceremoniously burst through the dormitory door. As the door swung open and closed, the troupe in the hall could hear the loud chatter and gasps of the Level Five and Six girls.
Penelope raised an eyebrow and looked at Sage. “Men are never allowed in our room,” she said with wide eyes.
“Aw, heck. The little kids are in there—it can’t be anything too bad. I’m not waiting anymore.” Marnie pushed her way past them and barreled through the door. Suddenly emboldened by her actions, the others followed suit, tumbling into the room.
“Girls!” Madame Humphrey exclaimed as soon as she noticed the uninvited students. “I told you to wait in your Common Lounge! You’re not supposed to be in here!” She flailed her arms in an unsuccessful attempt to herd them back toward the door and out of the room, but it was too late.
Sage’s mouth dropped open. The two men were already at the opposite end of the room, standing in front of something that clearly bothered them a great deal. Mr. Strick crossed back and forth, pacing in anger, while the headmaster held his face in his hands, visibly shaking. On the bathroom wall was something that was quickly becoming a familiar sight.
There, scrawled in thick red lipstick letters, was a cryptic message.
Sacrisvita, Eprah. What you think you know, you don’t.
5. THE VAGABOND
“How do you think it got there?” Sage chased down the last pea on her plate, spearing it with her fork.
More than a week had passed since the girls’ dormitory had been vandalized, and despite the administration’s efforts to keep it under wraps, it was all anyone seemed to be able to talk about. It was one thing when Lawless graffiti showed up in public places. It was quite another when it showed up in the female students’ private sleeping quarters.
“Had to be one of the students,” Marnie said nonchalantly. Her lip curled in disgust as she stared at the unappetizing slop on her spoon.
“One of the girls,” Pippa added. “Someone definitely would have noticed a boy sneaking into the girls’ room.”
“And no one would have questioned a girl being in the room,” Penelope mused. “But it had to have happened just before the Level Fives made it in for bed.”
“Unless it was one of the Level Fives,” Aura said with an airy, mysterious tone.
“Please,” Marnie retorted. “They can barely even spell.”
“Why not one of the instructors?” Sage asked cautiously. Normally, she had to feign disinterest in everything related to the Lawless faction, but recent events made the topic fair game temporarily.
“Most of them are gone in the evening. Or at least in their quarters if they live at the
Institution,” Penelope explained. “Someone definitely would’ve noticed.”
“That’s another thing I don’t get though. Why bring a history instructor to check it out?” Sage frowned.
“Dunno.” Penelope shrugged. “Because he’s scary?”
“True enough. But it doesn’t really make sense.” Sage shook her head.
“Mmm, I heard a…” Pippa swallowed a mouthful of dinner, “…a rumor about him though.”
“What?” Penelope raised her eyebrow, leaning closer.
“I heard he’s not really a history instructor.” Pippa’s eyes were wide as she nodded knowingly.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Marnie rolled her eyes.
“It means he’s a spy. Duh.” Pippa leaned back and crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh.
“A spy? Seriously, Pippa?” Penelope shook her head incredulously.
Sage felt her heart begin thumping harder in her chest. Could he actually be a spy? Her mind began to race. She never should have joined the Historical Interest Society again. He was going to find out what she was really researching, and she’d be shunned for sure. She wasn’t sure she could handle that level of punishment.
Pippa shrugged. “Just saying what I heard. Some Level Sixteens were talking about it in my Interest. I heard ‘em.”
“That’s not what they were saying,” Marnie smacked her forehead. “They were just saying it was weird that he took over for Mr. Walsh since he doesn’t seem to like history. Or students.” She looked over her glasses in annoyance. “Remember? I was there. I sit right next to you.”
“Clearly, you didn’t hear the whole conversation.” Pippa raised her chin stubbornly. “They also said he used to work at the Dignitary of the Peace. And no one gets promoted from the Peace to an instructor at the Institution.”
Marnie furrowed her brow. “You’re right. That’s not a promotion. Which probably means those Level Sixteens didn’t know what they were talking about. Why would Eprah put a spy in the Institution? That’s just dumb.”
Penelope bit her lip and shot Sage a look. Sage looked away, locking her eyes on her plate.