by Dylan Steel
“It’s how I was able to find where you were tonight and why I felt I could talk to you here and not in the classroom or at the Archives.” Mr. Walsh hesitated for a moment as if he were reconsidering what he was about to tell her.
“I’ve been paying attention. You’re wise to be guarded in your speech. They’re always watching. There are cameras, microphones—everywhere. Well, almost everywhere. There are a few exceptions. Like here.” He gestured around the rooftop.
“Which is why I knew I had to come talk to you tonight. I didn’t know if there’d be another opportunity. At least, not to speak privately, and I can’t afford to be too informal with you with Mr. Strick watching.” He hesitated. “He’s watching me closely for any missteps.”
It felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. She was always being watched? That explained a lot. It also partially explained why she felt freer on the rooftop than anywhere else—even though she was still caged behind a gate with a bracelet.
12. SECRETS
Sage’s stomach turned.
Don’t worry too much. They don’t care about small infractions, and there aren’t enough people to watch all the time. It’s only cursory monitoring. They only revisit footage if they think there’s a real issue.
Mr. Walsh’s words haunted her. Eprah. The Institution. The Quorum of Five. The headmaster. Her instructors. People she’d never even met. They could all watch her—listen to her—practically whenever they pleased. The thought made her completely ill.
Worse yet, she couldn’t tell anyone. She’d promised Mr. Walsh she wouldn’t. Somehow, she knew breaking that promise would mean a worse fate than a shunning—for both of them.
Sage had managed to return to the Common Lounge just a few minutes before Madame Humphrey’s nightly escort. Penelope had given her a curious look, but Sage knew that she couldn’t offer any explanation.
That was over a week ago, but she’d been replaying that evening’s conversation over and over again in her mind ever since.
She crawled into the bed beside Penelope’s, tugging the thin sheets up over her shoulders. No matter the time of year, she found the nights in the dormitory chilly. Not that they’d ever give her a warmer blanket. Eprah knew best—and had determined she didn’t need a warmer blanket. She usually made do wearing a jacket and socks to bed.
“Cold?”
“Huh?” Sage snapped out of her thoughts and saw Penelope frowning at her.
“Are. You. Cold?” Penelope wrinkled her nose. “You’re shivering.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Sage ran her hands over her arms, trying to warm herself. “I hadn’t even noticed.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She scooted down under the covers, facing away from Sage.
“Are you ever going to talk about it?”
Sage looked at Penelope in confusion. “About what?”
Penelope rolled over and glared at her friend.
“Whatever has you acting so weird lately. Your head is always somewhere else.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m guessing it has something to do with a conversation you had recently. You know, when we went… somewhere.” Her eyes flitted upward.
Sage followed her eyes, understanding the reference to her secret rooftop birthday celebration. She pursed her lips. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. It wasn’t safe.
“That wasn’t…” Sage trailed off. She was unsure what to say. Anyone could be listening. “Everything’s fine,” she offered weakly.
Penelope clenched her jaw and stared blankly at the mattress above her.
“I don’t believe you. You’re lying again.” She turned to Sage. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“You have to trust me on this one, Pen.”
“I’ve been trying, Sage. I really have.” Penelope spoke deliberately. “We’re friends, right?”
Sage nodded. She could feel everything inside of her twisting in pain. She hated keeping secrets from Penelope.
“Friends tell each other stuff. They don’t lie.” She looked at Sage intensely. “If they do, they’re not friends, are they?”
Penelope may not have meant to, but she could see that her words hurt Sage deeply.
“Not that I want that,” she added hurriedly. “But that’s really up to you,” she added, sadness behind her eyes.
Sage realized she didn’t have a choice. She could only imagine how miserable the rest of her time at the Institution would be if she didn’t have her best friend to talk to anymore. It would be almost as bad as a shunning. Somehow, she had to find a way to tell her everything without getting both of them in trouble.
“Ok,” Sage sighed. “But not tonight.” She searched desperately for a way to appease Penelope without tipping off anyone who might be listening. The only place she knew for sure didn’t have cameras was the roof.
“I’m surprised you don’t wear warmer clothing at night,” she said slowly. “You know, what with it being so cold outside and all.”
Penelope shot her a confused look. “Why are you changing the subject? This has nothing to do with the weather.”
Sage gritted her teeth. “I know,” she said testily. “But I heard tomorrow night was going to be really cold, and I thought you should know. So, you know, you can wear a jacket. So you won’t be cold.”
“But we’ll be inside tomorrow night.” Penelope furrowed her brow.
Sage rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to be,” she said as she looked up toward the ceiling, nodding slightly.
“Oh!” Penelope’s eyes widened. “You mean—”
A stern look from Sage cut her off. “I mean it’s cold this time of year. When you’re outside.”
Penelope nodded, finally understanding. Sage breathed a sigh of relief. She may have said too much, but she’d gotten through to her.
***
Sage dragged the toe of her shoe across the gravel on the rooftop. “I hated keeping it from you, but I was worried what might happen to both of us if anyone found out.”
Penelope just stared at her. She hadn’t said a word the whole time Sage was talking. She hadn’t interrupted when Sage told her that Mr. Walsh’s disappearance was her fault, when she told her that she’d been warned by Mr. Gramples and Mr. Gaztok not to say a word, or when she’d watched Mr. Walsh being dragged away in secret. She sat unblinking while Sage recounted the conversation she’d had with Mr. Walsh just the other night—the one where she’d learned that the rooftop was one of the only places they weren’t being watched.
Penelope finally broke the silence. “I still don’t understand why you’ve been so interested in all this. I mean, you knew what could happen—and then the awful things that did happen…”
Sage’s face fell. “I’m not sure I can explain it exactly.” She paused, eyes searching the ground as if it held the reason for her obsession.
“Pen, this isn’t my home.” She held up a hand to stop her friend’s objection. “It’s not. I know it’s always been yours, and I don’t blame you for not feeling the same way. But I know there’s something better out there. My parents were good people. I know it. And I can’t believe that they would have done things bad enough that they should have been killed. But no one here thinks that’s even possible because of the way Eprah’s supposed to work.”
She paused and looked directly into Penelope’s eyes.
“I think Eprah’s broken. And I think there are some people who know it, but they’re too scared to say anything because it would cost them everything. You heard Mr. Gaztok last Founders’ Day. Eprah, the Quorum—they don’t want anyone to disagree with how things have always been. And I think they’ll do whatever it takes to keep people quiet.”
Penelope grew very serious. She turned away from Sage and walked to the edge of the roof, crossing her arms as she looked out over the yard.
“You kept all this a secret,” she said softly. “Was it really because you thought we’d get in trouble? Or did you not want to tell
me because you know I actually like it here?”
Sage hesitated. “I’m not sure. Maybe both.”
Penelope bit her lip. “Sage, if everything you’re saying is true…” she trailed off, shivering.
“It is,” she reassured her.
“But you can’t know that,” Penelope shot back, turning to face her. “You can’t know what happened to your parents because you weren’t there. You can’t know why Mr. Walsh was arrested because he’s the only one who told you anything about it.”
“Exactly,” Sage said, her eyes pleading. “But of everyone, the people telling me the awful things—those are the people I trust. Because… because I just do. And Eprah’s done nothing but try to force us to trust. And they won’t tell us why or who disagrees—they just say they’re wrong. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”
Penelope’s eyes began filling with tears. “But… if you’re right,” she choked. “If you’re right, how do we know who to trust?”
She looked at Sage and wiped away the tears that were showing no signs of stopping. “You lost your family a couple years ago. I feel like I just lost mine tonight.”
Sage’s mouth dropped open. She’d never considered it from Penelope’s perspective. This news had to be tearing her apart. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I never should have—”
Penelope shook her head. “I’m glad you told me. People who love you don’t spy on you. They don’t threaten you. They don’t hurt the people you care about.” She gritted her teeth. “And they don’t tell you they’re doing it all for your own good when it’s for their own good.”
13. THE WINNER
The Bokja Tournament arrived sooner than Sage would’ve liked. She’d been having difficulty mastering a new kick over the past few weeks, and despite the extra training from last year, she wasn’t sure she had much of an edge over her peers this year.
She’d been incredibly distracted by Mr. Walsh’s absence and then his return, not to mention the information he’d shared with her. And with her unproductive research at the Archives and exams just around the corner, she knew her efforts were spread too thin. She should’ve prepared better.
No Level Eight students were participating in the tournament this year. Sage was actually glad. She didn’t relish the idea of hurting someone else’s future Chances unfairly, but she was quite sure she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to win her matches this time.
She actually found herself a bit grateful for having been through the process the year before when she realized how nervous all her classmates looked at the check-in tables. Pippa and Everett were shocked when they realized their bracelets were being temporarily removed. Even Nic seemed a bit unnerved at the events of the morning—but that may just have been because Carnabel cozied up next to him while everyone was waiting for their assignments.
Sage took her place next to Penelope in line. She hoped they wouldn’t have to fight each other, but there was no way of knowing until the morning unfolded. Sage’s first opponent was Laana.
They barely spoke since their classes didn’t often overlap, but Sage liked her well enough. She wasn’t looking forward to their match the same way she’d looked forward to facing off against Carnabel.
She didn’t know much about Laana, but she knew she was fairly quiet. Laana had never struck her as even slightly aggressive. During a free play period once, she’d seen the girl save a caterpillar from being trampled. She’d never seen her sparring style, but she wasn’t expecting much of a fight.
She was wrong.
Laana must have known that she didn’t look like much of a threat. She played up a look of frailty that easily made Sage drop her guard. In fact, Sage had just started to feel guilty at her superior ability when she felt Laana’s fist connect squarely with her jaw.
She stumbled back in surprise and didn’t have time to react before the second blow landed in her stomach. Sage doubled over in pain but had the presence of mind to drop farther down and roll away. She only had a moment to compose herself before she saw Laana’s foot flying toward her.
Sage no longer felt sorry for her opponent. Her resolve strengthened, and she made a decision to end the match as quickly as possible.
Laana was good—better than expected—but she hadn’t received the same level of training as Sage.
Sage’s hand shot out and grabbed Laana’s wrist. She sprinted two steps forward and spun back around, twisting her wrist and forcing her to flip so it wouldn’t break. As Laana fell, Sage was already rushing to the ground as well, positioning her legs around the arm she’d never released. Her feet fell across Laana’s chest as they both landed. Sage squeezed her legs together as hard as she could and jerked her upper body backward while she tightened her grip on Laana’s wrist.
Laana’s free hand slapped the mat almost instantly as she cried out in pain. Sage quickly scrambled off of her. She’d won her first match of the day. And she’d done it in under twenty seconds.
“Good match.” Sage meant it.
She bent over and offered Laana a hand. Laana ignored it and narrowed her eyes at Sage instead. She pushed herself to her feet and rubbed her shoulder.
“Thanks a lot,” she muttered, shaking her arm.
Sage turned in the direction her Coordinator indicated to wait for her next match, rolling her eyes as soon as she was out of Laana’s sight. It wasn’t like they had a choice. She wasn’t about to forfeit so someone else could have more Chances someday.
She shook her head. Laana would have done the same thing if she’d had the chance, Sage reasoned. She couldn’t allow her thoughts to be consumed with guilt over doing what she had to do.
The crowd was already cheering loudly for one of the favorites and booing the first Level Sixteen loser. The citizens of Eprah were as merciless in their applause or disdain as the students were in their fights.
Sage shuddered. She was relieved she wasn’t old enough to be a crowd favorite quite yet.
The next few fights were surprisingly easy. She won each one quickly. Despite her fears of being unprepared for the tournament, she realized her training from the year before had given her an incredible edge in every fight.
As she threw one of her classmates through the air and pinned another to the mat, hope grew in her. She might be able to place high enough to make up for last year.
Penelope trotted over to the mat beside Sage and winked through a swelling eye. She’d managed to win a few of her first matches, but she’d also lost at least once, so it was unlikely that she’d have to face off against Sage.
As they were waiting in line for their next matches, Sage noticed the noise from the crowd was building steadily louder. Her eyes darted across the stage, looking for what had captured everyone’s attention. She figured a skilled pair of fighters was about to start.
When her eyes fell on a mat near the edge of the stage, she sucked in a breath.
Lita stood at opposite ends from her opponent. Kardel Willems. Each of them was an instructor for the younger students, and each of them had a look of pure hatred on their faces.
Kardel was stocky and muscular and, despite his handsome features, had a generally cross look about him. Lita was stationed across from him, mirroring his bounces along the edge of the mat. She didn’t bother playing games or pretending to be a simpering weakling to get him to drop his guard. Not that it would have helped—they’d each seen the other fight. And apparently, as evidenced by the eager cheering, so had the crowd.
Penelope nudged Sage. “They’re s’posed to be paired this year. And they can’t stand each other.”
“No kidding,” she retorted. “You’d never guess by looking at ‘em.”
“Well, duh. She beat him last year.” Penelope’s eyes were wide. “The Level Sixteens said he’s been holding a major grudge ever since. And’s been training extra, just for this match.”
Sage realized she was holding her breath. She found herself nervous for her friend before the match had even started.
When the tone sounded, everyone’s eyes were on Lita and Kardel. The activity on the other mats didn’t matter to anyone in the crowd.
At first, the pair just kept circling each other as they bounced up and down, slowly inching closer. Kardel struck first. His jab was so fast, Sage might have missed seeing it altogether had Lita not responded so quickly. She jerked to the side, passing his striking arm with one hand and hooking it in the crook of her elbow.
It was as if that was exactly what he’d intended for her to do. While Lita was busy trapping his first arm, the second one shot forward powerfully in an uppercut to her stomach. Her face screwed up in pain and surprise, and she released his arm as she gasped for breath.
Sage watched as Kardel swung his upper body toward the ground, landing a kick to Lita’s unguarded head. She crumpled to the ground limply, her hands trapped beneath her stomach.
Kardel stepped beside her and nudged her shoulder roughly with his foot, flipping her onto her back. Her eyes were open, but her breathing was shallow, and she wasn’t moving. He sneered and straddled her, lowering his weight on top of her.
Anger burned in Sage as she watched the boy bend over and whisper something in her ear just before throwing his head back and laughing. He was taunting her friend.
She saw a change come over Lita. The vacant look in her eyes left, replaced by a strange combination of something sinister and sweet. A smile spread across her face as she looked up at her attacker.
Lita’s next move was so quick that Sage couldn’t see exactly how she’d managed it—Lita had somehow switched places with Kardel, pinning him belly-down beneath her. The crowd’s delight at the sudden turn was deafening.
The stunned look on Kardel’s face was all the encouragement Lita needed to finish the fight. She leaned the weight of her legs on his arms and hooked her elbow around his neck, pulling back.
Kardel’s eyes bulged. Every limb in his body jerked and flailed, desperately searching for a way out of Lita’s hold.