I'm first in line, which is… awesome. Because who doesn't want to be the first to fall flat on their face?
But, I give it my all.
I run as hard as I can.
I jump as high as I can.
And I fail completely. Though I don't fall flat on my face, so that's a plus. "That thing must be twelve feet high," I say, in what is definitely not a whiny voice I would have scolded the kids for.
Landon jumps about four feet, then groans. "How is this even possible?"
One after another, we each fail.
Raven is last, and we watch, expecting her to be as unimpressive as the rest of us.
She doesn't even run. She just walks up to the bar. And honestly, I don't blame her. After seeing everyone else try and fail, why bother doing something you know isn't possible?
But…
She jumps in one fluid, effortless movement that defies gravity. Literally. Because she keeps gliding. Fifteen feet into the air, over the beam, and then lands softly on the other side.
There is a stunned silence and then I clap and whoop, hollering and cheering for her.
But I realize no one else claps. Or cheers. Or even smiles. Most of them glare at her, as if she's done something wrong.
Bix is the only one not sending her dagger eyes. He just looks perplexed and disappointed in himself.
Landon sneers. "Good at everything without even trying. Some of us actually have to work for our abilities. She doesn't even share how she does it. Screw her."
My instincts kick in and I ram into him then, pinning him down and holding my elbow against his throat. "Is that how you talk to a kid? Huh? Does that make you feel better about yourself? Is your ego really so fragile and delicate?" I raise a fist and aim it at his precious face.
Someone grabs my robes and pulls, and I fly across the arena and land hard in the dirt, scraping my arms and legs and jolting my insides.
Master Vane stands over me. He was the one who threw me like I was a rag doll. He looks between me and Landon, a scowl on his face. "Both of you, thirty laps. Now," he barks.
I do as he says, not looking at Landon even once as I run. I can hear Landon behind me. He makes good time, but I've trained in firefighter gear that weighs a ton. This is nothing.
I can hear Vane awarding points as I make the laps. Raven gets one for jumping, Zev for sparring.
I finish before Landon and head to the waterfalls to rinse off in private. As I stand underneath the pouring waters, I let my frustration out in tears that disappear into the lake. I'm sick of living with these selfish people who only look out for themselves. I'm sick of the constant training when what I really want to do is find Pike.
I continue my venting until all the bitterness and anger I've been carrying pours out of me.
It is in this emptiness that I find stillness. That I find some reflection of peace.
My temper has cooled and I've locked down my emotions by the time I return to the barracks.
The general mood when I arrive is cheerfulness. Even Landon and Mabel seem happier than normal.
"Where's Raven?" I ask, realizing she's the only one missing.
"She has gone to bathroom," Enzo says, using the same word I would use.
She comes back in as we're talking, and goes to lay in her bed without looking at any of us. As soon as she lays down, I hear something pop, and red stickiness explodes all over everything.
Raven sits up, her body covered in red goo. She looks at her hands, her eyes wide with horror.
Landon and Mabel burst out laughing.
I have a fair amount of the red crap all over me too, and it takes a moment for my brain to process what it is. "Is this… blood?" I ask, sniffing at my hands.
No one answers.
Raven doesn't say anything, just jumps from the bed and runs out the room.
The laughter grows louder. Bix is the only one not joining in.
I turn and stand in the center of the room, my hands balled into fists as I try to control my temper. It takes an act of will to keep me from beating the bloody hell out of them. Instead, I stare down each of them. "How dare you!" I say, holding their gaze, forcing them to hear me. To see me. To see what they've done. I do not yell. Quite the opposite. My voice is dangerously quiet. "How dare you do that to her."
Landon doesn't back down. "She needed to be taught a lesson," he says. "Taught some humility."
"Humility? You think she doesn't have humility just because she's better than you? You're the one who likes to talk about how good you are. How good your life used to be. We're just all nuisances to you, aren't we? You have better things do to than be here, don't you? You're a fool. You're the one who needs to learn humility. And kindness."
Landon walks closer to me, getting in my face. "You had best shut your mouth," he says with a sneer, his hands balling into fists.
"The girl got what she deserved," Mabel says, tossing her long red hair to the side.
I glance at both of them, wondering how to handle this. If it comes to a fight, Mabel is better than Landon.
Mabel sees my hesitation and pounces on it, standing side by side with Landon. "But I'm starting to think maybe you need a lesson too. How about it?"
Her and Landon advance, then freeze.
Bix walks up beside me. He points at the two of them and cracks his knuckles.
Landon rolls his eyes. "Fine. Guess your lesson will just have to wait."
He and Mabel turn, but Bix walks up behind them, grabs them both by the collars, and lifts them up until they are dangling from his arms like angry little dolls. They try to fight him, but his arms are so long they can't even reach him.
"I with Sky. You leave others alone, understand?" he says.
They fight a bit more, and Mabel bites Bix's arm, but he doesn't flinch.
Finally they give up.
"Yes, we understand."
He drops them and returns to his bed. "Good."
I meet Bix's eyes and nod my thanks, then I address the whole room. "Has it not occurred to any of you to wonder how Raven got this good at everything at such a young age?"
I can see by their confused expressions it has not. Idiots.
"She's just a kid. And yet she can beat all of us at just about anything." I walk closer to Landon and Mabel. "What kind of life do you think she would have had to make her into such a weapon?" I stand there silently, forcing each of them to consider my question. To really think about what that poor girl has endured.
When Landon and Mabel drop their heads in something I hope is shame, I turn and grab a blanket and change of clothes and then leave them in silence to think about what they've done.
It occurs to me then that my role might not be super solider. My role here might just be mom. I'm not the oldest, or the best. But I know how to make a family. Maybe that's what my squad needs from me more than anything.
But right now, Raven needs me the most.
I check for her first in the baths, but they are empty. So I think of where she would go to be alone, and I remember the passage under the stone grave.
I find her in the round chamber, clean, wet, and wrapped in a towel. She sits on the floor in a corner, her knees pulled to her chest, her face pressed into arms as sobs shake her body.
Saying nothing, I sit beside her. We stay like that for some time, not saying anything. I just want her to know she has my support. Nothing more. Her sobs echo in the chamber, filling our space with her grief, until, eventually, they slowly subside and she finally looks up and stares at the ceiling. "Why do they hate me?"
"Because they hate themselves," I say. "They hate their own weakness. And you remind them of just how much they have left to learn."
She turns to face me, then flinches, pulling her arms to her chest.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She says nothing, but moves her arms away, revealing a giant purple bruise under her shoulder.
"Did this happen during sparring?" I ask.
She nods.
"How did you continue training after that?" I ask, remembering how she kept beating Mabel even after taking hit after hit. How she gracefully jumped into the sky, earning another talisman. How she never showed any pain or discomfort.
"I'm used to it," she says.
Her words are so straightforward. As if it should be obvious. Like this is all she's ever known, so what else would she do. It's her acceptance of this pain that breaks my heart the most. She knows nothing else, and so this has become her normal.
"We should get you to the Infirmary," I say. "They need to check for broken ribs."
She doesn't respond, so I smile at her. "Come on. I can go with you."
After a moment, she nods. I offer her the blanket, wrapping it around her as I help her stand, and that's when I see the scars lining her back. Layer of them, each older than the next. What did they do to her, I wonder.
As we slowly make our way out of the tunnels, I try to lighten the mood a little. "I always see you walking in your measured way. I can't believe how fast you were during the sparring."
The side of her lips curls. "Maybe it's all the energy I conserve."
I'm not sure, but I think Raven may have just made a joke. I take the risk and chuckle, and then slowly, hesitantly, she starts to laugh as well. Like a door opening after a long winter, and we laugh some more, forgetting even why, letting the giddiness steal us away from a moment.
Then something crashes into stone, the sound reverberating through the many halls.
And we both freeze as we realize…
We are not alone.
Twenty-Three
Orcael
We jump up, then rush to the side, hiding behind one of the rocks near the caved-in passages. “The lantern,” whispers Raven.
I nod and snuff out the flame, putting the lantern down by my side. We stay low as light spreads over the ceiling, and footsteps echo in the distance, growing louder, closer.
“What about this passage?” asks a low, familiar voice. It’s Kaden. I know for certain.
“The Masters know of this one,” replies a second voice. Feminine. Phoenix.
I consider leaving my hiding spot and revealing myself to Kaden. But we’re not supposed to be here, and though I trust Kaden completely, I do not yet know what to think of Phoenix, so I stay hidden.
“Just because the Masters know of the catacombs, doesn’t mean they monitor them,” says Kaden. “We could use the passage if we needed to get in quick.”
“I hope… I hope it doesn’t come to that,” says Phoenix, her voice sad.
“I know. Me too,” Kaden’s reply drifts off.
The footsteps fade. The light wains. They must be heading down another passage.
Phoenix says something in response, but they are too far for me to make out the words. I wonder what they were talking about. What they meant. Once the light on the ceiling is gone, and the silence has returned, I poke my head up, scanning the chamber. I see nothing, so I gesture to Raven. “They’re gone. Come.”
I hold out my hand to her.
She takes it and stands. I'm surprised she embraced my help, but glad she did. “We should head back,” I whisper.
She nods, and we walk through darkness, feeling our way, since I can't relight the lantern.
I think we’ve found our way back to the staircase, but then I realize they are stairs heading down and not up. It’s the wrong way, but as I turn to leave, I hear something in the darkness.
A cry.
“Someone’s down there,” I say.
“Or something,” says Raven. “We should leave it.”
I know she’s probably right. But that cry sounded wounded, pleading, and my protective instincts kick in. “Stay here if you’d like,” I say, descending the stairs carefully, trying not to fall and break my neck.
A light flickers in the distance. I jump back, worried someone is passing through the tunnels again, but then I realize the light isn’t moving. It must be coming from a stationary source.
I creep forward, easier, now that I can see my steps, and arrive in a small passageway lit by a torch on the wall. Something stirs in the corner, in the shadows. I hear the cry again.
I move forward, trying to make out the shape. A large black cat lies in the corner of the room, splayed out on its side, eyes open, still.
The cat is dead.
Something wiggles around its belly. I reach into the darkness and feel a little bit of fur. I take it in my hands, holding it up. A tiny kitten, fur gray and wild, stares up at me. It makes a sound, the cry I heard before. The poor thing was trying to nurse from its dead mother.
“You should leave it,” says Raven, who stands behind me, though I didn’t hear her approach. “It’s the runt. It stayed because it was too weak to leave.”
I hold the kitten up, examining its thin body, its giant blue eyes. They remind me of another pair of eyes. Another time. “I won’t abandon those who can’t defend themselves,” I say, clutching the kitten against my chest and standing as I turn. “Just because something is weak, doesn’t mean it’s worthless.”
Raven shrugs. “Bring it if you want.”
I hold the kitten up for her to see, and say with utter sincerity, “This one will be a part of the squad.”
It takes a while to find our way back up the stairs and toward the hidden door. When we reach the Ashling living quarters, we freeze. Master Vane stands in the doorway, arms crossed. He looks us up and down disapprovingly, then scoffs. “I thought it’d be the other two.”
I expect to be made Charred. Instead, Master Vane gives us chores. “A month in the kitchens for you,” he says to Raven, then points at me. “A month in the library for you.”
I raise an eyebrow, skeptically. “Is the punishment… reading?”
Raven giggles, then clasps a hand over her mouth.
Master Vane’s eyes go wide, and I swear smoke comes out from his nostrils. “Two months for that comment. And yes… the punishment is reading. Reading every title and author and number you come across as you handle the reorganizing of the library. The cataloging system has been out of date for years, and Master Orcael has been asking for an assistant just as long. I think you will do perfectly. When you’re not reorganizing the stacks, I expect you to be cleaning the floors, dusting the shelves, and doing anything else Master Orcael may require? Do you understand, Ashling?”
“Yes, Master,” I say, standing straight.
“What… is... that?” he asks, pointing at my arms.
I smile sheepishly. “It’s… um… a kitten, Master.”
“A kitten?” he chews on the word, as if its new to him. “A kitten? Did you venture out into the night to get a pet, Ashling?”
“No, Master. It was just there, and it needed help, and—”
“I don’t want to know,” he says, shaking his head. “The more details I know of what you did down there, the more likely I’ll have to make you Charred. Let’s just say you got lost, and I found you in the hallway. You were never in the catacombs. You will never be in the catacombs again. Understood, Ashlings?”
“Yes, Master,” we both say in unison.
I raise the kitten in my hands. “So does that mean we can—”
“As long as I don’t see the beast, I don’t care. Keep it away from Wolf. And keep it away from me.” He turns around then, disappearing down the hallway.
Raven and I exchange a glance and a shrug.
We bring the kitten up to our quarters. Though it is the middle of the night, no one is asleep. It seems they have been thinking.
Bix raises a large finger, pointing at the furry bundle in my arms. “It cannot be. Is that a…”
“It is.”
“Can I hold it?”
“You can.”
The big man’s eyes turn glassy as he takes the little kitten into his arms. It grabs onto his finger, nibbling on the nail. Bix giggles. “Oh, he is a fierce one. A mighty hunter he will make one day. Does he have a name yet?”
/> I notice the others have huddled around, even Mabel and Landon, entranced by the little kitten.
I look around to each of them. “I don’t know yet. Anyone have a suggestion?”
Raven is the first to speak. She walks forward, past me, taking one of the kitten’s paws into her own hand. Her face is softer than before. Her voice is shaky, lacking the confidence she usually possesses. “What about Ashpaw?” she asks. “Because he’s one of us.”
Everyone nods in agreement, even Mabel and Landon.
“That is a fine name,” thunders Bix, lifting up the kitten. “Ashpaw. You are one of us now.”
We spend the rest of the night taking turns cuddling the little gray feline, and when everyone is asleep, and I too am about to fall into slumber, I notice Raven sitting in the corner, whispering secret words to the kitten in her arms.
The next day we train in sparring again. Then attempt to jump the H. All of us do better. All of us still fail. Even Raven.
When she walks up to the pole, she makes a small leap, barely reaching the top, then shrugs.
“What is wrong with you, Ashling?” asks Master Vane.
“I don’t know, Master,” she says innocently.
As we head back to our quarters, I nudge her. “Why didn’t you make the jump? You know you could have.”
She just shrugs again.
While the others take the night off, we begin our chores. I find the library from memory, and walk through the giant gilded doors, closing them behind me. Shelves filled to the brim with books rise up to the ceiling, which must be at least four stories tall. Ladders on wheels stand on tracks, for use in reaching the higher manuscripts. Spacious tables fill the center of the room, some empty, some covered in stacks of books. The library is vacant at this late hour. The only light comes from a few glowing orbs placed on the tables. Talismans, I realize, glowing a pale blue. There are no candles here, no torches or fireplaces. No fire.
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