by Dylan Steel
“My p—” Sage’s eyes widened when she realized what she’d started to say, but it was too late. “My parents,” she mumbled.
He raised his head as if she’d just waved rotten meat under his nose. “Your parents?” he said quietly. “Are they here?”
“No.” She bit her lip. She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about them.
“No,” he replied firmly. “They’re not here.” An edge of bitterness crept into his voice. “You know who’s here? Me. Rosalind. The Institution. We’re training you to be the best you can be. Are your dead Lawless parents doing that?”
Sage swallowed hard against the sense of rising vomit in her throat. “No,” she whispered.
“No, sir,” he corrected her.
“No, sir.” She looked past the tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m teaching you to survive, Sage. If you just want to make it through this tournament, that’s easy. You can take a fall, tap out—you don’t even have to fight. I don’t really need to teach you anything then.” He paused for a moment. “But if you want to survive—not just this tournament, but beyond this Institution—you need to do exactly what I tell you. Not what you think your parents might want you to do. Are you understanding me?”
She clenched her jaw and nodded slowly.
He was right, of course. But in that moment, she hated him.
10. THE BOOK
“Do you need me to pick out a different book for you?” Penelope asked as she glanced over the table at Sage.
“What?” Sage lifted her chin off her hand. “Oh, no, thanks. This one’s fine.”
“Ok…” Penelope hesitated. “It’s just—you’ve been staring at that page for the last twenty minutes.”
“I have?” Sage frowned. “I guess I’m a little distracted.” She closed the book and pushed it away. “Mostly, I’m mad I still have to wear this thing.” She gestured with her free hand toward the sling on her arm.
“How much longer do you have to?”
“Dunno.” Her forehead wrinkled. “It’d probably have been off a week or so ago if I wasn’t still trying to train.”
Penelope shook her head. “I don’t understand why you are. It’s not like it’s going to get better if you keep messing it up.”
Sage sighed. “If I stop training, Carnabel will beat me for sure. Besides, I’m only using my left hand. Kai told me to do ‘visualization exercises’ with my right.”
Worry was scrawled across Penelope’s face. “What if it doesn’t heal before the tournament?”
Sage had been asking herself the same question for the past month. She’d become almost accustomed to the perpetual knot in her stomach.
“I’ll have to fight anyways, I think. Unless the headmaster decides to pardon the requirement. There’s still a chance he might.”
Even as she said the words, she knew it was hopeless. She knew the headmaster wanted to show off his power and authority. Kai had said he’d ranted about fairness and justice and equal punishment for her fellow troublemaker and how one couldn’t compete without the other. He had at least said he’d consider it as they monitored her shoulder’s progress. The final decision wouldn’t be made until they were much closer to the tournament.
“You know, maybe a different book is a good idea.” Sage forced a smile.
Penelope nodded, clearly still concerned, but she got up and began perusing the bookshelves.
Sage looked back down at the book she’d been reading. Sacrisvita. It’d be much easier to figure out what it all meant if she had some sort of translation guide. Even then, it could take ages, but she hadn’t made much progress at all since she’d started looking into the mysterious phrase.
“How’s your research coming along?”
Sage jumped. She hadn’t noticed Mr. Walsh walk up behind her.
“Honestly?” Her shoulders slumped. “Not so great. Everything’s in an ancient language. I’m having a lot of trouble reading it.”
He nodded slowly. “I could see how that would hinder your studies. Not to mention that arm.” He jerked his head toward her injured shoulder.
Her face reddened. “It’s fine. I can still do research,” she insisted.
“I don’t doubt it.” He placed a hand on her injured shoulder and looked her squarely in the eye. “Have you made much progress on your later period of study? The initial verbal report of your progress is just a few weeks away.”
She nodded. “I know. I’ll be ready to tell you about lots of things—especially the pig and the first Founders’ Day.”
Mr. Walsh grinned. “That is a good story. And I think you might actually find more explanation for that in some of those other documents you’re studying.” He paused. “Not that you have to include that in your report, of course.”
He gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “Keep up the good work, Sage. Let me know if you need anything.”
Sage held her breath as he walked away. She looked over at Penelope, who still appeared to be deliberating about how many books she could reasonably carry back to the table.
A quick glance around the room indicated that everyone was busy with their own studies, and there was no sign of Mr. Gramples or Ms. Baubbelle. She exhaled slowly and fidgeted with the brace on her shoulder. Her fingers brushed the rough edge of a piece of paper that Mr. Walsh had discretely shoved under the strap of her brace moments before.
She slipped the paper into the palm of her hand and then reached for the book that she had been reading earlier. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she looked around to make sure she wasn’t being watched. Holding the book open in front of her, she slipped the paper inside and unfolded it, flattening it against the pages.
This was one of the more detailed ciphers she’d gotten. She swallowed hard. This would take longer than normal to memorize. She was actually surprised that Mr. Walsh would have given her so much at one time, but she was eager to figure out what the text said, and this seemed to be the only way that would happen.
Penelope was heading back to the table. Sage quickly crumpled the piece of paper again and deftly tucked it between her brace and forearm.
“So… I wasn’t sure which ones you’d want.” Penelope piled nearly a dozen books on the table.
Sage’s eyes grew wide. She laughed. “I can see that.”
“Fine. You can put them all back on the shelves then.” Penelope stuck out her tongue.
She sobered quickly. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “We need to make sure they get back to the right spot. Do you remember where you got them from?”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “I know. You worry way too much. They’re all in order from the same shelf. The spot’s obvious. I won’t forget.”
Reassured, Sage slumped back in her seat. She picked up the first book and began thumbing through it. Nothing noteworthy appeared as she flipped the pages. Each successive book in the stack was largely the same. While the language was ancient and unfamiliar, there was no mention of sacrisvita or any of the other terms that she had seen scrawled across the Institution’s walls. As far as she could tell, these books offered no explanations of Eprah’s secrets.
There was something different about that first book. She had stumbled upon it quite by accident. No markings graced the cover. It was an untitled work, written by hand. It was nearly impossible to tell—the handwriting was a beautiful script, meticulously penned, but sometimes the writing slanted and some of the letters weren’t perfectly uniform.
Inexplicably, Sage found herself drawn to it. She barely understood it, but it seemed somehow familiar and comforting, like an old friend.
Sage sighed as she closed the last book that Penelope had brought her. “Thanks,” she said, “but I don’t think any of these will work. I should look myself—it’d probably be faster. Where’d you get them from?”
“Over there.” Penelope pointed a few rows away. “Third shelf. Want me to help? I can put them away.”
Sage shrugged. “You said it was obvious,
right?”
Penelope nodded. “There’s a giant gap where I took them out.”
“Then I’ll let you know if I can’t figure it out.” She smiled.
With a little difficulty, she managed to balance the books against herself. She winced as she steadied them with her injured arm.
As she stepped into the row, she noticed Everett perusing a shelf on the opposite side of the aisle. She hurried toward the empty section and began awkwardly scooting the books from her arm to the shelf.
Despite her best one-handed efforts, a few of the books tumbled off the stack and fell open on the floor. Before she could stop him, Everett stooped to help her pick them up. He hesitated for a moment when he noticed the unusual writing, giving her a quizzical look.
“What era are you doing?”
“None of your business,” Sage snapped. Her stomach twisted in knots. Too many people already knew about this.
Everett placed the books beside the others on the shelf and turned to her, frowning. “You don’t have to bite my head off. I was just asking.”
“Sorry,” she grumbled. She turned back toward her table and stopped. It wouldn’t be good if he kept asking questions. “Eprah’s early years.”
“Oh, ok,” he said, taken aback by her answer. “Me too, actually.”
“Oh.” Her heart started racing. She couldn’t afford for him to ask more questions. “Well, these weren’t helpful at all, just so you know.” She jerked her head toward the books he’d just helped her return.
He raised an eyebrow. “Alright… thanks.”
“Wouldn’t want you to waste your time.” Sage nodded and turned back around. She barely managed to resist the urge to glance back and make sure he hadn’t taken a second look at any of the books she’d put back.
“Did you see any of that?” Sage asked as she slipped back into the seat beside Penelope.
“Any of what?” Penelope asked, looking up from her book.
“Never mind.”
“I thought you were going to look for more books?” Penelope frowned.
Sage smacked her forehead. “I was.” She stood back up quickly. “Be right back.”
Penelope shot her a confused look.
“I got distracted,” she whispered over her shoulder as she started walking back to the shelves.
Everett looked up in surprise. “Back already?”
Sage’s face flushed.
“I forgot something.”
He shrugged.
She turned back to the shelves. She would need to be extremely discrete.
“There are some pretty good books on Eprah’s first few years over there.”
She clenched her jaw in annoyance and turned to see where he was pointing.
“Thanks,” she replied curtly. “I wanted to finish checking this section.”
“Ok,” he said awkwardly, studying the ground. He suddenly brightened. “Oh, have you read about the—”
“—pig? Yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes. Couldn’t he leave her alone?
He wrinkled his nose. “What pig?”
Sage blinked. “The pig. At the first Founders’ Day?”
He shook his head.
“Someone let a pig loose during the ceremony, and it took them almost three hours to catch it. They never did find out who did it.” She cocked her head, genuinely surprised that he hadn’t learned that yet.
A loud laugh escaped his mouth, and he quickly clapped a hand over it. Someone a couple aisles over shushed him just as loudly. A sheepish look fell over his face, and he quite suddenly became deeply engrossed in the book he was holding.
Sage turned back to the shelf. She pulled out an old-looking book and flipped through a few pages. Sighing, she replaced it on the shelf and dragged her fingers along the row of spines.
No luck. She put back another book. And another. Why was the one book so different? She didn’t want to spend too long there and arouse his suspicion. This was getting frustrating. How was she supposed to search for another useful book with Everett just a few steps away?
Irritated, she walked back empty-handed to the table where Penelope was waiting.
“Still no book?”
Sage gritted her teeth. “It’s not like the whole world needs to know what I’m doing. He won’t leave.” She nodded toward where Everett was standing. “I’ll just work on this one for now.” She turned her attention back to the book she’d left on the table.
But it was gone.
11. HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Sage squeezed her eyes closed. She tried unsuccessfully to shut out the noise around her. There was never any privacy anywhere. What she wouldn’t give for one day of not living with thousands of other kids.
“Whatchya studying?” Pippa plopped down on the couch next to Sage.
Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t answer right away. Pippa had pulled out her own databook and already had her neck bent over an assignment. Sage sighed.
“Just working on some memorization,” she replied. She wasn’t lying. The memorization wasn’t for a class, but Pippa didn’t need to know that.
“Ugh.” Pippa groaned. “I hate preliminary exams. I thought we’d only have to worry about them last year.”
Sage gave her a sympathetic look. “At least we have a little bit more time to study.”
“Yeah… At least I do. I feel like you’re always busy training.”
She shrugged. “It’s not awful though. I guess that’s the benefit to preliminary exams—to let you know what you need to work on. Besides, I’ll have more time to study once the tournament’s over.”
“Like Kai and Rosalind will let up. Fat chance.” Penelope snorted as she sank into the chair beside them.
Sage pursed her lips together, saying nothing. She really just wanted to be left alone. Her mind wandered to the fight she’d had with Penelope. She’d sworn she hadn’t seen anyone take the book from their table in the Archives, and Sage believed her—but she thought she really ought to have paid closer attention. Sage was convinced there was something incredibly important in that book, but now she’d never know what it was.
Pippa gave Sage a sideways glance and then looked at Penelope. “Wow. You two seriously need to talk.” She picked up her things and wandered over to the game table on the other side of the room, leaving the two girls in silence.
“I said I was sorry,” Penelope mumbled.
“I know,” Sage said, staring at the floor.
“Are you gonna stay mad at me forever?” Penelope picked at the arm of her chair.
“I’m not mad,” she said weakly.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I mean, yeah, I’m frustrated that the book is gone, but it’s not just that.” Sage sighed and lowered her voice. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I miss my parents. It’s my birthday.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“Very funny,” Penelope said.
Sage shot her a look.
“Oh—you’re serious?” Penelope asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sage furrowed her brow.
“I forget how different your life was.” She shook her head. “Almost everyone’s birthdays are in the spring.”
Sage wrinkled her nose. “How come?”
Penelope shrugged. “It’s just the way it works. Everyone gets pregnant pretty much right after graduation. It’s the law.”
“The pairings,” Sage remembered.
“Yeah. It’s a huge deal if it takes too long. They do extra medical interventions three months after graduation.”
“Extra?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, they start weekly fertility injections in Level Sixteen.” Penelope paused. “You really didn’t know?”
Sage pursed her lips. She felt like she was always catching up on Eprah’s traditions.
“Of course, the rules are a lot more lenient for benefactors...” Penelope trailed off. “Wait, Sage, was one of your parents a benefactor?” She couldn’t contain
her excitement at the thought.
“I don’t think so.” Sage shook her head.
“Oh, well, that would have been pretty cool.” Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. “Benefactors almost always hire private tutors for their kids, so they’re almost never in the Institution.”
Penelope grew quiet, lost in thought.
Sage didn’t mind. She turned her attention back to her databook, flipping through the notes she’d jotted down the last time she was at the Archives.
She needed to appear at least halfway knowledgeable about Eprah’s early years for her preliminary verbal report with Mr. Walsh. He’d warned her that it would be recorded. While it wasn’t a guarantee that the Quorum would review it, she couldn’t take the chance of being unprepared.
“Perfect!” Penelope exclaimed, looking at Sage with a mischievous grin.
Sage jumped. She’d become immersed in quizzing herself on specific dates and had all but forgotten that Penelope was still sitting next to her.
“What on—”
“I have an idea,” Penelope announced. She yanked Sage’s databook out of her hands and set it on the table. “Come with me.”
Before Sage could protest, Penelope had already grabbed her hand and headed toward the door.
“Penelope, where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Her eyes sparkled with a secret she wasn’t ready to share with her captive.
She led Sage down one hallway and then another. They were wandering quite a good distance from the Common Lounge.
“This can’t be allowed,” Sage whispered.
“I think you worry more than anyone else I know,” Penelope retorted. “Relax. We have to celebrate your weird birthday somehow, don’t we? Besides, ambassadors aren’t as likely to get in trouble.”
Sage wasn’t exactly sure that was true, but she fell silent. She could only hope they wouldn’t get caught. They’d wandered far enough that she’d lost track of how to get back. It was too late to turn around and go back on her own.
“Here we are.” Penelope stopped at the end of the hallway.
Sage wrinkled her forehead. They were standing in front of a dead-end, and Penelope was sporting a huge grin.