by Dylan Steel
Headmaster Alexander gestured to his new companion on stage. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Gaztok to the stage. He has a few special words to share with all of you on this special day.”
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Mr. Gaztok nodded stiffly before turning to face the crowd.
“People of Eprah,” he began. “It is my unfortunate civic duty to stand before you all today to bring something tragic to your attention. While I embrace my civic duty with open arms, there are those among us who do not.” He paused quite deliberately, allowing his words to sink in.
“For the sake of Eprah—for the sake of ourselves and of our children and for the sake of those who have served loyally for years—we cannot abide by such dissension. Those who oppose our fundamental values must be unmasked. They would see the great nation of Eprah fall, and this—this is a tragedy that cannot stand.
“We know there has always been lawlessness among us. This is not new. However, Eprah’s leadership has recently become aware of a disturbing trend—one that must be quashed if we are to remain a strong, resilient nation. A nation that rewards those who should be rewarded and punishes those who should be punished. A nation that has withstood the test of time and been a catalyst for the improvement of every human being under our collective rule.”
He shifted his weight and panned the audience with his gaze.
“We cannot sympathize with the cause of the Lawless. By turning a blind eye to seemingly innocuous behavior and ideas—which are in no way innocent or benign—we in fact empower these Lawless to grow in number, which only weakens ourselves.
“And this—this is why I urge you today to continue the good work you do. To continue reporting those whose speech indicates that they are not, in fact, loyal to our great Eprah. Our officials are always available to record these reports, and you can be well assured that you have done a commendable job as a citizen of Eprah.
“In fact, in an effort to ensure that we are maintaining the strongest Eprah possible, legislation has been passed to ensure your participation in this matter does not go unnoticed at your yearly evaluation of Chances. Indeed, the Quorum of Five has decided to place a tangible value upon your cooperation as a demonstration of our government’s gratitude.”
The crowd was buzzing. Sage looked at the faces around her. Interestingly enough, she couldn’t find a single person who wasn’t nodding in agreement. But a few faces were paler than those around them.
Sage felt her skin crawling, a lump rising in her throat. He’d just put a price on the head of every Lawless rebel and sympathizer.
Mr. Gaztok cleared his throat. “Thank you, loyal citizens. Your leadership is indebted to you for your service, and—”
Another voice, deep and strong, suddenly rang out across the expanse of the building.
“We will not be silenced!”
Murmuring filled the room. Sage, along with the entire crowd, craned her neck around, looking for the man who interrupted Mr. Gaztok’s discourse. Everyone felt the need to speculate on who might have dared be so bold—or, more likely, foolish—as to speak out against Eprah during such an important speech. And on Founders’ Day, of all times.
The crowd let out a collective gasp as the lights abruptly flickered and disappeared. Sage blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. She twisted back and forth in her seat as she looked for a source of light.
When she turned around in her chair, she saw something that the Institution wouldn’t be able to deny or cover up. In the blackness, spanning what was likely the balcony, was one word. It was written in fiery, glowing letters.
Sacrisvita.
16. THE CATALOGUING ROOM
Sage tipped another book out from the shelf and flipped through its pages. She sighed. Setting it back in place, she stepped back and glanced along the row, frowning.
Mr. Walsh poked his head around the corner.
“Not finding anything?” he asked.
“No, sir.” She shook her head.
He stroked his chin and crooked his finger at her. “Maybe I can help.”
Wrinkling her forehead, she ambled over. She ignored Everett’s obvious curiosity and forced her eyes forward.
“You’ve been rather focused on this section of the Archives for awhile now, haven’t you, Sage?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I think you might find some of the artifacts rather interesting, actually. I’d hate for you to miss out on the rich variety of resources available here.”
Motioning for her to follow, Mr. Walsh headed toward the doorway. He led her through a series of rooms and hallways, down several flights of stairs—it was a labyrinth she was sure to get lost in if she tried navigating it on her own. He pushed open the door to an unexpectedly large room filled haphazardly with ancient treasures.
“This is the cataloguing backlog,” he said somewhat sadly. “There are simply too many pieces for the small staff at the Archives to keep up with. They have a hard enough time managing what’s already sorted.” He sighed. “So here they sit, waiting for their homes.”
Sage looked around the room in wonder. It was absolutely packed with objects utterly unfamiliar to her. Some were caked in dirt, and others appeared to be in pristine condition—apart from being stacked somewhat carelessly in unstable heaps.
“People still find things all the time, you know. Artifacts from old family estates, happenstance treasures while gardening, relics under the rubble outside the city… And those things get brought here. Shoved in an overcrowded room, waiting for a new placement worthy of their historical value,” he said wistfully.
Mr. Walsh straightened. “Right. Well, I thought you might be able to find something in here to supplement your research. There’s no telling what you might stumble across, and I’m sure most of it will be of no use to you, but at least this should prove a bit more interesting than reexamining the same books repeatedly.”
She stared at the ground sheepishly. So he’d noticed that she’d hit a dead end.
“I was making some progress, Mr. Walsh, but…” she trailed off, not sure if she should confess that she no longer knew the whereabouts of the book.
“Yes?” He waited patiently.
“Someone took the book.” She grimaced, waiting for the inevitable backlash.
His face lightened a shade. “I see.” He licked his lips nervously. “Who, might I ask?”
Sage shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was just gone one day when I came back from looking for more books.”
“I see. When was this?”
“A couple months ago.” She hung her head.
“I see,” he repeated again. “I see…” A faraway look came into his eyes, and then he shook his head, turning back to Sage. “Well, perhaps it will find its way back to you. Stranger things have happened.”
She furrowed her brows. “I don’t see how. I’m sorry I lost it.”
“Oh, I very much doubt it’s lost,” he mused. “But do let me know if you happen to find it again.”
She nodded doubtfully.
“Well, Sage, I think I should give you some time in here to do some treasure hunting. Also known as historical research.” Mr. Walsh grinned. “Do you think you can find your way back to the main room of books?”
Sage’s eyes widened in panic. She shook her head vehemently.
“Alright,” he chuckled. “I’ll be back to collect you just before I wrap up with the rest of the group. Wouldn’t want to advertise that I’ve turned you loose, unsupervised, in a room with priceless artifacts.”
He put a hand on the door and turned back around. “Oh, and Sage, please be careful.” With those words, he left her alone in the room.
She hesitated for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Just deciding where to start could take up her entire time. The room was massive.
Weaving her way down the makeshift aisles, Sage scanned the tall heaps, looking for whatever seemed the oldest. Before too long, she’d wandered all the way to the back corner of
the room. She knew she’d just have to pick a pile and start digging through it, but she wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of more aimless research.
She let her breath out slowly. Her eyes traced the pile next to her from the floor to three feet above her head. It was only partially distinct from the other heaps beside it, but it would do for a starting point.
As she searched the outer edge of the mound for something easy to pull out, her eyes fell on a small book wedged between a painting and a vase, just out of reach. It wasn’t the book that had disappeared months earlier, but the cover and binding were quite similar—though a bit smaller.
Her curiosity got the better of her. She crawled on top of a couple pieces that looked sturdy enough and stood on her tiptoes. Her fingers stretched out, brushing the edge of the cover.
“Ooof!”
She hopped slightly, closing her hand around the corner of the book and falling against the mountain of relics. Bracing herself somewhat precariously against the rest of the pile, Sage gave a sharp tug and fell backward into the small walkway, clutching the book tightly.
The side of the pile quickly turned into a landslide. Sage flinched and jumped out of the way to avoid being buried under a mess of cookware, books, furniture—and a host of other things that she didn’t have time to inventory before they came crashing to the ground. She grimaced.
Somehow, she didn’t think this was what Mr. Walsh had hoped for when he told her to be careful.
She’d work on cleaning up the mess she’d just made—but first, she turned the book over in her hands, examining her new treasure. She cracked it open, quickly flipping through the pages, looking for words in the same language as the other book.
But it was blank.
Her eyes burned. The huge mess she’d just made was all for nothing. There was no new information in the pages of this book. In fact, it barely even qualified as a book.
Frustrated, she threw it against another pile. She clenched her jaw and watched as it tumbled to the ground, taking a stray chalice with it.
She was about to turn back to begin picking up the wreckage she’d created when something caught her eye. Frowning, she squatted to get a closer look at the book.
A small piece of paper fluttered to the ground as she picked it up. An image greeted her in various shades of gray. She squinted at the tiny photograph of twelve men and women who stared back at her from their frozen postures.
Some of them seemed somber, as if bearing the burdens of the world, but others appeared quite friendly. They sported genuine smiles or had clapped their hands on top of the shoulders of those around them.
Although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, she knew there was something familiar about the picture.
Sage heard footsteps. Mr. Walsh was already returning. While she was unsure of what she was holding, she did know that she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about it. She put the book somewhere she would easily remember, slipped the paper into her waistband, and began cleaning up the mess.
17. DISTRACTED
“Faster. No.” Kai smacked his hands together and then held them up in front of his chest. “Try again.”
Sage clenched her jaw in frustration, jabbing at the pads he was holding. He yanked his hand back without warning as she threw another punch. Her body lurched forward as her fist continued soaring through the air.
“You’re getting slower.”
“I’m tired,” she snapped.
Kai narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t matter.”
She sighed. “Why not? It’s not like this is going to help me anymore. The tournament’s over.”
His cheek twitched. “No, Sage, it isn’t.”
“Yeah, it is.” She raised an eyebrow. “Remember? I beat Carnabel. Twice. And you won the whole thing. You really should remember this,” she said derisively.
“Which is why you should pay more attention to what I’m saying to you.”
She could tell she’d struck a nerve. He was breathing slowly, deeply. Counting to five, probably, like he’d told her to do when someone got under her skin.
“Sage, there’s always another tournament, even if it’s not tomorrow. You’re never done fighting.” He looked intently at her. “The best thing you can do now is to prepare for your next fight. It always comes sooner than you’d like. I guarantee you’ll be glad later that you trained hard now.”
His expression softened, and he puffed up his chest with as much mock-pride as he could muster. “Besides, you’re being individually tutored by the reigning, two-time Bokja champion.”
Sage forced a smile.
Kai sobered again, leaning forward. “You’ve got an incredible advantage over your classmates right now. It’d be incredibly dumb to waste it.”
He frowned. “And it’d be dumb to waste my time,” he said, slugging her in the shoulder and then knocking his pads together again. “Go.”
She dropped back into a fighting stance and started throwing punches again. But she was distracted, and it showed. All she could think about was getting back to the Archives to follow up on the photo she’d found.
It was driving her crazy. But it was just a matter of time, she told herself. She’d figure it out.
“Take a water break, Sage.”
She looked up in surprise. They’d barely started back on the striking drills. It was unlike Kai to opt for a break so quickly. She wasn’t about to argue with him over it though.
Sage scooped up her canteen. She studied Kai’s demeanor out of the corner of her eye as she guzzled her water. He’d been acting strange during their whole training session.
“I can’t help but feel like you’re someplace else today, Sage.”
She wrinkled her nose and dragged the back of her sleeve across her mouth. “Funny. I was thinking the same about you,” she retorted.
He scowled. “I’m always thinking about something else—I’m just a few months from graduation. It’d be foolish of me not to think ahead. Which is what makes me think that you need a serious dose of focus.” He jerked his head. “What’s on your mind?”
She hesitated. “Nothing,” she lied.
Kai looked away and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s good to be careful around people that try too hard to help you, Sage. Most people are only looking out for their own interests.”
He tilted his head at her. “But it’s also important to know who you can trust—or at the very least, to be a good liar.” He paused. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I will say that you need some work on that second option.”
Sage froze. She put the lid on her canteen and swallowed slowly. Relax, she told herself. It’s not like he knows about the picture.
“I thought I’d made it clear that I didn’t want you to waste my time. Apparently, I was mistaken.” He unstrapped the pads from his wrists.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you,” he said sharply, “but I’m not wasting any more of my time with someone who’s unfocused and lying to me.”
Kai threw the pads to the ground and headed in the direction of the boys’ changing room.
She hesitated. He was right—she knew she was being short-sighted, and she knew it was already costing her. But she didn’t want to admit it.
“Kai, wait—”
He stopped and turned back around to face her, waiting expectantly.
“Our session’s not over,” she reminded him. It was a statement of desperation, not remorse, and they both knew it.
His jaw tightened. “It is now.” He turned back around and waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll let Rosalind know that she gets to take over your training.”
“Kai—” Sage called after him, fumbling for words. “Kai—I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”
He stiffened, turning his head only slightly, staring at the ground.
“You won’t get so lucky again, you know.”
“What do you mean?” She blinked, taken aback the sudden topic change.
“At the tournament, with Carnabel. You got lucky twice. You didn’t beat her.” He looked over his shoulder at his pupil.
Sage’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I did too. I—”
“No,” Kai said simply. “You got lucky. And you can’t bet on that holding out forever.”
“I beat her,” she insisted angrily. “Carnabel’s a terrible, worthless person, and I got to do something about it. And it was allowed. Eprah let me. And I beat her.”
Sage crossed her arms, seething.
“You can’t count on your opponent making a mistake. And you can’t count on someone else’s benevolence for calling a match in your favor.”
Her jaw jutted forward in silent protest.
Kai was quiet for a moment. “You need to remember that you never fight someone who doesn’t have value. Everyone has value, Sage. Even Carnabel.” Kai pursed his lips. “Eprah just hasn’t determined what either of yours is yet.”
18. RETURNED
“I heard the Lawless have been planning something big.”
“That could mean anything, Pippa.” Nic crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, clearly unimpressed.
Sage’s head popped up from her databook. Somehow, Mr. Gunnerly’s equations didn’t seem important at the moment.
“Well, what do you think that whole scene on Founders’ Day was about?” Pippa stuck out her lip.
“They’re always planning something. It was just a reaction to that speech Mr. Gaztok made.” Marnie pushed her glasses up higher on her nose as she glanced up from her assignment.
“That’s impossible,” Nic said. “They just knew he was going to make that speech?”
Marnie shrugged. “Maybe they have someone spying on the government.”
“That’s how the speech made it sound,” Pippa agreed. “Why else would they have wanted to tell us all that? I mean, we’re students. It’s not like we know any Lawless.”
“But what does sacrisvita mean?” Sage cringed internally. She hadn’t meant to let the question slip out. Penelope made eye contact with her, silently berating her for asking the question.