The Archives (Sacrisvita Book 2)

by Dylan Steel

  She looked up in shock. She’d expected him to pick basically everyone else first. Since he’d confiscated the photo, it seemed as if he was avoiding her—or at least, avoiding situations where she could corner him into asking for it back.

  Penelope shot her a sympathetic look. Sage gathered her things and shuffled out the door to the empty room across the hall. She set her databook on an empty desk while Mr. Walsh took a seat across from her.

  “I can begin recording whenever you’re ready, Miss Indarra.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Recording?” Sage hesitated.

  “That’s right. Your presentation will be recorded in the event that other faculty or the headmaster or the Quorum or—” he waved his hand, “—basically anyone with any authority can choose to review it if they wish.”

  She felt her face growing red. She wasn’t confident that her report would be thorough enough to convince others that she’d spent the entire year working on it. In actuality, she’d really only studied the first few years of Eprah after the book went missing, and even then, she’d stopped as soon as she was allowed to poke around the cataloguing room.

  “Don’t worry. They almost never do.” He winked. “Sometimes I think they purposefully avoid watching presentations from the Historical Interest Society.”

  Her breathing began to slow a bit.

  “I suppose the facts of history don’t change enough from year to year to keep their attention,” he added with a grin.

  Sage forced herself to return the smile. These recorded presentations always made her nervous. She hated that people could be watching her without her even knowing, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  “Ready?” Mr. Walsh asked.

  She nodded, clearing her throat. Mr. Walsh pressed the center of his databook and pointed at her, slightly tilting his head.

  “At a time when people were overwhelmed by various social, political, and economic tragedies, the Original Five of Eprah stepped up in proposal of a solution—one which would shape the Eprah we know today…”

  She was repeating the phrases she’d already heard hundreds of times. There wasn’t much new that she could add to what she’d read in the history chapters of her databook, so her presentation was quite similar to the texts she and her peers had already reviewed in class.

  Her official report was brief. She hadn’t spent much time investigating the actual first few years of Eprah—and what she really needed to know in order to put together a halfway decent presentation hadn’t taken much time to learn.

  Of course, she was eager to tell the story about the pig wreaking havoc on the first Founders’ Day celebrations. It was really the only interesting thing that had happened that wasn’t already recorded in the databooks.

  Unfortunately, no one seemed to know who was behind the joke or why they had done it. Nevertheless, it made for a great anecdote in the midst of her report.

  “One of Eprah’s mysteries,” Mr. Walsh chimed in after she finished recounting the incident. He motioned for her to continue.

  The end of her presentation was drawing near. She briefly highlighted the biographies of each of the Original Five as part of her conclusion. As she pulled up each leader’s picture, she made sure to mention what their particular contributions were to the original charter and rule of Eprah.

  Perhaps for the first time, she was giving her official research topic her full attention. She placed her finger on the databook, bringing up the picture of the fifth leader.

  And then she froze.

  The realization hit her without warning. Suddenly, she knew why the photograph from the Archives looked so familiar.

  She tried to hide her excitement. Attempting to keep her tone even, she finished out the end of her presentation as quickly as she could and waited impatiently for Mr. Walsh to turn off the recording.

  It was hard to make out the details of the small, crowded faces from the photo, but she now knew without a doubt why they were special. She didn’t even need to see it again to be sure—she had inadvertently memorized the image long ago after studying it every day, and the truth was now glaringly obvious.

  Sage shut her mouth tightly as she watched Mr. Walsh’s databook shut down.

  “Is there something else you wanted to say, Sage? Would you like me to turn the recorder back on?” Mr. Walsh cocked his head at her, curious about her unusual expression.

  She shook her head. “No. You don’t need to turn the recording back on.” Everything inside her stomach was tumbling.

  “I figured it out. The photo,” she said simply. Her heart was pounding.

  Mr. Walsh nodded slowly, a knowing grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

  “At least, partially,” she continued. “Five of the people in the photo—they’re the Original Five. It’s just—it’s from when they were younger.”

  “I do believe you’ve solved one mystery, Sage.” Mr. Walsh leaned forward earnestly. “But this is the question I’ve been asking myself: Who are the others?”

  22. THE PHOTO

  Sage turned the photo over in her hands, examining it for the thousandth time. To her surprise, Mr. Walsh had given it back to her after her Historical Interest Society oral report was finished. He said he hadn’t had any luck when he tried looking into it, so he didn’t see any harm in her holding on to it.

  She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to figure out anything about it though. Their trips to the Archives were basically over for the year, and she knew she’d be encouraged to be part of a different Interest Society next year.

  “You found it in the cataloguing room?” Penelope’s voice was low. She glanced around the Common Lounge to make sure no one was listening to them.

  Sage nodded.

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I have no idea. But doesn’t it seem strange?”

  Penelope shrugged. She had a concerned look on her face. “You really should be careful. What if someone found out?”

  Sage opened her mouth, but before any sound came out, they heard another voice.

  “Talking about how badly you failed your exams?” Carnabel appeared behind them suddenly.

  Penelope and Sage exchanged a glance.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but we both did just fine, thanks,” Penelope said coolly.

  Sage clenched her jaw, moving her databook on top of the photo.

  “What is this?” Carnabel looked down and noticed her attempt to hide it. She snatched the photo from her hand.

  “None of your business,” Sage snapped, reaching for the photo.

  Carnabel jerked her hand back, tightening her grip. “Obviously, you care about it. Why?”

  “It’s just an old Archives’ relic.” Sage gritted her teeth. “And if you don’t want to get both of us in trouble again, you’ll give it back before you ruin it.”

  Carnabel tilted her head and looked at the photo. “Don’t see how I could ruin a crummy old relic.” She grinned sardonically and looked at Sage. “You’re not supposed to have this outside of the Archives, are you?”

  Sage felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Like I said. It’s none of your business.”

  “Well, I passed all my exams with really high marks. Probably higher than yours.” Carnabel ignored her and stared at the photo. She turned back to Sage. “If you’re not supposed to have this, then I’m not the one who’d get in trouble.”

  “Or,” Sage gritted her teeth, “I am allowed to have it, and you’re the one messing with Archives’ property without permission.”

  A sudden brashness came over her. “On second thought, yeah, you probably should take your time looking at it. Bending it, smudging it, tearing it—doesn’t really matter. I’m sure the headmaster would overlook the damage to an Archives’ relic for a model student like yourself.”

  Carnabel hesitated. “Fine.” She shoved the picture against Sage’s chest. “What do I want with a dumb old paper picture anyhow.” She
stormed off in Nic’s direction. He looked slightly terrified.

  Sage cringed apologetically. She almost didn’t notice Everett had been listening until he leaned over.

  “Um, Sage, why do you have a relic? I didn’t think we were ever supposed to take things out of the Archives.”

  Sage’s confidence faltered for a moment as she scrambled for an explanation. “Um, I got permission.”

  He held his hand out. “Can I see it?”

  She bit her lip. She was trapped. “Uh, sure, I guess. Just be careful.”

  “How does this fit in with the early years?” Everett wrinkled his forehead as he studied the picture. “I’m not seeing it.”

  Sage grabbed the photo back quickly. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing for you we weren’t graded on our oral presentations then, huh?”

  Everett’s face reddened. “I was just curious,” he mumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

  A pit formed in her stomach. Penelope frowned at her.

  She immediately regretted her harsh words, but she knew she couldn’t offer him an explanation without compromising her secret—or Mr. Walsh’s.

  23. PAIRED

  This time was different. Sage felt her skin tingling. The room was buzzing with anticipation. As she slipped into the seat next to Penelope in the Grand Hall, she found herself anxious about what the day might hold.

  Sage had already become numb to the opulence surrounding her. Last year, it was thrilling to walk through the doors into the lavish building. The enormity of the building and its trappings enveloped her in wonder then. But she was a year older now, and she’d fought and bled under this roof. It had lost its charm.

  The headmaster ambled to the center of the stage.

  “Welcome, citizens of Eprah, to today’s celebration of the oldest students in the Institution. Today, they are honored to become full-fledged citizens just like all of you,” he began his speech.

  As he rattled off his introductory remarks, Sage wrinkled her forehead. Every word he spoke was nearly verbatim from the previous year.

  She elbowed Penelope.

  “Does he ever actually change his speech?” she whispered.

  Penelope smirked. “Not that I’ve noticed. Welcome to the joys of graduation.” She rolled her eyes while Headmaster Alexander droned on.

  Last year, Sage hadn’t known anyone in Level Sixteen. But this year—this year, she’d spent nearly every day with a couple of the graduates, and she’d at least gotten to know a few others through her training and the Interest Society. And she might never see any of them again.

  She didn’t want to care. She tried not to. After all, she was still angry at Kai for cutting off their sessions so harshly. But in spite of her bruised ego, she found herself searching for familiar faces when the curtain parted and being unexpectedly drawn into the headmaster’s predictably tedious speech.

  Kai was easy to spot. He was in the front row, sitting tall but not uncomfortably. Sage scanned the rest of the graduates but had trouble finding Rosalind. She inadvertently stopped searching for her when she noticed one of the worst Bokja competitors fidgeting excessively at the end of a row. He was clearly nervous. She almost felt sorry for him, but as she didn’t remember him being particularly nice, she was able to stop herself.

  Sage didn’t even notice when the Quorum of Five paraded in. She’d resumed her search for Rosalind and managed to find her on the far side of the stage, tucked away near the back.

  As it turned out, she needn’t have bothered picking her student instructors out of the crowd. The awards portion of the ceremony had just begun, and Kai and Rosalind both were among the first to receive high honors—in Bokja skill and sportsmanship, respectively.

  Despite her initial efforts to pay close attention, Sage quickly found herself staring nearly catatonically at the seat in front of her. She came back to reality when Penelope poked her in the ribs.

  “Did you hear that one?” She was grinning wildly.

  Sage shook her head.

  “The award they just gave that guy—the high honor of excellence in institutional improvement.” Penelope bobbed her head back and forth, looking down her nose dramatically.

  She furrowed her brow. “Ok? I have no idea what that means.”

  “It’s because he got in trouble. Not big trouble. But it was all. The. Time. And his punishment was picking up trash from the cafeteria basically every week. He basically just got an honor for getting in trouble.”

  Sage giggled. “Seriously?”

  Penelope nodded. “Yup.”

  “How do you know this?”

  She smiled slyly. “We ambassadors know lots of things.”

  Apparently, it was also one of the last awards. The headmaster was already diving into the list of professional placements for the new crop of graduates.

  She started paying closer attention again. It was obvious that some of the Level Sixteen students were already surprised at their assignments. Only a couple graduates seemed happy about being switched from the placements they’d been training for.

  “To the Cabinet of the People, the following students are assigned. Kai Abeldra…” The headmaster listed off a handful of names, but Sage tuned them out. She watched Kai give a curt, solemn nod in reaction to the announcement. The young man sitting next to him smiled, thumping him on the shoulder in congratulations.

  She poked Penelope, jerking her head at the stage. “What do they do there?”

  Penelope scrunched up her face. “Where? At the Cabinet of the People?”

  Sage nodded.

  “Make laws and stuff. That’s where Quorum members always come from.”

  Sage leaned forward a bit, trying to pay attention to the different jobs. Despite her best efforts, her mind was wandering. She was soon arguing with herself about what the most ideal positions might be and how she could get one of them.

  The headmaster finally reached the list of names for factory workers. Somehow in the midst of her internal debate, Sage realized she must have missed hearing Rosalind’s assignment. That was disappointing but not terribly surprising given the enormous number of names and professional placements the headmaster had to rattle off.

  He didn’t skip a beat as he transitioned from job placements to the graduates’ duties of repopulation.

  “This year’s official pairings are as follows. Rett York and Drisha Stem. Qib Tockles and Verna Small. Kai Abeldra and Parker Baars. Travis Flienska and…” the headmaster droned on.

  Sage’s eyes widened in surprise. Kai and Rosalind were supposed to be paired. Everyone knew that. Maybe the headmaster had made a mistake.

  She looked at Kai. If he was upset, his face didn’t betray it. He kept his gaze straight ahead, level and unflinching. Her eyes darted around the rest of the graduating class as she tried to find Rosalind again. As soon as she saw her, she realized it was no mistake.

  Rosalind’s face was pale. She held her head high and never once looked toward Kai. She managed to keep her expression steady for the most part, but Sage saw the vacant look in her eyes.

  Confirmation came as the headmaster moved on. Rosalind’s name hadn’t been mentioned at all since her award. No professional placement. No pairing.

  Once again, the headmaster was praising the greatness of Eprah. He happily pointed out the rare good luck of those few graduates who were fortunate enough to be paired with older, wiser benefactors.

  As he read off the list of benefactor pairings, Sage watched as a few of the students whose names weren’t being called fought back tears. No one had yelled in protest yet, but she was half-expecting it to happen again this year. And everyone smiled when the headmaster called their name.

  He continued down the list.

  “Rosalind Tarn to Benefactor Edward Grayson…”

  Sage’s eyes darted back and forth between Rosalind and Kai. She’d seen that look before. Kai’s jaw was clenched tightly as he sat there, unblinking. The casual observer probably wouldn’t have noticed
anything amiss in his expression, but Sage knew better. He was livid, but he hid it well.

  Rosalind, on the other hand, was paler than Sage had ever seen her. A thin, tight smile was plastered on her face from the moment she heard her name. It looked to Sage like she was trying not to lose her breakfast all over the girl next to her.

  Her heart sank for them. Kai and Rosalind had fully expected to be paired. Instead, they would both be with people they didn’t really know. And Sage still wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to be paired with a benefactor, but she did know she’d never seen Rosalind look frightened before.

  24. CAUGHT

  “What’s wrong?” Sage frowned as she watched Mr. Gramples and Ms. Baubbelle speaking quietly but animatedly in an aisle nearby.

  Penelope looked up. “How’m I supposed to know?” She shrugged.

  “I thought ambassadors knew everything,” Sage teased.

  Penelope stuck out her tongue. “Maybe I do and I just don’t want to tell you.”

  Sage rolled her eyes. She was too busy trying to figure out why the Archives’ curator was so upset to think of a good comeback.

  “I don’t know how! Are you going to call him?” Ms. Baubbelle squeaked after Mr. Gramples as he stormed off toward his office.

  The argument was no longer quiet—or secret. None of the students were studying anymore. Not that much studying had happened once the oral presentations were completed, but level promotions weren’t until the end of the week. By default, everyone was still loosely participating in Interest Societies.

  Sage scanned the room out of a mix of boredom and curiosity. She was puzzled as to what could cause the timid Ms. Baubbelle to raise her voice. Her gaze fell on the edge of the far aisle of shelving.

  Mr. Walsh was standing there, staring at her intently. As soon as he noticed her looking back at him, he motioned for her to come over.

  He wasted no time on pleasantries.

  “Do you have the photo?” he asked, glancing around furtively.