by Dylan Steel
“Well, have you?”
“Have I what?”
He smirked, pointing at her databook. “Finished the assignment from Mr. Sorns?”
“Oh.” She looked back at the unsolved problem. “No. Not yet. I was just st—working on this one.”
“Wanna work it out together?” he offered.
She chewed the inside of her lip. “I dunno, I kinda wanted to see if—”
“I know you missed it,” he interrupted, “but the first day of class, Mr. Sorns basically said that his mission was to force everyone into humility by the end of the year—even the ‘best and brightest.’ Not sure why,” he mumbled bitterly, “but I’m thinking that means we’ll all need to help each other if we want to get passing grades at the end of this year.”
Sage looked at him uncertainly.
“And from what I hear, you got to be quite the math whiz while—” a look of panic flashed over his face as soon as he realized that he’d brought up her kidnapping, “—since you got back,” he finished quickly.
“You can say it,” she said, a slight bitterness tracing the edge of her words. “It’s not like I’m going to forget it happened.”
“Sorry.” He cast his eyes downward, his cheeks reddened. “I didn’t… I don’t want to make it worse for you.”
An unexpectedly loud laugh escaped. She clapped her hands over her mouth. “Don’t worry. I don’t think you can. I mean, it’s not like you’re one of the ones who took me. Or like you’re the headm—uh… You can’t. You can’t make it worse.” Her eyes grew larger as she silently berated herself for the slip. Just because no one seemed to be spying on her didn’t mean that she was able to talk freely. Someone somewhere had to be watching.
Everett nodded, looking unconvinced. “Well, back to my original point. I don’t know about you, but classes haven’t exactly been getting easier for me. We all may need to help each other on this year’s assignments.”
“Maybe.” She sighed, resigning herself to his words. “Have you figured out this one?” She pointed to the troublesome diagram she’d been working on when he’d originally walked up to her.
He peered over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, that. That one’s tricky because you actually have to use the technique he taught us last week and look ahead to next week’s lesson to solve it.” He rolled his eyes. “You’d think he—”
A thundering stampede of students abruptly barreled through the door of the Common Lounge, shaking the ground, interrupting their conversation. Penelope was near the front, and she immediately zeroed in on Sage and rushed over to her side.
“Everything ok?” Sage’s expression was suddenly serious as she looked back and forth between Penelope and the growing crowd in the lounge.
“No,” she wheezed, desperately trying to catch her breath. She cast furtive glances behind her as she rested her hands on her knees. “You need to… get out of here,” she gulped.
“What do you mean?” Sage wrinkled her brow. “You know I can’t leave—not until Madame Hum—”
“No,” Penelope hissed insistently. “Get out of here. Now.”
“Pen, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t realize what today—or, really, tomorrow—was until the end of our session… not until everyone started talking on the way back here… I got here as soon as I could.”
“What are you talking about?” She glanced over at Everett and saw a look of concern on his face as his eyes shifted between the two girls. An uneasy sense of dread filled her.
“I mean… I forgot tomorrow was your birthday.” Penelope shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I… You already know… not everyone’s exactly… glad you’re back. Or that you didn’t get shunned,” she whispered apologetically. “A lot of kids were betting on what would happen to you—Don’t give me that look—I didn’t!” Irritation flashed over her face before quickly being replaced with worry again.
“Wait, so you’re saying people were betting that I would, what, die?”
She bit her lip, nodding. “Die, be shunned, something. And a lot of people were saying something would happen before you turned fourteen. So they want something to happen by then. By tomorrow. A lot of them want you to be shunned so they can win their bets.”
All the color drained from Sage’s face. “You’re saying they’re going to do something. They’re going to figure out a way to get me shunned.”
Penelope nodded again, sympathy scrawled across her face. “I know it’s terrible, but there are some—”
“Well, look who’s here.”
Sage’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t so much the words as the voice behind them. She didn’t know why she was surprised.
She swallowed and stood up, crossing her arms with all the casualness she could muster as she faced an angry-looking Carnabel. On either side of her were girls Sage didn’t know as well—ones who had clearly chosen sides in the fight that Sage hadn’t realized she was a part of.
“What do you want, Carnabel?” Her eyebrow jerked upward defiantly. Whatever was about to happen, she knew she couldn’t show any weakness.
“What do I want? Funny,” she scoffed, taking a menacing step forward, “I didn’t know my opinion mattered around here.”
“Do you have a point to make here?” Sage rolled her eyes, feigning indifference. “Because if you don’t, I’d like to get back to my work. There’s a lot of it, you know, when you’re making up for a whole missed year.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Oh, but I guess you wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
“You think you’re special just because you got kidnapped by some filthy Lawless?” Carnabel snorted. “You’re not. We’ve been caged up for the last year too—pretty much prisoners too, ya know—and it’s all your fault. They would’ve done us all a huge favor if they’d have made sure you never came back.”
Sage’s jaw dropped open. The venom behind those words was so unexpected, she was left momentarily speechless.
“Watch it, Carnabel.” Penelope jumped to her defense, her voice tinged with anger. “This is pushing it, even for you.”
“Mind your own business, ambassador,” Carnabel spat.
“You’re seriously saying you wish they’d killed me?” Sage found her voice and held up a hand to stop Penelope from running to her aid again. “Really?”
Carnabel shrugged with indifference. “Just saying it would’ve been better for all of us.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” Sage growled through clenched teeth, her veil of calmness rapidly disappearing, “you’re one of the ones who bet I’d die.”
“Eprah’s name, Sage. How selfish do you think I am?” Carnabel’s lips curled upward in a sneer as she shook her head slowly. “I bet you’d be shunned. But I still think it would’ve been better for all of us if you’d just never come back. It’s not like it’ll be that different than a few years from now anyways. We can’t all be important.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “But I guess you already figured that out when no one came to rescue you.”
Sage trembled with anger. She hoped it didn’t look like she was scared. Because at this point, it was taking all her self-control to keep herself from launching straight at Carnabel. But she couldn’t. A brawl so close to her return would definitely send her straight to a shunning, years of solitary confinement with no hope of release stretching on in front of her. She couldn’t let that happen, no matter what bet Carnabel wanted to win or how satisfying it would be to wipe that phony smile off her face.
Taking another step forward, Carnabel cracked the knuckles in her right hand, then her left.
“What do you expect to happen right now?” Sage was stalling for time. She knew exactly what Carnabel wanted to happen. But she wouldn’t throw the first punch. Her freedom mattered too much.
But to her horror, she realized she wasn’t sure she’d be in the clear even if she took a few hits before fighting back.
Also horrifying was the sudden realization that she’d become more or less surround
ed by other students while they’d been talking. She needed to get out of there.
“What do I expect?” Carnabel’s lips formed a thin, lopsided line. “I expect not to lose my bet. I expect not to be down future Chances because you didn’t have the decency to be shunned like any normal person.” She glared at Sage. “You’re. Not. Special,” she spat.
Understanding dawned on Sage. These bets were serious. They were, quite literally, life and death. And at this point, Carnabel had nothing to lose.
Her heart started pounding faster, and her palms grew clammy. She could feel the warmth of Carnabel’s breath against her as they stared each other down, almost no gap left between them. The crowd had also closed in on all sides around her, leaving her trapped in the corner of the room, confronting a sea of angry faces.
“Neither are you.” She tried to keep her tone even, but it was getting harder. “It’s not like anyone forced you to—”
The slap to her face was so forceful and unexpected that she worried she’d bit her tongue in two when her neck snapped to the side.
Sage’s hand flew to her cheek, cradling it as her mouth hung open, her tongue lolling around. The pain temporarily blinded her, leaving her defenseless as darkness slowly ebbed toward the edges of her vision. She took an involuntary step backward to protect herself from a second attack.
“Really?” She heard Carnabel snarl, but she was confused—it almost sounded like she was talking to someone on her right, but she still couldn’t see what was going on. “You’re picking sides now?”
“Yeah, actually, I am.” Sage heard Nic’s voice come from just in front of her.
“Like you’re the only one who placed a bet?” Everett chimed in irritably. Sage shot him a confused look as her vision slowly started to clear.
“Not that we need a reason,” Penelope retorted angrily.
“You made a stupid bet,” Pippa added. “Now you just have to live with it—or not.”
Their figures were taking shape in front of her now. Sage could see that she had a small line of defenders standing between her and Carnabel’s cronies.
Carnabel shifted her weight slightly, surveying the line and settling in on staring at Nic. “You’re really ok with letting all of us lose Chances? For her? Even though she needs to be shunned? We all know it. You all know it too,” she said pointedly. “She was gone. She doesn’t have the right to join our level again. They made some sort of weird exception, and they won’t say why.” She glared at Sage. “It’s not right. She’s supposed to be shunned.”
“Don’t see how that’s any of our business,” Nic said.
“Are you saying you know better than Eprah’s leaders?” Everett challenged her. “That almost sounds like you don’t trust Eprah,” he added.
Sage remained quiet as Carnabel glared between their shoulders at her.
“Well, she doesn’t deserve to be here. She’s made it worse for all of us. You know that. It’s not even just the bet—it’s everything. Everything’s worse than it was. And it’s her fault.” Carnabel regained her confidence and leaned forward. “And if none of you are willing to do what it takes—”
“Children!” Madame Humphrey’s shrill voice rang out across the room. “What in Eprah’s name is going on here?”
Dozens of stunned faces turned toward the doorway. In the midst of the tension, no one had even noticed the familiar pinch of the zeptobes signaling the end of the evening. The crowd began to disperse, leaving Sage standing practically alone. Nobody seemed willing to stick around to get blamed for what had just happened. Even her defenders were quick to blend in with the others.
Sage dropped her hand from her face in the hope that Madame Humphrey wouldn’t notice anything unusual. She felt something sticky on her fingers and looked down, puzzled.
Her stomach turned when she realized her hand was covered in blood. She hadn’t even realized she was bleeding, and she wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from—her face had been too numb to tell, but it was now prickling with pain, and experience told her it was only going to get worse.
Madame Humphrey stood for a moment longer with her hands on her hips, then crossed the room quickly, grabbing Carnabel and Sage each by one arm. Sage winced at the sharpness of her grip.
“You two young ladies seem to be at the middle of trouble quite often. Seems to me like you could both use a visit to the headmaster,” she snapped.
A metallic taste crept into Sage’s mouth, and she felt her stomach tumble as nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Carnabel didn’t even bother hiding her smug look of satisfaction. It looked like she might get her wish after all. Sage might finally be shunned.
8. INFIRMARY
Madame Humphrey nodded toward the room as she released Sage’s arm, indicating she should go inside. She tightened her grip on Carnabel and continued clacking down the hall in her heels.
Sage sighed and pushed open the door, stopping in mid-stride. To her surprise, there was a little girl already waiting in the nurse’s office.
“Hi,” she said, cringing in pain as she walked through the door.
Used to being in the room and used to waiting, Sage rummaged in a familiar drawer for an instant ice pack before taking a seat next to the little girl. The nurse was nowhere to be seen yet, but Madame Humphrey had assured her that she was on call and that she’d be notified promptly.
“Hi,” the girl replied in a whisper-quiet voice. She had a blood-soaked rag held against the bottom of her chin.
“Looks like you got yourself pretty good there,” Sage said thickly, carefully navigating her swelling tongue. She nodded slightly toward the red rag as she pressed the cold pack against the side of her own face. “What happened?”
“I-I fell.”
Sage raised an eyebrow and immediately regretted it as a sharp pain tugged at every nerve ending on one side of her face. “Hopefully not into anyone’s fist,” she said jokingly through gritted teeth.
The girl’s lip quivered. “N-no. In the bathroom.”
“I was just kidding. You shouldn’t have to worry about that. At least not until you start Bokja training. And I’m guessing that’s at least a few years off for you.” She offered her a small smile, one that didn’t require too much movement in her face. “My name’s Sage.”
“I-I’m Alira.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled shyly.
“So you decided it’d be more fun to wait in the nurse’s office than go to bed with the rest of your level?”
“No,” she said defensively, “I just slipped after my shower. The floor was wet.”
“Ah,” Sage bobbed her head knowingly. “I’ve done that before too. You’re lucky it was just your chin,” she said ruefully, thinking back to her time as a prisoner and how she’d sliced open her hand while unsuccessfully trying to catch herself on the sink. A small smile slid over her face as she recalled the triumphant discovery she’d made, but her expression turned stony as she remembered how her escape attempt had ended.
Silence fell between them for a few minutes as they waited for the nurse. Sage’s feet bounced impatiently. Despite wanting to stay distracted, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was trying not to think about the inevitable sentence that would be passed on her for getting into a fight, even though it wasn’t her fault. A shunning. After everything she’d been through, this was how it would end. Unbelievable. She choked back the sensation of rising bile.
She was vaguely aware that the girl had just said something to her.
“What?”
“Are you the one they’ve been talking about?” Alira asked timidly.
Sage shifted in her seat. “Whaddya mean?”
“Are you—were you taken last year?”
“Yeah, that was me,” Sage mumbled, staring at the ground.
Alira’s eyes were wide. “That must’ve been really scary.”
“It was,” Sage said simply. “But not the whole time,” she added
quickly, not wanting to scare her.
“D-Do you think it could happen again? T-to anyone?” The girl was trembling.
Suddenly, Sage felt almost guilty for her candidness. It wouldn’t do any good to scare this poor girl. “Of course not,” she reassured her. “Eprah cares a lot about its kids. The Institution’s really improved security since that happened. And besides, I’m back safe and sound.” She forced a smile. She abhorred spouting pro-Eprah sentiments, but she felt terrible seeing those wide green eyes staring at her in fear. And anyway, maybe she’d get lucky, and someone would be listening to her as she cheered on Eprah with unwavering confidence. Maybe that would keep her from getting shunned.
“Ahem.”
Nurse Candice appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.
“What have you two gotten yourselves into?” She frowned, her eyebrows gathered together beneath her pinned-up curls. A handkerchief was wrapped tidily around them on top of her head.
“Not the same thing.” Sage shook her head. “Alira slipped in the bathroom. I…” she hesitated, glancing at her new acquaintance out of the corner of her eye, “…did not.”
The nurse pursed her lips, unamused. “Can’t say that I’m surprised to see you in here again, Ms. Indarra. Though I can’t say I appreciate the hour.” She sighed. “I assume you can withstand your injuries a few moments longer while I attend to her.” She jerked her head toward the younger girl and began moving toward her without waiting for an answer.
“Uh-huh.”
Alira looked up at Sage in confusion.
“I’ve been in here a few times… Like I said, you’ll get used to it when you start Bokja.” She smiled, holding back a wince at the pain in the side of her jaw. “But that’s still not for awhile,” she added quickly when she saw the panicked look on the girl’s face. “What are you, a Level Five?”
“Yeah.” Alira lifted her chin so the nurse could put ointment on it.
“Plenty of time. Seems to me like you need to worry more about the shower floor for the next few years,” Sage teased.