by Dylan Steel
Sage sighed. “I’d just finished telling Nic about my parents. We were, um…” she hesitated, blushing.
“Making out?” Penelope suggested, grinning impishly.
“Thanks,” Sage said dryly.
“Wait, you told him about your parents?”
Sage nodded miserably. Penelope nodded in understanding and wisely moved on. “So what happened after your tongue tango?”
“Pen!”
“What?” She shrugged, not bothering to hide her grin. “You’re telling me that’s not what happened?”
“I—argh—no. I…” Sage shook her head, pulling herself together. “That’s not important. It’s just that that’s when the headmaster showed up.”
“I can’t believe you got caught by the headmaster. That, like, doesn’t happen.” Penelope’s brow furrowed. “He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”
“Yeah, well, I think Carnabel convinced him to make a special exception,” Sage mumbled.
“What? Why would you—”
“She was waiting for us in his office.”
“Whoa.” Penelope blinked.
“Yeah. She actually had an I-told-you-so moment with the headmaster.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.”
Sage slumped back against the wall. Penelope frowned and reached out, pulling her closer again.
“Just because they can’t hear us over running water doesn’t mean we should push our luck by talking super loud.”
“Sorry.” Sage winced. “You’re sure no one can hear us?”
“Yes. Eprah’s name.” Penelope rolled her eyes. “So you got caught…” she prompted.
“Right.”
“But not shunned.”
“Obviously.”
Penelope slugged her in the shoulder. “So tell me what happened!”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Nic’s one of the golden children of Eprah. You know that. He apparently can do no wrong—or at least, it’s not worth mentioning if he does happen to step out of line.”
“Of course.” Penelope nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“The headmaster excused him and then wanted to talk to me alone. I figured I’d hit my limit with him, ya know?”
“Sure.”
“Well, after he made sure that I knew it wasn’t too late to change my job assignment, he—”
“Wait. He threatened you?” Anger blazed behind Penelope’s eyes.
“Yeah, but—”
“I can’t believe the nerve of that man,” she fumed. “Eprah would be lucky to—”
“Pen.” Sage cut her off, looking her squarely in the eye. She was dreading this next part, and Penelope wasn’t making it any easier to get out what she needed to. “As much as I appreciate your righteous indignation, that’s not the whole point here.”
Penelope’s mouth twisted in frustration, then resignation. “Right. Sorry.”
Sage began again, swallowing hard, “He asked me about the inconsistencies in the video logs.”
Penelope didn’t say anything at first. She just stared back at Sage in disbelief. Then, finally, she squeaked out, “He knows?”
Sage nodded. “And he’s getting Mr. Gaztok involved in an investigation. I’m pretty sure the system’s impenetrable by now.”
“No,” Penelope breathed.
She hung her head. “I think it’s my fault. I’m pretty sure Carnabel had someone spying on me when I was deleting footage the other day.” Her face screwed up in pain. “Pen, I’m so sorry.”
Penelope stared at the ground, mumbling something under her breath.
“What?”
Penelope’s eyes snapped to hers, filled with a hostility that Sage had never seen before. “I said, how could you? I told you that you were doing it too much. You obviously didn’t listen.”
Sage took a small step back, bumping into the wall. “I-I’m sorry. I thought I was being careful enough. I never would’ve—”
Penelope clenched her jaw and pulled her forward again. “But you didn’t get in trouble.” It wasn’t even a question.
“No. But I—I had to suggest that the Lawless were behind it.” She cringed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t have a choice. He was asking me all this stuff, all but accusing me of—”
“No. That’s ok. I get it,” Penelope said dully. “You had to save yourself, and you’re not exactly the biggest fan of the Lawless.”
Sage dropped her gaze. “It was so stupid, Pen.”
“Oh, it definitely was.” Penelope stared at her.
“I know. I don’t know why I did it.” She winced. “That’s not true either. I just—Everett and I were talking, and he started saying all this stuff that would get him in trouble, and I didn’t want to have to report him, but then I knew that meant I’d get in trouble, and—”
“Whoa, slow down. What was he saying?”
Sage let out a breath. “I dunno, like how benefactors get advantages that aren’t fair—just stuff Eprah hates hearing.” A wry laugh escaped her lips. “Maybe he’d consider joining the cause.”
“It’s not exactly like I can ask him now,” Penelope said pointedly.
“I know. And I know that’s my fault. I’m really, really sorry. I just—I couldn’t stand the thought of turning him in for it. Who knows what they would’ve done to him for saying those things?” Sage bit her lip
The ice behind Penelope’s eyes slowly began to thaw. “Guess you’re not as selfish as you’d like to think,” she said with the smallest hint of a smile. It faded quickly. “But having our access to the security feeds cut off is a big problem.”
Sage’s shoulders tensed. “I wanted to warn you, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to find a way to tell you—I knew I wouldn’t be able to fix another conversation, and I can’t risk getting caught on the roof again.”
Penelope nodded pensively. “Yeah, no, you’re right. This was probably our only chance.” She looked Sage squarely in the eye. “Thank you.”
“I don’t know how you can warn the others, though,” Sage continued, worried. “I didn’t mean to help one person and hurt a dozen more.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Penelope said, smiling sadly. “That’s not your concern anymore.”
“But will you be able to—”
“Sage,” she interrupted her, “there’s no point in asking questions you know I can’t answer.”
“Right.” Sage frowned.
“I’m glad you told me,” Penelope said. “Sorry I kinda lost it for a minute there. I just… it’s really bad news, ya know?” Worry was still etched across her face. Sage could tell there was something she wasn’t telling her, but she knew it’d be pointless to ask. Penelope wouldn’t put either Sage or the Lawless at risk by telling her something she didn’t need to know.
“Yeah.”
“You’re a good friend.” Penelope straightened, pulling herself together. “We’re in this together, right?”
Sage’s brow knitted together. “Of course.”
“I’m serious. Even if we get totally different jobs at opposite ends of the city, we have to keep looking out for each other.”
“Duh.” Sage cocked her head, studying her curiously. Where was she going with this? Her mind was already racing through the probabilities of different scenarios and assignments for her, for Penelope—for both of them.
Penelope grabbed her arm and searched her face. Eagerness mingled with uncertainty, manifesting in a nervous energy that poured off of her. “Hey. We’re graduating in a couple weeks,” she whispered. “All of this—” she swept her hand to the side, “—is almost over. We’ll get to be with our pairs soon and not be locked inside these gates ever again. You could almost say we’ll be free.”
“Yeah,” Sage said, unsuccessful in matching her enthusiasm. “Practically.” She wasn’t sure where this sudden bout of excitement had come from, but she knew neither one of them really considered graduation freedom. Her stomach did flutter a little at the thought of
being officially paired with Nic though.
Penelope tilted her head, a smile spreading over her lips. Without warning, she threw her arms around Sage in a tight embrace.
“Don’t worry.” She spoke softly, just barely loud enough for Sage to hear. “I mean it. I know you’re worried, but you shouldn’t be. You’ve always been meant for great things, Sage Indarra. If anyone can make it out there, it’s you.”
Sage squeezed her right back, hoping she was right.
20. CEREMONY
Sage swayed on her feet. Despite the loud chatter backstage, she couldn’t hear anything over her pulse hammering in her ears. She’d dealt with nerves before, but this morning, she’d already reached a whole new level of nausea.
An instructor’s voice rang out above the noise. “Alright, graduates, please line up in the order we practiced!”
“It’ll be ok,” Penelope whispered. She squeezed Sage’s hand encouragingly and walked away to find her spot in line. Bodies shuffled around her as she stepped clumsily behind a boy she barely knew.
Sage saw Nic walk past and tried to catch his eye, but she quickly realized she couldn’t get his attention without making a scene. She bit her lip. The last conversation they’d had wasn’t good. And really, it wasn’t a conversation—it was an argument. He didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him about Carnabel’s threats all year, and frankly, she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t even sure she understood anymore. She wished she had told him everything—then, maybe they wouldn’t have been so careless as to get caught on the roof after lights out.
In all fairness, Sage hadn’t expected Carnabel to turn them both in. She’d bet that Carnabel wouldn’t do anything that could hurt Nic, but she’d obviously bet wrong. And today, she was going to find out if their nighttime excursion had earned them both a demotion.
Her stomach turned. That couldn’t happen. The headmaster had said he’d let their mistake slide.
Even with that reassurance, she couldn’t manage to steady her trembling hands.
“Is everyone in their robes?” The instructor stood on her tiptoes, trying to look over everyone’s heads. “Yes? Good. Go ahead and find your seats onstage. We’re about to begin.”
The line surged forward, a mix of excitement and dread clear on their faces as they filed into place. Sage climbed a couple rows of risers before taking her assigned seat, grateful that her wobbly legs didn’t have to support her for a little while.
“Quiet down, quiet down!” The instructor paced in front of the students, snapping her fingers at pockets of chatty graduates. “No more talking. It’s about to begin. You should all be on your best behavior during the ceremony. Good luck, everyone! May you all serve Eprah well.”
Sage couldn’t remember ever feeling so sick before stepping onto this stage. She’d done it more than a dozen times before, but never before had there been such a finality in the air. They were about to be released from the Institution, but this definitely wasn’t freedom. It was suffocating.
A muffled voice sounded on the other side of the curtain. The headmaster. At his word, the graduation ceremony had begun.
The instructor snapped at a couple more students and shot them a reprimanding look before scrambling offstage into the wings.
Sage’s chest rose and fell quickly despite her best efforts to remain calm. She ran her finger along the smooth edge of her bracelet. The small piece of jewelry had been a constant with her for years, and it was about to become more important than ever.
In front of her, the velvet curtains suddenly parted, whooshing aside to thunderous applause. The audience and the headmaster came into view. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“…they need no introduction, but I would be remiss not to give them their due. Ladies and gentlemen,” the headmaster angled himself toward the edge of the stage, “please welcome our Quorum of Five!”
Sage watched as the members of the Quorum passed by in front of her. She’d never been this close to them before, and she could see why they’d decided to start training at least one of their replacements. They walked across the stage with a sense of dignity despite their slower motions and somewhat stooped postures. They were hard and proud, but they were also old, and that fact was getting harder to disguise.
Mortality claimed everyone eventually, no matter how high they’d flown in life.
As the headmaster launched into a familiar speech about civic duty and Eprah’s benevolence and provision, Sage scanned the rows in front of her, trying to find Nic. Assigned seats were helpful for handing out awards and assignments, but they were terrible in pretty much every other respect. She was sandwiched between strangers, and she hated it.
Her attention snapped back to the front when she realized one of her fellow Sixteens was standing to receive an award. One of the women from the Quorum leaned forward to pin a red ribbon to his robe.
“… and this high honor…”
Headmaster Alexander was working his way through the list, barely pausing long enough for each Quorum member to find the honored graduate, let alone administer the small ribbons.
The high honors were a big deal, and not just as a matter of vanity. A handful of extra Chances were awarded to each recipient, depending on the high honor mentioned.
Sage smiled each time one of her friends stood. Nic, Penelope, Pippa, Marnie, even Everett—they all received an award for one thing or another, and fortunately nothing too obscure. The more obscure the honor, the fewer Chances awarded.
Normally, these ceremonies dragged by, but today was different. Today, she was on edge with every announcement and small revelation about her and her friends’ futures.
As the academic honors wound down, Sage braced herself for her turn. The Bokja award was coming soon, and as the tournament champion, the high honor was pretty much guaranteed to be hers.
“…This high honor goes to Carnabel Mapait, for best in Bokja.”
Sage’s brow furrowed. Her eyes shot to the headmaster, who paused just long enough to flash her a subtle grin before returning to his list of accolades. She swallowed, clenching her fists at her side. So her indiscretions hadn’t gone unpunished. As long as they’d won as a Sixteen, the Bokja Tournament champion always got the award for Best in Bokja. Her stomach roiled as she watched Carnabel curtsy and lean forward to receive her red ribbon.
Bitterness seeped its way inside her, wrapping around her heart. That honor was hers. She’d earned it—not Carnabel. That girl was determined to take everything she could from her. Kunbriat or not, Sage would find a way to make her pay.
Sage spent so long stewing over the injustice of her missed award that she nearly missed the transition from high honors to career placements. She shifted her weight in her seat, unsuccessfully trying to ease her nerves. To her surprise, she actually found herself straining to listen to the headmaster. For the first time since she’d met the man with the unpleasant smile, she wanted to hear every word out of his mouth.
“…they have been undergoing specific training for the past year, we all know that job training does not always equate to their final job placement, and I know we have a few surprises in store today.”
Sage sucked in a breath. This was it. All her years of study and preparation had led to this moment.
All she could do now was hope.
“To The Office of City Beautification, the following graduates are assigned.”
Sage listened carefully, wondering whose names she would hear—hoping hers wouldn’t be among them. Not Beautification.
“…Marnie Price, Cosmo Quarrez…”
Her stomach gave a slight lurch. As much as she’d tried not to think about Cosmo too often over the past year, she was still happy for him. He’d secured a decent placement, and that meant he’d have a fighting chance at surviving in Eprah. Marnie too.
“The following graduates will work within the Cabinet of the People…”
Sage sat a little taller. It was her turn. This is what she’d spent the last two
years training for. She listened closely, holding her breath as she waited to hear her name.
“…Everett Edington…”
Glancing down her row, she could see the relief on Everett’s face when his name was called. She chewed her lip and turned her full attention back to the headmaster. It would be embarrassing to miss hearing her own name.
“The following graduates will be placed under the supervision of the Dignitary of the Peace…”
Her heart stopped. No. They couldn’t be done with the Cabinet placements. The headmaster hadn’t called her name.
Maybe she’d just missed hearing it somehow. She swung her head to the side, panicking, looking for a clue among her peers. Her gaze landed on Penelope, and she managed to catch her eye. A strange expression flashed over Penelope’s face, but she couldn’t figure out what it meant before she looked away. Maybe she’d heard her name called along with the other Cabinet workers?
She didn’t have to wonder long.
“…Sage Indarra…”
Her eyes widened.
No. No-no-no-no-no-no. Not the Peace. Not the place where she’d learned about her parents’ death. Not the place where she’d seen Mr. Walsh tortured.
A high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears as her breathing grew shallower. She had to have heard him wrong.
She was vaguely aware that the headmaster had moved on to other job placements. Part of her was still listening, trying to make a note of where her friends had been placed, but the other part of her was quickly spiraling out of control, utterly terrified of both the known and unknown about her new assignment.
The rational part of her managed to listen just enough to hear Nic’s name called in response to a position with Altirek. At least he’d gotten the job he’d trained for. That was good for him, she thought, already becoming numb to what was happening around her.
She completely missed hearing where Penelope was assigned—but she at least knew her name had been called before the list for factory jobs, so she wasn’t too worried. She’d ask her about it later. Penelope would understand.