by Ashley Maker
But now I’m not so sure anymore, and it’s their fault.
All of this is their fault.
My eyes blur and I stumble on one of the wooden steps. I throw out an arm to catch myself, fingers snagging on the railing, but it doesn’t stop the momentum. I thump lightly into Kade’s back.
He whirls in an instant, hands reaching out to steady me. Our eyes meet, and even through the stinging unshed tears, I see the concern in his. We’re standing so close I can hear him breathing, and over Laila’s perfumed coat I can tell he smells like soap. And pine trees. He smells like soapy-clean pine trees. A slight pressure, a warmth, transfers from his hands to the place where he’s touching my arms.
“You okay?” he asks.
All my thoughts feel jumbled together, like I stuck them in a washing machine and they got tangled. I focus on his hands, then the steps. Throat thick with emotion, I swallow, nod, and pull away. My face burns as we start down the stairs.
Laila comes into view when we round the last spiral, waiting for us on the ground floor landing. Thankfully, there aren’t any girls standing around like earlier. The huge room is completely deserted. Laila darts a glance between me and Kade, her brow furrowed and lips pressed together. Then her face relaxes and she smirks.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those perpetually clumsy girls,” she says, nodding at the staircase. “Because it’s really not that hard to watch where you’re going and lift your feet at the same time. Even the little girls here can do it. But if you don’t think you’re up to it, maybe my dad will move you to the girl’s junior dormitory. You can room with the other children, and they can give you some pointers on—”
“Let it go already.” Kade rolls his eyes. “It’s not funny.”
Her grin turns to a sneer. “Like you even know what funny is.”
He rolls his eyes again, but the two of them stop attacking each other. She slinks across the room and flings the front door open, not even bothering to catch it as it bounces off the doorstop on the wall. No one talks again as we trek outside into the wind and snow, our feet rustling over the cobblestone path.
In the dim light from the lampposts, I can tell the scale of the place is massive. The path we’re on takes a circular route with paths branching off at intervals, each one leading to a new building. Some of them resemble the dormitory mansion we just left, while others are structured more like a lodge. All of them glow with warm yellow light, cocooned together in the dark under thick, snow-heavy clouds.
Frigid gusts of wind send newly fallen snow swirling at our feet; it creeps in through the gaps of my coat, making me shiver as Laila leads the way to one of the lodge buildings. My muscles stiffen as we get closer. Through the glass panes of the double doors, I catch glimpses of wooden dining tables and high-backed chairs. In those chairs are teenagers. Lots of them.
One by one, every single face turns to stare at us as we enter the fancy cafeteria.
Their talking stops, and it’s like I’ve walked into a nightmare, the one where I’m not wearing any clothes and everybody in the room is staring. Except, I am wearing clothes, and they’re still staring at me.
Someone’s silverware clatters against a plate, shattering the silence. Heads tilt toward each other. A hum of whispered conversation spreads from one table to the next, raising the hairs on the nape of my neck.
Something isn’t right.
I’ve been the new girl before, but never like this. Most of the time, people are curious, but they’re also friendly about it. There’s nothing friendly about the way these people are looking at me.
They’re looking at me like I’ve done something wrong. Like I’m some kind of deviant who kicks puppies. Their eyes are narrowed, and they have pinched mouths, like they ate something sour that they’d rather spit out. It’s similar to how the girls at the mansion stared at me, but much worse. Some of the younger teenagers—the “children” Laila must have been referring to—even look scared of me.
Laila says, “Are we just going to stand here all day or what? I’m starving.”
Kade scans the entire room before his gaze lands on me. “We should get our food and eat on the balcony. I can make a fire.”
“While you’re at it, why don’t you give her a swaddling blanket and a binky?” Laila snaps. “She needs to meet everyone. Might as well do it fast and all at once, like a Band-Aid.” She gives him a funny look. “Why are you being so protective of her? You’re not like that with any of the other students.”
He runs a hand through his hair before crossing arms over his chest “She’s not from here, and it’s her first day. That means she’s not like any of the other students. Cut her some slack, Laila.”
I flinch when I notice the interest shown by the teenagers at the table nearest the doors. “I’m right here. You could just ask me if I want to eat inside or on the balcony instead of talking about me like I’m not in the room.”
They both look at me with surprised expressions. Laila’s phone buzzes. After glancing at the screen, she scowls at the same nearby table. Loud enough for everyone to hear, she says, “Stop being such a coward and come over here if you want to know.”
The teens at the table erupt into laughter.
One of the guys shouts back, “Introduce me!”
I focus on him and almost do a double-take. He looks a lot like Laila. The two of them have the same white-blond hair and almond-shaped eyes, though his features are a little more chiseled. Aside from the obvious gender difference, they look like they could be twins. He tilts his head sideways, flipping shaggy white hair out of his face, and his lips part, revealing a crooked grin. I don’t have to ask who he is. I’m pretty sure I already know.
Laila confirms my suspicion when she huffs out an annoyed breath and says, “That idiot’s my brother Tarry.” She raises her voice at him. “You can get off your lazy butt if you want to know her name.”
His grin widens and his eyes meet mine. He looks like he’s about to say something—I can see the words forming on his lips—but he freezes at the same time Kade’s voice brushes close to my ear.
“We really should get moving. The line will only be open for another five or ten minutes.”
My eyes are still on Tarry when he slides his attention over to Kade. The structure around his eyes shifts. One second, he looks happy and relaxed, and the next his expression is dark, marred by angry-looking furrows above his eyes. Then it’s gone, and he’s smiling again. If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I would have thought I imagined the whole thing.
But I definitely didn’t imagine it.
“You know, you actually have a point for once,” Laila concedes with a sigh. She scowls at her brother again. “And maybe you’re right that we should eat on the balcony. The caf is a little crowded tonight.”
They start weaving in and out of the tables on their way to the dinner line, and I have no choice but to follow.
“Hey, Blue Eyes!” Tarry calls out, making me glance at his table again. There’s a pull in his gaze that keeps my eyes on his. Still grinning, he gives one of those chin-lift nods. “I’ll see you around.”
A fluttery feeling in my chest.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
And even then…
9
“So what’s the deal with you?” Laila asks later. We’re back in her room, rearranging furniture to make space for the twin-sized bed the movers brought in while we were gone. She gives another heave against the frame; the bed slides into place against the wall. “Have you phased yet?”
I wipe sweaty palms against my jeans. Aside from instructions on where to move what, this is the first time she’s talked to me since Kade left. “Phased?”
“I’ll take that as a no.” She snatches a few books off the floor and stacks them into the cranny spaces of the already overflowing bookshelf. “How old are you anyway?” Her tone makes me feel like I’m the last girl to start my period or something.
“I
’ll be seventeen in June.”
“Hmm.” She shoves the last book onto the shelf. “Well, at least you’re not behind Swift. That’d be a little hard to live down as a transfer student.”
“Why? Who’s Swift?”
Laila opens her mouth, but closes it and gives me a funny look. “He’s one of Tarry’s friends. He hasn’t started phasing yet. He’ll be the last student in his class.” Her cheeks twitch with a barely contained smile. “Well, except for you now. Maybe you guys will hit it off.”
She laughs, giggling like it’s the most hilarious joke ever. I smile with my lips pressed together and nod even though I have no idea why she thinks it’s so funny. Unease from not knowing what’s going on makes my stomach ache. I grab hold of my bags and haul them onto the bare mattress. They’re the only connection I have left to my old life. Just the feel of the familiar canvas under my fingertips sends a trickle of calm through me.
“I’m going to go find you some sheets and a blanket, but you can go ahead and start unpacking if you want. Make yourself at home, roomie.” She grins, clearly still amused, and disappears out the door.
A heavy breath escapes. I have no idea what to think of Laila. She acted completely psychotic around Kade, but she’s seemed calmer since he left, not quite as crazy. Not that I can blame her. He’s pretty infuriating.
I don’t know what to think of him, either.
My anger from earlier has faded from a roar to more of a twinge. Expecting him to be on my side was stupid. We’d only just met. He didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him. It was completely ridiculous for me to think he wouldn’t pick his job over my trust, misplaced as it was. Not that his choice doesn’t still sting, because it does. I really did think he understood. But I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Who knows if I’ll even see him again?
I pull clothes from my bags and reorganize them into piles to be put away in the drawers built into the frame of my bed. When I reach the bag containing toiletries, I freeze. All of the items missing upon my arrival have been returned. My hand hovers over the snow globe Mom gave me. Guilt settles deep when I realize how close I’d come, how willing I’d been to smash it to bits against the two-way mirror. The tips of my fingers touch the smooth glass. I’m about to pick it up when Laila comes traipsing into the room, arms loaded with bedding.
My heart jumps with the rest of me. I yank my hand back.
“Found the motherload,” she says, dumping it all onto the mattress. “I’ll talk to my dad about letting you order a custom set though. Dorm sheets are gross.”
“Thanks.” I smile at her last comment. The white sheets look fine to me. No stains or anything. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
We make quick work of putting the bed together. After smoothing the gray comforter into place and putting my new pillow into a pillowcase, I follow Laila to the closet, where she shows me about a foot of space she says is mine. Jam-packed with girly clothes and a plethora of shoes hanging over the back of the door in one of those space organizers, the closet is at odds with the books and weapons in the room. There’s more girly stuff in the bathroom where makeup and hair accessories are arranged neatly in the drawers and cabinet.
“You’re lucky to be rooming with me,” she says, gesturing at one of the two drawers she’s cleaned out under the sink. “Only staff rooms have their own private bathroom. The students have to share.”
I hadn’t realized she was one of the staff. But after all the things Mathias accused me of, it figures he won’t let me room with someone my age.
Laila smirks. “There’s only one mirror, too. You should see the mad dash every morning.”
I wrinkle my nose at the thought and put my toiletries into the drawer.
After a brief pause, Laila says, “Well, I suppose you will. You’ll probably only be staying with me until summer break. Maybe less if we find the right girl for you to room with.”
Back in the bedroom, I ask, “What about during summer break? Do I get to go home?”
“You’ll still be here, training with me and Kade, but I bet you’ll get your own room.”
My stomach dips. So much for not seeing Kade again. “Nobody goes home for the summer?”
“Most do. But some students are in accelerated training programs, like you.” She grabs a stick of lip gloss out of the top desk drawer and applies a pink layer to her lips. “Of course, verified Seers never get to leave, not without special permission and a team of guards.”
“Wait, they never get to leave?”
“Not until graduation, but that’s only if they pass their senior trial.”
Not until graduation? Mathias already thinks I might be a Seer. I can’t even begin to fathom what an accelerated training program is, or a senior trial, or why anyone would need guards. My heart thumps wildly against the confines of my ribcage as breaths rasp in and out, harsh and ragged. I might have gotten away from Chris and his ridiculous house arrest, but in reality all I did was exchange one cage for another, and I’m pretty sure this is one I can’t escape. A tight feeling settles over me when I realize they’re never going to let me leave, not for over a year at least.
Trapped, trapped, trapped.
“Bathroom,” I manage to gasp out, stumbling across the room and slamming the door shut.
Bracing both arms on the granite countertop, I try to breathe deep. But no matter how many breaths I take, my body refuses to listen. My heart keeps pounding. My palms turn clammy. I feel like I might throw up right into the sink. To top it off, there’s something seriously wrong with my eyes. Everything is fuzzy at the edges, like my vision is going out of focus from the outside in, and a tiny, stinging vibration makes me blink again and again.
I lean forward and look up at the mirror, and my eyes—
They change.
A thick black ring appears around them, and the blue turns to sunburst gold. Coldness surges through my body, coiling in my chest, and I gasp at the clarity, the detail staring back at me. Because I can see every fiber, every strand of the irises. How they touch and pull away, blending seamlessly like threads in a tapestry.
It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.
But it’s as if I’m looking at a stranger. The glowing gold irises make my face look ethereal under the florescent lights, standing in stark contrast to the thick black bands encircling them. A whimper rises in my throat, and I start to feel all panicky, because my eyes really are gold, I look strange, and by all things reasonable, a girl should never be able to look in the mirror and see her face in such detail.
And then it’s gone, and I’m stumbling backward so fast I slam into the wall. An ache settles along my spine and skull. I groan and rub the back of my head. Closing my gaping mouth, I try to swallow, but it’s like there’s glue in the back of my throat stopping me. I can’t breathe. Air isn’t reaching my lungs, though my chest is heaving in and out.
When I look in the mirror again, it’s like nothing ever happened. The strange fuzzy super-vision is gone. There’s no more hyper-detail to make the pores on my face stand out like craters. No more gold and black. Just blue, the same blue I’ve known all my life.
Thoughts ricochet like stray bullets in my head, but when they finally settle, there’s only one:
What have they done to me?
Keeping a hand pressed to the sore spot on my head, I try not to sway as a pounding headache attacks without warning, making everything spin. I’m leaning against the sink when the door thuds hard into my shoulder, propelling me sideways onto the white tiles.
“What’s going on in here?” Laila asks, opening the door the rest of the way. Then she gasps. “What are you doing on the floor?”
I try to tell her she put me there, but only a garbled groan comes out.
With a strong grip, she grabs my arm and hauls me to my feet. Once I’m standing, I wince and point at the door with one hand.
“I was standing there.”
“Oh,” Laila says. Understanding flashes across her face.
“Oh! I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
My back and head throb, my shoulder aches, and I feel like someone put tiny flaming charcoals in my eyes. I am definitely not okay. This is my chance to tell her what just happened, but if I do, what will that mean? What will they do to me?
“I’ll be fine,” I say, and I pause, still unsure.
“Didn’t you hear me knocking? I thought something happened. I thought maybe…”
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s an eagerness that keeps my mouth shut. She’s waiting for me to confirm her suspicions—I can see the anticipation in her eyes—but I’m not going to. I won’t. Because they really did do this to me, didn’t they? They must have put something in my food. Or injected me with that stupid expert serum they keep talking about while I was knocked out.
“No. I mean, yeah, I did hear you knocking.” I didn’t. “I just needed to be alone for a minute. All of this” —I rub my eyes. I can’t help it. They really hurt— “is all happening so fast. One minute I’m living with my dad, and the next I’m here, and none of this is familiar. And now I can’t go back.”
My eyes tear, which makes me sniffle and rub at them even more. I’m such a blubbering mess that I’m going to give myself away. I need to get her away from me—and fast.
“I feel gross. Do you care if I take a shower?”
The suspicion is still in her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Towels are in the cabinet.”
I nod and do my best to swallow the feeling swirling inside. I try to focus on the here and now, and I force myself to pretend everything is okay. But only until she shuts the door behind her and I’m alone. Then I don’t try to hold back. I crumple into the bottom of the shower and cry until the steaming water turns colder than my tears.
10