‘Even you know it,’ Egan told me, meeting my eyes. I shook my head.
‘No. I don’t.’ I exhaled. It felt good to say what I believed.
‘Well, whatever. The rest of you must have some sense, then?’
I looked over my friends. I wasn’t sure why this was so important to me – why I was arguing so firmly for a council I’d not really known until so recently – but I wanted their support. Sophia folded her arms.
‘I don’t know where you’ve been all month, Egan, but we’ve been studying under the White Elm, being treated perfectly well and having absolutely no reason to stop trusting them,’ she said. ‘And perhaps they have upset Lisandro, but if I’m to choose between the White Elm and a murderer…’
‘What exactly makes you so sure that the White Elm didn’t kill Peter?’ Egan countered, taking over his mother’s role as devil’s advocate.
‘Lord Gawain said-’ Hiroko began.
‘Did it occur to you that maybe Lord Gawain lied?’ Egan asked, rolling his eyes. ‘No one can corroborate even one single detail of their story, from how the guy died to who killed him or even where they found him-’
‘I can,’ I interrupted. ‘I’m the one-’
‘Aristea!’ Renatus cut me off sharply, shouldering between Xanthe and Addison to reach the centre of the circle. ‘That’s enough.’ He gave me a silencing look and turned to Egan. ‘What is that?’
‘And who, exactly, are you?’ Egan’s mother asked in the rudest voice she could muster up, but Renatus ignored her except to spare her a small, disdainful glance out of the corner of his eye. The woman visibly deflated, realising that this man was not somebody she could intimidate.
‘Egan, what is that?’ Renatus asked again. Egan’s self-assured air was totally gone in light of the headmaster’s arrival. His mother gathered her confidence and answered for him.
‘This is Lisandro’s way of showing us why he left this sorry council,’ she proclaimed, gesturing again to the sphere in her son’s hand. ‘He’s trying to show us that he’s a friend and a necessary revolutionist. This is evidence that the White Elm are power-hungry killers, and they’re trying to stamp out people like Lisandro who oppose them.’
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Renatus said coldly. ‘You just sound ill-informed and ignorant. Give that to me, Egan.’
My friends, Egan’s friends and I stood in silence as the Lakes stared at Renatus and his outstretched hand with identical expressions of mixed fear and resentment.
Egan hesitated for a long moment, and then plastered a self-assured expression across his face.
‘I don’t think I will,’ he said, closing his fingers over the ball.
‘Now,’ Renatus ordered; Egan’s expression slipped. ‘I won’t have these lies go any further.’
‘You’re not having it,’ Egan said adamantly. He glanced over at one of his friends, who stood behind me, and I figured that they were communicating telepathically, as telepaths were prone to do. Egan turned back to face Renatus, and his voice was cold and firm as he said, ‘I hate you – the lot of you – and I’m out of here.’
With that said, he tossed the sphere to his friend. It was a quick throw but I guessed its trajectory and shot out my hand. I caught it with ease, a thousand games of catch with my brother to thank for those reflexes. It was cool and smooth, but that was not my first impression. Voices, pictures and feelings started to overwhelm me.
The man with long black hair, secured in a sleek ponytail…His voice, friendly and charming…A feeling of calm and honesty…’I met Gawain twelve years ago. He wasn’t the Lord back then’…
I might have been convinced that there was no real harm in allowing the story to continue – the brain functions so quickly that I could have played the whole recording and known all its contents in only a few seconds – but for the spark of horror I felt at the instant my fingertips touched the crystal. My mind was made up.
I forcibly threw the sphere at the cobbled path and it shattered.
‘What are you doing?’ Egan yelled at me, angry. I ignored him and looked at Renatus, his hand still held out, waiting. He’d wanted the sphere, to view its contents and assess the situation properly, and I’d interfered in a huge way, well overstepping my boundaries. How furious would he be with me now?
‘Aristea?’ Sterling whispered, clearly frightened for me. Renatus was still staring at me, though now he dropped his hand. I stood up straighter, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for what I’d just done. I couldn’t think of one. I’d really had no right to take matters into my own hands like that, but the flicker of horror I’d felt had been his and there had only seemed to be one correct action.
Now there were two things I wanted to say. My head told me that there was only really one appropriate utterance, but my heart said it was a lie. I took a massive chance, still unable to believe that any of the things I’d said or done in the last five minutes were really said or done by me.
‘I’m…I’m not sorry,’ I said, unable to get much volume. I was really in for it now.
Renatus was still just watching me, and though his expression did not change, I felt acceptance.
‘Pack your things, Egan,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Turn in your key and you can go. I’m sure it won’t bother you that you won’t be welcome back. Aristea, Sterling; please close the gate for me. The rest of you, please find somewhere else to be for the time being.’
Like a toddler having a small tantrum, Egan withdrew his key from his pocket and threw it to the ground with much more force than was required. He stalked away, and his mother went to follow but was stopped by Renatus. Egan turned back to watch.
‘Not you,’ Renatus said to the mother. ‘You’re not welcome in my house. I will ignore that you have entered my estate without invitation, but you intend to spread your misguided beliefs to our students and for that reason, I won’t allow you inside.’
‘Misguided beliefs?’ Egan’s mother repeated, infuriated. She pointed at the shards of glass at my feet. ‘That stupid girl destroyed proof-’
‘Another word against my council or my students and, I assure you, you will be extremely sorry.’
Sterling and I moved off quickly as the group dispersed. As soon as we were out of the range of eavesdroppers, Sterling seized my elbow and gave a small, girlish squeal of excitement.
‘He knows my name!’ she stage-whispered. Her brown eyes sparkled and her smile was manic. ‘I don’t believe it. Can you believe it?’
‘Yes,’ I said, laughing. ‘He knows my name and Egan’s name, too.’
‘But Egan’s trouble, and you’re a semi-permanent fixture of his office,’ Sterling responded dismissively. She paused. ‘Maybe you’re trouble, too. Since when do you break stuff and argue with adults?’
‘Oh,’ I laughed nervously, feeling much less confident now that the situation was behind me. ‘I don’t know. I just…reacted. I probably shouldn’t have broken that ball thing.’
‘I’ve never seen you like that,’ Sterling said. ‘But that’s what got you into trouble in the first place, isn’t it? Arguing with Qasim? Can’t believe you stood up to that lady like that! And what was with that “I’m not sorry” stuff with Renatus?’
I shrugged uncomfortably. I didn’t really want to explain that whole story to Sterling. To sustain our friendship, I had to report daily on my interactions with the headmaster in my detentions. Some conversations I had with him could be mine and mine alone, surely?
Luckily, Sterling had already changed the topic. Back.
‘I still can’t believe he called me by name. Did you notice he didn’t address anyone else by name?’ With an intake of breath so sharp and sudden that I thought she’d been hurt, she stopped and faced me. ‘Aristea, what if he’s been watching me?’
I started laughing again. ‘What?’
‘No, really. Do you think it’s possible? You’ve said he hasn’t mentioned me t
o you, but that doesn’t mean anything if he’s naturally shy…Stop laughing.’
‘You’re just so hopeless,’ I said, trying to contain my laughter and failing.
‘He probably thinks that I think he’s too old, but really, a few years don’t make that big of a difference,’ Sterling continued, gazing off into nothingness. ‘My mom’s partner is nine years older than she is, and I don’t think Renatus is that much older than us. He’s obviously one of the youngest on the council. I don’t think he’d even be twenty-five.’
I agreed with her words – people from entirely different generations fell in love all the time and lived happily ever after, and age wasn’t really that much of a factor. And she was also right, I strongly suspected, about Renatus’s age. He looked to be about the same age as my twenty-three-year-old sister and cousin. However, Sterling’s theory had not yet covered the problem of the student-teacher boundary, and I mentioned this.
‘That’s probably why he hasn’t said anything or made any advances,’ Sterling explained excitedly, grasping my hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘Of course! He thinks that I’ll think that it’s inappropriate.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No. He’s not my teacher. He’s a politician acting as a headmaster for a training facility. He’s young and he’s single.’
‘We think.’
‘Yes,’ Sterling agreed, releasing my hands. ‘And he’s hot and he’s got that accent and that voice. Did you see how he handled that situation? I love how he just takes control. It’s sexy as. I just want him.’ Dramatically, she turned away and we started for the gate again.
‘So, what’s your plan?’ I asked when we reached the end of the path. Sterling gave me an inquiring glance as I pulled the heavy, cast iron gate into alignment with its pair. ‘Will I be totally embarrassed for you?’
Sterling considered this as she pulled her key out from her bra and locked the gate.
‘Well, I don’t see how it’ll embarrass you,’ she said. We began walking back up the path, slowly, because Renatus and Egan’s mother were still standing together further along the path. Neither of them seemed to be speaking. ‘I might embarrass myself, but that’s my business,’ she added as an afterthought. She stopped again and turned to me, slightly uphill so that she was looking down at me. She was a little shorter than I was when we stood on even ground, though it was only a few centimetres of difference. ‘I’ll test him. I’ll let him see me with someone else.’
I froze, trying to make sense of this.
‘Like…?’
‘Like, flirting with someone else,’ she supplied, as though this were an obvious implication.
‘You’re going to flirt with someone. That’s it? What will that achieve?’ I asked, unable to comprehend Sterling-logic. She sighed again, as if I were a little bit slow.
‘I told you, it’s a test,’ she said. ‘If he’s interested in me, and he sees me with this other guy, or even just hears about it, he’ll be jealous, and his behaviour will change and I’ll know.’
She beamed, triumphant, and I tried to smile back. I’d seen this attempted in movies, and it never worked. It only ever made things worse.
‘You’ve picked someone out then?’ I pressed, waiting. I was really hoping that maybe she’d found a nice guy that she could eventually fall for – someone that was actually possible.
‘He’s very cute. Nothing on Renatus, obviously, but cute in his own right.’
‘Do I know him?’ I asked, still hoping.
‘Yes,’ Sterling said with a nod. ‘I’m going to start laying the groundwork as soon as I can, letting people see us together so word will move around the school. I can’t assume I’ll get them in the same room together, for Renatus to actually see, so a rumour might have to do.’
‘So, you’re leading some poor boy on,’ I verified, ‘in the hope that Renatus will see and be jealous.’
‘Don’t say “boy”, you make it sound like I’m hitting on a twelve-year-old. That’s so wrong.’
‘Who is this unfortunate young man, then?’ I asked, choosing not to point out that the age gap between Sterling and a twelve-year-old boy was about the same as the gap between Sterling and Renatus.
‘Not telling, you’ll spoil it,’ Sterling said. ‘He’s someone cute and someone nice.’
‘Oh, no,’ I said, a face coming to mind. ‘It’s not Addison, is it?’
‘Eww, no!’ Sterling wrinkled her nose. ‘He’s way too weird.’
Like Addison could possibly be considered weird beside anyone as unusual as Renatus.
‘This is going to be awesome,’ Sterling said with an excited shiver.
‘You’re so hopeless,’ I said again, shaking my head and smiling. We deviated from the path when we noticed our friends sitting on a hill, and headed for them.
‘Maybe,’ Sterling said with a shrug. ‘I don’t care. I love him.’
‘Love’s a big word to use with someone you hardly know,’ I cautioned. Sterling shrugged again and gazed sidelong at Renatus.
‘Maybe,’ she said again.
A cold breeze cut across the estate, and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. My fingers brushed against crumpled paper, and I pulled the offending page free and slowed to read it. Sterling leaned against my shoulder curiously.
Dylan Wright
Isao Tanaka
Khalida Jasti
Constantine Vogel
Joshua Reyes
Aristea Byrne
Xanthe Giannopoulos
Iseult Taylor
I hadn’t meant to take this from Renatus’s office, and I’d forgotten until now that after leaving with it the other day I’d shoved it into the pocket of that day’s jeans (which I’d not bothered to put in the wash, and which I was wearing once again), intending to return the list shortly. I didn’t need to glance back at Renatus to guess that now was probably not an appropriate time.
‘What’s that?’ Sterling asked. I smoothed the crumpled edges with my fingers.
‘My scrying class.’ Why Renatus would want to keep a list of the students in my scrying class was beyond me, but it wasn’t nearly as mystifying as his overreaction to my finding of the list, his ability to read my thoughts, or the visions and feelings I’d channelled from him. Or the way he’d just accepted it without discussion when I’d broken that sphere, interfering with what definitely would have been evidence in a White Elm investigation.
Sterling laughed and pushed away from me.
‘You carry around a list of people from your class,’ she said, ‘and you think I’m weird.’
The reach of Lisandro was mightier than the council had ever realised.
On Monday morning, Aubrey stood with Jadon at the door of dormitory one while two of Jadon’s students packed their bags for home.
‘Got everything?’ Jadon asked, apparently at a loss as to what to say. The boys, both sixteen years old, nodded silently. The ever-shrinking world of social networking had made it possible for people to communicate with strangers with more ease and convenience than ever before, and Egan Lake’s mother had taken full advantage.
Six families had contacted the White Elm over the weekend to cancel their children’s enrolment. Two of these had simply turned up to take their kids home with them, unhappy and sold on Lisandro’s story; two more had telepathically contacted their children to tell the White Elm the same story; one had written asking for a councillor to bring her boy home as soon as was convenient. One mother had arrived at the gates in a state of hysterics, insisting she hadn’t believed the story but was afraid that the war was looking to be escalating shortly and didn’t want her child in the midst after all.
‘Let’s go, then,’ Aubrey said. The boys shared muttered goodbyes with their roommates and left their dorm for the last time. When Jadon extended a hand, both gave in their keys.
‘See you, Jadon,’ one boy, Michael, said, shaking his supervisor’s hand brief
ly. The other hesitated before doing the same.
‘Yeah. See you. Thanks for everything.’
They went down the stairs, one to meet his uncle and the other to meet Elijah to be displaced home. They were gone. Jadon folded his arms and stared down the now-empty stairwell.
‘That sucks so much,’ he commented.
‘Agreed.’ Aubrey clapped his friend’s shoulder. They’d only had the students for a month or so and it seemed unfair to lose them so early over something so ridiculously small. Hearsay? An overreacting mother’s fanciful tale? It was hard not to be impressed with Lisandro’s storytelling if he could incite such passion and trust with only words.
And just a little hint of magic…
‘I’m down to two students, just like that.’
‘You can have one of mine if that makes you feel better,’ Aubrey offered, steering Jadon up the stairs with him on his way to his classroom. ‘I still have four.’
‘At this rate we could all be down to none by next weekend,’ Jadon said negatively. Aubrey didn’t bother to counter that. There was no reason to think every student would go, but also few reasons to expect that any would be able to stay. He also knew that in his current mood, words would do little to bolster Jadon’s spirits.
Aubrey had only known Jadon, and everyone else on the White Elm, for about half a year. Initiated at the same time and similar in age, Aubrey had immediately connected with the sociable and impulsive American, as well as the sweet and sensitive Romanian Teresa. He’d not expected those initial friendly exchanges to transform into friendships as deep as family bonds, nor had he intended them to. This was meant to be just a job – a means to an end; a way to secure his future with his beautiful girlfriend Shell – but it had become a life. Distanced from the rest of the council by mistrust and uncertainty of competence, the three new initiates had banded together, intent on proving themselves and demonstrating their worth to the senior councillors. Aubrey had never known two other people so supportive and emotionally invested in his successes as Jadon and Teresa were – even his three blood brothers showed less care than these two new friends.
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