by April White
We found prison cells and storage rooms, underground passages connecting towers, and small staircases that led nowhere. I wished the Royal Residence hadn’t been torn down. The few pieces of foundation that were left told us very little about the layout of the place, and we could only guess where the queen’s apartments had been. Most of the upper floors had evidence of garderobes, which were seats with a hole in them for the waste to fall in the moat outside the Tower. If I thought the Thames stank in 1888, I couldn’t imagine what it must have smelled like with all that raw sewage flowing in.
Nothing we found was exactly what we remembered from Archer’s vision, but the architecture seemed close enough to guess it was the Tower. And the blueprints from the Bell Tower showed a room tantalizingly similar to the shape of the room we remembered.
We had explored as much as we could without breaking into locked doors, and I was starting to get cold. Archer saw me shiver and wrapped his soft jacket around my shoulders. The way out was through the gate at the Bloody Tower, and because the place was closed for the night, Archer boosted me over the fence at the entrance so I wouldn’t tear my dress. When we were finally snuggled into the back seat of a taxi on our way back to the War Museum, I leaned my head into Archer’s chest and sighed. “This is the best night I’ve ever had.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “So, dungeons and secret passages in a sexy dress is your thing?”
“My combats are the only thing that could have made it better.”
He laughed and pulled me close. “The next dress you wear will go with combat boots then.”
I gazed up at his smiling face with a blissed-out look on mine. “Thanks.”
He kissed me softly on the lips, then pulled me back in to snuggle against his chest.
Playing With Fire
Ava was waiting for me when I swung by our room the next morning for a change of clothes.
“Mr. Shaw came looking for you last night.”
Oh, crap. Of course he did.
“He’s more worried than mad though, so don’t sabotage this. Science is going to be fun today.”
“And you know this because you talked to him?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Why would I go to the bother of a conversation with someone in such a bad mood?”
“Awesome.”
I hung up my new black dress and caught the look in Ava’s eye. I didn’t say anything, just dug out black jeans and laced my combat boots over the top. A white wife-beater tank with a black v-neck sweater and my long hair tied back in a messy bun, and I was almost ready to face Shaw. Almost. I grabbed Archer’s black leather sport bike coat and threw that on over the top, kind of like armor. Yeah, it was going to be one of those days.
Ava looked meaningfully at the dress, then jumped off the bed and left the room with me. “So, I’m guessing you spent the night in London?”
Not much got by the next-in-line to head the Seer Family. I nodded, swerving to avoid a group of girls coming out of the bathroom. “My mom tried to tell me not to go.”
“So of course you went.”
“Of course.” I smirked. I’d only known Ava for a few months, but she already got me better than almost anyone, except my mom, and maybe Archer.
“I told you Archer didn’t leave you.”
That was just semantics, but I didn’t want to get into a debate with Ava. “We made up. And had kind of a spectacular date.” I tried to kill the smile that threatened to give me away. Couldn’t do it.
“Good. You guys deserve to have fun. And just so you know, it was really hard for him to be away.” I couldn’t tell if that was just friendship talking, or if her Seer sense had kicked in, but I was grateful. Ava grabbed my hand and stopped me before we headed down the big stone staircase to the classroom level of St. Brigid’s.
“I Saw the book last night.”
“What book?” My heart started pounding, and I knew what she was going to say before she said it.
“The genealogy. It’s in a warehouse, somewhere in London I think. Raven’s uncle was reading it.” She closed her eyes and tried to give me something else, but her voice came out in a regretful sigh. “That’s all I know.” As much as I wanted to pump her for more information, I knew it was pointless. They Saw what they Saw, and that was it.
“Hey Elian, are we running before survival class?” Connor was walking with Olivia, and despite the interruption, I was glad to see him looking back to normal.
“Depends how much I get yelled at by Shaw.”
“You mean, he yells, we run?”
“Exactly.”
“Sorry to say, but here’s hoping you get torn a new one.”
Olivia punched Connor in the arm playfully. “Just for that, you can sit on your own at lunch.”
“Oh, come on, Liv. You know I’m just kidding.”
I sneered at him, “If we do run, you’ll need four legs to keep up with me today, Edwards. Oh that’s right, you’ve been holding back because you’re English, and it’s not sporting to run down a girl. Well, this girl’s been kicking your butt.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed a little as Olivia laughed and dragged him away. Good, he’d need that edge if he was going to beat me at free-running.
Some of the tension seeped out from under my armor just before we rounded the corner toward Mr. Shaw’s classroom.
Until I saw the Bear.
Mr. Shaw was guarding the door, making kids sidestep furtively past him into the classroom. He looked growly and unkempt, like a mosquito had tormented him all night, or maybe a Clocker had worried her mother when she spent all night in London with her boyfriend. I plastered on a smile and approached with caution.
“Good morning, Mr. Shaw.”
His voice rumbled in his throat. “Miss Elian. You’ve graced us with your presence.” It wasn’t a question, more like an accusation.
I bristled. When had I ever missed one of his classes? Sometimes they were the only thing worth sticking around for. His eyes glinted, and I could see he was spoiling for a fight, so I took a breath and brightened up the smile. “No place I’d rather be than in a classroom with you.”
My tone had been completely respectful, so he could only hiss cartoon steam from his ears as he closed the door behind us and took his place at the head of the class.
“We’ve entered the astrological sign of Aries, who, apart from being the god of war in Greek mythology, is also symbolized by fire.”
A girl next to me whispered under her breath, “Astrology? Is he kidding?”
I shook my head. I already knew where he was going with this and excitement had started somewhere around my toes. “Fire,” I whispered back.
“Fire,” Mr. Shaw echoed, “is the substance of life. It exists in only the most extraordinary circumstances in nature, and yet without it, humans would be little more than primates.” He looked directly at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Elian, but you will not be in a classroom with me today.”
A sick feeling swept through me. Was I seriously about to get kicked out of class?
“Because we will be working outside as we attempt various ways, physical and chemical, to create fire.”
The relief I felt must have showed on my face because it seemed to put Mr. Shaw in a better mood. “To the gardens. There are tables set up under the shade structure, and you’ll be working in pairs, so partner up.”
Chairs were pushed back and we headed for the door. I had just caught Ava’s eye for the ‘you, me, partner’ nod when Mr. Shaw passed me. “Miss Elian, you’re with me.”
Startled, I mouthed an apologetic ‘sorry’ to Ava. She shrugged, unconcerned, and turned toward Carmen, whose room was next door to ours in the girls’ wing. She’d probably seen it in one of her visions anyway.
“Walk with me, Miss Elian.” Again, there was no question mark in Mr. Shaw’s voice, and no option to do otherwise. I fell into step with him as we made our way out of the building.
“She knew where--.” I felt like I wanted a brick wall at my back and Wolverine claws for hands, and this was going to go badly unless I shifted things. I took a deep breath and tried again. “I didn’t mean to make her cry, and I’m sorry for that. I was with Archer and Bishop Cleary doing research, and I should have checked in with her when I got back so she didn’t worry. It wasn’t considerate and it won’t happen again.”
There. An apology with no promise to reform the offending behavior. It was the best I could do and all I had in me. Mr. Shaw studied my face for a moment.
“You know the chalkboard outside my office? Why don’t you just make a mark or something whenever you go, then another when you get back so you two don’t fight about it, and I can tell her where you are if she asks.”
I had to admit, the Bear could surprise me. “You realize that asking a tagger to make a mark is like giving an alcoholic a drink.” He smirked, and I could feel the armor slip off another notch.
He straightened the collar of my coat with a smile, then narrowed his eyes dangerously. “You stayed in the present?”
I nodded. This time. No one but Archer knew I’d gone back since I brought my mom home.
I could see about ten things the Bear didn’t say flit across his face, but to his credit, he changed the subject. “Let’s go play with fire, shall we?”
The corner of the field where tables had been set up was clear of almost any kind of foliage or flammable substance, and remarkably, for a March day in England, it was sunny and calm. Perfect fire-starting weather.
“Okay, many of you are familiar with the primitive ways of making fire. It’s a skill every hiker, traveler, or adventurer should have in their repertoire, and with the right materials, it only takes determination and a little muscle.”
Mr. Shaw passed out a notched board, a couple of sticks, a bow, and lots of straw tinder to the various groups. Then he demonstrated all the friction methods of fire-starting I’d ever read about or seen Bear Grylls do on TV. The bow drill method had always seemed like it was the most efficient, but Mr. Shaw got fire from all three. Then he set different teams to the task of different friction methods and made it a contest. Ava and Carmen got the bow drill, and he gave me the most primitive way to start a fire: a stick, a knife, and a piece of wood. I’d paid attention when he made his hand drill, especially to the fact that a small piece of dry leaf or bark next to the notch is the best way to carry a tiny spark to the nest of tinder. I was feeling pretty good about being the second one done with a decent-sized flame to show for it, and I could tell it made the Bear happy that I’d managed it on my own.
“Okay, those are the primitive means to fire-making. Another method, requiring slightly more modern tools, involves rubbing the contact points of a battery over steel wool that’s been spread out flat. The sparks on the steel wool can be used to ignite whatever tinder you have available, and it takes much less time to accomplish.”
He ran through a couple other options, like lenses, flint and steel, or even a coke can and chocolate, and then finally looked around at all of us with a grin.
“Of course, chemistry can also produce fire. Who can tell me the ways phosphorus is used?”
A couple of hands went in the air.
“Matches.”
“That’s right. Anyone else?”
“Isn’t there phosphorus in fertilizer?”
“Absolutely. Without phosphorus in the soil, nothing would grow.”
“They use phosphorus in bomb-making.”
Mr. Shaw smiled. “Yes, it’s used in incendiary devices, as evidenced by match heads, and by the use of fertilizer in homemade bomb-making. White phosphorus, the stuff in flash bombs, is among the most unstable explosives ever discovered. Do you know, a German scientist made the first white phosphorus in the 1600s from urine?”
Several groans of disgust came from the class. I loved this stuff.
“He was trying to isolate gold from urine, thinking it caused the yellow color. But the super-concentration and evaporation left him not with gold, but with white phosphorus. In fact, a fairly simple method of achieving the same result uses urine concentrate, charcoal dust, and cinnamon powder.” More groans, but a lot of smiles too. Mr. Shaw definitely knew how to play to the class.
“One would need a distillation system of closed containers and glass tubing, with the urine mix on one side, and a container of water on the other. When the urine mix is boiled, the steam drips into the water and causes a waxy substance to form on the bottom. That’s white phosphorus. Expose the bottle to light and it will glow in the dark for several hours. Expose the substance to air and … BOOM!”
His voice was so loud and unexpected, we all jumped, then burst out laughing.
I raised my hand. “What about gunpowder? They made fireworks with it in ancient China, right?”
He nodded and deadpanned. “I wonder how many British laws I’m breaking by teaching you how to make chemical incendiary devices?” The class laughed. “The ingredients are simple: saltpeter, sulphur and coal. The tricky part is getting the right kinds of ingredients, plus the right mixture for the maximum explosive effect. So, who can tell me where to find saltpeter?”
“At the chemist’s!”
A guy named Niko in the back raised his hand. “It’s in fertilizer.”
“Right, Niko. Potassium nitrate, or saltpeter, is a major component of fertilizer. One of the primary natural sources of it is in caves in the form of bat guano.”
“It’s poop!”
Mr. Shaw deadpanned, “The most explosive things usually are.” When the laughter died down again, he continued. “Have you ever seen the white crust on the dirt of a leach field? That’s also saltpeter. Pretty much any evaporated human or animal waste …” The class groaned and made appropriate puking noises. “… is a source of potassium nitrate.”
While the class got itself under control again, I spoke directly to Mr. Shaw. “So, charcoal comes from burned wood, right?”
He nodded. “The harder the wood, the more ash though, so soft wood is better.”
“Okay, what about sulphur? Where does that come from?”
The class had settled and was listening to our conversation, so Mr. Shaw included them in his answer. “Sulphur is a naturally occurring mineral, most often found around geothermal sites.”
“Like the hot springs at Bath.”
“Exactly. Any geothermal spring that smells like rotten eggs has sulphur in or around it.”
“So what’s the ratio?”
Mr. Shaw looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Planning to make gunpowder any time soon?”
“Nope. Just fascinated.”
He grinned. “Me too. The ratio is approximately six parts charcoal to two parts each saltpeter and sulphur. I think there’s slightly more saltpeter than sulphur in the mix, but there’s usually some slippage due to the quality of the materials.”
In the distance we could hear the end-of-class bell, and my classmates actually groaned.
“We’ll be studying other primitive chemical combinations in the coming weeks. Thanks, everyone.”
He got a round of applause from the group and looked around blinking in surprise. Ava was right, it had been a great class.
“Thanks, Mr. Shaw. That was awesome.” Ava and I helped him clean up the fire-starting supplies and then we walked back to school together.
“There will be a small group of Descendants tonight. Meet in the Solarium after dinner and dress warmly.”
Survival
The Bear surprised me. Ava and I thought we’d figured out who would be in the solarium for the survival class, even including the two Descendant kids I didn’t know, but he pulled out a wildcard. Two wildcards actually. Alexandra Rowan, Adam’s girlfriend, stood off to one side o
f the room, and Mr. Shaw was in a different corner talking to my mother.
Tom came up to Ava and me when we entered the room. “Does Adam know Alex is here?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know, so maybe not.” Ava sounded worried.
I suddenly didn’t want Adam to be blindsided if he wasn’t prepared to see her, so I darted back out of the solarium and down the hall until I ran into him walking with Connor.
“Alex is here,” I blurted. I couldn’t have been less subtle if I’d written it in neon paint. Adam stopped in his tracks, and I could feel Connor’s eyes doing the tennis match back-and-forth between us.
“I’ll see you in there, Arman.” I didn’t think it was a question, but Adam seemed to have to think about it before he nodded at Connor.
“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Connor left quickly, and I waited until his Wolf ears were out of range. “You didn’t know she’d be here?” I took a step closer so he could hear my near-whisper.
He shook his head. “I haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks.”
That shocked me. Despite the fact she had left St. Brigid’s already, I thought they’d been in touch more than that since they got back together at Christmas. “Why not?”
His eyes searched mine for a second before he looked away. “It’s not as easy as…”
My tone got sharp. I couldn’t help it. “As what, Adam? As flirting with me?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I know I almost pushed it too far that day in the woods, but I’m so sick of all the secrets. It doesn’t feel like a real relationship when it’s hidden all the time. Messing with you is safe because you’re here, you bite back, and you’re not interested. I can totally be myself without worrying I’ll say the wrong thing.”
I didn’t expect relief to hit me as hard as it did. “You’re an idiot.”