by Betsy Flak
“We do not say ‘um’ here, Miss…” The woman selected a single sheet from a crisp ivory stack. “Miss Lee. Eversfield students and alumni always know what they will say prior to speaking.”
Lila’s cheeks burned at the admonishment. She racked her brain for all the formal-ish words she’d ever heard. Her supply was inadequate, to say the least. “I’m…I’m sorry. M-ma’am.”
The secretary’s flinty gaze remained wary. “I am Ms. Pershing, Headmaster Flynn’s and Eversfield’s primary administrative assistant.” Ms. Pershing stood, smoothed her pristine lace blouse, and offered Lila a hand with short shiny nails.
Lila grasped it and shook. Thoughts raced around and around her mind. Was she holding Ms. Pershing’s hand too tight? Shaking it too fast? Had it been long enough to let go? “And I’m Lila, er, Delilah Lee. But I guess you already know that.”
Ms. Pershing released Lila’s hand. “Yes, Miss Lee, I thank you for your timely arrival. You may take a seat while I finish this task. I will then conduct an abbreviated orientation since you were unable to join our freshmen earlier this week.”
Lila bit into her lower lip. Since Eversfield had only accepted her yesterday—giving her less than twenty-four hours to say goodbye to her home, let alone pack and prepare—there was no way for her to “join the freshmen earlier this week.” Based on the hawklike eyes boring into her, that was not a valid excuse.
“I understand. Thank you…Ma’am.” Lila flinched as she awaited another reprimand, but Ms. Pershing returned to her work, leaving Lila more or less alone. As much as she longed to crumple into one of those bowl-shaped chairs in the waiting area, Lila first set her bags next to a potted palm stretching toward the polished ceiling. Quiet as a mouse, she arranged her luggage into a neat pyramid with the suitcase on the bottom, followed by her duffel bag, then her backpack on its side. After balancing her messenger bag on top, Lila collapsed into the closest chair.
“Miss Lee, you may stow your luggage in the far corner by the umbrella tree.” Ms. Pershing gestured to the corner opposite where Lila had already stashed her gear.
Lila swallowed a sigh. Apparently, one placed luggage next to specific types of rainforest plants and not next to others. While Ms. Pershing click-clacked away, Lila moved the bags across the room.
Although it was a small change, it crushed Lila’s pea-sized confidence. Retreating to her chair, Lila tiptoed along a pit of despair. How was she going to get used to all this formality? She’d been an Eversfield student for five whole minutes, and already she didn’t fit in. This had to be her most horrible idea yet.
Then again, what was the alternative? Go to the same lonely school, pretend that nothing was wrong while she watched her family crumble into bits and pieces, into shards and shrapnel? No, she hadn’t had many choices. And Val had been so understanding, so willing to jump through any hoops needed. Lila would simply have to make the most of it. Everything would be…fine. She would adapt. She would survive. This was just a snippet of discomfort to be endured.
Her spine held rigid and straight, Lila counted the leaves of the potted palm across from her. Even with that distraction, she couldn’t help wishing she was somewhere else, anywhere else—except, of course, for her parents’ hotel room.
After several minutes, Ms. Pershing glanced at Lila over her frameless glasses. “Okay, Miss Lee, I’m ready for you.” With shocking speed, Ms. Pershing spun around to select a shiny Eversfield-navy folder from the desktop behind her. By the time Lila reached the chest-high counter, Ms. Pershing already stood. The open folder faced Lila. “First, here is another map of our campus. I noticed yours has…seen better days.”
Lila flushed. Her fingers rubbed against the bulge in her pants pocket where she’d shoved the map earlier.
“I took the liberty of highlighting your house, Miss Lee. You’ll be in room 302 of Elizabeth Blackwell. Your roommate is Miss Marina Lazare. Of course, we won’t have a…class…schedule…For goodness’ sake, Miss Baker, just come in. All that pacing is giving me a headache.”
A whirlwind by the name of Valerie Elizabeth Baker swept into the office. With every hop, skip, and jump, Val’s high-waisted skirt swished around her bare thighs. Neither her striped tank nor her pixie cut—straight out of Roman Holiday—dared to move. Beneath defined brows, Val’s catlike eyes gleamed with mischief.
Although joy radiated off her best friend, Lila’s stomach sank. If only she’d known uniforms weren’t required today, she could be in shorts and a T-shirt, instead of her stupid khakis and wrinkled blouse.
“Lila, Lila, Lila! I’m so happy, happy, happy that you’re here!” Undeterred by their five-inch height difference, Val encompassed Lila in a rib-cracking hug. Her breath tickling from Lila’s neck, she whispered, “You okay, kid?”
Lila nodded. Not even the stupid uniform mistake could block Val’s bliss from cheering her up a smidge.
With a sunbeam of a smile, Val danced up to Ms. Pershing’s lustrous desk. Balancing on the tips of her toes, Val rested her forearms on the chest-high counter and peered over it. “Well, Ms. Pershing, whatcha got for my dear friend Lila here? You wanna just hand it over, so we can start the real orientation?”
Val winked at Lila, then leaned over the countertop. She bobbed up and down, her heels kissing the floor with each bounce. Her nimble fingers poked and prodded the forbidden desk area.
Ms. Pershing swatted at them, but her slate gray eyes crinkled and her thin lips twitched toward a smile. She was the latest in a long line of Val-worshippers. And who could blame them? Val was the embodiment of a sunny day, one that infected anyone and everyone near her.
Ms. Pershing sighed. “First, Miss Baker, you know perfectly well that an Eversfield woman—”
“Yes, yes, I know. I hafta speak properly. But can’t you see that I’m just so excited that my dear friend Lila is finally here?”
“Miss Baker, you know there are certain items I need to cover with Miss Lee—”
“And you know that I can cover those nearly as well as you. And I know that you are a busy woman, one whose talents go largely unappreciated at this school.”
“Miss Baker, flattery will get you—”
“Everywhere?” Val interrupted, adding another wink. Then she widened her eyes and begged, “Oh please, oh pretty please, Ms. Pershing? Lila is my dearest friend in the whole wide world and I cannot bear to spend another minute without her running by my side!”
“Well, I suppose—”
“Wonderful! Lila, let’s get your bags. Or actually, we should leave them here. I’m sure Ms. Pershing won’t mind. And let me see where your room is. I hope we’re in the same house! I mean, we should be, but you never know what—”
“Miss Lee.” That hawklike gaze of Ms. Pershing’s glued itself to Lila.
She shriveled beneath it. “Um, yes?”
“Miss Lee, since your dearest friend in the whole wide world is prepared to give you a complete,” Ms. Pershing cast a pointed look at Val, who put on her best “I’m so trustworthy and innocent” face, “albeit colorful orientation, I will entrust it to her. But please, if you have any questions at all, do not hesitate to come to the office. And remember, your placement tests are on Monday. You’re to arrive here at the main office promptly at eight a.m.”
After separating a taupe envelope the size of an index card, Ms. Pershing handed the glossy folder to Val. She offered the envelope to Lila. “This, Miss Lee, contains your keycard. Do not lose it. It serves as your room key and provides all-hour access to Elizabeth Blackwell. It also provides access to the cafeteria, computer lab, and library during restricted hours and contains your meal plan, all of which Miss Baker can and will explain. Like I said, if you have any questions later, feel free to return to this office. Also, the uniforms you ordered wait in your room. If anything is missing, please let me know as soon as possible. You’re dismissed.”
Lila turned to fetch her backpack.
Val’s hand cau
ght her forearm and held Lila back. Val mouthed “just a sec,” then approached Ms. Pershing’s desk. “Ah, oh, Ms. Pershing?”
A charcoal eyebrow arched. Ms. Pershing’s patience—even for the lovely Miss Baker—was failing.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but just one teensy favor if you don’t mind. See, Lila here, she doesn’t like her full name. Never has. I don’t know why, Delilah is a perfectly lovely name.”
Ms. Pershing continued her impassive glare.
Val fluffed her short locks with both hands. “Right, to the point, anywho, could you make sure to change ‘Delilah’ to ‘Lila’ on all Miss Lee’s paperwork? And make sure the teachers all know to call her Lila from the start?”
“Miss Baker, that would be against protocol.”
Below the high counter, Val nudged Lila in the ribs. Her chocolate eyes never left Ms. Pershing.
Oh, right, time to look pathetic. Lila put on her best sad puppy face with big eyes and pouty lips.
“But…I suppose I can make yet one more exception in this case. Now please, leave me to my work.” Ms. Pershing waved them away.
“Thank you, Ms. Pershing!” Val sang.
Lila croaked, “Yeah, thank you.”
As they exited the office, Val skipped with glee. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. I mean, I know the situation that brought you here is just plain awful. But you’re here! You’re actually here! And I am so, so, so very happy.” Val grinned up at Lila.
Lila reflected it. To her surprise, it felt almost natural. It turned out that Val’s eternal sunshine could melt any ice, even that which had accumulated over several months. It was a welcome change.
Chapter 2
Gabe
With a bead of sweat trickling down his spine, Gabe hurried along the path of woodchips through the forest. Not even eleven in the morning and humidity already thickened the air.
When the trail bent to the left, Gabe turned right. His feet sunk into the thick groundcover, swishing through leafy vines and snapping fallen twigs. In the daylight, there was no need for stealth.
As Gabe neared their clearing in the woods, something moved between the tree trunks. His pale eyes narrowed. About fifty feet away, tendrils of inky hair whipped in the wind like Medusa’s snakes.
Gabe smothered a frown. That breeze had come out of nowhere. Not nowhere, he corrected himself, from my sister.
Crouching into a predatory stance, Gabe snuck through the trees toward her. One foot nestled into the underbrush, then the other. This time, he avoided those twigs and vines, moving through the noisy forest without a sound as only a Warrior could. Well, as only a Warrior and those they’d hunted for centuries—those soulless beasts called the Indestructible—could.
Gabe swallowed a sigh. Supposedly, the first Clan Warrior and Diviner had been conceived the moment the first member of the Indestructible had been created as a sort of magical balance to the world. The Warrior twin developed superhuman powers with superior strength, speed, and agility combining with a burning drive to kill the Indestructible. The Diviner supported his or her twin—the gender changed depending on the story—by wielding first Elemental magic and later the less-defined Spirit magic that could heal or create more complicated spells or see the future.
Gabe shut down those folktales from his childhood. He didn’t need to think about Portency right now. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t exist. And besides, did it matter if it did? That ancient Diviner’s Portency hadn’t stopped either twin from dying to the Indestructible. Of course, both the Diviner and the Warrior had managed to live long enough to start families, thus passing down the curse of hunting the Indestructible—of dying to the Indestructible—through the centuries, right to him and Marina.
Steps away from his sister’s turned back, Gabe hunched behind a shrub with pointy leaves. Locks of Marina’s blue-black hair twisted in the wind that whirled around her. Her arms stretched out to either side. Even her fingers were outspread.
Marina rose onto the balls of her feet. Her fingertips twitched upward.
Marina’s toes left the ground. The wind—her wind—lifted her up one inch, then two, then three.
That was enough. “Ahem,” Gabe cleared his throat and stood, rising from behind the screen of bushes.
Marina’s breeze died. Her feet slammed into the ground. Her arms fell to her sides.
A head snapped up from a figure sprawled out in the weeds. Its russet eyes found Gabe. Lex. Of course.
With her back still to Gabe, Marina’s hands dug into her waist. One hip jutted out. “Lex, you were supposed to keep watch!”
Her cropped curls even wilder than usual, Lex leaned back on the heels of her hands. Her feet swayed in the violets lacing the ground. “Mar, it’s just Gabe. It’s not like he doesn’t know all the gory details already. ‘Sides, y’ know I had no hope of spottin’ him or hearin’ him unless he wanted t’ be spotted or heard.”
“Still…” Marina’s voice trailed off as she turned around to face Gabe.
He wasted no time. “Marina, you really should be more careful—”
“I had Lex on lookout! And I came all the way out here, to our spot. Plus it’s early. The likelihood—”
“Still, Marina. If anyone but me had found you just now—”
Marina rolled eyes as dark as the ocean’s depths. “Only members of our Cell come all the way out here.”
“And do you want our entire Cell to know? Our entire Cell who is due to arrive here in fifteen minutes?”
The toe of Marina’s sneaker dug into the tangled vines. “No.”
“Because you know what’ll happen if they find out. Someone will spill to someone else until the Bureau finds out that you can work with Wind and Earth in addition to Water. Between that and your Spirit Diviner affinities, Marina—”
“I know, Gabe, okay? I’ll get carted off to headquarters for ‘training,’ but it’ll really be all kinds of tests to figure out why I have more powers than any other Diviner for at least a hundred and fifty years, possibly ever. Then they’ll never let me go to college, let alone have a career outside the Clan. I know.”
Gabe arched an eyebrow at his little sister. “If you know, then you know to be more careful.”
“I have to practice with my new talents if I’m going to control them, Gabe.”
He snorted. “You were not practicing there.”
A warm flush blossomed over Marina’s cheeks.
Gabe’s guts tied themselves into knots. Of course Marina had come out here to use her powers to hide from this day. He should have guessed that before now.
Better late than never. Pushing through the screen of shrubs, Gabe crossed the distance between them. He grasped Marina’s shoulders, then ducked down to eye-level. “It’s going to be fine, Marina. I’m sure the new roommate is nothing like Tasha.”
“You don’t know that.” Marina’s voice came out muddied, like she held back tears.
“Of course I do.”
“Lex found those pictures, remember? She’s friends with the same people Natasha was.”
“With one of those same people, not all of them.”
Marina crossed her arms and looked away. “Not yet.”
Gabe set his jaw. Marina would not repeat one ounce of the horrors of last year, not on his watch. “Marina, even if she is another Tasha, it’s not going to happen again. We won’t let it. First, if it does start again—even a whiff of it—you’re going to tell me immediately this time. Secondly, Lex and I are going to be with you when you meet her. We’ll lay down the law, let her know that you’re not alone, that you will not be a target again. Right, Lex?”
“Righto, Daddy-o.”
Gabe squashed a sigh of exasperation. “Lex, how many times in these past two weeks have I told you not to call me that?”
Lex’s ginger brows furrowed. She pretended to count on outstretched fingers. “Hmmm, I would say…eight, nine? Actually, no, I think we just hit
double digits!”
“Wonderful.” As Gabe shifted back to Marina, his pale gaze shot downward. Marina’s fingers massaged her right wrist. She’d broken it last spring when she’d fallen while retrieving the underwear Tasha had thrown into the tree outside their bedroom window. That day, Gabe had found out that Tasha and her friends had been harassing Marina. That day, Gabe had put a stop to it despite Marina’s protests.
Marina dropped her wrist and pressed her palms into her bare thighs.
“It’s going to be fine. I won’t let her hurt you, no matter who she is.” A hint of a growl—of the predator lurking beneath Gabe’s student façade—traced his words.
Marina nodded, although the corners of her mouth twitched downward.
Gabe wrapped his arm around Marina’s shoulders, opting for optimism while he plotted protecting his sister from her new roommate. “Look, I’ve gotta do this Cell meeting first, but how about you, me, and Lex head over to your room afterwards? We can meet the new roommate, check things out…” Intimidate her.
“Sure.” Marina’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Ever the energetic puppy, Lex bounded up to them. “You wanna practice puttin’ out my fires while we wait for the others, Mar? Even Gabe can’t object to that.”
“Yeah, sure.” Pausing on the outskirts of their Cell’s ragged clearing in the forest, Marina peeked up at Gabe. “If you don’t mind.”
“’Course not. Just—”
“Be careful, we know. Geez, Gabe, don’t be such a worrywart!” Lex skipped ahead to pick up a fallen twig. Not even a second later, a flame danced over the opposite end. Like the few Fire Diviners Gabe had known, Lex had nothing but enthusiasm for her craft and for killing the Indestructible. Unlike Marina and Gabe, she looked forward to her Cell assignment after high school. Which was good since Fire Diviners—like Warriors—seldom got to choose between life in a Cell and life as a civilian.
Lex held the branch toward Marina, fiery end first.
After extending her hands around the flames, Marina inched them closer together. A foggy substance between her palms grew more and more dense. Her hands hovered around the fire for a moment. In one fluid movement, Marina clapped them together.