by Sacha Black
“Seriously. She’s pissed at him because he hid who he really was from her.”
“Did she tell him who she was?”
“Nope. But apparently, that’s not the point.”
“Wow. High maintenance or what,” I say, spotting Trey in the corner handing out a load of papers.
“Which is exactly why they’re made for each other. She’s going to knock him down a peg or two, and I’m going to love watching every minute of it.”
Ten
‘Potential Ceremony – the ceremony in which the name of the most likely candidate fated to be Bound to a Keeper or Fallon, as decreed by the First Fallon, is announced formally.’
From the Dictionary of Balance
‘Misbind - the name for a Binding pair that differs from the Potentials called.’
Excerpt - Myths and Legends of Trutinor
In the few minutes I was outside, the foyer has filled with excited students, most of whom are congregating outside the main lecture hall ready for induction.
I scan the sea of faces, searching for Trey and any classmates from Keepers School. I spot a couple of classmates who smile and wave, but I wasn’t close to them, and they seem engaged in conversation with someone else anyway. The main door creaks open, and Rita Runskall and Trat Riplock walk in. Rita is an Elemental Keeper I’ve known for years. Her mom and dad worked for my parents in the East, and we’ve always been placed in the same class. It reminds me of what Felicia said about the broken Bindings. Rita’s Bound to Trat now, but her Potential Balancer was a Siren called Tiron Galsworthy. During our ceremony, he was Bound to a girl called Eloise. Rita was heartbroken, but she soon recovered when Trat swaggered on stage, all tall, toned, and handsome. It probably helped that he’s from one of The Six families. His father, Obert, is the head of the second most powerful family in the North, which is how Trat was such good friends with Victor.
Rita notices me and smiles, her thick black hair falling over her shoulders. She looks a little pale; our desert skin is usually bronzed, but I guess she’s spent the summer in the freezing mountains. She’s wearing a floor length dress that clings to her body and has sleeves to the elbows. Trat spots her smiling at me, and his face falls, his eyes darkening with a hardness that makes my insides squirm. I murdered his best friend; he was never going to thank me for that.
Rita places her hand on his forearm, her lips moving as though she’s talking, but her eyes don’t reach his. They stay rooted to the floor. I frown, trying to work out why I’m so uncomfortable watching them. Then Rita lets go and steps toward me. Trat grabs her wrist, and she jolts to a stop.
He leans into her ear whispering, and as he does, I swear she flinches.
My fist balls, and in the palm of my hand a spark of static pulses, threatening to erupt into lightning. Bo’s hand reaches for my arm. “You can’t,” she says, holding me back. “They’re Bound now; it’s for her to deal with.”
“What if he’s…”
“You can’t intervene. Not in here anyway. The Riplocks have an unhealthy relationship with their public appearance. If he thinks you suspect something is off and he’s as much of an asshole as I think he is, it will only make it worse for her.”
Rita’s eyes meet mine, all round and full of tension. She shakes her head at me. I nod, accepting her request even though it pains me not to help her. Instead, I pull out my CogTracker and type out a message. Whatever’s going on, she’s not happy, and I want her to know I’m there if she needs help.
Bo points at the back of the foyer to the set of large oak doors nestled in the wall that Trey and I directed the students to.
We creep into the huge lecture hall and sit in one of the furthest rows back. Down at the front is a stage with a lectern lit by a spotlight ready for the head of the academy to welcome us.
We sit in the comfy royal green and maroon seats and wait. I pull out my CogTracker and flick through the reams of CogMails from Nyx: decisions on funding allocations, new skyscraper bridges, civil war discussions and last, a video message. I pop a headphone in and play it.
Her pale face and thick black spiky hair appear on my screen grinning at me. But the smile disappears as soon as she starts talking. Instead, the birthmark on her cheek darts around her expression the more animated she gets.
“Eden, sweetheart. I love you dearly; you know that. But you have duties here. I know the academy will have you run ragged and there’s only one of you, but seriously, I’ve got mounting piles of paperwork that need dealing with. You’ve got public appearances to book, and that’s without the East State Council meetings. Have you thought any more about that long weekend?”
She sighs, her expression softening. I pull the CogTracker closer; her birthmark seems even darker than last time. It must be the video. Then she starts talking again.
“Listen. I know you’ve struggled to be in the East since your parents… What I mean, is that I understand. But, honey, you have responsibilities. You can’t avoid them forever. I miss you. I love you. Tell Titus when he can come and get you. Please come home. Even if it’s just for the weekend.”
She blows a kiss at the screen, her eyes welling as the screen goes blank. I pull the headphone out and slump in my seat. She’s right. I have avoided going home. But only because it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Not without my parents. Even though I know my home tower will be a hive of Keepers and Elementals bustling in an out, busying each other and me, I still can’t stand the thought of walking in there because no matter how full it is, to me, it will always be empty.
“You still getting those dreams?” Bo says, jolting me out of my thoughts. She takes out her CogTracker and messages Kato our location.
“Every night. It’s probably nothing,” I say, “left over trauma from the summer.” But my stomach twists in disagreement.
“What was last night’s dream?”
“Do we have to do this now?”
“Eden. I’m serious,” she barks a little too sharp. “You shouldn’t ignore them.”
I look at her, scanning her face. That’s the second time she’s been off with me. “You’ll be pleased to know I didn’t have one last night.”
She frowns as she looks at me, her porcelain complexion crumpling, “Actually, no. That’s even more of a concern. You’ve had them consistently. So what changed?”
I was in a blood-drugged state and totally high on power?
“I was probably just exhausted,” I say, “but fear not, Trey is making me see a dream Keeper.”
Trey and Kato drop into the seats next to us. “Yes, I am,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and placing a kiss on my lips. “Everything okay now?” he whispers.
I close my mouth and nod. Bo is right, the dresses probably are nothing, and I shouldn’t read too much into it.
A professor walks on stage, positioning himself behind the lectern, ending our conversation. He’s average height but appears taller because of his slender stature and plain beige suit; unusual attire for an Elemental. We’re outside so often, we’re more suited to fatigues and flexible clothing. His eyes are orange, like his hair, but his mustache is the same deep brown as his skin. As his face changes expression, it wriggles out of time, as if it’s not quite attached to his upper lip. My guess is a fire Elemental.
He taps the microphone on the lectern, but nothing happens. He presses a button and a screech echoes around the lecture hall causing half the audience to clap their hands to their ears. When the echo dies, he speaks.
“Welcome, Keepers, Fallons, and friends from other realms, it is truly an honor to welcome you to Stratera Academy, where we strive for the knowledge to help us judge the fate of others. For those of you that don’t know, my name is Professor Cuthberg; I’m the Director of Academic Studies and Performance here at the academy. I’ll keep it brief for now; I know that today is overwhelming and the second years are ready and waiting in the foyer to give you tours of the campus. A few quick notices. The library and the training towers are open twenty-four ho
urs a day, but private study rooms shut at 10PM sharp. There will be a formal Christmas ball, and the tickets will go on sale next week. The canteen opens for breakfast at 6AM, lunch at twelve and dinner at 6PM. Classes start officially tomorrow. And last, I’d like to formally welcome our head boy and girl. They are your student representatives to the academy’s senior board and will have the ability to deal with any pastoral issues you might have. Where are Fallons Luchelli and East?” he says, squinting into the rows of seating.
I glance at Trey; he looks as impressed as I feel. The position of head girl and head boy is automatically given to the highest scoring students at Keepers School. I came top of my class, but Victor didn’t pass. Something that caused more than a little controversy, especially when Trey was given the role of head boy. My insides squirm, but if I don’t stand up I know someone will point us out, so, reluctantly, I stand and pull Trey up. “Here, Professor.”
“Lovely, lovely,” he says, nodding his head with such vigor I swear the mustache will fall off his face. He wafts his hand at us, which I take as a gesture to introduce ourselves, so I nudge Trey.
“Good morning, fellow classmates,” he says, sounding super formal. My mouth twitches as I suppress a grin.
“I’m Fallon Luchelli, Siren Fallon of the South. I’m majoring in Siren studies and Council politics, with a minor in Elemental studies. And this,” he says, inching out of the way to nudge me forward, “is my Balancer and head girl, Fallon East.”
I shuffle forward, noticing a sea of eager faces looking at me. “Hi, I’m Eden East, majoring in Elemental studies and defense of the Balance with a minor in Siren studies and because I’m a glutton for punishment, another minor in Council politics. We’re your head boy and girl, so umm…I guess if anyone has any academic or pastoral issues you can find us in the penthouse dorm across the street, or we will pin our CogTracker details to the notice board in the foyer.”
“Lovely, lovely,” Cuthberg says, “does anyone have a question or comment for our head boy and girl now?”
A dozen hands scattered across the lecture hall shoot up. I know before the professor even asks them, that the questions are about Victor. I glare at the professor, wishing I had psychic abilities.
“You.” He points to a boy in a middle row who’s wearing a maroon waistcoat and matching glasses.
The boy coughs and glances to his friends who are all flashing surreptitious glances between themselves. My jaw tightens in anticipation. Trey slips his hand into mine, and a warm silky throb fires from his palm into my forearm, and my jaw relaxes. The boy sits up a little, the question I’m dreading forming on his lips.
“So is Victor really back from the dead or was that network takeover a sick joke?”
And there it is. I smile as sweetly as I can and say, “Does anyone have a question not related to Victor?”
The rest of the hands drop.
“Then I think we’re done for now, Professor?”
“Indeed. Lovely,” the professor says with the same virulent nodding as before. “Thank you, everyone, enjoy your tours and welcome, once again, to Stratera Academy.”
Eleven
‘If one were to gather magics with sufficient potency, the stripping of one’s essence is theoretically possible, postulated Professor Linus in 1507.’
From the History of Forbidden and Lost Magic
A day into Stratera, and I already have my least favorite day. Tuesday lectures drag until late afternoon, mostly because it’s the only day I’m not in any classes with Trey, Bo, or Kato. I enter the academy foyer after a double class of history of the elements in which Professor Cuthberg talked at excruciating lengths about the creation of the earth and water elements and the detailed workings of their chemical alchemy.
I head to the right-hand practice tower; I’ve been looking forward to my next class all day: advanced defense. It’s also run by two family friends. I exit the foyer and take the corridor that leads up to the practice towers.
“Eden, hold up. We got to go,” Kato says, rushing down the hall to meet me.
“Go? Where? It’s my first advanced defense class. I’ve sat through a painful day of lessons; I’m not missing the best class of the week. The only place I’m going is up that tower and into the fighting ring.”
His eyes flick over my shoulder to the practice tower door. The wrought iron gate rises ten feet up. Snaking through the black metal are the five State symbols: North, South, East, West, and Ancient Forest. Behind the gate are my twin tutors: Archie and Arna Frothburn, fire and water Elemental Keepers that used to sit on my parents’ East State Council, and they don’t look impressed. They’re both tall and thin, their bodies equally toned from practical work. Archie’s skin is darker than Arna’s; his cheeks blaze red like the fire he controls. Arna is a water Elemental; her skin is paler, with a strange blue hue like she’s gotten too cold in the snow. They’re young but highly skilled, which is why they rose through the ranks of my parents’ State Council. Mom and Dad were fond of the twins and when they died, the twins took over a lot of their duties with Nyx. I’ve been getting it in the ear from them about returning home too.
Archie rubs his forehead; his hand is striated with burn-scars from the constant use of fire magic.
“Are you coming?” Arna says.
“Can’t it wait?” I say to Kato, glancing between him and the twins.
“Not really,” he says, pulling a face. He mouths, “Libra,” at me.
No then. I close my eyes, frustrated with myself for forgetting. I hesitate; all three of them are wearing unimpressed expressions. Either way, I can’t win.
“I’m sorry,” I say, looking back at the twins, “I promise I will make up for it. Extra classes, double coursework, whatever you need.”
Archie doesn’t say a word; he glares at me then stalks up the tower stairs.
“Eden, head girls need to set the standard. You can’t miss classes even if you’re ahead of the workload,” Arna says.
“I’ll catch up on practice, I prom…” I start, but she too, walks off up the stairs and out of sight.
“Bit harsh,” Kato says, “are they always like that?”
“Yes… well, no,” I say, rubbing my face, already tired at the thought of how long the day is going to be. “They were close to my parents. I guess they think they’re looking out for me. I totally forgot about the Libra meet. I’ll just have to come back for practice after. You in?”
“No chance. I’m going to be studying Bo very closely this evening,” he says, winking at me.
“There is a line, you know. Ever heard of social boundaries?”
“Is that a nightclub?” he says, smirking.
“I’m not even going to justify that with a response.”
With a final longing look at the iron gates, we exit the tower corridor, enter the main foyer, and make our way to the entrance as Trey appears. His hair is pulled back into a loose knot, showing off his freshly trimmed stubble. It makes butterflies flutter around my stomach. When his hair is pulled back like that his blue eyes seem even bluer. He’s wearing skinny maroon jeans and a plain white top, with short sleeves. He said he wasn’t going to wear a vest for a while until he’d found a way to tell Kato what happened to him. I’m only disappointed I don’t get to stare at his muscles all day. Although the top he’s chosen is skin tight, so it’s not all bad.
“This is just an initial meet and greet, is that right?”
Kato nods.
“Okay, how are we getting to Luna City?” I ask.
“Ah, well, the uglier Luchelli here,” Kato says, looking at Trey, “brought our train.”
“Watch who you’re calling ugly, runt,” Trey says, slapping Kato upside the head.
“Children, please,” I say, smiling and wrapping my arms around Trey’s waist. He picks me up and twirls me around as I kiss him.
“I missed you,” he says, “advanced Siren studies was beyond dull. Are you ready to go?”
“I am, but I’ve got
to come back and catch up with study. The twins are less than pleased with me for missing their first class.”
“Your defense tutors?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning into his chest and sniffing his aftershave: frankincense, but today, instead of summer, he smells of spice.
“So,” he says, pulling my chin up so he can kiss me again. “What you’re saying,” more kisses, “is that you’re going to come back for late night studying in the hot sweaty fighting ring?” He leans into my neck and nips my skin in several spots, making me giggle, and Kato looks mortified.
“Guys. Boundaries. We’re in public,” he says, imitating my voice.
“Sounds like something I ought to study with you,” Trey says, ignoring his brother, “you know, just for safety.”
I look up at him, the grin spreading to my eyes. “For safety purposes, I agree, that would be most appropriate.” I smile and kiss him again. I’ll never get bored of kissing him.
“Come on,” I say, “before we’re late. Where’s Bo?”
“She finished class early,” he says, “she’s already on the train.”
I wonder why she didn’t come and meet us but figure it’s nothing to worry about. The train ride is fast, a little under an hour because Magnus, Trey’s Steampunk Transporter, uses a private line instead of the busy South to West commuter rail line. The private line skims the coast the entire way to Luna City rather than winding inland and stopping at all the border towns on route.
Using this line also means we get a gorgeous view of the costal sunset over dinner. Trey dishes out the noodles and veg that Magnus must have picked up somewhere before we got on the train.
As the sun dips lower in the sky, it throws intense pinks and reds over the horizon. This is my favorite time of day in the West. The ocean glistens as if its surface is a blanket of sparking embers. In the distance, a fin, followed by a tentacle, rises out of the water and disappears again. Then there’s an explosion of frothing and spitting water. Something that looks like it used to be a fin flies out of the water, detached from its previous owner, and splashes back down sinking into the murky red depths. I swallow down the mouthful of food I just ate, hearing Father’s words echo through my mind, “It’s called the Blood Ocean for a reason, Eden. Don’t ever get complacent; the most beautiful things are usually the deadliest.”