RWBY YA Novel #3

by E. C. Myers

  “I didn’t think Torchwick had a Semblance,” one of the Spiders said.

  “Would be just like him to keep that under his hat.”

  Roman felt the top of his head. His hat was gone. The girl was looking Roman up and down, like she was trying to memorize every detail.

  “Who are you? Is this—” He gestured at the wall.

  She put a finger to her lips. She leaned her head toward the alleyway and cupped her hand around one ear. Listen.

  Roman listened.

  “There he is! He’s getting away!”

  Footsteps pounded back the way they’d come. Just then the fake brick wall disintegrated and disappeared.

  Roman reached a hand out tentatively. The wall, which had just been solid a moment ago, was completely gone as if it had never been there.

  “After him!” Melanie shrieked. A Spider car raced past the alley entrance with a squeal of tires.

  “Get Torchwick!”

  He snuck up to the edge of the alley and peered around the corner. The street was empty now except for the broken glass from the club window, and his hat—crushed in a tire track.

  They’ll pay for that, he thought.

  He heard gunshots and looked down the road. The Spider cars were speeding down the street and gang members were shooting at—

  Him. The running figure was far away, but it was dressed like him, right down to his cane.

  He looked back at the girl who had saved his life. She was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, breathing fast. He didn’t know how, but she was generating that duplicate Roman and leading them away. And it seemed like she wouldn’t be able to keep the deception up forever.

  Her eyes flew open and she looked right at him. She looked tired and afraid. She made a shooing motion with her hand.

  Run.

  Roman bowed to her and hurried away in the opposite direction.

  He would live to die another day, but he was irritated. He didn’t like owing anyone anything, especially not his life. He had to find out the identity of the stranger who had saved him. And he had an idea of how to find her.

  When Trivia woke up, she wasn’t quite sure if she had only dreamed about the night before or if it had really happened. She’d been so drained from creating two illusions at once, the wall being the largest she had ever attempted, and the duplicate of Torchwick the first she’d ever sustained long distance. She was sure she had left his attackers even more confused when he ultimately faded away before their eyes, she thought with a grin.

  Torchwick. She had no idea who he was, or why she’d saved him. Maybe it was just because he had seemed so confident—arrogant even—despite being outmatched and outnumbered. Except for that one moment, when he was down and doubt flickered over his face for just a split second, replaced almost immediately by determination. Fair bet he was planning to go down fighting.

  He was used to pretending and hiding his true self behind that hat and suit and ponytail. She knew what that was like.

  Trivia yawned and stretched and opened her eyes. For the first time in months, she wasn’t dreading the day. Now that she knew that the Malachite girls were up to something, she couldn’t wait to find out their secret.

  She glanced at her alarm clock and jumped out of bed.

  I’m late!

  She was also still dressed in her uniform, since she had snuck back in late and collapsed into bed. So she grabbed her bag and ran. She slowed down only when she reached the classroom so she could walk in calmly as though she’d planned to be late.

  Everyone turned to look at her. Several girls gasped and stared.

  What? Trivia looked around a little perplexed. It wasn’t that shocking that she was so late.

  “What did she do to her uniform?” some of the girls whispered.

  Oh, that. Trivia had forgotten that she’d modified her uniform after Melanie and Miltia’s little prank. She spotted them in their usual seats at the back of the room. They looked as tired as she felt, and annoyed—they were probably not too pleased that Torchwick had slipped through their fingers. But they didn’t know it was because of Trivia. Trivia winked at them, and they looked at each other in surprise.

  “What did she do to her hair?” another girl said.

  Trivia reached up and felt her hair, worried someone had cut it in her sleep. Another bully had tried that shortly after Trivia had arrived at the school, but Trivia had woken up just in time, grabbed the shears, and slashed the girl’s cheek with them. The other girls started making fun of her, calling her Scarface, and she hadn’t bothered Trivia again.

  Trivia’s hair was all there, but when she tugged on it, she noticed that the right side was pink again. This time, her Semblance had done it unconsciously once her Aura had recovered enough. She smiled.

  Lady Beat clapped her hands. “That’s enough, girls. Trivia, thank you for joining us. You’re late. Please see me after class. Now take your seat.”

  Trivia nodded and hurried to her desk.

  Today’s class was diction, which normally Trivia found excruciating, but Lady Beat wouldn’t allow her to sit it out. She said it would do her good to follow along with the other girls, anyway, in case she was able to speak one day, or could communicate by mouthing the words. She also made Trivia use the voice synthesis on her Scroll when it was her turn, which just seemed unnecessarily cruel.

  But that gave Trivia an excuse to use her Scroll in class, which was normally off-limits. First she used the selfie camera to get a look at her hair.

  It seemed Neopolitan was here to stay. She had tried to summon her friend many times since the night of the fire, but after seeing her mother shatter her like that she just couldn’t make her appear—until now. She had realized that Neo was really just another aspect of herself, but this made it feel, well … real. She twirled a finger around a lock of pink hair.

  She caught Melanie watching her. She pulled down her eyelid and stuck out her tongue.

  “Melanie,” Lady Beat said.

  Melanie looked surprised, then she recited from the text on her Scroll, “The gruesome Grimm grew greedy. Get that greedy gruesome Grimm, Gregory. Go, Gregory, go. The greedy gruesome Grimm gored Gregory. Good-bye, Gregory, good-bye. The gory, greedy Grimm gave a gruesome grin.”

  Trivia smiled and went back to her own Scroll. She started by looking up Torchwick. She hadn’t expected to find much, but his picture showed up immediately along with a number of articles and video clips. Roman Torchwick.

  A bank robber? Trivia thought excitedly. I rescued a bank robber.

  Every article said the same thing about him: “Armed and dangerous.” “Unstable.” “Violent.”

  People have said worse about me, Trivia thought. But no one had seen him like she had, afraid and vulnerable.

  There was a reward out for any tips that led to his arrest in Vale. There was also a bounty on his head in the Kingdom of Mistral, posted on all the Huntsmen job boards.

  Trivia started to search for “spiders” and “Malachite” when a shadow appeared on her screen and Lady Beat said, “Trivia.”

  Trivia quickly swiped away from the search engine, accidentally pressing Play on her voice app. It blasted the last line she had typed, “Aren’t you going to punish them?”

  She glanced at Melanie and Miltia while giggles broke out. The twins narrowed their eyes at her.

  Lady Beat put her hand on Trivia’s shoulder and squeezed. “After class,” she reminded her.

  Trivia swallowed. Had Lady Beat seen Torchwick’s picture on her screen? Trivia felt oddly embarrassed, but she didn’t know why. He was currently public enemy number one, so it would make sense for him to come across her news feeds—only she preferred reading fiction to the news. Which was why she’d never heard of him before.

  If she had recognized Torchwick, would she have still saved him?

  Of course. It was enough that Melanie and Miltia were interested in him. And that made Trivia interested in them. According to her search, their mother o
wned a tavern in lower Mistral, but given the conversation from last night, she gathered that wasn’t the extent of her entrepreneurship. Torchwick had seemed surprised to find them in Vale. They knew each other, so the Malachite girls were probably criminals, too. If they were in Vale, they were up to something—and she was willing to bet Lady Browning’s Preparatory Academy for Girls was somehow involved.

  At the end of class, Trivia waited for the rest of the students to file out, which they did very slowly because they all wanted to see what kind of trouble she was in.

  “Close the door and come here, Ms. Vanille,” Lady Beat said.

  Trivia followed her orders and stood in front of Lady Beat’s desk. The woman steepled her fingers and looked her over.

  “You’ve changed. And I’m not referring to your new hairstyle or your suit, although, obviously.” Lady Beat rose and walked around Trivia. “You look good. Contrary to popular belief, the clothes do not make the woman. But they can reveal so much about a person. Do you know why we have a uniform at this school?”

  Trivia shook her head.

  “You say no, but your face says otherwise. Go on, you can type it if you must.”

  Trivia typed out her answer. Before she could play it aloud on her Scroll, Lady Beat looked over her shoulder and read it aloud: “To discourage individualism.

  “I can see why you would think that, but it’s actually the opposite. The rules say you must wear the uniform, but nowhere does it say you cannot modify the uniform. Nor are there strict guidelines on how it should be worn, length, and so on. It is very rare for a student to get creative with her uniform; the last one who did so now has her own fashion label.” Lady Beat smiled. “But your design is better.”

  She returned to her desk. “Everyone wears the same outfit here to make it easier to see how they wear it. How comfortable are they in it? How do they maintain it? Can they still express themselves? Similarly, all students participate in the same classes here, so I can better evaluate their strengths and their weaknesses. Do you understand?”

  Trivia frowned. Sort of. It sounded like it was all some kind of test—a control experiment. But she thought controlling them was the whole point. The school was supposed to change them, and you don’t do that in an experiment.

  So you can fix us? Trivia typed. She held up her screen, her hand trembling slightly.

  Lady Beat read her screen. Tears came to her eyes. “My dear, there’s nothing to fix. You aren’t broken. None of you are.”

  Trivia drew in a breath. She suspected her parents thought otherwise.

  “It saddens me that you think that. I blame your parents.”

  Trivia looked at her sharply.

  “I blame society.” Lady Beat gestured to the symbol on the wall behind her, the same on the gold pin she wore. “No one ever asks what this means. Why you wear it every day. Three spiral shapes connected at their center. We are ruled by thirds. In fashion, we combine no more than three colors. Our personalities are defined by the id, the ego, and the superego. We have our best instincts, our worst impulses, and the expectations of society—always warring, vying for control. But our goal, is harmony.” She gestured to the symbol. “Balance.”

  She sat down. “If you let one aspect dominate, or suppress another, things can spiral out of control. When you remove one from the others, you have chaos; but bring them all together and you have something …” She leaned back and smiled at Trivia. “Something beautiful.”

  Trivia’s mind was spiraling now. She had thought she was going to be in trouble, because every time she had done something unexpected, something that strayed from what her parents wanted, she had been punished for it. No place had seemed to have more rules than Lady Browning’s Preparatory Academy for Girls, but individuality—breaking the rules, was what Lady Beat wanted?

  Trivia threw up her hands in confusion. I thought we were supposed to follow the rules, but you want us to break them?

  “I wanted you to learn the rules and think about how to bend them. If you must break them, don’t get caught. We are expected to follow the rules, but when we do, we aren’t rewarded—we are simply expected to follow more rules. Never question them. Never try to change them.” Lady Beat clapped her hands. “No, thank you. If you want to get ahead in life, all you need to do is appear to follow the rules. As you know better than anyone, appearances can be deceiving.”

  Trivia tilted her head. Why are you telling me this?

  “I want to apologize to you, Ms. Vanille. I underestimated you, and because of that, I failed you. You’re bored here, aren’t you?”

  Completely. Trivia shook her head.

  Lady Beat winked. “You’re a natural at deception. And I should have seen it sooner. Your talents are being wasted, and so I am inviting you to join the advanced curriculum at the school.”

  Trivia’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Did you think this was all it was? Posture and diction? Girls usually aren’t ready for the real lessons until their second or third year, if they are ever deemed worthy. But you, I think, are a special case. With the proper training, you could be spectacular. I’m sure you have—”

  Trivia flashed her screen at Lady Beat. YES.

  “No questions?”

  Trivia shook her head. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

  “There is one thing I need from you, however. A sign that you are ready to commit yourself completely to becoming the best you you can be.”

  Trivia frowned.

  “You seem to have taken an interest in Roman Torchwick. He is a very dangerous criminal, and I have reason to believe he endangers the very existence of this school.”

  How does she know about that? Trivia thought, immediately wary.

  You want me to stay away from him.

  “On the contrary. I want you to find out what he’s planning. If we could help bring him to justice for his crimes, we would be doing a good deed—and get some positive coverage of our mission here.”

  Trivia bit her lip. It sounded like Lady Beat was giving her an assignment and the promise of more freedom, and all she had to do was keep tabs on Torchwick and get closer to him. Which she had wanted to do, anyway.

  Trivia nodded.

  “Please answer, with your voice app this time. Trivia Vanille, will you help me capture Roman Torchwick?”

  Trivia typed her response slowly. She pressed Play. “You can count on me.”

  “I know I can. Very well. Go collect your things.”

  Trivia raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re moving to your own room.”

  Just as quickly as Trivia’s life had turned upside down when her parents dumped her at the school, her fortunes had changed again, only this time for the better.

  She was now living in a second-floor dorm room, which she had all to herself, though it had a bunk bed designed for two students. It was a far cry from the room she’d had at home, but far better than sharing a space with nineteen other girls. She even had a private bathroom again.

  She was also closer to the Malachite girls, who lived on the opposite end of the hall. And her window made it even easier for her to sneak out.

  Her class schedule now included fascinating lessons like Introduction to Self-Defense, Social Engineering, The Art of Escape, Computer Science, and Fencing (though at this point she didn’t know if that meant fighting with swords or selling stolen goods—either way, she was up for it).

  It was almost too good to be true, she thought as she leaped lightly from her window to the tree right outside it. She crouched on a sturdy branch and looked back at the school.

  What if it was too good to be true?

  Was she jeopardizing her new standing at the school by sneaking out again? Now that she knew it had all been a kind of test to see what she would do, was she still being scrutinized? If so, she could actually get into trouble by betraying Lady Beat’s trust.

  Or, if she didn’t do whatever she wanted, without drawing attention to herself,
that might be failing.

  Trivia put her hands to the sides of her head and opened her mouth in a silent scream. They really knew how to mess with your mind here.

  Lady Beat had spoken about balance. Trivia stood and raised one foot, standing on the other. It was shaky at first, but as she thought about what she wanted, and why she was sneaking out, she felt more in balance and she stood up straight. She had Lady Beat’s expectations in mind, her parents’ expectations, and then her own interests. Trivia had always pushed those down, stamped them out. She’d let Neopolitan take the risks and take the blame.

  But the pink-haired girl had really been a part of her all along, a part that she hadn’t been ready, or able, or allowed to accept. It was time to let her out to play.

  Trivia hopped down to a lower branch and then did a somersault to the ground. She clapped for herself and skipped away toward the shops.

  She went shoplifting first. She needed pink hair dye, so she wouldn’t have to keep her Semblance active all the time to maintain her new look. She also needed some things to aid her in espionage and in her search for Roman Torchwick: a burner Scroll, a new computer, a lock-picking kit, and assorted spy gadgets. (You could find anything in the city.) Some things for fun: books and video games, because you had to treat yourself sometimes, and a few new outfits and accessories, including a gift for someone special. When the shops started to close, she headed back to the school. After a couple of blocks, she realized someone was following her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her muscles tensed.

  Try to give them the slip? Hide? That’s what the old Trivia would have done, but she didn’t want to run anymore. If someone was interested in what she was doing, then she was interested in what they were doing.

  She turned and scanned the street. Not many people out, and not many places to hide, but she found the most likely spot: the shadowed entryway of a shuttered noodle shop. She stomped toward it.

  As she reached it, a figure in a black hooded sweatshirt, black pants, and expensive black leather shoes stepped onto the street in front of her.