by Emme DeWitt
“Did you just draw a sun?” I asked, peering at the symbol in front of me.
“This is the symbol of the Elevated. It has to do with some lost prophecy about the Eight, who are the embodiment of the planes in perfect balance. I haven’t heard what the exact prophecy is, but I’m more self-taught than a lot of other Elevated kids. That’s a story for another day,” Evangeline said. “Possibly more like a week. It’s kind of messed up.”
A dark chuckle escaped Evangeline, but I remained silent. My fingers traced the pattern.
“So these are the planes?” I asked, nudging her back on track.
“Yeah,” she said, “they’re always written as equals, but in real life, there’s a bit of hierarchy that goes on. Like high school, but it’ll follow you ’til you’re dead.” She flung a wicked grin at me.
I laughed in surprise. “Yay,” I said with as little enthusiasm as possible. “Where do I sign up?”
“Vitality and Sentient planes are the cheerleaders and quarterbacks.” Evangeline marked them on the diagram. “Relative and Temporal are like the student body president and the valedictorian. Still important, not too useless, but can be more helpful later in life on resumes rather than being the golden boys and girls.”
“But it’s not a hard and fast rule,” I argued.
“Exactly. That’s based on the perception of which Elevated abilities are more valuable. And history. The movers and shakers and power play makers typically come from Vitality and Sentient planes, but that doesn’t knock anyone else out of the running.” Evangeline took a breath but hesitated.
The faucet of information shut off, and I checked to see if she was okay.
People had a bad habit of losing consciousness around me.
“I’m fine.” Evangeline shook herself from her freeze frame. “Just deciding how much of an info dump you are ready for.”
“You were talking about power play makers. You said it’s like high school,” I said, leading her back to the topic I really wanted to know about. While Adele and I were on the run, it felt like things got fixed a little too easily. As I grew older, I thought maybe someone was making the right things happen at the right time. I needed to know if my hunch had been right.
“Well, you get a bunch of powerful people together, and they think they can rule their own little kingdoms. Just like the ultra rich feel untouchable and play by their own rules, that’s kind of what’s happened among the Elevated. At least our parents’ generation,” Evangeline admitted. “I don’t know much before that. Not like there’s an Elevated 101 class we could take. Although I’d sign up for that in a heartbeat.”
“Right?” I let out another heavy sigh. I looked at the diagram, my fingers tracing it instinctively.
“Noah,” Evangeline said quietly again, making my head snap up. Now that I was so used to her being herself, any retreat back into her protective shell made my stomach turn.
“What?” I asked.
“I did have some ulterior motives for coming here today.” A slight blush bled through her tanned skin.
“Complete strangers don’t just bring you coffee?” I replied. “Weird.”
Evangeline smiled, nodding in understanding.
“Honestly, I know your plan is to stay as low profile as possible,” she said, “but I have to say from experience, it’s not going to work. You’re going to get dragged back into it, and I just thought you ought to know what you’re up against.”
“Go on.” I waited for the band-aid to be ripped off.
“Firstly, we’re going to keep this between you and me,” Evangeline said, her eyes searching mine. “I’ve been able to stay below the radar because they think I’m a dud. I don’t think that’ll keep me hidden for very much longer, but I have to try.”
“Not a problem,” I agreed. “Secondly?”
“Don’t trust Mags,” Evangeline blurted out.
Our eyes met, and I could only hear my own heartbeat in my ears. Her words had been so sure, I was taken aback.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I asked, my foot stilling finally in anticipation.
“I’m not saying she’s on the wrong team.” Evangeline pursed her lips as she tried to choose the best words. “Do you know anything about major league baseball?”
The question took me by surprise.
“Not really,” I said. “What does Mags have to do with baseball?”
“Some major league teams have several teams below them so they can choose and develop talent. If a major player gets injured, they have a back stock of potential replacement players they’re already familiar with who are loyal to the team,” Evangeline said. “Make sense?”
“I’m following,” I said.
“As a reward for getting better, players can move up the levels to get closer to the major league team. The teams below them are known as a farm team,” she pressed. “Do you understand?”
“Windermere is a farm team, isn’t it?” I said, dread weighing down my words. “It’s like boot camp for Elevated kids.”
“The Landing has always functioned like that for as far back as the school has been around. In all of the school’s history, though, this many Elevated or Elevated potential kids have never been at the school at one time. Something’s not right,” Evangeline said. “I’ve tried to stay out of it, but it’s a magnetic field. I can’t help but feel the pull.”
“How does Mags fit into this whole farm team concept?” I asked.
“She’s a scout. Numero uno in recruitment. You can’t fault her charisma, and she’s very good at bringing people into the fold. She’s going to try and reel you in, but you’ve got to resist,” Evangeline said.
“Why?”
“It’s not just Mags you have to worry about. It’s who she’s recruiting for.” Evangeline’s head snapped up in surprise.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I gotta go.” Evangeline hopped off her perch. She tossed her cup, dropping to the floor on all fours. A yowl echoed from under the desk, and Evangeline returned with the cat in her arms. Yet again, the cat looked absolutely horrified at being manhandled, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
“Just trust me.” Evangeline inched out the door. “I’ll try and explain better later. Or maybe you’ll find out yourself.” She squinted at me. “Yeah, you’ll figure it out. Anyway, I’ll take Ig with me so you can get back to work.”
“Ick?” I asked, amused that a cat would be named Ick.
“No, Ig, short for Ignatius,” said Evangeline, burying her face in his black fur. “Just ignore him. He has a little too much fun messing with the students sometimes.”
“Thanks again for the coffee,” I called after Evangeline as she disappeared around the doorframe into the hallway.
No problem, I heard in my head.
I dropped my cup, scooping it up before the last mouthful of coffee could splash onto the floor.
In the distance, I could hear a couple of students talking loudly in the hall. I stashed the Elevated diagram in my back pocket. Launching myself into the hallway, I grabbed the remaining few stacks still in progress and took them back into the safety of the office.
On my way out the door, I shut off the lights and slung my bag over my shoulder opposite the side I was used to. A sharp pain pressed against my collarbone, and I grimaced as I dug around for the source. My fingers tightened around the old key from the snowflake keychain, and the imprint of the carved door in the library floated up in my mind.
I shut the door of Ms. Xavier’s office behind me, gauging where the loud students were in relation to me. I turned on my heels, heading the opposite direction. Too many mysteries were piling up in my head. Gripping the key tightly in the palm of my hand, I resolved to answer at least one of those questions today.
Fourteen
The bright afternoon sun surprised me after being in Ms. Xavier’s office for so long. The clouds had parted and seemed to be giving the students one last hoorah before the blanket of winter fully smothered
any hopes of a bearable escape outside.
I passed several gaggles of girls, dressed in a variety of plain clothes on their day off. The flow of student traffic coming from the athletic quad and newer dorms was more stocked than a salmon run and about as daunting.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I had to move the key to my other hand to answer. The phone attempted to sink into the imprint the key had left, but the mental imprint left me distracted when I answered the video chat.
“Hey.” I stuck my phone against my cheek as I tried to find a safe place to shove the key without drawing any attention to myself. I could feel eyes following me across the quad, but I pretended I didn’t. Somehow making eye contact with the social aggressors would label me the freak, and I was too tired for that nonsense today.
“Whoa, what am I looking at?” Adele’s voice rang out into the air in front of me.
“Sorry, give me a second,” I muttered, trying to free my hands so I could face the screen. Finally, I hauled the phone in front of me, glancing up occasionally and trying not to run into any decorative pillars or planter boxes. “Better?”
“Is this a bad time?” Adele asked, her mouth half full of red licorice.
“I dunno, am I interrupting your,” I paused to check the time, “breakfast?”
“Har har,” Adele garbled around the candied ropes. “Ladies and gentlemen, the girl’s got jokes!”
“My life’s a joke,” I muttered to myself, dodging out of the way of a statue.
“Going that well, huh?” Adele asked. “How’s everything? Making any friends?”
“Well, this is my first real look at the outside world today. Just broke out of Saturday detention a little early, but I’m sure I’ll make up for it later,” I said briskly, trying to breeze over the bad news so Adele had a better shot at missing it.
“Detention? Excuse me? Back up.” A half-eaten licorice rope fell from her mouth in surprise. She was perched on top of her favorite stool with a worn out hoodie and faded pajama pants wrinkling beneath her contorted posture. The webcam on her large monitor gave me my first look at our new house.
“Ooo, is that a bay window?” I said, noticing the curtains drawn behind Adele to reduce any glare.
“Ooo, is that an attempt to dodge the question? Poor attempt. I thought I raised you better.” Adele waggled a fresh rope at me in admonishment.
“Sorry, I’m a little distracted,” I admitted, rubbing my face. “Lots going on.”
“You okay over there?” Adele asked, her frowning face ready for my best lie.
“You might not remember high school since it’s been at least three centuries since you’ve been, but there’s a lot of school work, not to mention all the social drama,” I said, trying to couch my problem in the standard whiny teenager narrative.
Adele’s face deadpanned, and I knew she’d seen through the attempt.
“Do I look that old?” Adele pulled on her cheeks in mock horror. “I just got a new wrinkle cream!”
“Yeah, so old.” I sighed.
Adele stopped aping at me, her lip jutting out in sympathy. “No-no,” she said, finally dropping her voice to a more serious tenor. “What on earth happened? I just dropped you off a few days ago.”
“You know how quickly I turn good situations to ash.” I waved my fingers at her through the phone. “It’s one of my many special skills.”
Adele snorted.
I gave up on walking, worried I would eventually wander into the bordering forest and get lost forever. Glancing up, I realized I was outside the library by the side entrance I’d noticed the other day. A fire escape ladder crawled up the side of the building, ending just short of the roof. I frowned at it, taking a seat on one of the bottommost steps.
“What got you detention? Did you hit someone?” Adele said, her tone unamused.
“I wish,” I replied. “You would not believe the number of people I’ve come across I’d like to hit.”
“Noah!”
“I was joking,” I lied. “I, uh, fell asleep in class.”
Adele’s jaw snapped shut. I glanced around, wondering how private my conversation really was. I couldn’t see anyone, and the echoes of cheering students through the quad told me some sort of game was happening and was likely the center of everyone else’s attention at the moment. I crossed my fingers and my toes that my hunch was correct.
“And how did you manage that?” Adele squeaked out.
“You know how overwhelming new schools can be. Lots of new people. That odd sense you’ve seen those faces before. Like it wasn’t the first time you’ve met them.” I raised an eyebrow at my lame explanation.
“Like that time you had déjà vu in Washington?” Adele asked, her fingers already typing furiously on her keyboard. She was distracted, looking at another monitor.
“Worse. Like, fifty times worse,” I muttered.
Her fingers froze over the keys, and she gave me the most horrified look I’d ever seen on her. “All right, I’ll come get you,” Adele quipped, hopping down from her stool to search for her purse. “Damn the contract.”
I sighed.
“This is too much. You can’t handle it. I’m coming to get you right now. The dean and the Board can eat my shorts,” Adele called from out of frame. “Where the hell did I put my keys?”
“What did I tell you about keeping your purse and your keys in the same spot?” I whined to the abandoned video call. “How am I supposed to help you find your crap if I haven’t even been there?”
“Found it!” Adele called triumphantly, hurrying back into frame.
I sighed again. This time, Adele looked up, abandoning her search for her keys within her newly located purse. She frowned at me.
“What?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I said miserably.
“Did you ask for a breath mint? I’m sure they’re in here somewhere,” Adele babbled, rummaging through her purse again.
“Addy!” I called out to Adele as I had when I was a child. Before the dreamscape came and ruined both our lives.
She dropped her purse in surprise. “What!” Adele hollered back.
“You’re not coming to get me,” I said simply.
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.” I shook my head. “I’ll figure things out. I promise.”
“You can’t stay there,” Adele said simply. “Fifty times today. A hundred times tomorrow. No. Absolutely not. Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be out front.”
“Adele,” I barked at her, pointing at the screen. “No.”
“Don’t you take that adult tone with me!” Adele shot back. “Luckily your voodoo doesn’t work on the other side of technology.”
“That’s a poor example. A, you’re never affected anyway, and B, we have not fully tested my range to be able to say that definitively,” I argued.
“Well, I don’t like it.” Adele plopped herself back down on her stool with her newly found purse to her chest.
“Noted and appreciated,” I said, “but you’re going to have to let me figure this out on my own. In my own time. Where have I heard that before?” I asked myself, shaking my head at the disjointed thoughts that were pulling my attention in all directions.
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone, but you have to promise to text me updates. None of this whoops I got detention forever and ever, but it’s fine, I’m only one sass back away from juvenile detention, okay?” Adele gnawed nervously on another licorice rope.
“Can I text you my care package demands?” I asked, my hand falling subconsciously on my throat. “I could use some throat lozenges.”
“Lozenges, huh?” Adele raised her eyebrow. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“And stop messing around on those message boards,” I said, eliciting a guilty pout from Adele, whose eyes flickered to another monitor.
“I’m a grown lady.” Adele straightened her posture against my barb.
“Yes, and you should be ashamed.” I stuck my ton
gue out at her. She returned the favor, and I felt a smile tug at my lips.
“Chin up.” Adele punched the air in solidarity.
“Talk to you later,” I said, signing off. I tucked the phone back in my pocket, letting the cold bite of the fire escape on my backside tie me down to reality. I stared up at the clouds running across the sky, wishing Adele could just whisk me away from my problems like she had in the past.
Starting over new was easy. Leaving no lasting marks on a landscape, on people, or on a school was easy. I could float in a crowd unnoticed. Deep down, I hated having to be the first to run. Just once, I wanted to be able to stand my ground and claim the space as mine.
I stood up from my uncomfortable seat, shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and exhaled. This time around would be different. I would stay, but I would stay on my own terms. The old skeleton key clanked against my nails in my jacket pocket. My fingers closed around it tightly.
The first step was always the hardest.
Fifteen
The library was as deserted as it had been my first morning here. I passed row upon row of empty tables and silent stacks and had an eerie sense that maybe even the librarians were playing hooky. I kept a lookout for Ig, but he didn’t materialize either.
With zero witnesses, I wasn’t even sneaky when I walked back to the dark lacquered wooden panels of the domed conservatory room. I careened right, walking straight up to the snowflake door.
I frowned at the door, unable to find a keyhole or any door handle.
How was I supposed to open it?
I flipped the key around in my nimble fingers, scanning the seams of the door for any weak points or secret push points. After finding nothing along the seams, my fingers reached out to the snowflake emblem carved into the door. I traced it idly, appreciating the level of detail in such a deceptively simple design.
The design was perfectly circular, just like the sun and the maple leaf had been. They were all about the same size. The secret to opening this door would also open the others. I glanced down the curved wall, making sure I was still alone. The shelves behind me gave decent cover, but if someone else knew about these doors, they would know exactly where to look.
