The Archives (Sacrisvita Book 2)

by Dylan Steel

  Sage tried to act nonchalant. “I mean, they must think it means something right? Or else why write it there for everyone to see?”

  Nic shrugged. “It’s just their term. I don’t think anyone really knows.”

  “They probably don’t even know,” Pippa added gleefully.

  “Nothing like this has happened before—at least, not that I can remember,” Penelope commented. “I’m sure the Quorum’s freaking out over the security breach.”

  “I don’t think so.” Marnie looked back down at her databook. “Mr. Gaztok didn’t look at all surprised when the lights came back on.”

  “Are you saying he knew?” Pippa’s eyes were wide.

  “No,” Marnie rolled her eyes. “Just that he’s not worried.”

  Madame Humphrey’s silhouette appeared in the doorway.

  “Come on, ladies! Bedtime.”

  After letting out a collective groan in protest, the girls fell in line and followed their caretaker down the hallway to the dormitory.

  In the whir of activity, the conversation about the Lawless presence in Eprah was quickly forgotten. Everyone had to race to finish getting ready for bed before the Level Nines showed up. Stragglers often wound up with some form of passive aggressive angst directed at them for days.

  Sage pulled back her covers and felt a poke from behind. Penelope was standing there with her hands on her hips.

  “Ok, you cannot tell me to keep a secret and then spill it yourself.”

  Sage scrunched up her face in an apology. “I didn’t. Not exactly.” She hesitated. “I didn’t mean to. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” Penelope said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she crawled into the bed next to Sage’s. “Tell yourself you’re sorry when you wind up being shunned.”

  She flopped down in bed. “And then tell me you’re sorry because you won’t be around to hang out with until after we graduate. Which is totally not ok, just so you know.”

  Sage grinned sheepishly. “I’ll try to be more careful,” she assured Penelope, scooting under her covers.

  “But just so you know, the whole thing is driving me crazy.”

  “I know. You’ve only told me a hundred times.” Penelope sighed and rolled over.

  Too many of the other girls were piling into their beds around them. It wasn’t safe to talk about this anymore, even cryptically.

  Sage leaned back to rest her head on her pillow. She screwed up her face in pain. It felt like someone had swapped out the stuffing in her pillow for a sack of bricks.

  She sat back up and prodded it. In her attempt to fluff it, she noticed something firm inside got knocked loose. She frowned and reached her arm inside hesitantly.

  Her eyes widened when she realized what she’d just pulled out of her pillowcase. She stared down in disbelief, squeezing her eyes open and shut several times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  In her hand was the missing book from the Archives.

  Glancing around quickly to be sure she wasn’t being watched, she cracked open the cover to be sure it was in fact the same book. A piece of paper fluttered out of the pages. She picked it up, cupping it discreetly in her hands as she studied it carefully.

  Another cipher.

  19. SECOND THOUGHTS

  Thwump-thunk-thud!

  Sage grimaced as another section of the pile slid to the floor. She drew her hand back. The slightest touch was hazardous. This was the fifth mini-avalanche she’d caused since she entered the room.

  Fortunately, no one else was around to witness her catastrophic research methods. She gingerly moved the vases and paintings to the side as she continued digging through the uncategorized relics.

  She sighed. This was a waste of time. She plopped down against an old table leg and tugged the book out of her waistband. It almost never left her side anymore—literally. She knew she couldn’t take any more chances that it would go missing again.

  As she cracked open the spine, the picture began sliding out. She caught it before it hit the ground. Why did it look so familiar? There was nothing in the historical accounts about any important set of twelve people.

  Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was building up something in her head that was never there to begin with. Frustrated, she tucked the photo in the back of the book.

  “Any luck?”

  Sage looked up in surprise. Mr. Walsh had somehow entered the room without making a sound. Or maybe his entry had just been muffled by the noise of collapsing relic piles.

  “Not really,” she said, attempting to slip the book behind her with as much subtlety as she could muster.

  It wasn’t enough.

  “Is that—” Mr. Walsh eagerly reached for the book before she could hide it. “—it is. That’s the book that was lost, correct?”

  Sage nodded.

  “Wonderful. Fascinating.” He thumbed through the pages. “Where did you find it?”

  She hesitated.

  “Sage?” Mr. Walsh raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m not sure you would believe it.”

  “Try me.”

  “In my pillow.” She exhaled. It felt good to let someone in on the strange secret. She hadn’t even told Penelope about it.

  “Really?” he whistled. “You’re right, that’s certainly an unexpected place for this to turn up.”

  “I sure thought so.”

  “Fascinating,” he repeated. He extended his arm to return the book but then stopped. “What is this?” he murmured, pulling the book back. A corner of the photograph had slipped out.

  “Nothing,” Sage replied hurriedly. “Just something I found down here while I was researching.” She reached for the picture expectantly.

  Mr. Walsh ignored her silent request. Instead, he tugged the photo the rest of the way out of the book and examined it. He pulled the picture nearer to his face and squinted.

  His eyes suddenly grew wide. “Sage,” he said sharply, “where did you find this?”

  “Um…” she glanced around the room, looking for the blank book she’d stashed. “In another book? Why? What is it?”

  He leaned in closer. “What other book? Do you have it?”

  “It was down here somewhere.” Her eyes fell on the book, but she turned her attention back to Mr. Walsh and wrinkled her forehead. “Why?”

  “That book could be very important, Sage. It’s vital that I see it.”

  Mr. Walsh had never looked so desperate before. She sucked in her breath uncertainly.

  “Sage?” Mr. Walsh’s eyes pleaded with her. “I know you’re aware that this is not exactly a sanctioned research topic.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I believe that both of us want to know the truest history of this nation.”

  Her resolve crumbled. “It’s over there,” she pointed. “But I don’t think it’ll be any use. All the pages are blank.”

  Without hesitation, he headed over to the pile and stooped to retrieve the empty book. He flipped through the pages as he walked back.

  “Quite fascinating,” he mumbled. He held the book up, examining the pages more closely under the light from the ceiling.

  He turned his attention back to his student. “Would you mind if I kept these?”

  She shrugged in defeat. “I guess not. But why are they important?”

  “Oh, I don’t know that they are,” he said. “Not really, at least. But perhaps they are worth further scrutiny.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “But you recognized the picture.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Yes, you did.” The words came out as an accusation.

  Mr. Walsh’s smile faded. “I know no more than you about that picture,” he said solemnly. “I swear.”

  Sage cocked her head uncertainly. She didn’t think he’d lie to her, but it didn’t make sense. She was certain he’d recognized the picture.

  “I think it’s best if I leave you to your research for now, Miss Indarra. It seems to me that yo
u have quite a bit of catching up to do now that you have that book in hand again.”

  He tucked the blank book with its photograph inside his jacket and turned toward the door.

  Sage watched silently as he left the room, staring blankly at the now-empty doorway. She glanced down at the book still in her hand. It was no longer the hiding spot for the picture she’d found, but it still contained clues to a mystery that she needed to solve.

  Despite having agreed to hand over the picture, she found herself becoming frustrated, unable to focus on deciphering the text. She pursed her lips, deep in thought.

  Mr. Walsh hadn’t left that long ago, she reasoned. If she hurried, she might still be able to catch him before he reached the other students. She might be able to change his mind.

  She only hesitated for a moment before dashing into the hallway. She’d never attempted to find her way back to the main room on her own before, but she remembered enough of the turns to make it at least partway. There was at least a reasonable chance she could catch up to her instructor before she got lost.

  Sage sprinted through the halls, around a few corners, and up a flight of stairs. She was beginning to question her recollection of the next turn when she heard voices just a little ways ahead, around the corner from where she was standing. She froze.

  Quietly inching closer, she strained to make out the voices. They were both familiar, but they were speaking in low tones, and it was hard to make out what was being said.

  She peeked around the corner. Only the back of Mr. Walsh’s head was distinguishable. Leaning a little farther forward, she was able to see who he was speaking to. And he saw her too.

  Kai locked eyes with her over Mr. Walsh’s shoulder and then glanced back at their instructor. “Well, I’m sorry we don’t see completely eye to eye on this project,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I hope you don’t consider it wasted effort. I’m sure I can convince you of that by the time I give my final report.”

  He turned his attention to their eavesdropper. “Do you need something, Sage?” His question was just as icy as his manner toward her had been ever since he’d quit as her Bokja instructor.

  Mr. Walsh stepped to the side and turned, facing her in surprise.

  She stepped forward sheepishly. “Um, I just wanted to ask Mr. Walsh a question,” she stammered.

  Silence filled the hallway.

  “Yes, Sage?” Mr. Walsh waited. His face showed no hint that he suspected her question would be related to what they had just discussed in the cataloguing room.

  “Um…” Sage looked at Kai. Clearly, he wasn’t going anywhere. And she obviously couldn’t mention the picture around him.

  “Yes?” Mr. Walsh prodded again.

  “Uh,” she hesitated. “I was wondering if I could take another look at the relic we talked about earlier?”

  Mr. Walsh shot a sideways look at Kai before answering equally cryptically. “Maybe some other time, Sage. We’re about to wrap up here for the evening.”

  He began to turn, gesturing for both students to follow him back to the main study area.

  “But, sir,” Sage protested.

  “Not now,” he said firmly. Despite his efforts to hide it, a flash of worry crossed his face as he glanced over at Kai.

  She bit her lip and trailed behind them as they made their way back to the main floor. There wasn’t a chance she could ask him for the picture again today. And somehow, she doubted that Mr. Walsh would be willing to part with it now anyway. She’d blown it.

  20. ROSALIND

  “Don’t stop until your leg feels like it’s going to fall off.” Rosalind paced the mat.

  Sage grunted as she pulled her foot back. “It… felt… like… that… ten… minutes… ago,” she huffed, thrusting the side of her foot forward again.

  Rosalind tilted her head unsympathetically. “Well, you can still talk, so I think you’re still good. Keep going.”

  Sage tried unsuccessfully to shoot her a dirty look. All her spare energy was going toward the shin-kick drills, so she only really succeeded in having her eyes roll back in her head, which just made her feel like she was about to black out.

  Her foot shot out once more, and as she brought it back, her heel started dragging along the floor. It burned, but she couldn’t lift it.

  “Alright, take a break.” Rosalind fought back a grin.

  “Th-thanks,” Sage gasped, stumbling forward. She collapsed in front of her canteen and stared at it blankly for a moment before shaking her head and reaching for it.

  She tipped her head back and guzzled the water messily, letting it slosh out the sides and down her face, further soaking her sweat-drenched uniform.

  “Whoa, slow down a minute.” Rosalind pulled the canteen off her face. “Too fast, and you’ll get sick. And I’m not cleaning that up.” She raised an eyebrow and handed back the canteen, taking a seat on the floor next to her.

  Sage swallowed what was left in her mouth and paused, nodding gratefully to Rosalind for the returned canteen.

  “That’s right, just take a breath.” Rosalind began to model a slow, deep breath, but a sudden coughing fit overtook her, shaking her whole body.

  “Are you ok?” Sage waited until the coughing had stopped to ask.

  “Fine.” Rosalind gulped in air. She blinked back the tears forming at the edges of her reddened eyes.

  Sage stared at the ground uncomfortably. “Are you sick?”

  “No.” Rosalind cleared her throat. “Not exactly,” she said hesitantly. “I just react really badly to my injections.”

  Sage nodded slowly. “Won’t they let you stop taking them?”

  Rosalind snorted. “Not a chance. I’m a prime reproductive candidate, didn’t you know?”

  Sage shifted her weight uncomfortably and took another swig from her canteen. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t be.” Rosalind shook her head. “It’s better for me this way anyways. I’ll be untouchable for nearly a year. At least, once I’m pregnant. I think it’s harder for the guys.” A faraway look came over her face.

  Sage tipped back the canteen again. She was beginning to regret having brought it up.

  “You know Kai and I being paired is pretty much a given.”

  “I figured.”

  “We knew it was likely before they told us our predicted assignments this year.” Rosalind looked down at Sage and then closed her eyes. “That’s one of the advantages to being at the top in Bokja. Keep practicing, Sage. I think you have a real shot at being a top student in a few years.”

  Sage’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Mmhmm,” Rosalind murmured. “And being one of the best Bokja athletes is an advantage on a lot of levels. Chances, pairings…”

  She opened her eyes again, putting her hand to her temple and rubbing it. “It would be really hard if Kai and I weren’t paired. We’ve been dating for almost two years now. We wouldn’t even have bothered if we weren’t so closely matched. I can’t imagine if…” she trailed off, looking down at her small audience.

  “Is this making you uncomfortable?”

  “No,” Sage squirmed.

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “Kai’s right. You’re not a very good liar. You probably should work on that.”

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  Rosalind raised an eyebrow. “Much as I’d like to believe you, I don’t,” she said. “Not that it matters. You need to get used to the idea of the pairings just like everyone else. It’s not like your parents can keep coddling you.” She sighed and leaned back against the wall.

  Sage gritted her teeth. While it was no longer a surprise to hear Kai or Rosalind reference her parents, she hated that they just assumed they knew everything about her life before the Institution because they read some stupid file on her.

  “Look,” Rosalind said, “I know you’re probably not the biggest fan of Kai right now after he quit training you—”

  “No kidding,” Sage retorted.

 
“—but he’s that way because he cares. Really.” Rosalind ignored her eye roll and continued. “Trust me, I’m well aware of how intense he can be. Like I said, we’ve been together awhile.” She laughed. “He’s the most focused, driven person I know. I’m convinced he’ll retire in the Center someday, and not many people do.”

  Rosalind looked at her intently. “He sees a lot of potential in you. We both do.”

  Sage sighed, setting down her canteen. “Then why won’t he train me anymore? I said I was sorry.”

  Rosalind didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to stare at the wall. “I’m sure he has his reasons,” she said noncommittally.

  She smiled. “You know, I’m not sure it’s such a bad thing that you got in trouble at the beginning of the year. We probably wouldn’t have gotten to know each other at all.” She slugged Sage playfully in the shoulder.

  Another coughing fit came over her, but it was over as suddenly as it began. Rosalind’s reddened eyes wandered toward the edge of the room, her gaze falling on the two students who had just entered the room.

  As usual, Carnabel was sneering at Sage from her stance behind Kai.

  “I guess that’s our cue that our session’s over.”

  Sage exhaled in relief at Rosalind’s words. She’d instantly been worried she was going to be forced into another match with Carnabel. Her legs still felt like they were made of putty. She wouldn’t have stood a chance against her today.

  Rosalind pushed herself off the ground, offering a hand to Sage.

  “We’ll get out of your hair now.” Rosalind smiled at Kai.

  “Thanks.” He nodded, stone-faced. He refused to even look at Sage as she walked past him and out the door.

  Maybe Rosalind’s a good liar, Sage thought, and Kai doesn’t care about me at all.

  21. THE PRESENTATION

  “Who wants to go next?” Mr. Walsh poked his head in the room.

  Everyone’s eyes remained downcast, fixated on their databooks in a last-ditch effort to prepare, only delaying the inevitable.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not even for a grade.” Mr. Walsh sighed, exasperated. “I suppose it was too much to ask to have more than three volunteers this year.” He glanced around the room hopefully and then clucked his tongue. “Alright then. Sage, you’re up.”