“Get up, Lilah,” Ms. Petrovna commands.
Lilah blinks and sees the piercing jade eyes of Ms. Petrovna boring into hers, blonde hair framing her face. “What happened?” Lilah gathers her legs beneath herself. She feels sore, as if she didn’t fall to the ground but was thrown.
“Well, well. Lilah, what am I going to do with you?”
Chapter Four
Ms. Petrovna stands with a cocked hip and a hand under her chin as she stares down at Lilah, who lays rather awkwardly in the grass. Her hands burn. “What happened?” Lilah makes to stand when Ms. Petrovna offers her hand, helping her up. As Lilah brushes the grass clippings from her gear, a dull ache branches out across her ribs. Unconsciously, she clutches her torso, where the mysterious signa warms her skin.
Ms. Petrovna watches with a tilted head. Lilah drops her hand. “You truly don’t recall?” Lilah shakes her head. She turns from Lilah to address the other students. “Class is dismissed. I will see you all before we leave for the Ludi.” She sighs, then rubs her forehead. “I’ll speak with you, Beau, later.” She watches the students walk off, shaking her head, then turns her attention back to Lilah. “I’m assuming, by your reaction, you didn’t know you were pyrokinetic?”
Lilah goes rigid, unsure how to respond. Might this be the strange signa swallowing her ribcage and stretching down her torso?
“You tried to sear a hole in Beau’s chest. If I hadn’t stepped in, he’d be dead right now.” Ms. Petrovna smiles with teeth, the expression out of place on her face. “Pyrokinesis—quite a rare and malicious ability.” With languid eyes, she lowers her gaze over Lilah’s body. “The last person known to possess the ability was Rowley Eadwig. I’m sure you’ve heard of the name? He was a member of the Six and Alessandra Hilt’s husband.”
Lilah blushes, the power of Ms. Petrovna’s glare weakening her resolve to stay quiet. She places a hand to her waist, the mysterious signa coming alive.
“You’re quite the curiosity, Lilah.” Placing her hands on her hips, Ms. Petrovna laughs. “Your genuine surprise must mean that it’s an ability due to fully arise after your ascension, which must be soon, yes?”
Lilah remains quiet. She isn’t sure how to feel. Is Ms. Petrovna berating Lilah for defending herself or is she condemning the method Lilah used? Was it even me or was it that other thing? All the times that anger filtered into her, she had remained conscious of her actions, even if they weren’t exactly under her control, but this time all had turned dark. She bites the tender tissue of her cheek.
Ms. Petrovna drops her hands from her hips and glances toward the spiraling towers of the academy. “Have you anything to say for yourself, Lilah?”
“I only did what you’ve been teaching us this entire year. Beau was in the wrong, the match was over.”
Ms. Petrovna’s smile returns. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll tell your other instructors you won’t be in class today.”
“Thank you,” Lilah says, wondering how Ms. Petrovna would word it to the other instructors and why her instructor suddenly showed her unwarranted concern.
Lilah retreats inside the academy walls, where her instructor’s penetrating eyes can do no prodding. A pyrokinetic? Her hands shake; she clenches her jaw. I nearly killed Beau?
As if in a daze, Lilah wanders through the academy until she stands outside her room. Her hand on the knob, she blinks and opens the door. When she sinks into the bed, her heavy eyelids gladly close.
“No! Please no!” Lilah yells out into the darkness. The forest smells of pinewood and carnage. Blood seeps through the green grass into the cold, cold dirt beneath Lilah’s bare feet.
“What have you done?” an oddly familiar voice threatens close by. The silhouette stands in the shadows, close to the water’s edge. “What have you done?” the voice echoes.
Tears cascade down her cheeks. Her chest collapses. She gasps for air. Lilah flashes a glance at her hands. Blood drips from her fingertips, but she feels no pain. She is not the injured one.
The silhouette moves closer. “What—have—you done?” The voice sounds weak, its power waning into oblivion.
Lilah rakes her mind for an answer. What happened? Why am I here?
Suddenly, the figure launches at Lilah. The shadow lands onto Lilah’s shoulders and grabs her temple, squeezing tighter and tighter. Lilah pushes her hands through the entanglement until she finds skin that is not hers. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, Focus, focus. The blood melts off her hands as a flame ignites in her palm. The silhouette does not move. Instead, it releases a piercing screech. Lilah throws her hands onto the materializing torso, aiming for the person’s heart. Gulping down as much air as she can, Lilah readies herself for another incantation. The hairs on the back of her neck rise, the anima within her growing.
“No! You will not kill me, Lilah!”
“But you’ve given me no choice!” The flame bursts out into the space around them like a supernova. The blast engulfs the figure, who scrambles back and forth in the flames.
“Don’t come any closer!” Lilah balances herself.
The figure flings to the ground before becoming completely still. Dread overwhelms Lilah as the charred body gathers itself to a standing position. As Lilah stands paralyzed with disbelief, the figure closes the space between them. Horror strikes Lilah’s heart.
Wild black eyes stare back at her.
She opens her eyes and gasps for breath. She is in a room so white and bright that she fears she isn’t truly seeing but rather she’s gone blind. She spins around, looking for a door, a window, anything to help her escape. Collapsing out of exhaustion in the middle of the room, she brings her hands to her cheeks. She is so cold, too cold, and her breath willows out of her body in a white puff. She closes her eyes and starts to feel the sensation of falling, falling into darkness. But then warmth tickles her skin, thawing her icy body. “Lilah, sweet child,” a voice coos.
Lilah spins weakly and sees a woman. An eerie recognition hits Lilah, a feeling of ease, of safety.
“Lilah, don’t move, don’t struggle. You are too fragile right now. Just listen to my voice . . .”
The radiating warmth soothes her. She loosens the grip of her arms around her bent knee, and lies down. Her pulse calms. This is not right. She tries to open her mouth to force words to come out, but it is useless. Her tongue is limp, dumb.
“Lilah, I do not have much time to explain, but you must be warned! There is a battle on the horizon that you might have to face alone. But do not fear. Hilts do not fear death. And that is what you are, a Hilt. My blood runs through your veins. The faster you understand, the faster you can conquer it and be no longer ruled by its power.”
Lilah’s body begins to convulse.
“Lilah—time—heed—”
“Lilah!” Alicia’s voice rockets through Lilah’s ears. She wakes, sharp pains piercing her entire body. She looks down at her hands. The blood, the fear, and the woman . . . it’s all fresh in her memory. “You were making the most awful noises,” Alicia mumbles, bobbed hair casting across her cheeks as she gazes down at Lilah from the edge of the bed.
Lilah casts her eyes to her friend’s face, contorted with concern. How can she explain the dream? “I—I don’t remember.” Avoiding Alicia’s concerned gaze, Lilah darts her eyes around her room. A shiver runs down Lilah’s spine when she notices some papers had been pushed across her desk. One of its side drawers is slightly ajar. Lilah can’t help herself from wondering if her friend had searched through her things, but for what? She blinks and tries to disregard the thought. Lilah straightens her jaw. “I think someone went through my things.” Glancing back to Alicia, she searches her friend’s face for any sign of guilt.
Alicia follows Lilah’s nod to her desk. “I would have noticed if someone had been here beside me!” she says, slapping Lilah’s shoulder. “I know I’m not some warrior prodigy, but I can’t believe you still don’t trust me.” She folds her arms and lifts her chin with unnecessary dram
a. “You know, I skipped my geo lesson to see you!”
“I didn’t ask you to.” Lilah sits up, her suspicion forming a knot in her stomach.
Alicia laughs, then mimes a tear falling down from her eye with a finger. “What were you dreaming about? You sounded genuinely horrified.”
Lilah laughs spuriously, unable to see her hands without the blood dripping languidly from her fingertips. “Sure,” she says, purposeful with her vagueness.
“Are you okay? I heard about Beau—”
“Let them talk,” she interrupts. All she wishes for is to be alone; it’s easier when she’s alone and she doesn’t have to stay on guard. “We’re leaving this place soon anyway.”
Alicia shrugs but doesn’t look convinced. “Sure.” A shadow of a smile crosses her pouted lips when she walks to Lilah’s door. “You won’t miss dinner again, will you?”
“Dinner?” How long have I been asleep? Lilah sighs and rubs between her eyes. She’s missed her other classes, but then she remembers Ms. Petrovna say she would speak with her instructors. Still, she should go and talk to them since Director Elmer made it clear to Lilah if she makes any more mistakes he’ll have to expel her. She grinds her teeth at the thought of having to apologize—but more so because she doesn’t remember what happened.
“I was halfway expecting you to be a giant butterfly with all this sleep you’ve had these past two days.”
Lilah breaks into a fit of laughter at the thought. “I’ll be there, I don’t think I can miss another meal. I’m ravenous!”
Alicia stands at the threshold, her body half in Lilah’s room and half being pulled by some invisible force into the hallway. “Okay, I’ll see you in a sec, then?”
Lilah smiles, trying to reassure Alicia, but hoping to reassure herself, too. “Yeah.”
The peculiar color of Rain Daniels’ eyes, which seemed to mirror any light, mesmerized Lilah with curiosity when they first met. At Birch Creek Academy, she found herself surrounded by children her own age for the first time. Their class had been one of the largest ones in a while, and Lilah gained a spot among a group of five girls. At six, Lilah had only spent her time in Verna’s company, so she eagerly clung to them.
Rain and Lilah shared many classes and played together during free time, the three other girls joining in on the off chance they, too, had a free period at the same time. One of their favorite things to do was run around the vast backyard with Birch Creek’s ambassador, Pixie, a large black dog. Pixie chased after them, barking and jumping up on them, to the hilarity of Rain and Lilah. They would always collapse on the ground and let Pixie lick the sweat from their cheeks, even if her breath smelled slightly rancid, like dried fish.
While at Birch Creek, Lilah received her first three tenebrae. She wasn’t used to listening to adults—Verna hardly counted, in her mind. Even when Lilah did something she shouldn’t have, Verna never punished her, or at least it never felt like she did because she would smile and say, “I don’t want you to get hurt, and as your guardian, it would hurt me, too.”
It was a lie. That kind of connection only exists with binds, which she learned about years later, and when she approached Verna about it, the woman who had planted a stake in Lilah’s heart smiled and said, “Guardians are special—we can feel our wards’ pain without binds.” Lilah was skeptical, already Verna seemed like some mystical creature, and this only added to that belief.
After the three tenebrae, Lilah had gained a reputation. During the two subsequent years—Birch Creek was an academy that went up through all ages, except for students in their final year—things began to grow tense between her and Rain. She started to withdraw from Lilah during free time and class, even ignoring Lilah outright when she spoke to her. Lilah didn’t understand. What had she done to be treated like this?
When she confronted Rain in front of all the others, Rain denied that she had done anything wrong. She said that her parents told her to “stay away from scum.” The others laughed, as did Lilah.
“Why are you laughing? Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?”
“Gosh,” she folded her arms, “you really are stupid. I come from an elite Nox family. I can’t be friends with someone who has a Lux last name!”
The onlookers “oohed.”
Crowne . . . Verna. Lilah shoved Rain, propelling the girl into the others. “I don’t care what you say about me, but don’t talk about my mom!”
It was a month before the end of term, and the director called Lilah into her office, in the middle of morning class. Pixie lay on the woman’s desk. Lilah asked what had happened when the director interrupted her and shouted, “Don’t act like you don’t know! She was found in your room this morning!”
“What?” Lilah mumbled, tears falling.
The director slapped her; Lilah’s cheek burned, but she resisted the urge to touch it. “Tears won’t sway me. You’re a sick little girl!”
“I didn’t do it!” Lilah reached for Pixie’s paw, the aroma of blood now filling her nostrils. She vomited swiftly on the floor. “Pixie! Pixie!”
The director expelled her. Verna had already been summoned to the train stop. Lilah would have to pack her things and leave immediately.
When she heard snickering from around the corner of her door, Lilah launched herself, without a thought or care for who it might be, into the hallway. She collided and landed on top of Rain, with her eyes colorless. As Lilah punched the girl, her fists turned bloody, and Lilah wasn’t sure if it was her knuckles or Rain’s face that bled. Tears and snot stained her chin. Two instructors had to pull the girls apart.
“You did it! How could you!” Lilah sobbed as they took her into the room where they performed tenebrae. She went thrashing the whole way. That’s when she received the largest brand on her body, still, on her thigh. The pain had been so extreme that she fainted but three seconds after they lowered the searing rod onto her skin.
That was how Lilah grew to understand “friend” was a word synonymous with “betrayer.” The quiet part of her that sought the companionship of others entered a state of slow death.
The aromas of dinner waft through the air as Lilah nears the dining hall. Her mouth waters. She strides down the corridor and turns to open the heavy wooden door. On entering the hall, she sees a few of the other students. It isn’t hard to know the students by name when there are only sixteen in all, including herself. As she continues to stride down the aisle toward the table at the front of the room, the floor creaks underfoot.
This is one of the only truly warm rooms in the academy. So close to a large furnace used in the room next door for cooking, students come here to simply enjoy the warmth, especially in the winter months, as it is now. Two long dining tables stretch the length of the room, made of the same wood of the doors and the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling. Perhaps in another time this hall rang with laughter, but not now, a heavy silence falls over the students when Lilah enters.
Alicia stands at the front of the hall with a full plate in her hands. She reaches for a soft warm bun to top it all off. As she turns and sees Lilah approaching, a smile consumes her face and she waves. Lilah waves back and rolls her eyes in the direction of the couple sitting opposite in the corner: Tara and Zane. When her eyes meet Alicia’s once more, Alicia sticks her tongue out and mimes vomiting. Lilah laughs.
She reaches the table at the front of the hall, picks a plate up, and makes her way down the spread of food. Despite there only being sixteen students, Maye Flynn, the school’s cook, refuses to make anything less than a feast for dinner every night. Lilah doesn’t mind, who would? Other academies she went to had much less to offer, so Lilah knows not to take this for granted. She spoons fruit and vegetables onto her plate, then knives a couple slices of meat, too, before plopping a roll of the bread on the side.
Joining Alicia where she lounges in the middle of one of the benches, Lilah places the plate down and sits. Alicia takes a slow glance from Lilah’s plate to her eyes.
“I thought you said you were ‘ravenous’?”
“Yeah, ‘ravenous,’ not ‘barbaric,’” Lilah says, lifting a slice of apple into her mouth.
“‘Barbaric’ is a good thing, too, though, when you’re in these people’s company,” Alicia says, raising her voice and looking pointedly at Tara and Zane, who are squished in the corner, kissing. She makes a noise of disgust and pushes some food around on her plate. “I daresay Mrs. Maye has been slacking recently, this lamb is just—gross.”
Lilah looks at the meat on her own plate and cuts into the lamb chop. “I think it tastes just as well as it normally does, maybe a little too much garlic.” She shrugs, then eats a piece.
“You’re too easy to satisfy,” Alicia says, pushing the meat off her plate and onto the table, the impact making a small plop sound. “My mother never leaves it looking like this. It’s like shoe leather. Honest to Aura, I think Mrs. Maye is trying to kill me.”
Lilah holds in a sigh. Sometimes she can tolerate Alicia’s idiosyncrasies, and other times, she simply can’t. Alicia is a Malakai, a well-known Nox family, famous for their cooking. Alicia tells her at nearly every meal that something is just not right about the meat or the glaze on the vegetables or the dipping sauce for the tuna or the icing on the cake or the syrup on the pancakes, on and on. And on.
Alicia takes any chance the students have to go home. There have been plenty of weekends where Lilah was at Waterstone alone. At the end of every year, before the start of a new term, the students have two weeks to do with their time what they want. Some of the wealthier students go on vacations to other parts of the territory or even across the ocean. Others go home.
Premonition Page 5
