by Cece Rose
I’ve seen photos of this island before. I know it’s located just off the coast of Scotland, and that it looks like a wreck from the outside. I’m sure that’s some kind of ruse to keep humans out, as well as having the protection wards spelled into the island by the first of the marked to settle here.
I keep walking towards the open doors at the end of the corridor. There are massive, dark-wood stairs on either side going up to the next level, and when I look up, the stairs wind all the way up to the top of the manor. At the top, is a glass dome where I can see the stormy, grey skies outside. There must be at least five levels from what I can see.
I’m just about to go through the large doors, when I stop as I hear doors open behind me. I turn to see Kelly walking in, and she shakes her head at me as our eyes meet. Even from this distance, I can see her eyes are filled with tears. Her dress is soaking wet, clinging to her small frame and wet, blonde hair is plastered against the sides of her face.
“Please move into the hall,” a man says from behind me in a sharp voice. Turning I see a guy not much older than me holding the door open.
“But, can’t I just wait for my friend?” I ask as I turn to look at him.
He shakes his head. “Move on,” the man says, his tone leaving no room for argument. I glance once more at my friend before turning and walking into the hall.
The room is massive, and filled with students all dressed in black robes sitting down on chairs located on either side of the room. The hall has dozens of little balls of glass lights hanging from the ceiling, they are all a mixture of yellows and reds. I know they aren’t any kind of marked magic, but they have a certain magical effect on the room.
The floor is the same dark wood as the corridor, and the walls are gold and white panels. The twelve marks are drawn on each section of the walls that are gold, six on each side like the doors. My eyes glance at the twelfth mark, seeing it painted in black against the gold.
The twelfth mark looks like a sphere, with an arrow going through it. The arrow splits the sphere in half. Unless my new power is cutting things in half, the mark is no help in figuring out what the power is. No wonder nobody has figured it out before.
A throat clears, and I pick up my pace, realising how slowly I’m moving due to gaping at the room around me. There is a gold, marked path in the middle of the students for the new entrants to walk down. I can see the other new students at the front of the hall as I get closer, behind them are three large, glass windows that overlook the rough sea. I can see the crashing waves in the water from here.
I walk faster down the middle of the students, not glancing at anyone, but I feel their stares on me. The room is so quiet that I can hear my every footstep in my wet shoes. I bite my tongue softly, feeling heat flush to my cheeks. I try and force myself not to think about the fact there are so many students here, and soon, every single one of them will know I have all twelve marks. At the end of the path, is a small stage where all the new students are sitting on seats. I lift my cloak and dress as I walk up the few steps, and I take the next empty seat in the line. When I sit down, my eyes go straight to Kelly who has just walked in. I watch her like everyone else as she wipes her eyes and quickly walks to the stage. She takes the seat next to me and I slide my hand into hers.
“How many marks?” I ask softly. She shakes her head, and I know that’s not a good sign. I knew her tears could only be for one reason.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her, and her blue eyes look up at me.
“Says you, who got twelve marks,” she replies sarcastically, forgoing the whisper. Her voice echoes around the quiet room. I cringe from the volume, but I know she didn’t mean it. She’s just worried about her dads’ reaction to her own marks.
I realise that the other students must have heard as the whispers start instantly. I feel myself getting warm from all the eyes on me. Great, well everyone knows now. I lift my eyes to the crowd of students, and everyone is staring with shocked and disbelieving faces.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Kenzie. I got two marks, just two,” Kelly says quietly, pulling my attention from the crowd. I squeeze her hand. I go to tell her that it will be okay, when I see three robed figures walking towards us.
They are all different heights, and their faces are hidden under their different-coloured cloaks, but I know who they are from the symbols on their clothing, the three headmasters of the school. I remember my older brother telling me about them, about how strict they all are, about how everyone in the school is afraid of their power, including the other teachers. The three of them stop in front of us on the stage, and the one with the green cloak speaks, his voice loud and deep.
“We welcome our new marked to our academy,” the man in the green says and takes a pause as everyone claps.
“Every year we welcome our new marked, the new generation to carry on our gifts. We will talk to every student privately and assign them their student guides for the first year as the others continue to come in,” the red cloaked man adds. I watch as he pulls out a tablet and switches it on.
“Mackenzie Crowe, please come with me,” the man in the green cloak says, turning to face me, but I still can’t see his face under the hood.
“Mackenzie’s guide will be Easton Black,” the man in the red cloak says, as he reads from a list from his large tablet. I’m too in shock from hearing that familiar name to question why I’m going first, instead of the others who were sitting waiting.
My eyes find a very familiar pair in the first two rows of students, as East stands up and pulls his hood down. Hazel eyes and soft-looking brown hair with blond highlights; his hair is messy and long, but pulled away from his face. He doesn’t need to do much to his hair, and it still looks ridiculously gorgeous, as always. His lips turn up into a sexy smile that shows off the dimples I remember so fondly.
My brother’s best friend, Easton Black, was always around when we were younger. He is also the boy I’ve had a crush on since I was thirteen, and he has never noticed me at all.
He looks every bit as sexy as I remember.
“Sexy East is your guide,” Kelly whispers, and I give her a look that says ‘shut up’, and she smiles for a second. I haven’t seen him in two years, not since he came here. Easton walks over to me at the same time I stand up. Neither of us speaks as we follow the man in the green cloak out of the room through a door near the stage. We come into another corridor with four wooden doors. The man opens the first door to the left and walks in.
“Please wait outside, Mr. Black,” the man says and Easton nods, moving to stand near the wall, but his eyes stay on mine.
“Good luck, Kenzie,” Easton says, his first words to me. Easton’s voice is made for seduction. Growing up, he always had a way with girls because of his good looks and deep voice. His voice sends shivers through me that I can’t blame on being cold.
I walk into the small room and pull the door shut behind me. The room has a big, wooden desk and two seats on each side. There are two small bookcases full of books and some green curtains on the small window in the room. I take my seat, as the cloaked man pulls his hood down and moves to his chair behind the desk. The man is older than I expected from his voice, with short, grey hair and a full, grey beard. I would guess his age at around fifty.
“I’m Mr. Lockhart, one of the three headteachers at the academy. Mr. Daniels told me of your marks that you received today. I believe he saw the twelfth?” he says.
“Yes,” I say, and he nods at me.
“May I see it?” he asks, already standing up, leaving me with not much choice but to show him the mark as he walks around the desk.
“Sure,” I reply, lifting my hair. Mr. Lockhart moves behind my chair, and the room seems to stay still for a long time as he stares at my mark. I wait quietly until he moves back to his seat and leans back in shock.
“I am lost for words, Miss Crowe. I’m sure you know that no marked has been gifted with the twelfth mark in years. The only reason we know it exist
s, is because it is in the Book of Marks,” he says. I remember one of my dads telling me about the Book of Marks; a large book bound in leather and printed on vellum. A book with just twelve thick pages, each with a different mark on it. The book is thousands of years old, and it’s believed that it came from Ariziadia, like the water in the cave under the academy.
“Does the book say what the mark does? What my power is?” I ask him, but I think I know the answer.
“Unfortunately, the book does not tell us what the powers of the marks are. It only shows us the design,” he answers, picking up his glasses from the table. I don’t say a word as he opens a book and pulls out a blank timetable. He quickly pencils in classes across the week. “These are your eleven classes. I have split them over the course of the week for you, but I’m afraid you will not get much time off other than Sunday.”
“Eleven classes?” I say, my voice a mixture of anger and disbelief. I can’t do that many. I’m suddenly wishing I only got one mark. At least, I’d only have to take one class.
“Yes, you will need to take all eleven. We will split them into two classes a day in the week and just one on Saturday,” he says writing down a copy of this unfair plan of his on some paper in front of him. “I’m afraid you will not get to pick any elective classes either, due to already having to take all eleven of the mark classes.”
“That’s—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“Necessary for you to learn how to control all your powers. Having so many mark powers will be a challenge for you, and you do not want to lose control,” he tells me.
I think on the stories I’ve heard about powerful marked that lost control . . . they always ended up dead. The bedtime stories for marked children were never pretty, but neither were the stories in the book of human fairy tales aunt Laura gave me. The only difference is, our bedtime stories were true.
“How long are each of the classes?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“Three and a half hours,” he answers. I groan, sliding down in my seat.
You have got to be kidding me.
Chapter 3
Kenzie
I let my towel drop and gaze at my reflection in the full-length mirror, more specifically at the markings that now cover my body. I’ve always wondered where my markings would appear, how many I’d have, and what they’d look like on my skin. I can’t help but think of them being more than just pretty ink on my skin. The meaning behind all of the symbols is clear. From the fire and water symbols on my wrists, to the earth and air symbols on my ankles. On my thighs on one side is pain, and on the other is healing. My hip bones, one is technomancy, the other transmutation. On my ribs is the symbol for protection, right under my heart on the left side.
I turn around and look over my shoulder, looking at the symbols on my back. Divination near the top, spirit on the base of my spine. Mark number twelve is on my neck, the one nobody knows about; I’m not even sure what to call it. I sigh and pick my towel up from the floor, wrapping it around myself. A knock hits the door, startling me, so I almost drop my towel again.
“Kenzie?” I hear Kelly’s soft-spoken voice calling.
“Yeah?”
“Are you gonna take all day? I wanted a shower and breakfast starts in ten minutes.” I cast a guilty look between the shower and the door. She’d have luck getting any more hot water out of there.
“Can you have one later? I’m almost done, but I wanna go get food now. I’m starving,” I call back through the door. I can see her eyes rolling in my mind as she sighs loudly and dramatically.
“Fine, Kenzie. But, if I get sat next to a hottie, and he thinks I’m a weird, non-showering hobo, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair,” I call back. I quickly pull on some clothes and towel dry my wet hair, forgoing makeup. I make my way back out into the room where Kelly is just brushing her own hair, already dressed and ready to go. She’s looking stylishly dressed, and her makeup is perfectly done. Non-showering hobo my ass.
“You only said you wanted a shower to hurry me up, didn’t you,” I accuse.
“Maybe . . . but it worked, right?” she replies with a smirk, clearly much cheerier today.
“What classes do you have today?” I ask, slipping my shoes on.
“Just the one. I haven’t had the chance to sign up for electives yet, and I only have two required classes,” she says, her voice losing its previously cheery tone.
“Hey, it’s okay, at least you can pick some fun electives! I’ve got eleven classes of boring,” I answer.
“Yeah, I guess,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine.
“Well, you can just pick whatever electives the hot guys sign up for, is that not a great idea? Suss out your boyfriend options early?”
“Ugh, I don’t think I’ll find a boyfriend here, Kenzie. Who would want me, a weak two-powered marked?”
I roll my eyes. Pity parties were not going to help her out of this funk. “Kelly, you’re beautiful, kind, smart, and have boobs for days,” I say gesturing to her sizeable chest area. “I’m sure you will have no troubles finding as many boyfriends as you’d like.” She smiles deviously.
“What if I wanted ten?” she asks, the grin growing wider.
“Then, you get yourself ten. Although, I don’t know what you’d do with ten . . . what would they do . . . just stand around you in a giant circle?” I wink at her, and then pull a face. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open as she picks up on my undertone.
“Kenzie!” she spits out.
“What? What do you think marked woman are doing with their multiple husbands behind closed doors, playing scrabble?” I chuckle at her mortified expression. Then her expression turns calculating, a smile takes over her face.
“I have two dads, you had four. Whose mum had a circle going?” she laughs, as my own face mirrors her previous mortified look. Not what I want to picture. I shudder.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough talk about man circles for now.”
“Yes! Does that mean breakfast?” she asks, clearly as excited by the prospect of food as I am.
“Let’s pray there is bacon,” I mumble back.
We make our way out of our room, locking it behind us. I’m so glad I have Kelly as my roommate. It would have sucked to have been stuck with some bitch for three years. Instead, I get my best friend. We race down the steps of the dorm building and out into the chilly, morning air. I instantly regret forgoing a jacket. Hell, even one of the stupid ceremony robes would be great right now. It’s fucking freezing.
We make our way through the courtyard and towards the main building, where the dining hall is located. Breakfast is served between 7:30am-9:30am daily, and we were going to be some of the first there at this rate, but fuck it, I’m starving. Neither of us could bring ourselves to eat last night, so it only makes sense we’re both eager to make our way to breakfast this morning. We walk through the already open front doors, and turn left towards the dining hall. A quick walk down a corridor, and we’re there.
There are tables set to one side covered in hot plates with food on them, and trays, plates, and cutlery at the start. Despite being here bright and early, there is already a line. We walk across the room and join the orderly queue. I’m about to say something when I notice a petite, blonde girl, sashay across the room, and directly to the front of the queue. At just a look from the girl, the guy in the front just backs away and lets her in without a word.
“Oh no,” I mutter, giving Kelly the look.
“Guess we spotted the bitchy girl nice and early,” Kelly mutters.
“Hey, let’s not judge too quickly. Maybe she just has an aversion to queuing. I say we suss her out first,” I reply.
Hearing a deep, throaty chuckle behind me, I turn around to spot Easton standing there. His messy hair looking like he just woke up perfect.
“Hey, East,” I say softly, trying not to drool. Men shouldn’t be that attractive. Kelly’s eyes widen, and she turns around, too. Every girl crushed o
n Easton back in our small town, Kelly included. Although, I’d wager my crush was far more intense and embarrassing. The fact he was always in my house didn’t help.
“She is,” he says simply, breaking my train of thought.
“Who is what?” I ask confused.
“The bitchy girl. That girl has claws,” he answers.
“I knew it,” Kelly mutters.
“Really, what did she do to you?” I ask.
“She asked me out,” he answers, smirking.
“And, that makes her a bitch?”
“No. But, when I said no, she decided to tell the girl I used to be interested in, that I was sleeping with her. Stella is just like that. If you’re not serving her needs, your only use to her is for a fuck, or she will make your life hell.” He laughs, but it’s hollow. I frown, both mad at Stella for her actions, and super happy that it seems like Easton doesn’t currently have a girlfriend. What can I say? I’m petty like that.
We reach the front of the queue, and I waste no time piling my plate with food. Fuck, I’m starving. I catch a bemused look on Easton’s face as I turn to find a table.
“What?” I ask him.
“You’re gonna eat all of that?” he questions.
“Maybe seconds too, ya know, if I feel like it.”
“You never used to eat that much as a kid,” he says.
“Like you ever noticed me,” I mumble.
“Should we sit over there,” Kelly interrupts, gesturing to the furthest table, the one out of the way of everyone else. Typical Kelly.
“No, we’re gonna sit there,” I answer, nodding my head in the direction of the table at the centre of the room.
“What?” Kelly snaps in shock.
“Come on, Kells,” I say in my most cheery voice. I will not let her hide herself away. We take seats around the table, and I’m pleasantly surprised when Easton joins us.
“What classes have you girls got today?” he asks around a mouthful of toast.
