by Cutter, Leah
"I danced as a kid," Sally told him. "Ballet. Tap. Jazz in college. So I've always danced."
Peter nodded. It explained why she was such a good dancer and why she learned new steps so quickly.
"How about you?" she asked.
"I like the spontaneity of it, the personal style," Peter said.
Sally gave him a confused look.
"I—I did martial arts as a kid," Peter said. It was the closest he could come to describing warrior training. "I liked the way it felt, being precise with my body and how it moved. But that was all—I don't know. So serious. It wasn't for fun. The moves were so—prescribed."
"That explains a lot, you know," Sally said.
Peter looked at her. She didn't appear to be making a joke.
"It's like you've gone to the opposite extreme with your dancing," she explained seriously. "You're so loose, shuffling your feet, swaying, doing those free-form circles. Sometimes you snap a perfect turn, but you're like the opposite of precise. Maybe you should try to meld the parts together, sometime."
Peter couldn't help the shudder he gave. "I don't see how," was all he said. Intermixing his raven warrior training, all those hard blocks and kicks, with the softer, gentler, flow of Lindy Hop, just didn't seem right. He didn't want to bring Ravens' Hall any closer to his current life than it already was.
Peter shook his head and squeezed Sally's hand. He needed to stay here, in the present, and not get lost in the past. "So what other styles of dance do you do?" he asked as they stopped for the light.
Sally shook her head. "I really don't. It—"
"Hey! It's Mr. and Mrs. Petie-Peter!"
Peter sighed and turned.
Jesse stood outside the store on the corner, by himself this time. He still wore the same dirty clothes and carried the same crumpled cardboard sign.
"Jesse," Peter said with a sigh. He knew he shouldn't have stopped looking for him.
"I know, I know, it ain't safe for me here. Is it safe for her?"
Peter bit his lips together and squeezed Sally's hand. It wasn't. And he should warn her away as well, instead of drawing her closer to his heart. He glanced at Sally. She merely looked confused, not concerned.
"I get it, Petie," Jesse said. He folded his sign in half, then tucked it under his arm. "I'll be your honor guard."
"No," Peter said immediately, horrified at the suggestion. Jesse was homeless and alone. He didn't have much honor left.
"Your wing man?" Jesse teased.
"Just go away," Peter said. "Come on," he added to Sally, turning back toward the street as the light turned green.
Cat, Cai warned.
Across the street, Tamara stood, a smug smile on her face as she took in Peter, Sally, and Jesse. She wore a tight black leather jacket that showed off her ample curves, her red hair a flowing halo around her head—the perfect seductress, drawing men to their doom.
A heavy hand landed on Peter's shoulder, making him jump.
"That's who you need protection from?" Jesse asked, his rank breath cascading down Peter's shoulder as he spoke directly in Peter's ear. "Ain't she somethin'."
"Stay away from her," Peter warned, shrugging off Jesse's hand.
Tamara turned and preceded them down the street.
After they crossed, Peter stopped on the far street corner, where Tamara had stood, her very human perfume still lingering. "She's not what she seems to be," he said urgently to Jesse, who had followed them. "Please, Jesse. Don't go near her."
"But you are, right? To that fancy dance hall of yours?"
Peter shrugged. He couldn't give up dancing. He just couldn't. It was the closest thing to flying that he knew as a human.
"I get it," Jesse said. He nodded to both of them, then marched down the sidewalk after Tamara.
Helplessly, Peter turned toward Sally.
"Bad breakup?"
"We only had one date," Peter assured her. "And now she's found out where I live."
"She hasn't threatened you, has she?" Sally asked, concerned.
"No," Peter said automatically. "Just—be careful around her."
"You too," Sally said.
They walked down the street, silence wrapped around them.
Outside the door to the dance hall, Jesse stood at full attention, looking like a vet who'd lost his way, who was still in the war, on guard against unseen threats.
Or like a raven warrior, protecting his own.
Peter sighed and shook his head, holding open the door for Sally.
Jesse had no idea what he was playing at, what he was supposedly protecting Peter from.
Peter hoped Jesse left before he found out.
Chapter Eight
Petie tried to eat after recitation class. Dinner that night was meatloaf—juicy and moist, not at all like his mom's—with crispy Tater Tots, some kind of creamed greens that weren't too bad 'cause they also had bacon, and chocolate pudding. Petie should have been shoveling it all in.
But it all tasted dirty, somehow.
Not like dirt, or insects, or ants, or any of those things Petie wasn't supposed to eat. No. Just—not right.
Normally dinner was loud, too, with dozens of different conversations about superheroes and video games, baseball versus soccer, but tonight it was quiet, almost like a study hall.
Before Petie could escape to his room, Prefect Aaron came into the cafeteria. The room stilled without him saying a word, his silver, hawk-like gaze peering into every corner.
"Boys, and girls, I am aware some of you were put off by this afternoon's recitation. But what is the first recitation? Stay hidden. Stay safe. All together now."
"Stay hidden. Stay safe," the students recited, the chorus dully spoken.
Petie felt trapped, and Cai stirred restlessly. What else could they say?
"So I don't need to remind you not to talk about this with anyone. What happens in Ravens' Hall, stays in Ravens' Hall."
At least a couple of the older boys chuckled at that. Petie couldn't quite smile, but he did start to relax, fiddling with the zipper on his hooded jacket.
"The only way to stay safe is to stay balanced, human and raven souls together, not fighting, not separate. Be true to each other, honor each other, and keep each other pure. Beware the half-breed."
Petie shivered. The cafeteria grew silent again, all the kids restrained and very still.
"Your classes for tomorrow will be printed tonight and slipped under your doors. Curfew will be extended three hours, until 11 p.m. Fly safe. Good night."
After the prefect left, the boys to Petie's right started talking about flying, going out that night. Petie didn't like flying at night, but Cai wanted to go: to soar and chase away the doubt from the day. He wished he could call his mom, but calls were limited, and besides, he wouldn't be able to tell her anything. She wasn't from the raven clan. He couldn't tell her anything about Cai or the recitations or anything else.
He could talk with his dad, but Dad was also the one who sent him here, who actually loved Ravens' Hall, despite the dangers.
When Petie bussed his dishes, bringing them to the conveyer belt that led to the kitchen, he saw many of the other kids had had the same problem he'd had, with heaps of food left on their plates, merely pushed around in a semblance of eating.
"Y'all better get in line early for breakfast," Jesse's voice drawled over Petie's shoulder. "I bet the food goes fast tomorrow."
Petie couldn't help but jump.
"Hey, it's just me," Jesse said, gently placing his hand on Petie's shoulder.
Petie looked up at Jesse. He suddenly wished Jesse were his brother, or somehow related, so he could have a hug. He settled for Jesse merely squeezing his shoulder.
Then Jesse jerked his head toward the door. "Yard?" he asked.
Petie nodded and pushed past Jesse, going down the long hall toward the back, in the opposite direction of the boys all streaming up the stairs, aiming to fly off the balconies of their rooms.
The yard w
as merely a strip of barren dirt between the school and the cliff, a cold, rocky place that only a sliver of sunlight could ever find.
But there were no first floor windows overlooking it, and no one else ever came out that way. Jesse liked it: it was private, close, and outdoors.
Petie and Jesse stepped into the cool twilight. Raucous caws echoed off the cliff above them. Petie shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie. Jesse wasn't wearing a jacket, just a denim work shirt that was too big for him, jeans, and sneakers.
They walked together to the edge of the yard, where the cliff curved around and met the man-made, white brick wall that grew out from the school. It smelled like wet rock and cold dirt. Nothing grew in the cracks between the bricks, no moss to soften the edges.
"That sure was something," Jesse finally said, reaching down for a white pebble, then flinging it like a skipping stone across the dirt so that it bounced four times over the ground.
"Yeah," Petie said warily. Could he talk about it with Jesse? That wasn't against the recitation, was it? Jesse was part of the raven clan, so he was safe. Right?
"Did you see—I just—I don't know," Jesse said, skipping another stone. This one went five times. He leaned down and picked up another rock, then passed it to Petie.
"Yeah," Petie agreed. He could only skip the stone three times.
"They wouldn't do something like that to one of us, right?" Jesse asked quietly.
Petie gulped cold air, his stomach suddenly unhappy with what little he'd eaten. He didn't know. Not for certain. But he suspected they might.
Cai agreed.
They had to be very, very careful.
"I mean, if they were coming for you, you could just fly away, right?" Jesse asked, skipping another stone, not looking at Petie.
Petie just watched his own hand, small and trembling, before he put it back in his pocket.
"That chickadee—that little bird, just couldn't fly away. Wasn't fast enough."
"Jesse," Petie said. He shook his head. "It's not that. What if—what if you couldn't fly away? Or didn't want to? Or didn't think you needed to?"
"Whatcha mean?"
"The—the Charms Room." Petie said. Was it breaking a recitation to tell Jesse about that? Petie hoped it didn't. However, it didn't matter. Petie had to warn his friend. "Did you have a charms class?"
Jesse nodded. "Couldn't really sense 'em."
"I can," Petie said. "There were a lot of charms there. Out, in the open. More than the prefect said."
Jesse was quiet, looking at the rock wall, plucking at the scratchy mortar between the stones. "So you're saying that flying away may not be good enough."
Petie shrugged. "May not be."
"Then you keep your eyes peeled for charms, and I'll watch your back," Jesse said with a brave grin. "Come on."
Jesse patted Petie on the back, slipping a cold rock down his shirt. "You're it!" Jesse yelled as he sprinted back toward the door of the school, shedding clothes as he ran, then leaping into the air.
Petie's breath caught as he watched his friend transform—a tall brown streak folding and darkening into a graceful black bird, arms and fingers elongating into feathers and wings, legs pulled up and bare toes and ankles becoming scaly and black.
They weren't supposed to just take off like that. There weren't any boxes for clothes or shoes out here, not like next to the front door.
Petie picked up Jesse's sneakers—they were really worn out. His shirt and pants weren't much better.
A pebble glanced off his shoulder. Jesse's raven soul wanted to play.
Petie grinned and waved, hurrying out of his own clothes, leaving both sets piled by the door before letting Cai free and leaping toward the air, the night winds and their secrets luring him on, his friend by his side.
Maybe it would all be okay.
* * *
The next class Petie had with Jesse was the following afternoon, a history class. When Petie had come the previous year with his parents, they'd gone to a history class together. It hadn't been like a class at all, but more like story hour at the library, with the prefect telling the most amazing tales about true raven warriors from the past: Pedrek, Aderyn, and others. Petie was looking forward to more stories, so he snagged two desks up front.
Jesse made a face at him, looking displeased, but still sat down beside him.
The room was similar to the recitations room, with a half-circle of tiered desks, but this room was smaller and it had wide windows showing the yard and the cliff.
While the other students shuffled in, Jesse bumped Petie's shoulder. "So, what do y'all see?"
Petie wasn't sure what Jesse meant. He looked around the room. What was he supposed to see?
"Anything special?" Jesse asked.
Now Petie understood. Jesse wanted to know if there were any charms in the room. Petie poked at Cai, asking him to help.
The color in the room slid away. Nearby objects grew fuzzy while things in the distance grew sharper.
When he looked around, small brown discs hanging in the center of every window caught his eye. "There," Petie croaked. He shook his head and came all the way back. "The windows."
With his human sight, Petie couldn't see anything there. Even when he tried looking at the windows, his eyes kept sliding off, going back toward the front of the room.
"Distraction charm," Petie whispered, trying to keep his eyes on the windows and failing. "We're not supposed to look out the windows, but to pay attention in the classroom."
When Petie looked back at Jesse, his eyes were all black. Then Jesse blinked, and his gray-green human eyes returned. "Can't see 'em, but I suspect you're right." He held up his hand and Petie gave it a smacking high five.
"You just keep your eyes out for those charms and I'll keep watching your back," Jesse said.
Petie grinned, but before he could say anything, the prefect walked in and called for everyone's attention.
Maybe the next ten days away from home wouldn't be too bad if they could look out for each other this way.
* * *
Petie hung back in the hallway, trying to be interested in the long scroll hanging there. It looked Chinese or Japanese, a black-and-white watercolor painting of misty pine trees and ravens huddled together, lonely and cold.
But the hall was emptying fast. All the other kids had gone to their classes and Petie didn't want to be late. So, dragging his feet, he made his way to the solid, purple-red door of the Warrior Room.
Everyone except Prefect Kitridge was there and waiting, barefoot and ready. They all turned when Petie walked in, then turned away.
Except the two troublemakers. They continued to stare. They wore sport shirts in neon orange and blue that hung down almost to their knees and pants that buckled around their hips.
Petie quickly sat and then slowly started taking off his shoes, reasoning it was better if his back was against a wall so he couldn't be surrounded.
Cai disagreed. It felt too boxed in there.
Petie finished storing his shoes and socks before he did as Cai wanted. He tried to avoid the two and walked to the side, heading for the center of the room.
But as Petie passed the one with the shaved head, Chris, deliberately shoved Petie.
Petie remembered the lesson from the day before. He fell and rolled easily, shaking himself as he came back up, angry and ready to defend himself.
Some part of his brain was screaming at him, "No fighting!" But the rest of him, and Cai combined, were more than ready to battle.
"Come on, little man," Chris sneered. "Bring it."
Petie shook his head.
Cai cawed in frustration, but this part of Petie stayed in control. "You want to fight," he croaked out harshly, "you have to start it."
All he'd done so far was defend himself. And somehow, even in his enraged state, he knew that was essential.
Chris huffed up, bending over, his arms spread out. He looked terrifying, his face skeletal and sharp,
his hands like claws, every muscle bulging and his body whip-ready.
Petie still stood his ground, ready to be bowled over and come up, again and again.
"No fighting."
The words drenched Petie like a bucket of cold water. He came all the way back to himself, shivering. He unclenched his hands and brought his arms down.
Had he been in the same position as Chris? A mirror image, without even realizing it?
Chris shook himself and straightened as well. "Later," he mouthed.
Prefect Kitridge was immediately in front of the older boy, her face inches from his, one hand clenched in his shirt, raising him off the ground. "There will be no later," she hissed.
An expression of fear crossed over Chris' face quickly, then passed, and all that was left was a mask of indifference.
"I know your type," Prefect Kitridge snarled. "Y'all think you can get your way bullying others. But here, you can't. Anyone you try to bully, even the littlest girl, will stand up and fight, harder and meaner than you're used to." She shoved Chris away.
He stumbled, but didn't fall, didn't roll.
Petie could see that Chris' raven soul had helped keep him on his feet.
"I almost let you fight," Prefect Kitridge said, ignoring Chris' glare. "Just to see the look on your face when he beat you but good."
Petie gulped and took a step back when everyone suddenly stared at him. She really thought he could beat Chris? But Chris was older, bigger, and could probably fight a lot better.
Cai cawed softly, sending him a feeling of flying strongly against rough winds.
It wasn't just Petie, was it, who'd be fighting?
Petie put his shoulders back and stood up straighter, as if to say, "Bring it."
"The reason I didn't let y'all fight is that both parties will be punished, regardless of who starts it," she added, glaring now at Petie. "So just make sure it's worth it."
She suddenly stretched out her left hand, then clenched it and rolled her wrist.
"All right. Let's do some actual training."
Petie found himself staring at the crooked first finger on Kitridge's hand, wondering why it made him so uneasy.
Why it made Cai long desperately to fly far, far away.
