by Megan Curd
“If that’s the case, you better have something super skimpy next week, otherwise I’m lodging a complaint.”
“Is there a place to do that?”
“There has to be; Jax complains all the time. Why would he spend that much time doing something so pointless if no one listened to him?”
I snorted. “Because he thinks everyone listens to him.”
We both fell into fits of laughter for a few minutes, and even when we thought it had passed, we looked at each other once more and the giggles came right back. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed a normal moment with a friend. It felt good.
Sari held a hand to her side. “I’ve got a stitch from laughing so hard.” She pushed a button on the side of her black watch, and the time illuminated above it in red digital numbers for everyone to see. They flashed brightly for a few seconds before they were sucked back into the watch. “It’s six forty-five. If we want breakfast, we’d better head out pretty quick.”
“I think Alice is still in the shower.”
“It’s okay. I checked her file on the computer, and it shows she isn’t on the same timetable we are. She can pretty much come and go as she pleases.”
“Lucky duck,” I muttered.
“Tell me about it. Say, what’s with you having Jax’s journal?” She motioned to the well-worn book on my nightstand.
“Oh, it’s not his; it’s one of Riggs’s, I guess.” I wasn’t particularly interested in recanting last night’s little adventure with her. “He said I should read it.”
“No, that’s definitely Jax’s,” she said slowly. “I’ve seen him writing in one just like it on more than one occasion.”
It seemed stupid to point out it was possible there was more than one journal with the same exterior, so I let it go. “I dunno. Let’s head out. What’s for breakfast today?”
That was all the prodding she needed. She led me out of the room and toward the commons, reciting the entire menu to me along the way.
***
When Sari said it was a commons, I had imagined a mess hall scenario, complete with hundreds of other people eating. I was wrong. Nothing but the best here in our little slice of heaven. Or was it hell? I hadn’t yet decided.
I should have been tipped off when I saw the massive rounded entryway and crystal chandelier that glittered in the sunlight. The white marble floors were so polished I could see my tired reflection in them, and I made a mental note to try out some of the makeup in the bathroom before I left our dorm next time. The seemingly endless array of splendors was overwhelming. A man who wanted the best of everything had erected this place; of course the dining hall would fill that requirement.
We walked into what felt like a Victorian dining room. There were maybe twenty of us, tops. The room had high ceilings with a striking combination of stenciled bronze and gilt roundels. The long redwood table stretched almost the length of the room with a magnificent red and gold cloth draped over the top to complement the other decorations. Real crimson candles lined the center of the table in golden holsters, and faux gold ivy was wrapped around the candlestick holders.
Behind the head of the table was a massive brick fireplace with a dark wooden mantle, along which awards and plaques hung. My only guess was that they were Riggs’s bragging rights from another lifetime.
The food had been lain out before we arrived, and students passed plate after plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and fruit to one another. I scanned the room while Asher—the boy I’d seen with Riggs—chattered non-stop, oblivious to my lack of interest.
“What do you think about the invasion, Avery?”
Sari kicked my leg under the table to bring me back to earth.
I searched for words. “Oh, it was pretty scary. Why would they want to bother us?”
“I’ll tell you why,” Asher said. He leaned in conspiratorially and looked to where Riggs sat at the head of the table, chatting animatedly with Xander. “We can change the course of the world. Us.” He wiggled a finger around our group, his eyes solemn and convicting. “Riggs knows that, and it’s why he’s protecting us.”
Both Sari and Asher’s twin brother rolled their eyes.
“Asher, get a grip on reality,” he said, then turned to me. “I’m Evan, by the way. Reluctantly related to Asher, if you hadn’t noticed. Asher’s our village conspiracy theorist. He thinks Riggs is saving us from certain doom.”
“He is!” Asher exclaimed, raising his arms and slopping a spoonful of oatmeal down the front of his white uniform.
His outfit was similar to Sari’s, except not skin tight, thankfully. In fact, my uniform was the only one that deviated from what seemed to be the norm—skin-tight white pants and long-sleeve shirts for the girls and looser fitting, more casual white pants and cashmere half-zipper sweaters for the guys. I wondered why I didn’t fit in. It felt it was meant to make me different, make me stand out. I didn’t like it.
“Way to go, Asher,” chastised Evan. “You better get going if you want to be able to change and get back in time for first class.”
Asher sighed and ran a hand through his thick, wavy black hair. “Save me a seat,” he told Evan as he stood and pushed his chair back underneath the table. Instead of leaving, though, he stood at attention facing Riggs and waited to be acknowledged.
Riggs smiled as the rest of us watched Asher’s silent signal. “Mr. Tertia, may I help you?”
Asher’s body was stiff and straight, his hands along his sides in tight fists. “I request permission to be excused, sir.”
“And what for?” Riggs glanced towards Asher’s half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. “You haven’t eaten much. You may regret that later.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I spilled some on my uniform and need to change.”
Riggs nodded and waved a hand. “Do what you need to do. I expect you clean and on time to your first class.”
“Of course, sir.”
He about-faced and exited the dining hall. No one spoke, but smirks passed between students.
“What was that about?” I directed my question at Sari, but she wasn’t the one who answered.
“Oh, Asher has a man-crush on Riggs. He thinks Riggs is God’s gift to the world,” said a brown-haired girl who sat beside Evan. The entire breakfast they’d shared touches and glances that made me think they were more than friends. Even now Evan nudged her, and she returned the favor, probably a bit harder than he expected. Her eyes widened and her lips puckered to the side. “Oh stop it, Evan. Avery’s new, not blind. Anyone can see your brother is a nutbag.”
“I have no idea how I shared a confined space with him for nine months,” he admitted between bites of oatmeal.
“I have no idea how two people who look exactly the same can be so different,” added the girl. “Glad I got the normal one.”
Sari snorted. “Hell will freeze over before someone dates Asher.”
“It’s a likely scenario,” agreed Evan. His dark eyes were kind. I returned the smile he extended like a handshake.
I scanned the room for what felt like the hundredth time for the same person I didn’t want to see. Even still, my stomach seemed to be cart-wheeling from wondering where he was. “Why’s Jaxon not eating with us?”
“Oh, he has better things to do,” said Evan darkly. Was there an underlying issue between them? “He’s too good to eat with us. He gets his food delivered to his lab.”
“His lab?”
“Yeah, he’s Riggs’s little protégé.”
“What do you mean?”
Sari seemed uncomfortable. She twisted in her seat as though she wanted to pull an Asher and leave. She pushed her eggs and hash browns into a pile in the middle of her plate and lined them with her sausage links. Had she eaten any of her food? Suddenly I wondered if mine wasn’t the only appetite disturbed by things going on under the cheery surface of this family-like façade.
“Ah, Jax is a chip right off the old man’s block. Riggs is a scientist,” Evan said with air quote
s. “Riggs trained Jax to be an alchemist and God knows what else. He doesn’t have any natural talent. He’s been taught his abilities by textbooks.”
For some reason, I felt the need to defend Jaxon. “Well, obviously he has talent to learn something as complex as alchemy.”
He snorted. “Anyone can cook from a recipe on a piece of paper. Anyone could be an alchemist by reading the texts. You and I, we’re different, born with talent. It’s in our genes.”
Sari stiffened beside me. Evan probably didn’t see her as a legitimate talent, either.
I put my arm around her. “Everyone here contributes in their own way.”
“Some of us are just contributing on a larger scale,” he said firmly.
Sari shook her head. “If by larger scale you mean your ego being out of control, you’re right. Just because you can manipulate fire does not mean the sun rises and falls with your farts.”
We all burst out laughing, and Evan turned a brilliant shade of crimson. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, then pushed away from the table, the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. As he stomped off, everyone’s eyes followed.
He got as far as the grand archway leading to the foyer before he seemed to run into an invisible electric fence. He convulsed in place. I cringed as he fell to the ground and his ankle bent unnaturally with a sickening crunch. His body twitched and spasmed, like a grotesque marionette being jerked around by its strings. He finally stilled, leaving the rest of the room silent.
All of us stared at him lying on the floor unconscious. One by one, everyone went back to eating and the rise of conversation resumed. The girl he’d been flirting with sat silently, tears streaming down her face, but she didn’t move.
I was horrified.
“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” I whispered to Sari.
She gave me a quick head shake before returning to her food. What was wrong with these people? Why were they so scared?
“Xander, please take the second Mr. Tertia to your medical wing,” I heard Riggs say. “He may need a cast for that ankle. It sounded gruesome.”
I watched Xander nod and get up from the table, while Riggs never looked away from his food.
Sari leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone. “That’s why you ask to be excused. You don’t have to do it as pompously as Asher, but you’ve got to give respect where respect is due. Otherwise, Riggs will take it from you.”
I had a feeling he would take a lot more than respect from us if he could manage it. The injustice of it all made me furious. I clamped my hands into fists and slammed the table. The delicate china and silverware rattled around me, and a lit candle fell from its holster onto the expensive tablecloth, igniting it into flames.
People yelled and pushed away from the table. Sari grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me away from the blaze, the heat making my eyes water. I glanced down the table to see Riggs watching in amusement. He waved his hand lazily in the direction of the fire. “Care to clean up your mess, Miss Pike?”
The flames were spreading down the length of the table, consuming the over-lacquered ivy. Flames popped and crackled each time the fire reached a new piece of ivy. The odor of burnt plastic and paint hung heavy in the air.
Sari grabbed the cup of orange juice still sitting at her place and tossed it over the flames. As she did, Evan’s girlfriend lifted her hands, and her green eyes narrowed in concentration. The orange juice slowed to hover like an orange cloud. She thrust her hands apart and to her sides with her palms open wide as though she was conducting a silent symphony.
The orange juice doubled, tripled, quadrupled in mass to expand over the entire burning surface. With a final gesture, she struck the table’s edge with her palms and let out a whoop. The liquid plummeted onto the table like a torrential downpour and snuffed out the fire. Smoke hissed and sizzled as the juice quelled the flames.
Patches of gold and crimson still lingered in the fabric, but it was mainly blackened ash. Portions had melted right into the wood, which was also charred and probably ruined beyond repair. My nostrils burned with the odor of burnt plastic, fabric, and food.
Riggs’s voice shredded the silence. “Well done, Kloey.”
She held her gaze to the ground and put her hands behind her back as though she were at parade rest. “Thank you, sir.”
His tone was bored, but I wondered if he was saving his wrath for someone else.
Me.
WHILE THE FLAMES consumed Riggs’s expensive display of power, he had sat placidly at the head of the table. Only now did he slowly push away from his place setting. Xander sat silently in his seat and watched the debacle unfold. Riggs cracked his knuckles as he walked toward Kloey. “You’ve obviously been paying attention to your mentors.”
“I’m trying, sir.”
“Well, I’m impressed,” he said, and it sounded genuine. “You may go to your first class. Thank you for salvaging what you could of my belongings with your abilities. The gesture will be noted.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and I saw her shiver under his touch. Was he as cold to the touch as his words were, or did he incite that much fear in all his students?
She hurried from the dining room just short of breaking into a run.
Riggs glanced at the remaining students. Suddenly his kind mask broke into a thousand pieces as he snarled. “Why are you all still here? Go! You have classes to attend!”
I made for the door, but his voice rang out above the exodus of students. “Miss Pike,” he said, saccharine sweet, “you stay with me. I’m your mentor, remember?”
I stiffened. Part of me knew better than to keep my back exposed. I didn’t know what he was capable of. After a few heartbeats, I sighed and turned to face him.
He was inches from me.
“Are you afraid, Avery Pike?”
I jutted my chin upward in defiance. “No.”
“You should be.”
Sari pushed between us, frantic. “Mr. Riggs, let me take Avery to the first class. She can’t control her abilities yet, so maybe watching the others will help her.”
I had to give it to her. Sari was fearless. Even with Riggs bearing down on both of us, she stood there with her hand on his chest, keeping him at bay. She spoke again, this time more urgently. “Sir, let me help.”
Riggs pulled his gaze from me and focused on Sari. He pushed her hand away and adjusted his vest and tie, losing the crazed look he possessed moments before. “Fine,” he said as he stalked back to his chair and retrieved his long-tailed overcoat. “Fine. Miss Pike, I want you in my office after the class.”
“Of course, Mr. Riggs.”
Sari guided me out of the dining room before he could change his mind. As we reached the foyer, I glanced back.
Riggs stood there watching our retreat with his hands balled into fists and Xander’s hand resting on his shoulder. Was that a tear on Riggs’s cheek?
Xander whispered something in his ear, and then Riggs shoved him away. I shrugged at Xander, and he waved me off.
“Stop staring,” Sari hissed as she pulled me onward.
“Something’s wrong.”
“Of course something’s wrong. This whole place is wrong. Now come on.”
I watched her eyes rove the corridor. “Why’d you step in like that?”
“Because I was pretty sure Riggs wouldn’t murder me. He doesn’t want to hurt you; he wants you scared enough to cooperate.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
She chuckled darkly as we turned a corner. “Then I guess we’re both screwed. Come on. Let’s get to class before you accidentally burn this place to the ground.”
Part of me wished I could.
She led me into a room in the same hallway as the library. “Here we go.”
The giant room was nearly empty. The dark wooden floors, walls, and open rafters made it feel like a barn, but there was nothing rustic about it. It was exquisite. The far wall was covered by one gigantic rusted cog connected to a
bunch of smaller gears. In bold black letters, the phrase Embrace the past, embark into the future were stenciled across it. Below the words were designs and graffiti that gave me the impression these cogs were taken from other places. On one of the gears someone had scrawled Steam is the past. Long live electricity!
I contemplated how bright our world might be if Riggs were in charge, or if it would all end up as charred and unusable as the rest of the world had apparently become. Could the soil and water recover from such a destructive past? Probably not anytime soon.
Sari tugged at my elbow. “Are you daydreaming? Come on, you’re blocking the way in.”
I followed her confident stride into a small room in the corner.
“This is my office,” she said proudly as she waved her arm around the space. “What do you think?”
What space wasn’t overrun by computer monitors, wiring, and keyboards was filled with coffee mugs, crossword puzzles, and posters. One poster depicted a man screaming into a microphone with his band mates behind him. Another was pop art of someone I’d never seen before. Post cards littered a corner of the room with slogans like Miss you in Paris and We’re in Tallahassee and all you get is this postcard. A small mattress was pushed into the other corner, a pile of blankets sitting on top. Pictures of Sari with people I’d never met were taped above the mattress. This glimpse into her world gave me so much more insight as to who she was.
“I think you could fit a small sticker right there if you tried.” I pointed to a bare spot of wall by a filing cabinet. “Maybe a price tag or something.”
She nodded with a grin. “Good idea. We’ll have to go out to the abandoned stores in the dome and see if we can find any good ones.”
The old mattress springs creaked as I sat down. “So this is where you work your magic, huh?”
“Indeed it is,” she said as she wiggled a mouse around on the table. All of the monitors sprang to life. “I can watch everyone on one of three hundred thirty seven different cameras, and I’m sure those are only the ones Riggs lets me use. Right now though, we’re going to measure the brain waves of the elementalists while they practice. I was wondering if it’d help you to see them in action.”
