Chosen (9781742844657) (38 page)

‘Aristea, your imagination is so crazy!' Sterling told me, still laughing. I couldn't disagree with that, but I was quite sure that her moral compass was crazier. I recalled the horrifying moment when I'd worked out what she was doing in Aubrey's classroom.

Don't say boy, you make it sound like I'm hitting on a twelve-year-old…

She'd picked out another councillor, another
teacher
, to play with until Renatus noticed her. No boy at all. Oh, no,
Sterling
.

‘You said you wouldn't embarrass me!' I reminded her.

‘I wasn't trying to!' Sterling said defensively. Her flush was clearing, and I could see that she wasn't remotely abashed by how she'd behaved.

‘You were flirting with a
teacher
!' I covered my eyes with my free hand, remembering. ‘Couldn't you have at least picked someone our age? How old do you think he is?'

‘I don't know. Twenty-two or twenty-three?' Sterling followed me into the dining room, where we stopped just inside the door, off to the side to keep out of the way of others coming in.

‘You didn't notice that he was feeling uncomfortable?'

‘Aristea,' Sterling sighed, ‘
he's
not the point. The point is that if I hit on another student, Renatus will never hear about it, and the guy will probably assume I'm serious.' She rolled her eyes here, as if anyone making such an assumption would have to be a complete idiot. ‘Aubrey actually
is
my teacher so he probably won't try to pursue anything, but he's on the council with Renatus, so he might pass it on.'

‘I don't think they sit around and talk about which teenage students they think are cute,' I commented.

‘That doesn't matter,' Sterling insisted, taking my hand imploringly. ‘All Aubrey has to do is say, “Sterling was acting weird with me today, like, really friendly”, and if Renatus has an eye on me he'll become suspicious, and next time he sees me…'

I shook my head and smiled in spite of myself. Sterling trailed off, apparently glad to see my expression.

‘Sterling,' I said clearly, still smiling, ‘I don't think I'll ever understand you. You are utterly incomprehensible.'

‘Like you're so normal!' Sterling laughed, still holding my hand affectionately. Her laugh ended, and she added, ‘Like any of us here are normal.'

She was right. The whole point of the school, I'd reflected several times that day, was that the students were as far from normal as the White Elm could find. I mean, instead of going to English and Chemistry this afternoon, I'd be going to Swordplay and Scrying, and that was actually the most appropriate sort of learning a person like me could be doing.

‘Cool tat,' Xanthe commented to me, very quietly, as we sat in our Scrying class. I followed her gaze to Qasim, who had raised his left hand to accept Isao's candlestick. His sleeve had slipped back, and on his wrist was an obscure black marking, about five centimetres long. I'd never noticed it before. It was distinctly Middle Eastern in appearance, yet also not at all. I couldn't decide whether it was a symbol, like a letter or hieroglyph of sorts, or just a design he'd liked. I wanted to ask what it meant, but thought it best not to push my luck after what he'd seen me associated with this morning.

‘I'm getting a tattoo when I turn eighteen,' Xanthe informed me. ‘A dove, right here.' She reached across her chest to grasp her opposite shoulder, and tapped a spot on her shoulder blade. ‘What about you?'

Xanthe rarely spoke so casually with me, so I wasn't prepared with an answer.

‘Uh…I never really thought about it,' I said, honestly. ‘If I found a design I really liked, I'd probably get one. My sister would kill me, though.'

Angela was slightly adverse to tattoos, along with other non-traditional customs such as excess body piercing and internet dating, so such an act would probably not go down so well with her. There, she might finally draw a line and say no.

‘My mother doesn't know yet,' Xanthe said, shrugging. I could sense her getting bored already; she had withdrawn, emotionally, from our conversation, and if I'd bothered to respond, she would not have been interested, no matter what I'd had to say. So I didn't bother.

The lesson ended, and Qasim requested we try a new homework exercise.

‘For some of you, this may not be new at all,' he said. ‘Some of you will have accidentally divined visions or images from objects or people by touching.'

I recalled the images and feelings I'd received when Renatus had touched me, the night before my detentions started. Was that the sort of thing Qasim was talking about?

‘Physics tells us that whenever there is contact, there is a probability of transference. When somebody touches something, or manipulates something with magic, they leave something of themselves behind – a trace of their energy. Sometimes, very sensitive sorcerers are able to identify that trace and tune into the energy left behind, resulting in a scried image or short vision, depicting the event leading to the contact between the person and the object. Used consciously, this skill can be a valuable tool. With your roommates' permissions, please find something in your rooms that is
not
yours. Hold that item and allow yourself to see whatever comes to you. It may take a while before you note any real progress, because traces do fade over time and some traces are only very light. It is not easy. We will begin work on some techniques in our next lesson tomorrow, but in the meantime I would like for you all to attempt this on your own. Tomorrow we'll talk about what you come up with.'

This time, I was determined to have something to show for my efforts by the following day. I refused to be the disappointment again. Qasim seemed to have forgiven me, and I wanted it to stay that way. At lunch, when I told my friends about the exercise, they willingly handed me small items of theirs – Kendra pulled a pencil out of her hair, Sterling lent me her favourite hairclip and Hiroko unfastened her bracelet – but though I concentrated, no images or visions came to me.

‘It probably takes much practice,' Hiroko assured me. She clipped her bracelet back around her wrist. ‘Once you work out the trick, you will be very good at it, I am certain.'

‘Well, you don't really know that much about scrying though, do you?' Xanthe asked, with a slightly sympathetic smile. Hiroko's expression faltered and I felt immediately irritated by Xanthe's blatant rudeness.

‘Not very much,' Hiroko admitted. She forced a small smile at me and waited until Xanthe turned her attention away, and whispered, ‘You will learn the trick and be very good at it anyway.' 

Her confidence made me smile.

‘Do you ever wonder what boys talk about when there're no girls around?' Kendra asked, gazing across the dining hall. We all glanced over to where Addison was sitting with his group of male friends at the other end of the table, their usual spot. One of them must have said something funny, because all five of them laughed loudly. Addison was careful to share his time between his guy friends and us, so we never knew if he would be sitting with us or not. Kendra apparently did not like the arrangement at the moment.

‘No,' Sophia answered pointedly, picking the lid of her meat pie off with her fingernails.

‘They talk about sex,' Sterling informed us earnestly, ‘and cars and bikes. And they try to impress each other by telling big, exaggerated stories. I asked my stepbrother once.'

The rest of us didn't have big brothers (anymore, in my case) so we had to take her word for it.

Kendra had finished her lunch, so she helped herself to Sophia's. I briefly wondered whether Sophia ever had the chance to eat her own meal, undisturbed by her twin, and why both twins were the same size if Kendra usually ate both her own meal and half of her sister's.

‘Marcy went home last night,' Sophia mentioned, stealing back a chip that was halfway to her sister's mouth. ‘Her parents sent for her and she left last night after dinner with Elijah.'

‘So that's, how many?' Kendra wondered aloud. She silently counted on her fingers. ‘That's seven students gone so far.'

‘The White Elm's gone on damage control,' Sophia told us. ‘Anouk told Kenny and me that the council spent most of yesterday and last night visiting the families of those of us still here to rectify the situation. They don't want to lose any more students.'

Had they been to my house? Had someone visited Angela and neglected to invite me along?

‘I'm going to see if he wants to go for a walk,' Kendra said suddenly, standing and walking away and leaving nobody wondering who she was talking about. Well, I didn't
think
anybody was wondering.

‘To see if who wants to walk?' Sterling asked, looking up from the magazine she'd been engrossed in.

‘Her
boyfriend
,' Sophia clarified simply. Xanthe, sitting right beside her, whipped around suddenly, and I felt her energy shift.

‘He's her boyfriend?' she asked sharply. I was surprised by the barely contained waves of envy and dislike that suddenly radiated from her. ‘Why didn't she tell us?'

‘It's not official, I guess,' Sophia answered, shrugging dismissively. She acted as though she hadn't noticed Xanthe's change of mood, but I suspected that, sensitive as she was, she must have been pretending. Her next words made me less sure, because I'd figured her for a more tactful type. ‘Maybe he's not her boyfriend yet, but I don't think either of them is looking at anyone else. Do you?'

We all looked over just as Addison playfully pinched Kendra's waist and she swatted away his hand, beaming. Nobody bothered to answer Sophia's rhetorical question – the evidence was quite plain.

Xanthe said nothing else for the rest of the meal, although I seemed to be the only one to notice that she was silently fuming. I assumed she'd had her eye on Addison, too, and somehow had missed the weeks of intense flirting that had led to this point. Either that, or she'd thought her friendship with Kendra was close enough that she should have been informed earlier. Whichever way, she was hurt and annoyed.

I had only four detentions left by this point, and that realisation was actually more depressing than exciting as I made my way to Renatus's office that night.

Usually, the door just opened for me, but tonight it did not. I knocked, and still I was not answered. I waited for more than a minute, wondering whether I should sit at the door and see if he was running late, or just return to my dorm.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans and felt the scrunch of paper. I had thought to bring the list containing the names of my scrying class, because I hadn't meant to take it in the first place and I didn't know whether he needed it back.

I heard footsteps behind me, and turned my gaze down the hall. Renatus was heading towards me.

‘Thank you for waiting,' he said, striding past me and pushing the door open easily. I followed him inside, and the door closed behind me. ‘We have things to talk about.'

‘What do you mean?' I asked. The chair I'd used for the previous few nights had been returned to its usual position amongst the other chairs, so Renatus dragged it closer to his desk before indicating that I should occupy it. He sat down opposite me in his own chair and presented an envelope, showing me only the back.

‘Do you recognise this hand?' he asked as I read the return address. I felt my face light up as I saw my own address under the name
A. Byrne
.

‘That's from my sister.'

‘I thought so. We, also, received a letter today from an Angela Byrne, regarding you.'

‘That's her name,' I agreed, uncertain. His voice and her name didn't sound right together, from totally different corners of my life as they were. I watched as Renatus unfolded an A4 typed letter.

‘We can't match the handwriting because it's typed, but both envelopes had the same handwriting. Can you open yours and confirm for us that she sent both of these?'

I wasn't listening. I took the typed letter from his hand and started to read. It was short and tense.

To whom it may concern,

My sister Aristea is a student at your Academy. Through social networking sites I have been contacted by the parents and guardians of other students, presenting me with unsavoury information about the council and encouraging me to cancel my sister's enrolment. Though I cannot vouch for the validity of these claims, discussion of cover-ups and murders is rife among the online community of Academy parents. I am evidently eager to resolve these issues immediately in order to preserve Aristea's position in the school if that is what she sincerely prefers; however, if she feels any uncertainty at all, I would like to be notified so I can collect her at the earliest possible convenience. I have sent a letter to Aristea as well and expect that she will be able to make this decision independently and without interference.

Regards,
Angela Byrne

I frowned at the paper. Angela could not seriously be buying into this crap Egan Lake's mother was selling about Lisandro and the White Elm. I knew that other families had been contacted as well, and had pulled their children out of the Academy over the past few days, but surely
my
sister had more sense than those silly people. Renatus was watching me closely.

‘Do you think your sister wrote this?' he asked.

‘Definitely.'

I reached for the letter addressed to me and Renatus let me have it. I ripped it open, knowing with certainty that this was the accompanying letter to the first. Angela was worried for me. Whether she believed that garbage or not, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind, and until it was weeded out she'd be trapped with her protective guardian mentality.

Aristea,

I don't know how they tracked me down but some mums from your school have contacted me on Facebook. I logged in today and found a bunch of messages about the White Elm being responsible for the death of some girl that Lisandro was trying to save, some examples of supposed cover-ups and information on how to have “my child” removed from the White Elm's school.