Outside the room, a dim corridor stretched into the night. Chim moved quickly; Jey had to hurry to keep up. They walked past the closed doors of more sleeping chambers, then turned left.
Chim opened a door and held it for her. He waited, indicating she should go ahead.
Jey stopped walking. Something shifted in her chest. A thought rose, unbidden. Don’t go. Don’t go in.
“J114, get in here. And Chim, close that door.” The words sounded in the room beyond the door in a tone Jey knew well.
Jey didn’t move. Her heart was suddenly pounding. Her mouth had gone dry. Run. The thought quivered in her mind like a broken promise.
“Handler Nylan, you may need to help me here.” Chim spoke in a careful, liquid tone. He removed a long, slim wand from within his robes and held it in his hand. It looked innocuous, but Jey knew it was not. “I don’t think you want me to zap her right now.”
Handler Nylan appeared in the doorway, his jaw set with irritation. His dark eyes raked over Jey in fierce displeasure.
Run. The thought came again. Jey quivered, but she couldn’t move.
“Oh for the love of Priam.” The Handler strode forward, grabbed Jey’s arm, shoved her sleeve up beyond her elbow, and stabbed a needle into her flesh. He was so quick, so rough, Jey did not have time to react. As Nylan dipped the plunger, administering the injection, she saw the grid of silver scars on the soft skin of her inner elbow, arrayed like a small galaxy around the place where the needle pierced her skin. From all the shots.
Handler Nylan withdrew the needle and turned to Chim. “I can take it from here.” The orderly tucked his stunrod back into his robes, and withdrew.
Jey stood, rooted to her spot. Something was happening. Her mind was clearing. Bit by bit, thoughts rose, surfacing one after another, like popping bubbles. She blinked, trying to contain it all as the old, fierce, familiar anger bloomed through her.
Handler Nylan was watching her. There was a lamp on the wall. His heartless eyes looked out at her from dark sockets. “Now, J114, would you like to hear about your opportunity, or will it be tonight that we kill your little beast?”
Jey closed her eyes in a rush of horrible understanding. She remembered now. She remembered everything. This was why they didn’t let her bring her tessila with her. Tonight, he was a hostage, just as he had been so many times before. Not my tessila, she thought, Phril. His name is Phril. This time, I will remember. I will remember at least that.
◈
The opportunity was simple. Go to the house of a nobleman, break into his room, and change his mind on the subject of an upcoming vote that would be taken in the House of Laws. Then, on the way home, stop at a farm and make a young man fall out of love with a young woman. Jey received her assignments with the accompanying sense of relief that came whenever she realized she should be able to make it through her night’s work without killing anyone.
She received her instructions in grim silence. She had followed Nylan through the door Chim had opened. On the other side was a deployment block. One wall of the large room was covered in an elaborate weapon’s rack. A tall black horse with no white markings stood in front of a large double door, saddled and tied, straining a little on its rope to try to look back at them. The room was outfitted with all kinds of supplies, with everything from stout ropes and grappling hooks to elaborate metal and glass spectacles that would allow a person to see far into the distance. Jey could select anything she thought she might need and take it with her.
Now, Nylan turned to take a ring down from the wall. It seemed an innocuous thing, a slim band of pale silver. As she watched, Nylan gripped the ring in both hands and pulled, so the two halves separated. They came apart, but a line of blue energy continued to snake between the separated ends, dancing and writhing on the air. “The oath.” He held the separated bracelet towards her.
Furious with herself for never being able to find a way out of this, Jey stuck her hand between the two halves. The blue light danced on the dark fabric of her shirt. She spoke the words she so hated.
I will fulfill my given task. I will not deviate from my path. I will seek to avoid all people. If I am spoken to, I will not respond. I will make no attempt to communicate with others using any method, or share with any living creature anything I may know. Once I have left this place, I will not pursue any other task, desire, or goal other than that which I have been given until I have returned.
As Jey finished speaking, Nylan let his hands open. The two halves of the bracelet snapped back together, going solid around her wrist. Jey felt the shock as the spell took hold.
She glared at Nylan, making no attempt to hide the murder in her eyes. The irony of it was, it would be such a simple thing for her to kill him. It would take only a moment. They’d taught her the first half dozen ways to do it when she’d been ten years old.
Nylan seemed to sense what she was thinking. His grim face twitched into a dry smile. “You should thank me, J114. Tomorrow I intend to finish persuading Dean Balist not to move your graduation forward. That’s six whole months of life you have me to thank for. You might consider showing a little gratitude, for once.”
With a final, unpleasant twitch of his mouth, Nylan strode from the room, saying over his shoulder, “You have five hours.”
◈
Whenever there was a light visible out in the deployment block complex, Professor Liam found it difficult to sleep. Tonight was no exception. It was a warm night, and breezy. They were at the apex of the year. He had the windows open, his chamber was stuffy with the heat.
Although Liam had tried several times to get into bed, he was up now, pacing around his chamber. Outside, the moon was a high, bright, and sliver. The grounds of the faculty complex were full of swaying shadows. Of course, no matter how hard he stared at the cobbled lane that ran away from the academy to the gate that opened to the bridge that crossed the river—the only way off the island—he never saw anyone coming or going on these nights. They were too good for that, these girls. A fact he was partly to thank for.
He thought of the girl, Jey, whom he’d found holding a child’s slipper in the dorm cloister, standing there staring at it when she should have been in his classroom. Unlike many of the other professors, Liam called the girls by their letter, as their orderlies called them and they called themselves. Back when the academy had been full, there had been a fair bit of overlap. Now, it wasn’t much of a problem.
He was worried about Jey. She was showing symptoms, little stirrings, signs she was learning to fight the drugs, the flashnodes, the elaborate lie that was the academy’s daytime life. He knew the warnings, like everyone else who lived beside these girls, day to day. The cardinal gauge was simple: “The more the flashnodes affect them, the more dangerous they are.”
He’d seen Jey today – still as stone, bemused, staring at that slipper as if she’d never seen one before. What had happened before he’d arrived? He didn’t know – couldn’t ask her.
Every year, he saw it with the seniors. The year they were to turn 18, the flashnodes tripped them up more and more, making them pause, disorienting them, disrupting them, turning them into slim, delicate statues with blank faces.
And then, every fall, there was a ceremony. The dean spoke. The younger girls attended. Diplomas were presented. Those girls, the dangerous ones, graduated.
But there were never any parents in attendance. And afterwards, if the girls left, they did so by some means Liam had never been able to discover.
Liam didn’t know, precisely, what happened to them. But he had his suspicions. Because out beyond the bridge and the gates, off the island where the school stood in its isolated splendor, no graduate of Tessili Academy existed. As far as the world was concerned, this place didn’t exist at all.
And Liam wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the warning signs in Jey. A few days before, the Dean and Principle had come to his classroom asking if he thought Jey’s timeline should be “accelerated.” The questi
on had made Liam sick. The words these men used. The blandness of the Dean’s tone when he’d said, “We believe she might be a candidate for early graduation.”
He’d answered their questions, not expressing an opinion one way or another. After all, he wasn’t in a position to defend anyone.
Still, it weighed on him. It was June. Even if they didn’t accelerate her, Jey had six months.
Liam leaned on the windowsill, staring out in the windblown darkness. In the distance, one of the hounds let out its high, lonely bay. He was not an old man. Not yet. But nights like this, he felt he carried the years of seven grandfathers.
◈
The sound of rattling cutlery startled Jey from a deep sleep. She rolled over, disoriented, strangely convinced she was somewhere other than her own room.
But then she saw Elle looking down at her, dark braid hanging over her shoulder. A tray sat on the bedside table, bearing a breakfast so fresh it was still steaming. Elle was smiling. “Lucky you. They gave you a free day.” She tapped the silver medallion that hung in the place Jey’s daily schedule would normally reside on a board above her desk. “High Orderly Fras sent this tray. He says you’re to eat now, even if you go back to sleep after.”
Jey smiled up at her friend, mumbling her thanks. By Delari, she was tired. She had to struggle to sit up, to select a warm roll and crack it open. As the sweet smell of fresh bread wafted up into her nostrils she felt her stomach growl, clawing inside her like a caged tessila.
The thought made her look around the room in sudden, vague worry. She caught a glimmer of red out of the corner of her eye. The tip of a red tail dangled from a notch in her headboard. It was one of her tessila’s favorite places to hide when he was feeling sulky. He’s been sulky a lot lately. The thought formed, and made her go still. There was something about him, her tessila, that she should remember. He’s been …. He is ….
On the other side of the room, Kae was stepping into her slippers. “I think if one of us gets a free day, we should all get one.” Kae was a heavy sleeper and would miss breakfast daily if her roommates didn’t force her out of bed.
Jey picked up the small, rounded knife that lay on the tray and dipped it into a dish of spun butter. The butter melted as she spread it onto the warm bread.
Elle had been about to return to her own preparations, but she frowned, turning back to Jey. With one of her slim fingers, she pushed the sleeve of Jey’s night dress a little further up her arm, revealing a long, shallow gash. “Oh Jey,” the other girl said. “What happened?”
Jey went still again at the sight of her arm. A thought struggled to surface. He was waiting in the lord’s bedchamber. He knew I would be coming. He ….
The thought broke off, but Jey’s heart was hammering. Elle and Kae were both staring at her with evident concern. Jey seemed to hear hoofbeats, feel the rise and fall of a horse moving under her. But that was silly. She hadn’t ridden a horse since … since ….
The flashnode in the corner of the room went off.
•••
Jey blinked and set the butter knife on the plate. As she moved, the sleeve of her night dress fell into place. It had been pushed up her arm for some reason. She put the warm bread into her mouth, sighing as the curling hunger in her stomach began to calm.
Elle turned away and walked to the mirror above the washbasin where she straightened her hair. Kae looked up from donning her slippers, a frown creasing her high forehead when she noticed the silver medallion on Jey’s schedule board. “No fair,” she said. “Why do you get a free day?”
◈
Professor Liam’s classroom was one of Jey’s favorite places. It was a large room with elaborate windows, the ceiling vaulted stone. It seemed to her she had once attended Liam’s classes with other students, but today she was here alone.
Her tessila was in good spirits this morning. He darted around the room in lazy loops, sometimes stopping to hover above the bobbing flowers of the potted brillbane that stood before the windows. Two orderlies sat in a corner, notebooks open in front of them as they observed.
Professor Liam, who’d been sorting papers on his desk, now looked up at her. Liam was a tall man, with square shoulders and eyes that always struck Jey as both sad and kind. His hair was gray at the temples and sideburns. He looked at Jey now, keeping his eyes on her for a long time. Jey looked down at her notebook, embarrassed for some reason she couldn’t define. Professor Liam released a short sigh. He strode forward. “Please place your tessila on the holdstone.”
Jey looked for her tessila. Sensing her desire, he came darting through the air, red hide bright in contrast to the gray stone. He alighted on her hand. As she felt the gentle grip of his tiny talons, Jey was suffused with a sense of love so great it took her breath away. She stared at the small creature for a moment. His small body was warm. Though he was no longer than her thumb, he had a presence that somehow filled her mind.
Gently, she moved her hand towards the small, gray stone that sat at the edge of her desk. It was an unremarkable piece of rock, worn smooth and round. For a moment she thought she could remember sitting with similar stones, seeking out inconsistencies, rubbing them down with grit paper.
The thought faded. Her tessila stepped off her finger and settled onto the stone. His sinuous tail wrapped around its base. He set his sharp chinned face on the lip. His tongue flicked out once, twice. He folded his wings, content.
Jey looked up as Professor Liam approached her desk. He stopped quite close, closer than usual. He reached out to take the hand she’d used to place her tessila on the holdstone. She felt a little shock at his touch. She remembered something else. Something to do with a slipper, his hand on the small of her back.
She frowned. It made no sense. And she was distracted by what Professor Liam did next. With his other hand he pushed the white sleeve of her dress up a little, to reveal her forearm.
There was a gash there, shallow and broad. It was long, nearly reaching from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. Professor Liam stared down at it, frowning. “This was not made by a weapon.”
Jey frowned too, staring at her marred skin. The edges of the wound gleamed, giving off a pale blue sheen. Professor Liam saw this, too. He tipped his hand this way and that, causing her arm to shift in the light from the tall windows.
Professor Liam pulled her sleeve back up into position. He set her hand on the table. He turned away, walking towards his own desk. “Do you not remember the passive shield spell I taught you? Were you not wearing one?”
Jey let her eyes drift half closed. It was always so hard, so strange, when her tessila was on the holdstone. It was as if her mind grew very slow, and very deep.
Professor Liam waited with the air of someone not expecting a quick answer. At last, she said, “It’s tiring. Besides, no one ever attacks with magic.”
Professor Liam turned to look at her again. His deep eyes were troubled. “But someone did.” He said this in a tone that suggested he was speaking to himself rather than her. Finally, with a sigh, he said, “We will practice. We’ll practice holding a passive shield in place for a length of time.”
Jey couldn’t stifle a dispirited moan. Nevertheless, she began to weave the spell, imagining the fabric of it in her mind. “But,” Professor Liam continued before she was done, “to make it a little easier, cast it on your tessila. Not yourself. And hold it until our next session.” He paused, looking at her. He added in a low mumble, “If you can, anyway.”
Jey adjusted her spell based on his instructions. She’d practiced casting spells on her tessila before, of course. He never seemed to mind. It would make holding it a good deal easier. He was, after all, quite small.
In the corner, one of the orderlies yawned. Jey closed her eyes, put the final touches on her spell, and looped its weave over her tessila. He didn’t fight it. She snugged it close around him and opened her eyes to see Professor Liam staring at her with a look so intense it made her jump a little.
&nbs
p; “Tomorrow,” he said, “we’ll see how you’ve done.”
With that, Professor Liam strode from the classroom, withdrawing into the small attached office. The two orderlies stood as well, collecting their notes and stretching as if they had sat through a long and boring class instead of a very brief one. Jey consulted her timepiece and her schedule. She saw with surprise she had quite a long time before her next class, which was with Professor Straph. She felt a strange reluctance to move. No flashnodes in classrooms.
She looked down at the red curl of her tessila’s body. She felt that stirring in her heart again, something sweet and deep.
The orderlies were making their way across the room. “Come on, now, Jey,” one of them said in his smooth, soft voice. “Class is dismissed.”
Jey rose with reluctance, holding out her hand for her tessila to come onto. He’d had his eyes closed. Now he opened one, cocked his head, and released a brief, soft hiss. Startled, she glared down at him. “Come on, Phril,” she whispered. “We have to go.”
A moment passed before Jey registered what she’d said. His name is …. This time, I will remember at least that.
Jey’s heart began to beat faster. The orderlies were closer now. Somehow Jey knew it was very, very important they not see her tessila showing signs of rebellious behavior. Once or twice, there had been little girls – girls whose tessili had not done as they were told.
Those girls were gone.
Jey’s tessila stepped off the holdstone and onto her hand. Her chain of thought snapped. She turned and took a few quick steps to stay ahead of the orderlies as they moved towards the door.
◈
Professor Straph lunged at Jey, whirling his staff towards her head in a long, smooth arc. Jey rolled to the side, executed a graceful tumble, and popped up again beside him. But Professor Straph had anticipated her. He reversed the direction of his swing. The edge of his staff caught her in the shoulder. He pulled the blow and her shirt was padded, but the impact threw her off balance. She stumbled, losing the fluidity of her movement. On the holdstone at the edge of the sparring area, Phril hissed.