“Of course we can,” I say. Not even a guard to watch us? I wait for the rest.
Veridius pulls four stone cuffs from his pocket. “Oh. And while you’re on the island, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to wear these.”
“What are they?” asks Livia with a frown, examining them.
“Tracking devices. It’s just a precaution. The Senate insists that all visitors wear them now.” He motions for our hands, which we offer reluctantly. “If any are broken, or leave the grounds while active, it will trigger an immediate Academy-wide alarm. Every guard will be alerted and every resource will be devoted to a search.” He doesn’t look at me in particular, or shy away from my gaze. As if this had nothing to do with me.
“I thought that was what the walls were for, Principalis,” I observe with blithe cheerfulness as the stone band snaps shut around my wrist. It’s a snug fit. No squeezing my hand out of it.
Veridius chuckles. “You’re a Sextus now, Vis. The walls are meant to keep in students who don’t have access to Will. And they’re not always successful in doing that much,” he adds lightly.
We both grin our false grins, and he moves on to Eidhin.
Soon we’re all wearing the tracking bands, and Veridius is smiling around at us as if we’d never left. “Until dinner, then.” He walks off.
We wander for a while after that, giving Livia a brief tour of the grounds and steering as Veridius suggested toward the girls’ dormitory. Livia and Aequa disappear inside, and after a few minutes Aequa comes back out alone.
“She’s just cleaning up. She won’t be long.” She taps the stone bracelet on her wrist. Grim. “What are we going to do?”
My gaze flicks to the distant Will-smooth wall that divides the Academy from the remainder of Solivagus. Fifteen feet high, spikes at the top. I still have the faint remnants of a scar on my palm from the last time I scaled it.
“He was not bluffing, Vis,” Eidhin rumbles, seeing my observation. “He is not a fool.”
“I know. I still think I can get us out.” I pause. “But … Livia is a problem.”
Aequa and I look at Eidhin expectantly.
“What?” He squints at us, puzzled. “The plan is for Aequa to keep her company, while Vis and I get over the wall. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re going to be a better distraction,” says Aequa firmly.
“She’s right, my friend,” I agree.
“Why?”
Aequa and I exchange glances. See the laughter in the other’s eyes and try, unsuccessfully, to hide smirks. “She will be more … engaged, with you,” says Aequa eventually.
Eidhin’s eyes narrow.
“Somuch more engaged,” I agree, the corners of my mouth curling involuntarily as Aequa coughs, barely restraining herself.
Eidhin glares at me, then Aequa, then at me again. “I am from Military. Her father is a Tertius in Governance.”
Aequa’s lips twitch. “So would you describe yourself as …forbidden?” She says the last in a seductive whisper. Eyes wide.
Neither of us can hold back snickers as Eidhin glowers. “You are wrong.”
“Youare oblivious,” Aequa corrects him.
Eidhin’s scowl deepens, but as he sees me nodding firmly, he makes a small, rude gesture in our direction. “Very well. I will … tour her.”
This time, at the now-rare language mistake from a vaguely flustered Eidhin, Aequa and I aren’t able to keep it in. It feels good to laugh—to laugh hard and long, so loud that I can’t hear the specifics of Eidhin’s annoyed protests.
We’ve barely subsided when Livia emerges from the building behind us, and Aequa and I straighten our faces. “Time for some charm,” I murmur to Eidhin.
He hears the glee in my voice. His look promises future consequences.
“Livia,” he says, turning and walking briskly to greet the girl. “As we have some time …”
