I calmed down and studied my desk before poking the book-looking thing. It was solid enough, though oddly squishy. I picked it up by its cover, which made the baby-blue cube roll onto the desk. The book fell open. ‘Pages’ fluttered and blurred before turning back into the semitranslucent gray. A light circle was carved into the desk, exactly where the book had been. A collection of lines and dots ran through it with a bigXthrough the middle. Maybe magic?
Duh, magic.
I picked up the baby-blue cube next. The moment I did, the glow vanished, leaving behind a rather large six-sided stone block with nothing on it.I turned it over, and bright gold words appeared on one side, accompanied by a schedule-ish block of text, which I assumed wasintended for me based on Hope’s brief introduction yesterday. I was due in Crown Square for a placement test at ten. Right. I had no idea what time… nope. That was a lie. As I kept turning the contraption, seven forty-five appeared on one side, along with a little picture of the sun, right above the seven.
The weird cube was some sort of clock/schedule keeper. Maybe Miss Q’s manifestation of a phone? I would literally kill for ten minutes with Google right now.
I flipped the cube a few more times, but the rest of the sides were still blank.
Right. Whatever. Moving on.
Another glowing paper-like sheet caught my attention, lying partially under my desk. This one was much smaller and in white.
Sorry about Angela. A peace offering on her behalf. A book to solidify your fundamentals for placements. Make sure you lean it against a wall or two. You never know.
- Rowan
P.S. I don’t actually know where you live. I gave this to the librarian, and she put you on the delivery route.
P.P.S. It’s signed by the author, and I will eventually need it back.
My cheeks started hurting, and I relaxed the crazy smile stretching my face. Rowan, my Witcher look-a-like, remembered me. He’d set it up, so I’d have to see him again to return the book…unless I could give it to the librarian and have it delivered to him as well.
I groaned. He said he’d done this on behalf of Angela, his contracted suitor, or whatever the girl part was called. He didn’t like me. Shit. No. Full stop. None of this was real. I needed to cool my heels.
I slid to my couch and cracked open the odd squishy book, scanning the first page.A General Guide to Harmonizing with the Electrical Field of Earth, version seven, by Osric Tate the fourth.
An excited wiggle ran through my body. Even after reminding myself this wasn’t real, in my hands was a book on magic. And for better or worse, until I woke up, I might as well soak up every bit of knowledge Miss Q invented.
Chapter 5
Cayden
Irestlesslyshiftedmyfeet on the thick, damp grass and scowled at the collection of people slowly trickling into Crown Square. The sky switched between gray and blue; the clouds moving fast as if they had better places to be. I studied the Architect’s obsession with excess. Vines and flowers climbed up the walls of the oldest buildings in the castle, surrounding an overly groomed courtyard. A few statues drew my gaze. All of it served no point but vanity. Much like the people I’d met so far: impulsive, high-strung, and unwilling to put the good of all above themselves.
My Prophet had warned me that the world beyond our compound would hold none of the joy I’d known in the first quarter of my life within his walls. Light, he said, shone only on the men he blessed with his ancient hands.
A dark cloud blotted out the Sun God’s rays, and I shivered.
My Prophet let me leave, saying my time away would only strengthen my belief. And I wanted it to. More than anything, I wanted thelove of the Sun God back in my heart. It would heal me if I could find it again.
I pressed the almost invisible white rune tattooed on my wrist. It was one of forty-six covering my skin in the same ink. However, it was the only one I hadn’t designed myself. My Prophet inked it on me by hand, connecting me directly to him. It had been silent since I left, since…
I squeezed my eyes shut before the memories could come back. I’d spent my life believing in every ideal my Prophet preached. Our Sun God watched over us, guided our destiny, and loved us like his own children. Well, the Sun God hadn’t had enough love for my daughter. No one had. Not even me.
I opened my eyes and calmed myself. At least temporarily, I was in a new place, away from the memories. It was what I needed. I couldn’t change the past; I could only look toward the future and try to understand why God had cursed me.
More trainees drifted into Crown Square, but none came close. An almost perfect ring of empty space formed around me. Most looked my age or younger, though a few faces bore the hard lines of time. One broad-nosed man had streaks of gray in his flat orange hair. In my family, no one trained past sixteen, but the Architect accepted anyone who passed his test.
I couldn’t tell if it was desperation or if he truly believed his own propaganda. I ran my fingers across the smooth surface of the fist-sized cube my peers called a Talkbox, TB for short, hanging off my belt. The same communication devices connecting us to his family hung off the hips of everyone else as well. One side of it held a rune that would alert the Architect when one of his devices left his territory.
“It doesn’t mean you can’t leave,” Hope had explained. “But the device itself is priceless. Please check in with us so we understand the situation, or, if you don’t want us in your business, leave it with me.”
I was skeptical, as anyone in their right mind would be. The devices were clearly a means of control. I found myself rubbing my Prophet’s permanent tattoo on my wrist again and forced my thoughts away from my family and our faith.
There were about twenty here now. A single man, at least five years younger than me, with a metallic shimmer to his gold hair, met my gaze and nodded, the youngest Abernathy. Gold and emeralds sparkled over the same uniform I wore. I inclined my head in return, not surprised to see him in his ally’s castle.
My gaze slid past two women. One appeared to be in her early twenties, and the other well into her forties. Both were accompanied by, I assumed, their brothers. Like me, they dressed in cream tunics, though they kept theirs tightly laced. I hated seeing them outside their homes, even with their brothers to watch them. Women never left my compound. They shouldn’t. They were too valuable.
