The hexagon-shaped building where I’d had my orientation loomed larger than I remembered. I clasped my hands in front of me to keep them from shaking.
“I understand your question now,” Cayden said, bringing back our conversation. “How am I alive? You’re asking about the human race, because you grew up under a rock.”
Cayden separated my palms, now damp with nervous sweat. If it bothered him, it didn’t stop him from lacing our fingers together and pulling me closer to his side.
“During the tremors,” he continued. “People either died, evolved, or twisted themselves with whatever they needed to survive.” He hesitated. “In my family, we’re taught the Sun God blessed us, and only us. His rays shone only on the Prophet and blessed him with not only eternal life but knowledge of the world's inner workings.”
I squeezed his hand. “So, did it work? Is your Prophet still alive?”
“Yes. He is family.” Cayden flattened his lips into a familiar line. He hadn’t meant to say whatever came out of his mouth, and if I didn’t change the topic, silence would be the rest of my evening.
“Ok, so they twisted themselves with whatever they needed to survive,” I repeated. “Cryptic. Dramatic.” I bumped his shoulder playfully. “Could your wording be influenced by your Prophet? Does he also have a flair for drama?”
Cayden stiffened.
Suddenly aware my attempt at playfulness had made Cayden very uncomfortable, I backpedaled. “But how did they, ah, the people twist themselves?”
We stepped into the hexagonal building and slid past Valentino’s office. Several of the adorable cat flags hung along the ceiling as we walked down a short hall, which ended at a simple but thick, closed wooden door. My heart raced. I told myself I wasn’t nervous about seeing Ezra and demanding answers, but it was a big fat lie.
“I don’t know how people twisted themselves.” Cayden frowned. “But you’ve brought up monsters and BT a few times now.” He side-eyed me.
I kept my mouth shut. I’d escaped the crazy title in this world. I wasn’t going to reclaim it by kicking off about time travel, if that was what I’d done.
“Three monsters not only live here, but also proctored our placements,” Cayden continued. “We’re hitting dead ends with your magic. Maybe we should follow your desire to reach out.”
My heart thumped, and Cayden squeezed my hand as if he could hear it.
People born in BT with no magic survived and were still alive a hundred years later. Chancellor Morgen, Winston, and Professor Holiday. In Professor Holiday’s case, I believed it. But Chancellor Morgen looked to be in her sixties. I’d watched her sprint across Crown Square to deal with Professor Holiday like it was nothing. And Winston had that ageless Friar Tuck vibe.
Ages aside, two of the three I knew shifted into something not human. Professor Holiday probably did as well… Was I a monster?
An almost comical memory of when my dad first dropped me off in a forest to ‘let Miss Q out’ hit me hard. I’d spent the first twentyminutes pretending to be a werewolf, because why not? Crazy see, crazy do.
Cayden knocked on Ezra’s office door, and I studied my hand. Although my magic had created a dragon during my testing, I was pretty sure I couldn’t turn into one. But maybe I was on the right track.
The door to Ezra’s office opened.
Cayden walked in first, and I stayed close behind. Plum-purple light filled the hexagonal room. On one side, a large metal desk held a pile of multicolored glowing scrawls, bright as a pride parade. Opposite it, a lone bookshelf brimmed with rolled maps and two leather-bound volumes glowing baby-blue. Along the far wall, a weight rack and single bench made me smile. The rest of the room was bare.
“Quinn.” Ezra’s gaze bore into me. “What are you doing here?”
I raised an eyebrow. Ezra hadn’t spoken to me in days, and I hadn’t answered any of his messages about meeting at the gym. I might have wanted to, but with my new schedule, I barely had a moment to breathe, let alone train.
Cayden scowled at Ezra before sliding closer to me. “Her TB’s missing. She doesn’t know her time slot to get her family placement.”
Ezra didn’t react to Cayden’s statement. Instead, he stepped to his weightlifting bench and adjusted the back so it created a ridged seat. “Sit. We’ll get Cayden sorted first.”
I reached for Cayden and squeezed his hand before plopping down. The padded leather pulled up memories of Ezra’s rough hands guiding me in those late-night training sessions. Heat coiled low, and I wondered if he’d take off his shirt right now, if I asked. As if reading my thoughts, the infuriating man picked at his tunic before smoothing it back down.
Turning his attention fully to Cayden, he picked up a race-car-orange scrawl. “You show multiple aptitudes. Imagination, stamina, and fight were your highest marks. And I will be blunt. I would like to see you working on our defenses directly under me. I believe your unique view of the world could broaden our horizons.”
Cayden snorted. “You want to pump me for information and are putting me directly under you because no one will work with a Lawson.”
Ezra didn’t disagree. “What do you want to do?”
Cayden looked at me. “I want to learn.”
I gave him an encouraging nod.
