Page 24 of Anomalies

Gemma grabs my hand, leading us to an empty table near the back.

“Are you working in the Infirmary today?” I ask, sliding onto the low bench, instantly reaching for one of the cinnamon pastries I found.

“Not today. You and I have big plans.”

My brows rise. “What kind of plans?”

“You need a tour,” she tells me, spreading a generous helping of strawberry jam onto a biscuit, “and I give the best tours.”

“A tour sounds nice.”

“Good,” she smiles softly to herself. “So, the Dame is overseeing your training personally… any idea why?”

I shrug, “Because I don’t have a coven.”

“You do have a coven,” she says, “you just don’t know which one it is yet.”

“Kind of the same thing, Gemma.”

She waves a dismissive hand, blue eyes cutting to the Captain’s table. “You know she trained Callan?”

My face falls, and I track her gaze, watching Callan explain whatever is on that paper to a stone-faced Devon and a bright-eyed Pax. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yup,” Gemma says. “She began his physical training the day he turned ten, then she started his magic training when he was sixteen, right after his Split. He was the first of us to go through it. He hated it at first; it took him weeks to build the stamina to meet her demands, but he’s the Captain… he had to be the strongest of his coven.” Gemma tucks a loose strand of blonde hair back into her clip. “He trained with her until he and the others turned eighteen, then they remade the Ajax Coven, and have trained together ever since.”

“The Ajax Coven?” I turn back to Gemma.

“Males hailing from our most coveted bloodlines, they’re the guardians of the Sol. The Dame’s coven is their female counterparts, but they are the governing body, whereas the Ajax are the first line of defense between us and a threat. The night Streatham was attacked, the former Ajax coven didn’t hesitate; they ran straight into the heart of the chaos.” Gemma exhales, her shoulders falling with the breath she blows out. “None of them came back out of it.”

My appetite vanishes.

“When everything went to shit,” Gemma explains, “it was women and children first. Callan and the other five in his coven were the only male heirs to make it out. Same thing with the Dame and her coven, she wasn’t even supposed to be the High Priestess, but the three of them were the only ones that survived.” Gemma must see the instinctual apology forming on my tongue, because she quickly plasters on a smile. “We’ve all grieved, Lucina, including me. Everyone here… we’ve become the family that we lost.”

“Gemma,” I say warily, and her eyes flick to mine. “What happened that night?”

“No one’s told you?” is her response, and I shake my head. “Rogues. They came up from the south—a whole army of them. They sacked our city in the night. All the nobility were killed, and their bodies were hung from the palace gates. The Dame, the Captain, and their covens are the only royal blood we have left.”

Oh, my gods.

“And Rogues are…”

“Dark witches. Converts to the sinister side of Vita.” Gemma jabs her fork in the direction of Vita’s stained-glass pane–the evil side of the two-faced Matron. “They’ve got those yellow eyes.”

My stare focuses on the yellow shards of glass used in Her pane. “And they just… killed everyone?”

“That’s where it gets controversial.” Gemma leans back with her mug of coffee. “About ninety-nine percent of the people here believe we’re the only Sol left on the continent. The majority believe Rogues killed everyone who didn’t make it out of Streatham.”

“And the last percent?”

Gemma looks earnestly back at me and says, “Callan is the last percent. He believes we have people alive in Streatham still. He thinks Rogues have kept them all this time, and that’s why he obsesses over these…missions.” She nods to his table, and the papers he has strewn in front of him, a stern look on his face as he rubs at the back of his neck. “He’s been at it since he was sixteen, so…” Gemma looks up at the ceiling, doing some quick math. “Twelve years.”

“Gods,” I breathe, and Gemma nods. Twelve years…spent looking for something that no one else believes in? Why? “Not to be pessimistic,” I start, “but why hasn’t he given up?”

“Not in his nature,” Gemma says plainly. “Never has been.”

The Captain’s gaze lifts from his papers, and I yank my stare back to Gemma instantly. “So, are you two like…”

Her blue eyes flair and then she’s coughing, choking on the sip of coffee she’d just taken, and when I move to help her, she waves me off, sucking in a deep breath. “Lucina, Callan’s my brother.”