Page 122 of Stormbreaker

Scion Beaufort takes her time examining our group. She stalks the inside perimeter of our circle and tips her chin to those she must recognize. A few times, she reaches out to squeeze someone’s hand. When she arrives at Domino, she pauses and assesses her up and down.

“We have cogs joining our ranks,” Scion Beaufort says, her voice echoing around the room via a small microphone pinned to her lapel. “How . . . delightful.” Her tone is cool but polite, yet I don’t think anyone misses her buried subtext.

“Yes, ma’am,” Domino says, dropping her head and dipping a little at the knee. “Thank you for welcoming us.”

Scion Beaufort’s smile borders on simpering. “Well, I really didn’t have much choice.”

Domino blinks at the insult, and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to speak out on her behalf. I need to remember I’m no one here.

Scion Beaufort continues her examination of her new pledges, and my neck grows hot with nerves and anticipation.

If she singled out Domino, what will she do with the two of us who switched Houses?

Slowly, she makes her way closer, and her eyes pass completely over both Trinity and me as she saunters down the line. I exhale the breath trapped in my chest, relieved she isn’t planning to draw attention to our presence.

At least not yet.

She finishes the circle, briefly stopping at the far end, where it’s difficult to make her out in the dim light. But something tells me she’s arrived at Rook’s standing place, thanks to several nervous shuffles.

“A Solitude,” she says softly, confirming my hunch. “Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable.” She steps back as if to admire him. Or more likely to judge.

“I’ll be curious to see how you manage outside the Wastes.”

In Rook’s case, she doesn’t sound disgusted.

She almost sounds amused, perhaps even delighted by his presence. It sends a trickle of uneasiness spreading across my scalp.

Finally, Scion Beaufort makes her way to the room’s center, where she ascends the platform one slow step at a time. Her heels and her cane thump in alternate rhythms along with the wild, erratic beating of my pulse.

“It’s so very good to see some of you,” she says, her voice booming over us. “I’ve watched many of you grow into the young adults you’ve become. I know you’ll do me well in continuing a proud Aria tradition through your schooling and once you graduate and represent our Society in the world.”

She waxes on for another moment about Aria’s mandate and their duty to ensure the sustainability and health of our population. Then she spends another minute extolling the virtues and achievements of the Extinguishers and their duty to protect infected Keepers from becoming a danger to themselves and to us.

I shift nervously from foot to foot, my gaze slipping to Trinity’s profile, and I have to wonder why, if they’re so great, they needed to persuade Trinity to join them?

Finally, Scion Beaufort finishes her talk, and one by one, our names are called to approach and pledge our loyalty to our House. It drags on forever as each person takes their turn, bowing before her and reciting their oath before they leave the room.

I stand there for more than an hour, eventually becoming aware that she has arranged it so that I’ll be the last person to pledge. Despite the lengthiness of the entire spectacle, it feels like time passes much too quickly before it’s just Scion Beaufort and me left in the room.

Is she planning to kill me and dispose of my body right here and now?

She turns around and crooks a finger.

I stare at her, momentarily paralyzed.

“Come. I won’t bite,” she says, though I’m almost sure that isn’t true.

Still, I compel my feet to move. My boots click on the ceramic tiles as I approach and stand at the bottom of the steps. I square my posture and lift my chin while she regards me with all the warmth of an approaching iceberg.

“You’ve made quite the spectacle of my House, Poet Graves,” she says. “And of yours.”

“Fiama is no longer my House,” I say, and her gaze narrows.

“Why?” she asks.

I swallow the iron knot in my throat.

“I didn’t feel that I belonged in Fiama any longer,” I reply, figuring that’s the sort of answer she’s looking for. I doubt she wants to hear about my personal goals and drama.