Page 36 of Bone Year

“Come, come. Don’t be shy. Get your hands in there.”

We gather around the hollowstag’s open chest, and one by one we reach inside. The strings of current hum beneath my fingertips, warm and alive despite the creature being very much dead. It’s strange and unsettling but also fascinating in a way.

While we examine the creature up close, Nestor explains that for the first part of the year we’ll be covering all of the twisted creatures associated with fissures.

“Even though you aren’t training to be Vanguards, the elite war soldiers who fight on the front lines, you will be deployed to fissure sites eventually. You will be put in dangerous situations.”

He nudges my hand, encouraging me to touch an antler.

“And you need to know what you’re up against so you can protect yourselves properly. Without you, no one is getting saved. Dead healers don’t heal. Remember that.”

Lux fidgets next to me, not wanting to touch the creature, and Nestor gives her an incredulous look. “Alright, that’s enough touching for today. Back to your seats. I have reading assignments for you and I expect them to be done by our next class.”

We file back to our benches, and I find myself replaying everything he said. I found his class kind of exciting, minus starting it off thinking I might vomit up my breakfast. I have his class twice a week, and the reading assignments will probably be interesting.

I’m eager to learn more about what he knows about fissures and the twisted creatures. There’s something about the way he talks about them, equal parts reverence and warning, that makes me want to understand. I need to read up on the last cycles too. I don’t even fully understand what we might be up against.

Lux nudges me as we gather our things. “You okay? You got quiet all of a sudden.”

“I’m thinking,” I say, tucking the reading assignment and syllabus into my bag for later.

“About the dead healer comment?” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, that one’s going to stick with me too. So what class do you have now?”

We spill out into the corridor with the rest of the students.

“Fracture and Form with Professor Cane and then a lunch break.” I pull the map from my bag and squint at the tiny labels. “After lunch, I have Triage of the Damned with Professor Bale. Then I’m done for the day...until the Mirror Ceremony tonight.”

“Bale?” Lux perks up. “That’s my dad’s class. I have him after lunch too.”

“Nice, so since it’s your dad, he’ll go easy on us right,” I say, laughing as I fold the map back up.

“Yeah, about that.” She gives me a wiry smile, and I frown. “You’re better off claiming you don’t know me. He’s not going to go easy on me because I’m his daughter. If anything, he’ll be harder.” She fiddles with the strap of her bag that crosses her chest. “Something about not wanting to show favoritism and needing to toughen me up.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad. At least we can suffer together,” I say, buttoning up my black sweater and pulling my coat tighter around me before I reach the doors to the outside.

“Anyway, I have Endurance of Pain with Professor Clementine right now.” She sighs dramatically. “I’ve heard she makes students cry on the first day on purpose.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be a blast.” She gives me a mock salute. “If I don’t see you at lunch, assume the worst.”

She says the last part over her shoulder as she heads down the corridor, her pink hair bouncing with each step. I round the corner and push through the doors leading to the courtyard.

The freezing air hits my chest. I shove my hands into my pockets to keep warm while I try to get my bearings. Everything looks the same. Stone and ice and spires all covered in a perpetual winter haze. Somewhere across this frozen campus is Professor Cane’s classroom, and I have about five minutes to find it.

“Wrong direction.”

The voice comes from behind me, and I recognize it before I turn to see Draven standing a few feet away. All his hair is pulled up into a bun today, and he’s breathing into his hands. Even doing something so mundane, he looks dangerous. The beard makes him look older, wilder, less like a student and more like something that wandered out of the frozen woods. Snowflakes speckle the dark wool of his coat, and I realize I’m studying him for too long and look away.

“I wasn’t—” I start.

“You were heading toward the stables.” He tilts his head toward the opposite end of campus. “Cane’s class is that way.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you know what class I’m going to? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation, or are you my stalker now?”

He doesn’t rise to the bait but watches me with that infuriatingly blank expression.

I brush past him in the direction he suggested. I want to pull the map out again, but he starts to walk with me, ignoring my former statement entirely.