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She searched the table for him, feeling a flicker of interest. She’d be sitting the same test soon, after all. But there was no sign of him.
She settled next to Sage, scooping up an octopus tentacle.
“I wonder how Jacobi’s test is going. Must be a long one.”
Sage stared at her, wide eyed. “You didn’t hear?”
Merletta stilled. “Hear what?”
“He failed,” Sage whispered. “It’s all over the dining hall.”
Merletta’s mouth dropped open, and she found herself searching the room. Sage was right—the rest of the merpeople were looking frequently at the trainees’ table, and muttering amongst themselves.
“Poor Jacobi,” said Sage. “I bet his family are furious.”
Merletta felt a flicker of sympathy, but it was measured by a selfish relief that she would be rid of another hostile rival. The thought made her feel guilty.
“I wonder if Emil is nervous,” she said, glancing at the fourth year. “His test is tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“He doesn’t look nervous,” said Sage dryly.
She was right. The older trainee looked as calm as ever, eating his meal in his habitual silence with no sign that he was aware of the excited chatter around him.
Merletta let out a long breath. “It makes it feel real,” she said, a sick feeling in her stomach as she thought of her upcoming test. “The reminder that some people fail.”
Sage gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not going to fail, Merletta. You’ve outperformed Jacobi in every practice test.”
Merletta gave her friend a tense smile, still feeling slightly nauseated. She could only hope Sage was right.
Emil had no reason to be nervous, of course. To nobody’s surprise, he passed his final test the following day, and it filled Merletta with fresh determination. Finishing the program often felt like an impossibly far off dream, but seeing someone else achieve it spurred her on. Not to mention she was now the only one left of the group she’d joined to take her test, and she was determined not to follow in Jacobi’s wake.
* * *
Merletta looked up at the grim stone wall of the charity home. She was less than eager to be back here, but she had little choice. Her accidental discovery in the records had so thrown her that she’d been unable to focus on her study ever since. And with her test only a week away, she couldn’t afford the distraction any longer. Jacobi’s failure had rattled her, and she wanted to clear the water before she took the test.
She saw many familiar faces as she swam boldly through the halls of the home, but none she wanted to stop and greet. She gripped her spear tightly, proud of the symbol of her success. Perhaps the weapon was why no one stopped her or asked her why she was there. She passed unhindered to the head’s office.
“You.” The head looked her over with disfavor, not seeming especially surprised to see her. “Failed, have you? I guess it’s been about that long.” Her eyes narrowed. “I told you that you couldn’t come back here.”
“I would live on the street before I came back here,” said Merletta coldly. “And I haven’t failed anything. I’m yet to sit my test.”
“Only a matter of time,” the head said dismissively.
“I don’t care what you think about my prospects,” said Merletta, anger simmering just below the surface of her calm words. “I’ve come to ask you why you lied to me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the head, her voice bored, even as her eyes lingered on Merletta’s weapon.
“Was I abandoned?” Merletta asked, not interested in subtlety. “Or were my parents known?”
A wary look came into the head’s eyes, and Merletta’s heart raced faster.
“I don’t even remember,” the head said, her attempt at nonchalance not convincing. “So many urchins come through here, there’s nothing to make your case special.”
“You’re lying,” said Merletta, her voice shaking. “You do remember. What really happened?”
“I don’t have time for your dramatics today, Merletta,” said the head imperiously. “Where are you getting these wild ideas from?”
“From a written record,” Merletta said, her face unyielding. “In the Center of Culture.”
