The Relic (Sacrisvita Book 3) Page 4

  Sage looked up from her reading occasionally. Poring over the textbook version of Eprah’s history was always boring. The Archives afforded a much deeper understanding of what had happened in Eprah’s past. Relics didn’t have the same bias to always paint Eprah and its leaders as the great saviors of their people.

  She looked over at their instructor and noticed he kept glancing at the clock. Even he was bored and distracted, and he was the one who got to decide how they spent their time. Sage rolled her eyes and refocused on the text. They were sure to have a quiz on it later that week—Mr. Strick had quite the predictable pattern of teaching.

  A knock sounded at the classroom door. That was, inherently, quite unusual. The Institution’s faculty always seemed to burst into rooms whenever they pleased, and students were all in classes at this hour.

  Sage’s head popped up in confusion, and she saw she wasn’t the only one. The rest of her classmates had also turned their attention to the door in unmistakable curiosity. She and Pippa exchanged a glance, shrugging in unison.

  Mr. Strick seemed particularly unhappy with the interruption, though, unlike the students, he didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

  “Just a minute,” he shouted at the closed door in obvious irritation.

  He turned his attention back to the class. “I told you all we’d have a real treat today,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Pull up chapter twenty-seven.”

  A slight murmur fell over the class.

  Marnie dared to speak up. “But, sir, we’ve been going in order this year, and chapter twenty-seven—”

  “Quiet!” he bellowed. “Do as you’re told.”

  Marnie’s face flushed, and she lowered her eyes to the screen in front of her, not daring to utter another word.

  Mr. Strick only waited a moment. “Everyone there? Good.” He didn’t wait for a response—not that anyone would have dared offer one after his last outburst.

  “Come on in, instructor.” Mr. Strick’s gaze seemed to pierce the door, his words dripping with disdain.

  The door flew inward. The man standing in the doorway was undoubtedly Mr. Walsh. He was thinner with dark circles under his eyes and a still-healing pink scar on his cheek, but their old instructor was back.

  Sage stifled a gasp at the sight of him up close, but none of the others seemed able to hide their surprise, and a collective whisper filled the room.

  Mr. Strick motioned Mr. Walsh inside the room, pointing to the empty chair behind the desk.

  “We’ll be co-instructors for a bit as Mr. Walsh catches up on the current state of his classes.” Mr. Strick explained pointedly. “Now that he’s back from his vacation.”

  Mr. Walsh kept his mouth closed, not so much as offering a greeting to his students. Sage was almost positive she saw his jaw clench a little tighter at Mr. Strick’s last comment.

  Mr. Strick leered and turned back to his pupils.

  “Nic, would you please begin reading the new chapter aloud.” Despite his use of the word please, Mr. Strick’s words were never courteous or in the form of questions. They were only ever commands.

  Mr. Strick stared intently at Mr. Walsh as Nic began reading. Mr. Walsh kept his eyes straight ahead, steady. He appeared almost to be purposefully refusing to look over at his temporary replacement.

  “Nic, read those lines again,” Mr. Strick interrupted, his gaze never wavering from Mr. Walsh’s face.

  “What, the paragraph I just finished?” Nic said hesitantly, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his frustration.

  “Yes, that one,” Mr. Strick huffed impatiently.

  Nic frowned and looked back down at his databook.

  “After all the years of peace, the Lawless faction of Eprah had grown to a number which could no longer be ignored. The Quorum of Five was forced to address the rebels in the only manner they seemed able to understand: complete annihilation. All known Lawless rebels and sympathizers brought about their own destruction that day. When given the choice between fealty or obstinate disregard for the peace which so many had sacrificed their lives for, they chose to spit in the face of mercy and turn their back on the nation which had given them everything. For that, they would pay the ultimate price.”

  Mr. Walsh’s eye twitched just above his fresh scar, but he remained otherwise stoic. He sat stiffly in his chair, unmoving. Sage had never seen him appear so cold and detached. She remembered an instructor who relished imparting knowledge into young minds—an instructor who cared about the words that were read and the voices who spoke them. That instructor seemed to be gone.

  “Thank you, Nic.” Mr. Strick broke his unblinking stare at Mr. Walsh for a moment to address the students in his charge. “Remember class, we must learn our history so we don’t repeat it. This was a particularly dark period when the Lawless rebels were trying to overthrow all the good things of Eprah, and they were dealt with accordingly.”

  He turned back to Nic. “Please continue.”

  9. EVASION

  Penelope laughed as she stumbled out of the training room. “You should’ve seen your face though. Priceless.”

  Sage punched her in the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  “That’s what you get.”

  “Relax, crazy. I just thought it was funny that you two were paired up again.”

  “Well, I didn’t,” Sage mumbled.

  Ms. Bax had assigned sparring partners, and Sage had been forced to face off against Carnabel for the first time since the tournament. She’d spent most of the hour bouncing along the perimeter of the mat, avoiding contact. She knew she couldn’t afford the time it would take to recover from another injury before the tournament, and Carnabel’s eyes weren’t hiding that she was out for blood.

  Fortunately, she’d managed to come away from the sparring session with little more than sore muscles and a tender wrist. Carnabel’s vice grip on her wrist had been an attempt at throwing her to the ground, but Sage had managed to wriggle out of her hold just in time, barely maintaining her balance.

  Sage fought back a grin. Carnabel’s shock was obvious—and funny. She clearly hadn’t expected Sage to have improved her skills that much since their last fight.

  They rounded another corner on their way to the Common Lounge. Sage started to drop back from the rest of the class, and Penelope fell in step with her.

  “I think I might stop in here for a minute.” Sage jerked her head toward Mr. Walsh’s classroom door.

  “Why?” Penelope couldn’t hide her irritation. Sage still hadn’t told her what had happened with Mr. Walsh at the Archives. All she knew was that Sage was still keeping secrets.

  “I just need to check on something—about my project.” It was at least partly true, Sage reasoned.

  Penelope narrowed her eyes at her friend. “One of these days, Sage, you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Seriously, Pen, he’s the instructor for my Interest Society,” Sage feigned indignance.

  “Whatever. Do what you want.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively as she walked away.

  Sage felt sick. She knew she could trust Penelope, but something about this place kept her from spilling all her secrets, even to her closest friend. Besides, she reminded herself, it still wasn’t her secret to tell.

  She waited a few moments outside the classroom door until the last of her fellow Level Nines had emptied out of the hall. She sucked in a breath and pushed open the door.

  “… complain. Your timing couldn’t have been better.” Mr. Walsh was sitting at his desk, talking to someone with long blond hair. Sage didn’t recognize the girl from behind.

  He stopped abruptly and sat up straighter, eyeing the young student who was now standing at the edge of his classroom. He cleared his throat and ran his fingers along his bracelet.

  Lita looked up in surprise, craning her neck around so she could see who had joined them.

  “Oh, hi, Sage. We were just going over my research topic. Did you need t
o talk to him too?”

  Sage opened her mouth to reply, but Mr. Walsh answered for her before she was able.

  “Oh, I very much doubt that Miss Indarra and I have anything to discuss right now.” He turned his attention back to Lita. “And I think our conversation is done for now as well. Do keep me updated on your progress though.”

  Mr. Walsh got to his feet. “Now then, if you’ll both excuse me, I still have a lot of work to catch up on before Mr. Strick will be able to move on, and I’d rather not waste any more of his time than is absolutely necessary.”

  The instructor pushed his way out the door past Sage, leaving the two girls staring blankly at each other.

  “Geez, way to scare him off,” Lita teased.

  Sage forced a smile. She knew Lita wasn’t being serious, but she couldn’t help but think that was exactly what she’d just done.

  10. TRADITION

  “I like this tradition.” Penelope flashed a smile at Sage.

  Sage opened her eyes again in the cool night air and looked at her friend with a grin playing at her lips.

  “Is it a tradition now?” She paused. “Me too.”

  She stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned back, gravel digging into her palms as she stared up at the stars. The moon was enormous tonight. It looked close enough that she could reach out and touch it.

  “Still,” Sage began cautiously, “I can’t help but worry we’ll get caught.”

  Penelope snickered. “Of course, you can’t.”

  Sage shot her an annoyed look.

  “Oh, c’mon. You’re a worrier. We haven’t gotten caught yet, have we?” Penelope ran a finger over the ends of her hair and then flipped her braid over her shoulder nonchalantly. “It’s one night.”

  “Oh, no, we haven’t gotten caught,” Sage said sarcastically. “Not tonight at least. But we did last year.”

  The only response Penelope gave was to rake her fingers through the gravel. She couldn’t deny Sage’s words. But Kai and Rosalind were the ones who caught them last year, and they’d avoided getting into any trouble.

  “But you like it up here, right?”

  Sage sighed, nodding.

  “Good.” Penelope seemed satisfied with her response. “Happy birthday.”

  Sage smiled and gave Penelope a slight shove, knocking her over. She giggled.

  “Gee, thanks.” She pursed her lips and brushed the small rocks off her hands.

  “Anytime.”

  Sage glanced over the edge of the building once more, looking out over the city. She shivered and pulled her jacket a little tighter around her shoulders.

  “What’s your favorite part of being out here?” Penelope cocked her head at her friend.

  Sage closed her eyes. She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned back until she was lying completely flat on the roof, staring up at the flecks of light above them.

  “That it isn’t there,” she whispered. “This is the closest thing I ever feel to free.”

  Penelope sat up quickly and froze. “You’re kidding,” she breathed.

  “What?” Sage frowned. She was surprised that her response seemed to have somehow offended Penelope.

  “Shh! I hear something.” Penelope craned her neck, listening.

  Sage’s eyes darted wildly around the rooftop. Not again. She imagined Headmaster Alexander and Mr. Strick exchanging smug glances as they shoved her into a room for her shunning. Anger boiled up in her for allowing herself to be talked into coming up here.

  She was shaken from her thoughts by Penelope tugging forcefully on her arm.

  “C’mon!” she whispered, fear filling her eyes. “We’ve gotta hide fast!”

  Sage scrambled to her feet. The pair darted to the same vent they’d sought as cover before.

  They ducked down just in time. The unmistakable screech and clang of the door swinging open and closed echoed across the roof and the courtyard below. The girls held their breath and shut their eyes tightly, hoping that would somehow hide them better.

  “I know you’re up here,” an older male voice called out authoritatively. “Don’t make me look.”

  Penelope and Sage exchanged a helpless look. There was nowhere to run, and they both knew it. They could only hope they’d be shown some mercy if they gave themselves up.

  Nausea threatened to overwhelm Sage as they stood. She felt her strength leave her legs, and she grasped the vent tightly to steady herself as she turned toward the door.

  She gasped when she realized who was on the rooftop with them. Mr. Walsh stood in the doorway. He waited silently for the two girls to come closer.

  “Penelope,” he began once the girls were standing in front of him, “I’m surprised an ambassador like yourself would be so inclined to go off on your own like this. Knowing the rules and all.”

  Her face reddened, and Sage thought she saw tears forming in her eyes.

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “And you,” he turned to Sage, “I’m surprised you would take such a great risk when you know you’ve been in trouble with this administration several times already.” He shook his head.

  Silence stretched over the roof as the girls waited with dread for their punishment.

  “I suppose I could let it slide this time,” he continued slowly. “But neither of you can breathe a word about this to anyone.”

  The girls looked at each other and then at Mr. Walsh. They were torn between hope and disbelief.

  “For now, you need to return to your Common Lounge. There isn’t much time left before Madame Humphrey comes to collect you, if I’m correct.”

  The rogue students hesitated and then made a motion toward the door.

  “Not you, Sage.” Mr. Walsh put a hand on her shoulder. “I need a word.”

  Penelope’s eyes grew wide as they shot back and forth between Sage and Mr. Walsh.

  “It’s ok, Pen. I won’t be long,” Sage said with much more bravery than she felt.

  “I’ll have her back soon. Don’t worry.” Mr. Walsh offered her a weak smile and pulled open the door. “Go,” he insisted.

  11. A PRESENT

  “We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.” Mr. Walsh’s eyes bored into Sage, making it hard for her to draw in a breath.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me,” Sage gulped. She wished Mr. Walsh hadn’t sent Penelope away. She felt incredibly alone.

  Mr. Walsh’s eyebrow shot up. “You didn’t?”

  She shook her head, and the two stared at each other in silence for a moment.

  “You must hate me,” Sage blurted out, fighting back tears.

  A look of helplessness fell over his face. He fingered his bracelet thoughtfully before responding. “Why would I hate you, Sage? You did exactly what I asked you to do.”

  “No.” She bit her lip and jerked her head back and forth. “I shouldn’t have told them—I almost didn’t.”

  He scowled. “That would have been a mistake.”

  Sage looked up in confusion. “But I saw—I saw them take you away.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  Her lip quivered. She dropped her eyes to the ground.

  “You did what I asked, and for that, I can only be grateful,” he reassured her.

  His response gave her the courage she needed to look him in the eye. “Why? Why would you be grateful for that?”

  Mr. Walsh gritted his teeth and stared blankly across the rooftop.

  “Sage, I let you do something more dangerous than you know, researching that era, taking relics from the Archives.”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Why?”

  He continued, ignoring her question again. “Do you realize what would have happened if you hadn’t told them the truth about what I’d allowed you to do?”

  “I would have been shunned,” she said slowly. Her face screwed up once more in an effort to hold back tears. “But you would’ve been ok!”

  “You’re half right,” he said grimly.
“But they knew most everything they needed to know already. It was much more a test of your loyalty—yours was the only one in question. Mr. Gaztok was already convinced I was at least a Lawless sympathizer.”

  Sage couldn’t hide her shock. “Are you?” The question slipped out. She hadn’t really meant to ask it.

  Mr. Walsh sighed. “That’s certainly what they wanted to know as well.” An edge of bitterness crept into his voice as his fingers instinctively traced the scar on his face.

  “I’m not entirely sure why I was allowed back. I imagine something big must have happened to clear me of their suspicions.” His eyebrow raised as an indirect question.

  “There was more graffiti,” Sage explained quickly. “In the girls’ dormitory.”

  His lips twitched in an effort to suppress a grin. “Do you remember what it said?”

  Sage nodded solemnly. “I do. ‘Sacrisvita. What you think you know, you don’t.’ Do you know what it means?”

  He was unsuccessful at stifling a chuckle. “Well, now, that explains it.” He tilted his head toward Sage, smiling mischievously. “I certainly can’t be the great Lawless leader at the Institution if Lawless messages show up without me around to direct them, can I?”

  “I guess not.” She furrowed her brow. “Why aren’t you answering any of my questions?” she pressed.

  “I can’t tell you everything you want to know right now, Sage. I wish I could.” He paused, his voice catching. “There isn’t time tonight. And you’re still so young. This is a burden well beyond your years.”

  “I’m ten now,” she said indignantly. Today was her birthday, after all.

  That brought a smile to his face. “That you are. A bit older than most of your fellow Level Nines, aren’t you?”

  She nodded quite seriously.

  “Then, as a birthday present, I will tell you a secret before I send you off to bed. And you must not tell anyone—not even your friend Penelope.”

  Sage felt a sense of dread. This didn’t sound like it was going to be a very good birthday present.