The Relic (Sacrisvita Book 3) Page 6

But it was useless. She’d won the match, and they both knew it. His eyes squeezed shut in defeat, and his hand slapped the mat before he could pass out.

  Lita released her hold on him immediately, scrambling off of him and backing up to the edge of the mat. The Coordinator had already stepped between them, declaring Lita the winner and sending her to wait for her next fight as Kardel struggled to his feet.

  Sage’s eyes were glued to Kardel’s face. She could see the rage building inside of him as he watched Lita walk away in triumph.

  She shivered. She hoped she wouldn’t be paired someday with someone who hated her that much.

  14. INTERRUPTED

  “Ready to call it a day?” Lita called across the stacks.

  Sage snapped closed the book she’d been flipping through. Another dead end. Ironically, this one was completely blank as well. Maybe people just liked having decorative books before Eprah and databooks, Sage thought.

  “Sure,” she called back. She started to shove the book back into the depths of the pile but then changed her mind, slipping it into the section where she kept relics of possible interest.

  Lita appeared at the intersection at the end of Sage’s row.

  “Find anything good today?”

  Sage quickly decided not to share anything about the book she’d just put away. It was doubtful anything would come of it anyway. She shook her head.

  “Yeah, me neither,” Lita frowned. “You think Mr. Gramples is hiding the good stuff while we’re gone?” She grinned mischievously.

  Sage smiled.

  “We’ve still gotta get back before Mr. Strick misses us. I mean, I know Mr. Walsh won’t care, but that man…” Lita’s nostrils flared in contempt as they walked toward the door.

  “I know.” Sage nodded. They held very similar feelings for the replacement history instructor.

  “I wonder why he’s even still around,” Lita mused. “I mean, Mr. Walsh has been back for more than a month. You’d think he’d have caught up on all his classes by now.”

  Sage furrowed her brow. She hadn’t given it much thought, but Lita was right. Mr. Walsh had probably caught up weeks ago, but Mr. Strick was still present in every class and at every Interest Society session, always looking over Mr. Walsh’s shoulder.

  In fact, Mr. Walsh hadn’t even worked as a Coordinator at the Bokja tournament. Mr. Strick had explained that he simply needed more time to catch up on classroom preparations, but now that she thought about it, that story seemed unlikely. Mr. Walsh had been an instructor for years, and the curriculum never deviated from what Eprah mandated—students took the same lessons every year so that the final exams and ultimate career placements were fair.

  Eprah mandated almost everything—their classes, their careers, their worth—even who they would fight in the tournament. She had to choke back tears of anger as she thought about all the choices being stripped from her life every day.

  “Lita?” Sage hesitated.

  “What’s on your mind, girlie?” She winked at her young friend as they started up a set of stairs.

  “I was just thinking about the tournament.”

  “And how awesome I did?” she teased.

  Sage gave her a small shove. “Not exactly.”

  “Hey, I came in seventh overall—that’s pretty good, ma’am. Means I could kick your butt anytime.”

  “I know, I know.” Sage held up her hands in mock defeat. “I just meant that I was thinking about your one match. You know, with Kardel.” She grimaced, waiting for Lita’s reaction.

  The brightness in Lita’s eyes dimmed slightly.

  “You know we’re supposed to be paired at the end of the year?” Bitterness laced her speech.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes wish he’d trip off the roof of the Institution—or be paired with a benefactor.” Lita looked away for a moment before continuing. “I know it’s awful. I don’t really wish it on him, but… I definitely don’t wish myself on him either.”

  Her jaw jutted forward. “I’m actually hoping the pairings get shuffled around enough this year that it won’t be an issue, but there’s no way to know until graduation.”

  Sage pursed her lips and stared at the ground. She was beginning to regret having brought up the subject.

  “It was his own arrogance that made him lose the fight, you know,” Lita recalled with a faint smile. “I suppose I should be grateful he’s so pompous. He would’ve won if he hadn’t flipped me over to my back.”

  She shook her head grimly. “But he wanted to look me in my eyes and tell me I was his and that he’d do whatever he wanted with me. If he’d just done the same move I did a few seconds later, there’s no way I could’ve gotten back up.”

  Sage looked at her questioningly.

  “You have to be able to breathe, Sage. You can’t fight if you can’t breathe,” Lita explained. “Word of advice? Whatever you do, don’t let your opponent put you on your stomach. It’s nearly impossible to fight back from that position.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said wryly.

  Lita stopped abruptly and held out her arm—which Sage ran straight into.

  “Ow—” Sage’s protest barely had a chance to escape her lips. Lita clamped her hand down on Sage’s mouth, silencing her. She held a finger to her lips and jerked her head toward the wall.

  Sage wrinkled her forehead and pushed Lita’s hand away. She glared at her but didn’t make a sound. Satisfied that her young friend would keep quiet, Lita motioned for Sage to follow.

  The two girls tiptoed to the edge of the wall and craned their necks so that they could hear better. Two men’s voices carried down the hall toward them, but it was difficult to make out what was being said.

  Lita grinned down at Sage and tiptoed into the next hall so she could hear better. Sage followed closely behind her. The voices were growing louder. This time when Lita froze before the bend in the hallway, Sage was ready and sidestepped her to avoid another collision.

  The men’s voices were much clearer now. And they didn’t sound happy with one another.

  “…don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating.”

  “Just because Lyle said you don’t need a babysitter anymore doesn’t mean that I trust you.”

  The girls exchanged a glance. The voices belonged to Mr. Walsh and Mr. Strick.

  “Clearly not, Jeremy. But then, when have you ever?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend being so informal with me, Mr. Walsh.”

  Mr. Walsh’s tone was terse. “Funny. I thought the whole point of this conversation was for you to let me know that I didn’t have to follow your recommendations anymore.”

  “You know this isn’t my call,” Mr. Strick growled. “If I had my way, you’d still be locked up. And I’d be the one in charge of your interrogation.”

  “Well,” Mr. Walsh said slowly, “as I’ve been declared innocent of Lawless connections and sympathies, I suppose it’s a good thing for both our sakes that you weren’t in charge of my interrogation. I know how Lyle hates a lack of results.”

  “Hardly. You may have been found innocent, but that does not serve to remove you from all suspicion!” Mr. Strick raised his voice and then quickly lowered it. “And it does not serve to remove you from my suspicion. A fact which you may want to consider carefully going forward.”

  “Jeremy, we’ve been over this. There was no way for me to have ordered the Lawless propaganda—I was incarcerated when it happened. And I certainly didn’t have the time or notice to give an order to anyone else before I was arrested. There may be a leak at the Institution—or there may not be—I don’t know. What I do know is that, if there is one, it’s not me.”

  “I recall quite clearly what happened. I was watching. You were on my screen like every other day, and Lyle himself had paid you a visit—”

  Lita looked down and grabbed her friend’s hand, quickly tiptoeing backward and dragging her back along the way they’d just come. Sage
glanced up, startled.

  Play along, she mouthed.

  They were nearly to the last turn in the hallway when Lita released her hand and started walking forward again, this time without any attempt at being quiet. Sage screwed up her face in confusion but followed Lita’s lead.

  “My project’s going to be awesome this year,” Lita said at a normal volume. “I’m actually really looking forward to giving my presentation. You?”

  Sage stared at her blankly for a moment. Lita frowned and elbowed her in the shoulder.

  “Um, yeah, I guess,” Sage replied uncertainly as they got closer to the corner they’d just been listening at. She cast a glance up at her friend, positive that she’d lost her mind. She couldn’t hear their instructors speaking anymore.

  “Of course you are,” Lita continued. “Most people wouldn’t have chosen the Historical Interest Society for a second year. You’re basically crazy—in a good way,” she laughed as they rounded the corner.

  “Oh!” Lita exclaimed, bowling into Mr. Strick. “Ouch! Wow, sorry, Mr. Strick! I didn’t see you there.”

  Mr. Strick glared at Lita. “Clumsy girl,” he muttered under his breath.

  He turned back to Mr. Walsh. “This conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

  “Oh, I think it really is.” Mr. Walsh smiled. “Have a good day, Jeremy.”

  Mr. Strick fumed and stormed down the hallway, leaving the others behind.

  Mr. Walsh turned his attention to his students. “Well, I’m certainly glad to see both of you ladies,” he grinned. “Your company is much preferred to stuffy old men.”

  Lita smirked. “I think we’re just glad you’re back, Teach.”

  “Well now, I think it’s just about time to head up with the others, wouldn’t you say? It’s almost time to head back to the Institution.” Mr. Walsh motioned for the girls to follow him.

  Sage was trying to hide her confusion. What had possessed Lita to do that? She realized she was frowning at each tile before she stepped on it, so she lifted her eyes to see if her classmate was giving her any clues.

  Lita wasn’t looking at her, but a slight smile played at her lips. Sage stifled a frustrated sigh and looked over at Mr. Walsh. He had a similar grin on his face. She couldn’t help feeling like she’d missed something—that the two of them were sharing some sort of secret that she wasn’t privy to.

  15. CHANGES

  The atmosphere in the Grand Hall was more tense than Sage remembered it being the past couple years. It seemed as if the crowd was growing more anxious as the Founders’ Day program dragged on.

  She guessed the crowd’s uneasiness had something to do with how the day ended the year before. After Mr. Gaztok’s speech about the need for citizens’ complete loyalty in Eprah, there had been an outburst and a very public Lawless graffiti decoration in the same room they were all sitting in now.

  Not that anyone really seemed to know what sacrisvita meant anyway, but it was clearly a term only associated with Lawless rebels. And that was all anyone needed to know to be nervous about seeing it pop up again.

  Sage was fidgeting in her seat beside Penelope. She’d completely tuned out the headmaster’s droning in favor of people-watching, but Penelope was keeping busy by counting the number of times he used the word “great” in his speech. By her report, he was up to thirty-seven.

  Of course, Penelope eventually lost count because the headmaster generously paused his speech long enough to allow two of the members of the Quorum of Five to speak as well. By the time they were done with their brief discourses, she’d switched to counting the Quorum members’ use of “honor” and had lost track of the previous tally the headmaster had racked up.

  It was no real loss though. His last time back in the center of the stage was simply to introduce Mr. Gaztok once more. Besides, she would have only been able to add three more “greats” to the total.

  Sage shivered as Mr. Gaztok took his place on stage, once again lecturing about the duty and loyalty of Eprah’s citizenry. Penelope shot Sage a worried look, but she simply shook her head slightly and kept her attention on the man speaking to the crowd.

  The memory of him and Mr. Gramples standing over her during her interrogation in the Archives hadn’t left her. He hadn’t said much, but he was clearly in charge of something important—something in Eprah’s fight against the Lawless. Given the way she felt about Eprah and the Institution, it probably wasn’t a good thing that he already knew who she was.

  Mr. Gaztok didn’t mention any sort of incentive this year for turning in the Lawless or their sympathizers. She wondered why—had it not been productive enough for them last year? Or perhaps they were overrun with false reports? She could only imagine the desperation the citizens might feel for the opportunity to earn more Chances than they would otherwise have.

  She could feel the collective sigh of relief that was released as soon as the speeches were over and the audience was dismissed. No major warnings from Eprah’s legislature, no unsettling messages written on the walls. Just a simple celebration of their beloved nation. This year, everything was as it should be.

  Headmaster Alexander stood in the center of the stage one last time to dismiss the crowd. As always, the students were instructed to leave first before the streets became unmanageably crowded with everyone returning to work. The older, wealthier citizens inside the building were next to be dismissed, but they were forced to wait until the last of the young stragglers were gone before exiting their rows.

  As they were making their way through the aisles past the wealthy residents, Sage searched the faces for anyone she recognized. She didn’t have many opportunities to connect with people outside of the Institution’s walls, and it was always exciting to see friends who had already graduated, even if just for a brief moment. Her eyes lit up when she noticed a familiar young woman standing nearby, wearing a refined, form-fitting blue dress.

  Rosalind’s eyes met Sage’s and widened. Sage smiled widely and opened her mouth to say hello but stopped abruptly. Rosalind pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly before looking away, staring straight ahead, unblinking.

  Sage was confused by the icy greeting she’d just received from her old friend—in fact, it was more like she’d been snubbed completely. She glanced down and noticed Rosalind’s hand resting deliberately on the glossy fabric stretched over her slightly protruding stomach. Only then did Sage think to look beyond Rosalind to the man standing beside her.

  He had to be at least twice her age. He was attractive enough—tall and muscular with gray-black hair and dark eyes—but a sort of ominous cloud hung over him that made Sage distrust him. She could only assume he was Rosalind’s benefactor. Edward Grayson.

  She didn’t have much time to question the odd reaction. Their class was quickly being shooed through the first set of doors into the atrium. Her eyes fell on someone standing at the edge of the room, another member of the previous year’s graduating class.

  “Kai! I didn’t know you’d be out here already.” Sage’s smile faltered when she realized Kai didn’t seem nearly so happy to see her.

  “I’m waiting for my mentor,” he said coolly, barely glancing at her. He shifted his weight and kept his arms crossed and his eyes straight ahead.

  She stepped outside of the current of children so that they could talk for a moment. She pretended his aloofness didn’t bother her.

  “I just saw Rosalind,” she continued. “Did you know she was pregnant?”

  His eyes flickered with anger. “Of course she is,” he snapped. “They all are.”

  “Oh,” Sage said dully. She realized he was right—all the girls who had just graduated ought to be pregnant by now. It wasn’t really news.

  “Well, how have you b—” Her jaw nearly hit the floor when another man approached them, taking up his place beside Kai.

  “Are we about ready to get back to work?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kai’s mentor was Mr. Gaztok.<
br />
  The older man looked down and noticed Sage standing there gaping at him. It was obvious he recognized her from their previous encounter. His eyes never left Sage’s, but his next words weren’t directed at her.

  “A friend of yours?” He didn’t bother to hide the venom in his voice.

  “Not really,” Kai replied curtly. “I only know her because I had to train her in Bokja last year—part of a punishment for a misstep with another student. I actually stopped training her early because she needed more of an attitude adjustment than I could give her.”

  Sage felt like he’d just punched her in the gut. She knew he’d been mad, but Rosalind had assured her that he still cared. After that comment, she didn’t see how it could be true.

  “I see.” Mr. Gaztok spoke in a low rumble. He seemed pleased with the answer he’d received because he turned his full attention back to Kai. “Let’s go. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

  She stared after the two men as they walked away. She stood dumbfounded, frozen in place.

  Fortunately, Penelope had hung back when Sage stopped to talk to Kai. She came up behind her friend and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her back into the flow of exiting students. Penelope hadn’t heard the conversation, but she could tell by the look on Sage’s face that it hadn’t gone well, and she didn’t press her to talk.

  Sage was grateful again for her friend’s patience and silent comfort, but she was unable to hold back the tears. Everything inside her ached. She was scared for Rosalind—she knew something wasn’t right. And she was deeply hurt by Kai’s dismissal of their friendship.

  “Everything’s all wrong,” she whispered, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

  Penelope nodded and squeezed her hand. More than ever before, she understood.

  16. HIDING

  A puff of dust escaped the pile as Sage plopped an unwieldy oversized blanket back on the stack. It unfurled as soon as she released it, slowly falling back toward her. It wouldn’t stay put. She caught it and shoved it back farther, and a series of loud thuds rang out almost immediately on the opposite side of the aisle. Sage grimaced.