Chapter 4
It takes a few moments for the dean and chancellor to recover from their shock. The rest of us have the luxury of gawking at the Solitude’s back while he stares ahead, waiting for them to respond.
Marks is the first to nod, grimace, and then share a loaded look with the dean.
“Of course,” Dean Withers says, finally addressing the newcomer.
“This is highly . . . We’ll have to . . .
” She smooths back several strands of coppery hair and tugs on the hem of her suit jacket, trying to compose herself.
I’m guessing she’s the sort of woman who hates revealing any sign of weakness.
“Please step to the side,” she says, waving at the Solitude. “And we’ll get your paperwork in order once we complete the room assignments.”
The Solitude pauses, his shoulders tensing, almost as if he intends to defy the dean’s instructions.
From the purse of her lips, I wonder if she’s thinking the same.
But then he dips his head and walks over to the side of the room, smoothly spinning around to face everyone again before folding his impressive arms over his chest.
Dean Withers clears her throat and shares another look with Chancellor Marks before she addresses us.
“Your room assignments can be found on the screens at the end of the hall,” she says, gesturing toward a bank of monitors.
“Your things should already be waiting for you.” After a few last remarks, she dismisses us, and the room breaks into excited chatter.
Through it all, the Solitude stands still, quietly observing. I watch as the dean and chancellor approach him and confer for a moment before they all turn to leave, presumably to complete the “paperwork” the dean mentioned.
Before the Solitude joins them, he glances over a broad shoulder, and our gazes hook ever so briefly.
He blinks a pair of hazel eyes as a shiver creeps over my scalp.
Will they actually let him stay? Surely he’s a risk to every single person in this room.
Maybe the dean will offer him a polite handshake and encourage him to return home . . . wherever that might be.
“Poet!” Trinity is tugging on my hand, dragging me to the other end of the hall to find our roommates.
We squeal and hug when we see we’re bunking together, though our enthusiasm wanes after seeing the other two names on the list. Winter and Lacey are filling out our happy little quad.
Great. Silver and Hazel have been assigned to a different room, though at least they’ll be together.
Edward is rooming with Knox and his two best friends, Jackson and Sal. He grimaces, and I offer him a “sorry,” but he waves me off. I don’t think Edward minds them in general, but I understand he’s being loyal to me and my feelings. Trin is very lucky to have him.
Two staircases curve in opposite directions at the room’s far end, and Trinity, Edward, and I take the left.
The corridors of Amery are decorated like the great hall, with gleaming wood floors and ornately decorated walls covered in brocaded silk and gilded molding.
Stained glass sconces and marble statues line the walk as we make our way to another staircase.
Trinity says goodbye to Edward before we turn toward the girls’ wing.
Technically, this is also the House Fiama wing, but we aren’t full-fledged Society members yet, only children of the pledged.
New Manhattan loves a good ceremony, and we won’t be officially welcomed until we pass our initiations and offer allegiance over the next few months.
I glance back to see a group of cogs, including the girl I smiled at outside, following us before they duck into a room across the hall.
Then we enter a massive space with four beds, piled with lace pillows and covered in luxurious white sheets, pushed up against each corner. The walls are covered in white brocade silk, and a crystal chandelier sparkles in the middle, most likely foraged from a fancy hotel or house.
Next to each bed is a white dresser and a wardrobe, while at the foot sits a desk, shelves, and a chair. Our boxes from home wait in neat stacks in our respective corners, and large windows look out onto the Central Park Tree Farm and the distant Wastes beyond.
To the left of the academy stands another tall tower, the Citadel, which houses the government headquarters of The Shield on the upper floors, as well as the Tempestade, the Storm Guard’s military operations, in the lower half.
If Amery is twisting curves and whimsical details, the Citadel is all straight lines and efficiency.
Dozens of wires run out from the roof and the platform where General Sol channels electricity into the city.
I frown as I watch the clouds gather in the sky, swirling and tumbling.
I managed to put aside thoughts of the itching in my hands in the wake of the Solitude’s arrival and the excitement of our welcome, but the itching is constant now, burning through my fingers and limbs.
Joining the Storm Guard would mean I could hide in plain sight. I wouldn’t have to suppress my need to absorb the storms’ energy. As a Breaker, I’d be expected to channel small currents of Spark.
At home, I could lock myself in my room and lean out my window, but now I’m surrounded by people for the next eight months.
I can’t tell Trinity my secret. If she knew, she’d be obligated to turn me in. I know she wouldn’t, but it’s safer for both of us this way.
I’ve heard the rumors of a family who lived below us and hid their child’s abilities. The parents were jailed and later executed for deceiving everyone and breaking the law. I’m not sure what really happened to the child, and I’m not sure I want to know.
I know it makes me a terrible person, but my fear outweighs the guilt of keeping this secret.
Someone knocks into my shoulder from behind, forcing me to catch my balance with a step. Winter scowls before she marches to the corner where her boxes sit. Then comes Lacey, flipping her hair like she’s trying to relieve a crick in her neck. I can’t believe this is who I’m stuck with.
“C’mon,” Trinity says, directing me to my corner. “Ignore them.”
She stops me before my bed, adorned with Amery’s standard-issue sheets. Eventually, we’ll decorate and make our spaces our own, but today is a clean slate. A chance to start fresh.
My palms itch intensely, so I press them to my heart to steady my breathing.
In and out, I concentrate on keeping it churning at a normal pace.
“Poet?” comes Trinity’s soft voice. “You okay?”
I nod and start unpacking my things. Anything to distract me.
I open the drawers and lay my clothing neatly into their slots. When I come upon Teddy, I check that no one’s looking and stuff him in a bottom drawer to keep him out of sight. It’s not the same as having him watch over me, but at least I know he’s there.
“Let’s get some lunch,” Winter says to Lacey. She’s changed into a more casual version of our school attire—a gray sleeveless tunic with a high collar that falls just past her hips and thick black leggings with bands of silver running up the sides.
The two girls exit the room, but not before tossing another look in my direction. I can hear their mean-spirited giggling from the hall.
As I change into my own casual attire, the clouds thicken, and I resist the prickles biting at the back of my neck. Checking myself in the mirror, I grip my jeweled mask pendant in my fist, trying to focus on something other than my discomfort.
“Poet?” Trinity asks again, softer this time. “What’s the matter?”
I inhale a long breath and then turn to face her, plastering on a smile.
“Nothing. Let’s go see what’s to eat.”
She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. Inexplicably, her corner is already messy, her clothing strewn about. Her bedroom has always been a disaster, and now that we’re sharing a space, this might be the one thing we end up fighting about.
Her gray eyes brim with concern. “You sure?”
Another spike of itchy energy fizzles up my arms, and I scratch my elbows, trying to make it look natural.
“I’m sure,” I say. “Let’s go find Edward.”
She hesitates for another moment and then stands up and crosses the room. Throwing her arms around me, she hugs me tight. It takes me a moment to hug her back.
“What’s this about?” I ask. She pulls away and smiles.
“I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I love you, Poe.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I’ve waited for this for so long. The distance from my father. Being here with my friends while pursuing my dream of joining the Storm Guard.
“I don’t know what I would do without you,” I whisper, taking her hand and squeezing.
She grins and does a little hop. “We’re going to have the best time.”
“We really are,” I promise. “Let’s go.”
As we leave the room, I glance out the window once again. Tingles climb over my scalp, and my chest constricts. I don’t know how long I can hide this, but I have no choice.
My life depends on it.