Chapter 20
I don’t know how, but eventually I must have fallen asleep, because Saipha shakes me awake. Sunlight streams in through the windows, and I let out a long sigh. We’ve survived another night.
I stare out into the dim light of the greenhouse, forcing my attention to stay sharp. We’re still the only ones here, so it must be very early. The other supplicants aren’t roaming the halls yet, keeping themselves busy with whatever they find.
“I’m eating everything they serve in the refectory this morning and then having seconds.” Saipha stretches and then extends a hand to me, helping me up. “Then we’re finding you a key.”
I can’t help but agree. But, as we’re leaving, a tiny cluster of red, poofy buds catches my attention. The little plant is growing happily in a pot on a high shelf.
“What is it?” Saipha stops as well.
“Surely not…” I mutter.
“What?” She blinks.
I cross to the pot. It’s just slightly out of line from the rest. As if someone moved it more recently than the others. I lift it, and sure enough, underneath is a shining key.
“Oh, Valor bless.” Saipha curses under her breath. “How did we miss that?”
The flower—more like a weed—is called dragon’s breath. It grows in the cracks of stone near the wall. We pull it up and burn it because it’s poisonous. Pretty much anything with the name “dragon” in Vinguard is going to try to kill you.
“I swear I checked this greenhouse top to bottom on the first day,” I grumble.
“I wouldn’t be shocked if the inquisitors added it later.” Saipha’s tone is just as sour as mine.
“This place is the worst.”
“Well, at least that’s one thing done for the day.” Saipha tries to shrug it off.
I want to smash the pot against the wall, but instead I put it down delicately and grab the key.
“Let’s get food…and try not to look so murderous on the way?” she suggests with a wink.
I force a smile. “Better?”
“Somehow worse.” She laughs, and it’s a bit forced but still genuine. I can’t help but join her. If I don’t laugh, this place is going to make me weep.
The refectory is connected to the central atrium by way of a short staircase down—as we pass the dragon tapestries, I give Lucan another angry thought. On the way, we stop to exchange my key with an inquisitor for a key to the room across from Saipha’s on the fourth floor.
By the time we reach the refectory, the other supplicants have already settled in for the most part.
There are seven round tables set for eight, which is three tables more than necessary—my original count for the number of supplicants was only two off.
I wonder if this is how many tables there always are in the monastery, or if they intentionally set it up so not every table would have to be full.
So people could pick and choose who they wanted to sit with—ally with.
Already, it looks like factions are forming. Cindel holds court with a group of four. She straightens as I enter.
“You look awful. Rough night?” She tries to paint it as concern.
I see right through it. “This is what someone who spent the night hunting for knowledge and skills looks like, Cindel. But thank you for asking.”
I turn away, scanning the room. But I don’t see the boy coming straight for me until the last second.
I try to dodge out of the way, but I swear he walks straight into me intentionally, bumping my shoulder, and I nearly end up with an entire bowl of hot stew down my front.
Never thought the vicar’s training would come in handy for dodging food.
“Watch where you’re going!” A familiar set of light-brown eyes meets mine. Benj, Cindel’s creepy Lucan look-alike.
“Sorry,” I mumble and take a wide step around the spilled soup.
“Why are you apologizing to him?” Saipha steps in. “He walked into you on purpose.”
“Why would I do that?” Benj can’t even fight a smile to avoid looking guilty. “Now my soup is on the floor. I guess I have to take your portion.”
“Fine,” I sigh, not really wanting to deal with this after the past two nights I’ve had.
“No, it’s not fine.” Saipha takes another step, nearly going chest-to-chest with Benj. “You’re not walking into her, then taking her food.”
“I only think it’s fair, since Benj lost his because of her,” Cindel chimes in without getting up from the table, because of course she does.
“It’s all right, Saipha, just let him take mine.”
She grumbles the entire time he goes up for another portion but doesn’t fight.
That’s how I know she’s also exhausted. As Saipha gets her bowl, I scan the room, searching for a familiar tall frame.
When I don’t see Lucan anywhere, I pretend the tightening in my chest has nothing to do with wondering if he survived last night.
Saipha is stepping away from the communal trays when I feel a set of eyes on me.
I pointedly ignore Lucan and the relief flooding my body.
It will do me no good to soften an inch for this guy.
Every time I’m the least bit vulnerable, he reminds me that he’ll turn on me if he has to.
Him having a choice or not in the matter doesn’t change that it’s dangerous for me to be vulnerable around him.
But also…I’m glad he’s all right.
I pick a table at random and end up sitting with a boy that has one blue eye and one brown.
It’s weird to see someone with different-colored eyes when one of them isn’t golden.
Saipha sits down across from him and slides her tray between us.
I don’t fight the offer, taking a few bites of the mushroom soup.
“Horowin Kael,” he introduces himself. “And I know who both of you are, obviously.”
I take a bite of fried egg. “Where are you from?”
“Undercrust, second level.”
I pause, spoon hanging in midair. “Undercrust?”
“You say it like I’m the special one here.” He laughs. It’s a warm, full-bellied sound.
“I don’t meet many people from the Undercrust.” Even though travel between the upper and lower halves of Vinguard is freely available, it’s rare for citizens to traverse the two.
Those who live below do so to avoid the skies.
And those who live above see it as a quiet shame to retreat into the depths.
We’ve given up so much of our land, few of us can bear the thought of ceding one plot more.
“Me neither,” Saipha adds.
“We five are.” He gestures to the other people who were sitting at his table when we arrived, introducing each of them.
So this is the little group he’s forming…
Good of them to let us join, though. “You’re looking at all the eighteen-year-olds this year rounded up from the city underneath the city. ”
“Only five?” That surprises me, considering many women go to the Undercrust for the duration of their pregnancies—the one time doing so isn’t met with judgment from those living on the surface.
I can’t imagine having a child. Partly because I’ve never been sure if I’m going to survive long enough, be it curse or dragon attack or something horrible befalling me for not actually being Valor Reborn. But also because it’s hard to imagine bringing new life into this world.
“Most people in the Undercrust want their children to grow up with the sun,” Horowin says.
“They think it’ll make them braver,” Yenni, a girl with a thick, dark braid, adds.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen the sun?” Saipha asks. I hope on her behalf the question isn’t offensive…because I want to know as well.
Horowin nods. “My first time on the surface. I’ve studied it a lot, though.”
Others nod as well.
A guy named Ulven says, “I’ve been up once.
But just during the middle of the day to avoid the dragons.
Too bright up here for my taste.” Given the ghostly hue of his skin, I don’t blame him.
He’s even paler than me, and my skin sometimes seems like it burns at the idea of the sun.
“I’ll be very happy tending a farm in Font light when all this is over. ”
The idea that someone could live their whole life and never hear the bells. Never experience the horror of a dragon attack… It’s so foreign, these people might as well be from a different world.
I’ve a thousand questions I want to ask, but I don’t have the chance. Everyone’s attention is suddenly on the entrance of the refectory. I follow their wide-eyed stares.
Vicar Darius holds my gaze and smiles.