9. Ahmina
AHMINA
The Academy sat at the far eastern edge of the city, where old Jarrah town existed before the city knew anything of Defenders and towering walls.
At its entrance sat the main castle, which stretched five stories, towers pinning each corner and another monstrous one in the center.
Tucked away behind the castle, Defender Village was somewhat of a legend.
Ahmina popped up on her tiptoes to see if she could get a better view, but her legs shook, and she couldn’t keep her balance steady.
She stared, eyes wide, at the tall golden gates in front of her.
To pass through them was to walk straight into the belly of an unknown beast. Behind her was the rest of Jarrah, beckoning her to return to its safe embrace.
Jarrah may be against her, a classist enemy of sorts, but at least it was an enemy she knew well.
Was she really ready for this?
In an effort to calm herself, she sucked in a breath and searched the crowd for Rory.
As usual she was early and Rory had yet to arrive.
She gripped the strap on her shoulder bag, debating her options.
She didn’t have to go, she reasoned with herself; she could claim the life she was dealt—a life of servitude and poverty.
It would be cruel, at times, but she knew how to survive.
She would survive.
Once she passed through the golden gates, there was a significant chance she wouldn’t.
Pacing, she teetered on abandoning her plan. The Academy gates felt like they were closing in on her, wrapping around her neck. She placed a hand on her chest, her breathing stifled.
Every scenario of what could go wrong played out in extensive, gruesome detail in her mind: her head getting ripped off by a creature, hanging by a single thread of tendon, fangs tearing into the soft flesh of her neck, and so on.
This was a huge mistake.
She spun on her heels and sped back down the street toward home. She couldn’t do it.
As quickly as she turned, she collided into a man’s chest with a thump, her eyes distant, focused on the ground. “Ugh. Sorry.”
“Cold feet?”
She looked up to find the Slayer from the day before, wearing the same Academy uniform, the same tousled golden hair, and the same boyish smirk.
“Are you stalking me?” Her words were clipped.
“You’re the one stalking me.”
She lowered her voice. “I don’t have your book, okay?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “Actually, I’m headed to the Academy.” He looked around and then lowered his voice to mimic Ahmina’s as if it was some big secret. “You know, Initiation, second year.”
Embarrassed, Ahmina frowned. Of course he wasn’t here because of her. “Excuse me,” she said, pushing past him.
“You’re going the wrong way, Clever!” he said to her back, and she turned around to face him.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass first years?” She spat out the words, fists bunched at her sides.
“Oh, so you are a first year? Because it looks to me like you’re running away.”
“I wasn’t running—” she stopped herself.
She was running. Well, speed walking, technically.
She glared at him and crossed her arms in defense.
He simply stared back. Time slowed, despite the crowd thickening around them.
The truth was painful to admit, but in some weird way, it felt good to say it out loud. “Okay, so I was.”
“Running away.”
“Yes. Running away.”
He nodded, satisfied with her admission.
They stood, studying each other as people brushed past in both directions.
He was a head taller than her, his light golden skin decorated with a few patchwork tattoos on his right arm.
Once again, she found herself getting lost in his kaleidoscope eyes as they bore down on her, sparkling in the sun.
It would have been easy to linger there.
Instead, she forced her gaze away, breaking the building tension between them.
“I just—” She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Why not?”
Ahmina scowled. Why not? Because she was terrified. Because she wasn’t cut out for it. Because she wanted to live, even if it meant settling. Because she wasn’t brave enough. Because seeing a Soul Snatcher the day before felt like some sort of bad omen, predicting her untimely death.
Because she was a coward.
She was desperate to escape the life of an orphan.
But if she was honest, it wasn’t just her longing for a better life.
Defenders were respected. Admired. Given opportunities in society that she would never have otherwise, and she craved it like the moon craved the earth, always chasing it around in circles.
So much so that she was willing to risk her life to obtain it.
But that’s the thing about death, it doesn’t seem that bad until it’s right there, knocking at the door.
Then, instinct kicks in and tells you to turn and run.
To fight. To do everything you can to stay alive.
And right now, Ahmina wanted to listen to that instinct.
“MINA!” Rory’s bushy auburn hair pushed through the crowd. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Hey, sorry, I—” She looked quickly at the man before her attention returned to Rory. “—got distracted.”
“Who are you?” Rory asked, hands on her hips. The scowl of a protective best friend spread across her pale freckled face as she eyed him.
“Rhett Lennox. But everyone just calls me Lennox,” he said.
Ahmina couldn’t help but notice the way a chunk of hair fell into his face as he stuck out his hand to Rory, his unruly demeanor so effortless.
“Okay, well, we have to hurry; first years are already going in.” Rory ignored Lennox’s outstretched hand, instead grabbing Ahmina’s and pulling her back down the street toward the gates.
“Rory, I don’t think I can go,” Ahmina said, swallowing the lump in her throat as Rory led them through the crowd and into a small clearing around the now open gates.
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing you do when you get too high strung and anxious. Snap out of it!” Her fingers clicked in front of Ahmina’s nose. “Come on.” She pulled Ahmina up to the two guards standing at the entrance.
“Hi, we’re first years checking in.” She pointed to herself and then her nervous friend as she announced their names.
“Rory Maeleena and Ahmina Ori.” The guard studied them before he checked his papers.
After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, during which Ahmina considered abandoning Rory completely and running home, the guard waved them through.
As she stepped forward, she felt him behind her, his voice a low promise in her ear: “See you in there, Clever.” Then he disappeared into a crowd of anxious first years who had descended along the path before them.
“What did he want, anyway?” Rory asked, as they walked toward the castle.
Ahmina shook her head. “Nothing.”