Page 41 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

They rose from their seats with me. "Thank you for your time, Miss Thompson. I'm sure we'll meet again soon. In the meantime, feel free to knock on our door whenever you have a question. We would be honored to guide you as much as possible."

I tried to force a smile and quickly left the room. I needed some Scotch. A lot of Scotch—to drown my seven-year-old brain in.

The next day, Friday morning marked the beginning of my new chapter as a student at the Scola.

My primary mission? Mastering the art of translating my emotions into magic, with a side of dodging situations where folks ended up bleeding out on bathroom tiles. To claim that my life goals had undergone a swift makeover overnight would be putting it mildly.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, irony flooded my thoughts. I had left a world where I was on top of my game, immersed in knowledge and logic, only to tumble into a realm of emotions and personal inadequacy.

My peers? Seven-year-old children. Whatever it was, it was humbling. It dawned on me that these children probably didn't even know the meaning of the word humbling. I sighed in defeat. It was only for a few weeks—how bad could it be?

As I entered the classroom, the chatter ceased, and all eyes turned expectantly toward me. I realized they likely mistook me for their teacher. Taking a seat at the back of the class, however, proved to be the most humiliating moment of my life.

I reached into my handbag for my notepad and pen when the actual teacher walked in.

"Good morning, class."

Scratch that. That was the most humiliating moment of my life.

Of course, James had to be the teacher. Why not?

It's not like my life had already maxed out on potential humiliation.

Let's add a bit more, shall we? Unable to actually hide under the table, I tried to make myself as small as possible, as if I could escape notice by cowering behind a seven-year-old. Talk about unachievable goals.

James looked up and caught sight of me attempting to conceal myself behind the kid in front of me.

His eyes locked onto my probably very red and embarrassed face.

I braced myself for a potentially crude remark, but to my surprise, he kept staring.

The expression in his eyes was undecipherable, and then he blinked, averting his gaze.

I could have sworn I saw the beginnings of a smile in the corners of his mouth, but he refrained from making any comment.

Again, merciful gods would have euthanized me right there.

"Right, let's dive right in. Who knows what a portal is?"

I was stunned by how many hands shot up so quickly.

"Yes, Jeremy?"

"A portal is a form of transportation. We create it through translation and move through it from one point in space to another, without time difference."

"Very good. Now, who knows how many different portals there are?"

All the kids eagerly raised their hands, and I sank even lower into my chair because I didn't.

"Morgan, tell me."

"Red portals are standing portals. They are one-sided, which means you can use one to get somewhere, but you can't use it to get back."

"Very good. Can you give an example of one and tell me why one would use it?"

"In the Universitas, there are a few in different buildings, so we can go wherever we want from here, but we can't use it to come back here. We need a personal one to return. Also, we have a few here leading into the Human World."

"Excellent. Does anyone else know about a different portal?"

"You have green ones, which are the portals you create yourself!" a boy in the front row shouted.

"Don't speak out of turn, Malec. But you are right," James responded. "Through the green personal portals, you can go as you please, moving where you want and coming back when and however you prefer. You have to create them yourself. Does anyone know how to navigate them?"

"You use the green drops on your Nexus," Malec shouted again.

James was visibly annoyed. "Malec, I just told you to wait your turn. You do not speak unless given the word. If I have to repeat myself one more time, I'll throw you through a portal without a Nexus myself."

His comment seemed somewhat pedagogically irresponsible to me, but it was nevertheless effective.

"But he's right," James continued, turning toward the other students. "You use the green drops for navigation and clearance. Are there any other portals?"

James looked at the class expectantly; it was evident there were other portals he wanted them to know about, but no one raised another hand.

"Is that really all?" he pressed. The kids glanced at each other, and I couldn't help but smile at the interaction between them and James.

"Has anyone ever seen a blue portal?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone.

The kids burst into laughter, clearly considering the idea of blue portals to be absurd.

"Aha, you all think I'm kidding, but alas, I am not. Blue portals are extremely rare and are used for time travel," he explained. The kids fell silent, exchanging uncertain glances, as if the answer to whether or not he was joking could be found on their classmates' faces.

"Not everyone can create them. One would need a special license to do so, a license you're not allowed to obtain in your first cycle. So, for starters, you would all have some aging to do." Laughter erupted among the kids.

I tentatively raised my hand. If I’m going to be in this class, I might as well participate.

James looked taken aback for a fraction of a second but composed himself immediately. "Yes, Emma?"

"So theoretically, I could go back in time and change anything I don't like about my past?" I asked. All the kids turned toward me, and I felt my face going crimson.

"No, it doesn't work like that," he answered softly. "It's more like you would be a tourist to a certain day and age. You would visit a specific time instead of a place. One can only observe but can never influence or change the events of the chosen time."

"So it would be like visiting a memory?" I persisted. I wanted to understand the entire concept, at least.

"Well, it's certainly a possibility, but you could do more than visit subjective times. For example, you could travel back to Rome in 753 BC and watch history unfold." He paused. "It's one of the reasons most licensed magi are historians or Specialists."

“What about the future?” I pressed.

James shook his head. “There's no energy or translation that permits us to peer into the future. Not even a portal can breach that boundary.”

I nodded in understanding. James was an effective teacher; I had to give him that. Which warmed my insides for some inexplicable reason.

"Right, does anyone know the limits of one or all portals?"

I settled back into my seat, attempting to keep my nerves in check, but my hand trembled, worse than during my first class at law school.

"Magi can't use portals through the Layers of protection around a Collective, unless they're an inhabitant," a kid called Lucy explained.

James raised an eyebrow. "Are there any exceptions to the rule?"

"Specialists have automatic clearance, which is woven into their energy signature," Lucy’s neighbor, Tom, chimed in.

“And what happens when someone does penetrate the Layers of a Collective without clearance?” James inquired, his gaze scanning through the class.

“They die!” three children in the front—whose names I didn’t catch—yelled out simultaneously and with far too much enthusiasm.

I was astonished by the knowledge of these young students. Maybe I was placed in the advanced class of seven-year-olds? Surely this level of intelligence wasn't normal for their age.

After what felt like ten minutes but was, in fact, over an hour, James dismissed the class, announcing that our next session would involve practical lessons on creating and the use of portals.

As I left the class, I felt James's eyes burning holes in my back. Before I could make my way out completely, I heard him call my name. I didn't turn around.

He hadn't spoken to me since my arrival, which was more than vexing. Honestly, what could he possibly have to say to me now?

"Emma, wait up!" He hurried to my side, but I chose to ignore him. "What, you're not talking to me now?" he asked, surprised.

"What, you are talking to me now?" I countered dryly.

He sighed. "I deserve that. I'm sorry. I should've been there more for you, and I don't have any excuse. I'm just very sorry about it. Can you maybe forgive me and we can give it another try?"

I halted, looking up at him in astonishment. My gods, his mood swings were really messing with my head. "What the heck do you want from me, James?" I asked, exasperated.

"I already told you," he answered, flashing a small but rare smile that made all my well-aimed anger evaporate. I sighed, knowing I would lose this battle with myself.

"Fine," I said through my teeth. "You're forgiven. Now, what do you want from me?"

"Just to be there for you. I nearly had a heart attack seeing you in my class. I hope that wasn't too hard for you?" he asked quickly, changing the subject. I let him.

“Well, it could've been a little less humiliating, maybe if someone else had been the instructor, for example.”

“I think Matthew was behind this, to be honest. I happen to know he was consulted by the triplets on your training. And considering I lost a bet to him, in which I had to take over this class, it wouldn’t surprise me if he orchestrated this himself.” James grimaced.

“Who is Matthew?” I asked.

“Matthew Conners, he is the top Recruiter for our Collective and one of my best friends. As such he’s in charge of educational programs for all magi. You'll meet him soon enough.”

His piercing green eyes held mine, and each second made it harder to look away. That warm, unsettling feeling started to flood my insides again. Darn it, what is that?