Page 3

Holy Ganymede, this is insane! I had chills by the crapload. The good kind, fizzing up like a shaken soda bottle and ready to pop. We walked through a main hallway in the South Wing, not as spectators but as legit students. Even the layout began to make more sense after looking at the stained glass—different colors for different wings. Sweet, sweet freedom jiggled deliciously in my fair hands, delivered by the most awesome place imaginable. I felt like all my dreams were coming true at once. Even dreams I didn’t know I’d had.

“I wonder what we’ll see first,” Persie whispered. My compadre in life. My sister from another mister. The yin to my yang. Call me a cheeseball, but I’d have gone to the ends of the Earth for her, and then some. And it felt so freaking good to be there with her, stepping out into our brave new world together, knowing we’d earned the right to stand in these hallways.

“These are the training halls.” Charlotte Basani, the badass of her mom’s Institute, opened the doors to let us take a look. I wasn’t one for hero worship, but heroine worship—yeah, I could do that. And I had some major heart eyes for this woman. She had the kind of hunting rap sheet that turned me green with envy, but I wasn’t jealous—global, cross-continental missions to wrangle the rarest and most dangerous beasts of all: bahamuts, wendigos, and basilisks. But, at the end of the day, everyone was in a one-horse race against themselves, so jealousy was a waste of time. I preferred to champion folks instead of creating an enemy that didn’t exist.

I craned my neck to get a look at the training facilities. No surprise that the cadet corps was up front, hogging the doorway. “Can you see?” I asked, looking down at Persie.

“Just about,” she replied from her tiptoes.

A row of glass rooms lay beyond the main door, sort of like squash courts but way bigger. The panel sets were frosted, but I could make out hazy shadows moving behind, and I could hear Grand Slam grunts from within. Hey, even hunters needed their privacy while training. It wouldn’t have been too impressive to watch the blooper reel on our first day. We needed to see the slick end-product, the thing that would trick us into thinking everything would be smooth sailing—even though we all knew this was going to be the hardest thing any of us had ever done. And I included the GIs in that.

“You’ll train here with Hosseini. He’ll teach you to hunt. It goes up in stages, so you’ll start with the basics—types of attack, defensive strategies, the use of devices—then work toward intermediate level, which is more to do with your personal hunting style, and so on.” Charlotte kept things straight and to the point, and I liked that. No messing about, just “here’s this, and here’s how it’ll serve you.” I imagined she had the same approach to her hunting. “If you ever get lost, ask for directions. It takes a few weeks to get the hang of the layout, so don’t be too proud to get help. That goes for most things in this place.”

If only the rest of us had an advantage like yours. I didn’t mean that in a bitter way. Having an edge was useful, and she had the Basani well of monster knowledge at her fingertips. Honestly, it was kind of freaky how much she looked like her mom and, obviously, her aunt as well. Charlotte had the same hazel eyes and olive skin, though her golden blonde hair verged on the strawberry persuasion. A hint of her dad, probably.

“If you’ve seen enough, we’ll move on.” Charlotte walked off without waiting. She knew we’d follow.

She pointed out various studies and suites as we headed back along endless corridors, containing know-how that we didn’t need in our first year. Persie wasn’t in a very chatty mood, and I couldn’t blame her. She was clearly dog-tired from playing defense against her nightmares. My best pal had been through some gnarly crap lately, troubles that didn’t show any sign of letting up. We both hoped her Purges had waned, but we also knew wishful thinking when we saw it. Even though I knew it was stupid, I hated dream-me for not stepping up. I didn’t always get it right, like with the scorpion fiasco, but I wouldn’t ever stop trying to help my best friend. If anyone ever tried to lock her up, I’d throw everything I had at them.

“Here, we have the Theorem Complex.” Charlotte paused in front of two enormous double doors. They really had a thing for those, here. Turning the huge, clover-shaped handles, she pushed both doors open like a dramatic movie heroine.

A cathedral-like beauty of a room invited our necks to strain upward. “Room” didn’t even begin to cover it. You could’ve fit an aircraft hangar in there and still had wiggle room. Curving staircases snaked up to elaborate balconies, where trainees and graduates sat at mahogany desks, flipping through the million dusty books that lined never-ending shelves. On the ground floor, modern glass boxes masqueraded as study cells. In one, I spotted that bear of a scholar, Ingram something or other, teaching a small class.

“Hey, isn’t that—?” Persie gave me a nudge in the ribs.

“Who?” Of course, I knew who she meant. I wasn’t blind. He stood at the back of Ingram’s glass box, taking notes.

Persie smiled. “Mr. O’Hara.”

“Oh… yeah, maybe. I can’t tell from here.” I could smell the BS, and there was no way my pal hadn’t caught the reek. Fortunately, Charlotte saved me.

“This is where you will learn Monster Theory, if you hadn’t guessed from the name. MacLoughlin and his assistants will be teaching you.” She gestured up to the yawning rafters. “It also serves as a library, if you want to study privately. Although we do have five libraries, so you can take your pick depending on your needs.”

She didn’t even announce that we were moving on this time. She just turned and headed off, leaving us to trail after her like eager ducklings. There was something about her cool, matter-of-fact attitude that intrigued me. I’d yet to see her break a smile. Not that it was necessary, it just made me wonder if she’d been roped into this against her will, as a favor to Mama Basani. As with all legacies, I guessed she felt the Basani name weighing on her shoulders. I guessed she had other, more complicated dimensions to her, ones she didn’t want to show to the newbs.

I could understand the crushing heft of legacy, and not just from being friends with Persie. Being the only Atlantean at the Institute came with novelty value, sure, but it also singled me out. I didn’t look like everyone else. I had tattoos on my face, for one. And I had more power than everyone else, for another. I wasn’t tooting my own horn or anything, it was plain fact. A gift and a curse. Normally, I didn’t let that faze me, but I remembered the words my dad had whispered in my ear when we parted ways: “You will be our nation’s representative. Make Atlantis proud.”

Ah, the motherland… The double-edged sword that loomed over my life. But I wasn’t doing this to make Atlantis proud. Long before Persie had even suggested this place, I’d daydreamed about becoming a monster hunter for one woman and one woman alone: my mom. She’d been one of the finest hunters in Atlantis. Yes, it had taken her away from me in the end, but she’d loved her job with everything she had. I’d sat on my dad’s knee and listened to his stories about her death-defying captures and the weird and wonderful monsters of the deep, and I’d been so awestruck that I’d forgotten to breathe. I had known even then that I wanted to be like her, without ever having known her.

“Take a breath, baby shrimp,” my dad would whisper to me. Apparently, it had been her pet name for me because I’d slept curled up like one. And he’d continued it, in her memory. Though it had been a long time since he’d called me that.

I want to make you proud, Mom. I want to be as great as you were. Maybe, it’ll make me feel like you’re… still here. I had to blink away unexpected tears and pretend to stare at a few display cases filled with hunter paraphernalia. If Persie saw, she’d worry, and she didn’t need my problems on top of hers. There was so much I hated about Atlantis: the traditions, the arranged marriages, the paternal expectation. But it was where I was born. It was where I was loved by her. It was where I’d said goodbye to her, even though I’d been too young to remember. And that bound me to that backward little world, no matter how far away I roamed.

“Don’t get too close, she might hex you. They’re sentients, you know—sneaky buggers.” My head whipped around. The two closest cadets, with ponytails so tight they had permanently startled expressions, shot me daggers and descended into furtive giggles. I didn’t know which one had said it, and I didn’t want to cause a scene. But this wasn’t the first instance of this. There had been sly looks and whispers for the last five days. I’d ignored them, for the most part, hoping they’d wear out their petty bigotry, but it got harder each time.

“I wouldn’t waste the energy,” I hissed back.

They exchanged a worried look and scuttled to the front of the crowd.

Persie looped her arm through mine. “You okay?”

“All good here.” I forced a smile and kept my chin up. But a nagging doubt crept into the back of my head. Is this what Dad was talking about? He hadn’t always been a stuffy traditionalist. He’d gotten us out of Atlantis precisely because he didn’t agree with a lot of what they did. But that had changed over the years, after he’d started working as an Atlantean envoy for the integration program. There had been a slow shift in his mindset. He’d sat me down a thousand times and warned me that the wider magical world didn’t think kindly of us. It was his main reason for wanting to cart me off back to Atlantis. I’d called nonsense on it, but… what if he’d been telling the truth?

“Seriously, did someone say something? You look… sad.” I couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes. She knew me too well. Although there was one thing she hadn’t caught onto just yet. A secret, of sorts: that I needed her as much as she needed me. A fearless fa?ade did not a fearless woman make.

“I was thinking about someone, that’s all.”

She nodded in understanding. “She’s rooting for you, Genie.”

“Yeah, I think she is.” I dipped my head and battled more tears until they gave up. Jeez, this independence thing came with a lot more weepy moments than I’d expected. But there was an old Atlantean sentiment that I kept close: “Loved ones never leave us, for they are within us. You cannot lose what is intrinsic to your heart. It is but a brief parting, not a forever farewell.”

Charlotte stopped in front of more familiar doors. “This is the banquet hall. First-year students take their breakfast in the old chapel at the back, if you didn’t already know from your orientation packages.”

“What packages?” I shot a confused look at Persie.

She shrugged. “Maybe ours got lost in the post?”

I took a quick look at the banquet hall, though I’d already seen it once today.

“This way.” Charlotte walked on, pointing out the way to the infirmary, four of the smaller libraries, and the laundry room. Apparently, they weren’t interesting enough to take a peek at. But we could always investigate more later, schedule permitting. We were supposed to receive our schedules at the end of the tour, and I guessed they’d be jam-packed.

Trekking on through the labyrinth, she halted halfway down a vast hallway and swung open a set of medieval doors. I expected a classroom or another library. Instead… well, what a view. To the right, there was a beautiful courtyard with pear trees growing along the perimeter, and benches beneath the rustling leaves. To the left were manicured gardens with vivid flowerbeds in full bloom, despite the chill in the breeze. Beyond the sandstone walls, from Charlotte’s curt description, were more gardens, where hunters and students liked to stroll. And, down a central path, rolling green hills stretched as far as the eye could see, even beyond the confines of the Institute. From inside, it was easy to forget that the outside world existed. But here it was, in all its lush green glory.

“This place is so beautiful, isn’t it? Everywhere you look, there’s something new and exciting to see!” Persie gushed breathlessly. “I wonder if those pears are ripe enough to eat?”

I shook my head. “They’d give you the collywobbles, make no mistake.”

“What?”

“A tummy-ache.” I grinned, feeling better with some fresh air in my lungs. Ironic, considering I’d spent most of my earliest childhood in a manufactured bubble, but hey—I didn’t make the rules.

“Even without the pears, I’d love to sketch out here,” she said wistfully.

I leaned my head on top of hers. “Then sketch you shall.”

In the distance, I noticed the ghost of a gray, church-looking building—a smidge of non-magical civilization. Churches had always unnerved me. And this one had a flavor of the eerie about it, intensified by the bruised swell of rainclouds rising up on the horizon.

“You can walk out here whenever you like, but don’t go outside Institute limits without express permission,” Charlotte warned. “It’s nicer in the summer.”

I’ll bet it still rains. I smirked. In the five days we’d been there, it had rained on four of them. Ah, Ireland. No wonder everything was so green.

Moving on, she showed us the common areas: big lounge rooms with roaring fireplaces, comfy sofas, and cozy vibes—the perfect defense against grim weather. Though maybe we’d just been spoiled by the San Diego sunshine. At least here, I wouldn’t have to lather on about forty layers of sunscreen to avoid getting crisped. Ghostly Atlantean skin and that burning orb in the sky did not a happy pair make, though I did miss the heat of the SDC.

“And this is the Monster Repository.” Charlotte led us through black doors with gargoyle-head door handles. I skidded to a startled halt as major flashbacks bombarded my brain. My mom’s colleagues, who had been like aunts and uncles to me, had taken me to visit the Atlantis Bestiary a few times, with the permission of King Ovid. And this place looked… identical, just in miniature. A sea of various-sized blue glass orbs attached to silver poles were arranged in neat lines from wall to wall, resembling a forest of bubbles. Black mist swirled inside each one, and nobody won a prize for guessing why.

Before I’d fully recovered from the shock, a patter of footsteps made the group turn. A stressed-looking Nathan sprinted to Charlotte, then stooped to catch his breath. His eyes caught mine for a split second before I hurriedly looked elsewhere. No point in making doe eyes at anyone. I wasn’t here for that. And there wasn’t much point, anyway. My dad had made it clear that I could either accept an arranged Atlantean marriage for bloodline reasons or never marry at all. Not that I was thinking about marriage; Ganymede, no—that was the furthest thing from my mind.

“Sorry I’m late. Time got away from me,” Nathan apologized.

Charlotte took her phone out of her pocket. “Actually, this is perfect timing. I need to make a call. I trust you can take it from here?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. Already dialing, she walked into the hall and left him to it.

He stood there for a moment, like a deer in headlights. Finally, he straightened his jacket cuffs and smoothed a hand through his lion’s mane, all the while ignoring the flirty giggles from a gaggle of girls close to the front.

Did they teach you that at cadet school? I watched a black vortex of smoke in a nearby orb, though I felt a prickle of heat on the back of my neck—a telltale sign that he had his eyes on me. Well, I wouldn’t be looking back. Nope, nope, nope. Good-looking guys spelled trouble. And I couldn’t afford any distractions.

“Uh… Well, this is the Monster Repository. I am responsible for the upkeep and intake here.” He gestured to the bubble forest. “In case you were confused, this is where the monsters are brought after being captured in the field. I identify them, classify them, record their information into the logbook, and generally care for them until they’re shipped off to the Bestiary. Sometimes, I even give them names.” He laughed awkwardly, but nobody else did.

Feeling sorry for him, I mustered a chuckle. “Like what?”

“Oh… um… It depends. There was a goblin I was particularly fond of, and I called him… Goodness, this is embarrassing.” Nathan swept his hand through his hair again. A nervous tic. “I called him Ptolemy.”

“Was he particularly good at math? Or astrology, perhaps?” I teased, while Persie smothered a laugh.

Nathan squirmed, pushing a flustered hand into his back pocket. “Truthfully, I just like naming them after famous theorists.” He turned his back and started pointing aimlessly. “As you may have noticed, we don’t use the same boxes as the Bestiary. We used to, but they were upgraded to emulate the… uh… Atlantean design.”

Persie stiffened at my side, no doubt freaked out by the mention of glass boxes. I tugged her closer to me to let her know I was there.

“Pfft, as if we need their technology,” said a classmate with hedgehog hair and muscles that looked like they’d been inflated by a bike pump. Bike-Pump Biceps was what I’d call him for now. I shot him a dark look. He hadn’t even dared to actually direct his comment at me. Coward.

Nathan turned back around. “Actually, their technology is proven to provide the creatures with a more comfortable experience.”

“Who cares about their comfort? They’re mindless,” another classmate chimed in, a smug grin on her face. One of the ponytails who’d snarked at me before.

“If you think that, you shouldn’t be here.” It was the first time I’d seen a bit of fire in Nathan. His eyes narrowed, and the girl’s grin vanished. “They aren’t mindless. They are sentient beings with very real personalities, and every creature is unique. I’m not even sure that keeping them caged is the best way of harnessing their energy, but they are necessary to magical society, so it’s my job to make sure that they are, at the very least, comfortable while they are in my care. And I have no doubt that the Beast Master of the Bestiary behaves the same way, because he understands these creatures and their merits in a way that you clearly don’t. I hope that changes, or you’ll find life as a hunter a thankless task.”

“Why don’t you ask the SDC’s finest?” the musclebound jackass grumbled.

Nathan smiled at Persie and me. “That’s an excellent idea. You must know the Beast Master quite well, I’d imagine. What does he believe?”

Persie nodded. “Tobe knows every creature, and he cares for each of them with the biggest heart. Even the ones who might not deserve it.”

You say that, but he’d rip Leviathan a new one if that slimy son of a biatch ever actually tried to hurt you.

I didn’t say it aloud. There was no use in bringing him up when he was clearly already on Persie’s mind all the time. She always shuddered when she heard his name, and I hated the hold he had over her. She should’ve been enjoying her life, not worrying about what Leviathan would do next. I’d never forgive him for that, or for ruining my best friend’s eighteenth birthday. Who did that? The slippery snake clearly had zero manners.

“If you love him so much, why didn’t you stay there? You could’ve added to the Bestiary,” the other ponytail muttered under her breath, growing some serious sour grapes.

Fortunately, I liked the taste of sour. And I wasn’t about to let anyone talk to my friend like that. I knew she could defend herself, but she wouldn’t.

“Why, you worried it might give us an advantage because we’ve seen more real-life monsters than you’ve had hot dinners?” I retorted.

Ponytail #2 sneered. “I’m not afraid of you, Genie.”

“You’re the one who said it, not me.” I smiled, sweet as anything. “Now, I’d like to hear more from Nathan and less from you.”

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, thank you, Genie. I’m pleased to hear that the Beast Master is everything I thought he would be, and I’d like to speak with you about him in more detail, but… that can obviously wait.” He walked up to one of the bubbles and coaxed the creature inside to appear. It flitted around like a dragonfly, with wings that looked like browned leaves. It resembled a stick insect with its crooked arms and thin body, with the exception of an eerily human face that observed us with milky white eyes. “This is a sprite called Archimedes. He’s very shy, and he likes—”

“Long walks on the beach?” I joked. This time, I got a proper laugh, free of nerves.

“I imagine he would, though he’d probably prefer a long flight in the park,” Nathan replied, smiling. “Many people used to believe that sprites were the spirits of the dead, who could be benevolent or malevolent, depending on how they were treated. They are ancient and were feared, but not so much anymore. This one is an Earth sprite, with weak spellcasting abilities that it uses to grow flowers and fruits, and to help crops. But the point is, there are sprites who would batter against this glass, or shrink away, or not emerge at all. I’ve gotten to know this one, and it’s proof of my theory that they have awareness and are far more complex than people make them out to be.”

A long-haired dude folded his arms across his chest. “You’ll be saying they have souls, next.”

Nathan put his palm to the glass, and the sprite raised a crooked, twiggy hand to his. “Actually, there is a great deal of evidence to suggest that they do, but proving the presence of a soul in a Purge beast would be like proving the existence of a soul in a human being.”

Nice comeback, O’Hara! The long-haired guy huffed grumpily. Nathan had silenced him without so much as raising his voice. He’d slapped him with a wet fish of intellect, and I had to admit… it was kind of sexy. Not the wet fish part, but the smarts part. And he’d shown me a flash of a sense of humor, when I was fairly sure he’d had a humorectomy. Still, I wasn’t sure he would be much use in an actual hunting scenario. Not to sound shallow, but I’d always gravitated toward brawnier types. The kind of guy who could hold their own. Borderline alphas, that sort of jam. Nathan had some tasty looks, absolutely, but he was so… awkward. Cute, in its own right, but I didn’t usually go for that.

“Are we done in here?” Charlotte reappeared, as blunt as ever. Maybe even a little thorny, but who wouldn’t be if they’d been saddled with a tour group by their mom? I’d shown a similarly blasé attitude when my dad made me take new Atlanteans around the SDC, though I’d managed a few smiles and a joke here and there. Just like Nathan’s theory about monsters, humans had their own individual styles and responses to situations. Charlotte was just riding with hers.

“I believe so,” Nathan replied. He cast a look at me, and his face brightened in a disarming smile. It would’ve been rude not to smile back.

“Right, then, let’s get moving. Our last stop is the future new wing of the Institute.” Charlotte disappeared and the group exited, in a rush to catch up to her. This time, Nathan joined us. I pushed away the hopeful thought that maybe he’d joined because of me.

We got halfway up the corridor when something caught my attention: a faint light bobbing in the rafters overhead. I paused and stared at it, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. I blinked, but the light didn’t go anywhere. It looked like a hazy purple orb, with flaming blue wisps coming off it.

I nudged Persie. “Do you see that?”

“What?” Her voice sounded weird. Strained. Glancing down at her, I gasped. The color had vanished from her face, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Her lips were blue and trembling. Either we had a panic attack on our hands, or a Purge. Since it had been five days since her last spew of scary mist, my money was on the Purge.

“Okay, Mama, we need to get you sitting and breathing.” I tugged her gently toward a bench against the wall and sat her down. The others hadn’t noticed and gone on ahead, including Nathan, which was fine by me. Persie didn’t need an audience of gawping vultures. Kneeling in front of her, I took her hands in mine. “Breathe with me, Persie. Can you do that?” I drew in a slow inhale, counted to five, and exhaled again. She stared at me, terror in her eyes. I gripped her hands tighter and breathed again, with the same slow deliberation. “Come on, baby shrimp. In for five, hold for five, out for five.”

Baby shrimp? My heart jolted. I hadn’t meant to say it, it just spilled out. As I kept up the rhythm for Persie to copy, my mind turned to my mom again. Maybe she really was here, watching over me. Tragically, my mom would never get to meet Persie. I somehow knew they would’ve adored each other. But, right now, I had to take care of my best friend.

Persie nodded. With a rattling rasp, she took a breath.

“That’s it, you’ve got this. I’m here,” I urged. “Just keep breathing. I’ve got you.”

As she drew another breath, slow and steady and clear, I dared to steal a look back up at the rafters. But the glowing orb, or whatever it was, had gone. And I had to wonder… had it caused this?