Page 22

U XLAY CAMPUS ONLY HAD ONE SEASON. I T BORROWED SUN ON RARE days and hail on others, but the wind never relented, whistling through bricked corridors, ruffling braids, and stinging exposed necks. The bottoms of Kidan’s ears were like small ice chips, burning into her jaw whenever they touched. She knew cold, but this was something else. A cold preserved for the dead of the morgue.

Kidan tucked her chin into her blue sweater and the dark tie under her shirt’s collar. She rushed to the campus store, which sold scarves. With the crest of Uxlay’s lions and twin blades emblazoned, they were quite popular, with stock running out every day. She got the last one and rushed out, running straight into Ramyn.

Ramyn had a light sweater on, hair blowing wildly, cheeks pinked because of the cold. Kidan got goose bumps just looking at her. She sighed, took off her scarf, and draped it around Ramyn’s throat, dressing it with care. Her own neck protested immediately, but she gritted her teeth against the icy air.

“Oh.” Ramyn widened her large eyes. “Thanks. I always forget.”

“I know.”

Ramyn’s fingers lingered on the scarf, her eyes cresting with light. “I heard… them talk about your sister in the Southern Sost Buildings.”

Kidan’s spine locked. “What? What did they say? Is she here? Where—”

“They didn’t say much,” she said in a rush, to calm her down. “I only heard them mention her name.”

Kidan’s heart was pounding like a drum, blood rushing through her ears. “I need to know more.”

“I know,” Ramyn said softly. “But you’re not allowed in there.”

“I don’t care––”

“They will suspend you. I can get in. I’ll try to find out more.”

The roaring in her ears calmed. Kidan stared. “You will?”

Ramyn bit her lip, averting her gaze. “I should have helped you when you first asked, but I was scared.…”

Kidan couldn’t believe it. Someone finally believed her. Wanted to help her. Lost for words, she hugged Ramyn tightly, surprising them both. Ramyn gave a small laugh, squeezing her back.

Kidan inhaled her scent of sweet peaches. “Thank you. And I’m sorry… about Dranacti.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you later, okay? We can talk more then.” Ramyn’s piercing eyes remained bright as she waved goodbye.

Soon, June.

Kidan clung to that thought and hurried across the courtyard. On the twelfth level of the School of Philosophy, a rectangular space framed by eight rooms waited. Kidan knocked on the door of Room 3.

Yusef waved her in. Slen was illuminated by the bright window stretching almost wall-to-wall.

“The Mot Zebeyas are for protection of life. It’s what we uphold higher than any belief,” GK was saying.

“One life is nothing,” Slen dismissed.

GK stared at her in awe. “It’s everything.”

Kidan settled next to Yusef, who appeared bored to death.

“It’s human nature to protect those close to us. People die daily, and you don’t see strangers mourning them,” Slen continued.

“This is the issue with our world. All life is equal, and each death should hurt the same. The loss of one finger should cut as deeply as a hand,” GK said, more animated than ever.

Yusef yawned. “I don’t know. I think everyone wouldn’t mind losing the ring finger. I mean, what does it really do?”

They all stared at him.

Yusef blinked. “Well, we can’t lose the middle finger. It would be a tragedy.”

“Let’s just read,” Slen said.

Yusef brightened, leaning in to Kidan. “You’re welcome. They’ve been at it for an hour.”

Kidan almost smiled.

Yusef ran a hand through his closely cropped hair, glancing at the far window, which doubled as a mirror.

“The wind is wild today.”

After fifty minutes of silent work, Kidan stood to stretch her neck, enjoying the view. The Arat Towers met in a quadrant style; black stone statues perched on each spire bowed their heads, pitying the poor students crossing Resar’s lush courtyard to enter their halls. If Kidan tilted her head just right, the spire statues almost mirrored an arrangement of peaceful murder or fervent prayer. What an odd choice to place as decorations. But perhaps this was how the residents of Uxlay chose to exist, between the divine and the evil, using one inexorably to conceal the other.

She half turned when a shadow caught her eye from the opposite tower. She squinted, trying to make out the shape. Dread seeped into her core. It was a person, head whipping wildly, dangling in the air by a hand around their throat.

Kidan’s instincts screamed. June. She lurched forward, finding a hard surface blocking her path. Kidan pounded against the glass, eyes jumping back to the figure suspended in the air. She looked down desperately, but no one had noticed. An Uxlay red scarf unfurled from the victim’s neck, billowing red in the wind. Kidan’s pounding eased. This wasn’t her sister. June had no reason to wear that scarf.

Kidan stiffened at the presence of someone at her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Yusef said, alarmed.

He followed Kidan’s gaze and shouted, giving voice to the horror unfolding inside her. The others rushed to them, watching the struggle in panic.

Someone left Kidan’s side in a rush, and the door banged closed a second later. GK. He must have been running in desperation.

Yusef was on the phone, shaking and breathing hard as he spoke with the campus authorities. Slen remained as still as Kidan.

Moments later, GK appeared in the courtyard. He pushed through a group of students, who collapsed like bowling pins as he tore past.

The person writhed in the terrifying height. The attacker had to be unbelievably strong. Vampire. Kidan’s body turned to liquid. Here she was again behind a glass, powerless.

GK entered the Languages and Linguistics Tower, and she imagined him taking the stairs two at a time.

Please make it.

“He won’t make it,” one of them finally said.

The hand let go. The figure fell, weightless, a rolling piece of body and limbs trailed by red before—Kidan shut her eyes. The crunch resounded in her spine and along her skull. When she opened her eyes, it was done.

Yusef slumped forward. “Who… is it?”

Although there were hundreds of students with similar clothes, figures, and heights roaming the grounds, Kidan knew that scarf belonged to the girl who smelled like sweet peaches. Just like she knew the day had tasted of death. Kidan’s fingers twitched against her bare neck.

“Ramyn.”