Soul energy does not exist cleanly in material bodies, something always being lost or gained. This discrepancy is called current.
-A Guide to Current and the Planes
(2 hours before the murders)
Arlen’s prediction of Esme’s punishment proved thoroughly wrong. Instead, the crew flew back to the kennels before proceeding to the main hall. Arlen looked back to Bennet as they walked, receiving only a shrug. Looks like we’re going off map for this one, Arlen reasoned dismally. Esme led her crew to an empty room in a side hallway and Tris blocked the door behind her after everyone had entered. Very off the map.
Very much on the map, however, was Esme’s barking. “You broke formation to do what I explicitly told you not to, and then you have the goddamn stones to have your quill threaten mine.”
Arlen leaned forward, close enough to bite Esme. “I didn’t tell Halfsies to say shit, but now that you’re here, if you ever threaten to push me into the ocean again, I will make sure that no shortage of quill shit finds it way under your pillow and your jacket.”
Bennet moved between them. “You were going to push her into the ocean?”
Tris didn’t move to meet Bennet like Arlen thought she would, instead grinning lazily and cracking her knuckles. “Ever the hound, eh, Tris?”
Tris shrugged. “Ever the mouse, eh, Arlen?” She scoffed. “Mice can listen at least; you’re more like a damned spider.”
Esme turned to Bennet. “Yes, I did,” she said curtly. “Give her a shovel and she’ll turn it into a joke eventually, but falling from her quill, during the trials no less, much harder to recover from.”
“You do realize she reflects on you?”
“And does Arlen not realize that she reflects on not only all of us, but all of the academy?” Julia asked. “If we save all of them, we’ll be fucked, royally and totally fucked against the dracosine!”
Daephina waved her hand dismissively. “She did plenty fine in testing that cheater today.”
“She got—” Esme began.
“Cut the shit Bondblood,” Daephina said. “If Halfsies wanted her in his jaws, he’d be shitting her out right now. She was using you to keep the vines down, right?” Arlen nodded. “Smart, fast too. I’d say Ravenshroud is made richer for Arlen’s failure.”
Esme grit her teeth tight. “And you?” she asked Marcella. “Do you feel comfortable flying with someone who will break formation when Hoarden comes calling?”
“Hoarden wouldn’t hesitate like the vines did,” Marcella shot back.
“And you?” Esme locked gazes with Bennet. “Would the son of Barrister Maelstraith break formation?”
Bennet nodded. “If it was Abella in those weeds, I’d fight all six of you and my dad to get to her”—he glanced at Tris—“and I’d win.”
Tris shook her head. “In your dreams, Benny.” She opened the door, allowing light into the room. “I think we’re done here, unless anybody else has something to bark at.”
Esme shook her head before she bore her gaze into Arlen. The hair-prickling fury was gone as fast as it came, like a thousand sharp dendrites forming and shattering at once in each of Arlen’s cells. “I’m glad that your little sister made it through the trials, but we have rules for a reason,” she said before making for the door.
Bennet put his hand on Arlen’s shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, nudging her to the door. “You know where to find me, Melbourne, in case you need a late-night ass-whooping.”
“Know where to avoid going for mediocre sparring too,” she said with a smile, earning a high five from Daephina.
Esme found seats for her crew before sitting down and sinking her head into her arms. “I’m not hungry, go get food,” she said, knowing full well that one of her crew members would get her something to gnaw at.
So, Arlen loaded up a plate, her appetite mostly in check after the trials. Turning back to the tables, Arlen hesitated. Esme sat unmoving with her head in her arms, and Arlen wanted to confront her captain, using the trappings of the dining hall as a cover. But if she doesn’t care about making a scene…Arlen shuddered. If she miscalculated the trappings of society, Esme’s anger wouldn’t be tempered at all. That was the peace offering, back there in the side room, Arlen thought dismally. It’s done.
Turning around, Arlen found Drayla at the center of the professor table. Her smile shone through her beard like a thin sliver of sunlight, letting Arlen know that she was happy to see her and—more importantly—that she had nothing to say on the day’s events.
But she wasn’t the only professor at the table, and Professor Undkin shambled to Arlen, his ring of black hair making him look like a raven. “Ahhhh, Arlen Whitestreak, talk of the hour” he said breathily. Arlen wanted to run, stopped only by the sinking feeling that the lanky Undkin was faster. He put a bony hand on her shoulder and Arlen hoped her smile didn’t dip too much. “It was a good test that you gave that girl today.”
“She was fast and I thought she’d be a good fit. Besides, she had wide hips, so she should take well to the saddle.”
“Perceptive!” Undkin exclaimed, still not removing his too-large hand. “Professor Fenrikan is of the opinion you didn’t push that girl hard enough.”
Arlen looked past the bag of bones to wave at the burly professor. Fenrikan merely scoffed before spooning more oatmeal into his mouth. Weapons training is going to be fuuunnn, Arlen thought dismally. “Thank you for your compliments, Professor, but I fear my absence has left my crew and friends much the poorer.”
Undkin’s eyes widened again. “Of course! Of course! I’d hate to deprive lady Bondblood of you.”
Arlen took her leave. She had nothing against the professor—he had never slighted her—but his wraithlike figure and quiet voice never inspired confidence. What if the dracosine attacked? Would he snap like a teak tree? Come to think of it, have I ever seen him fly? Brutish and mean as Fenrikan may have been, Arlen had no doubt that he could tear a dracosine’s ursine head from their scaly necks.
Arlen scanned over the riders for Theo’s stringy brown hair, finding her with a group of friends. Must be kin-claimed, Arlen reasoned from their baggy clothes and how they kept touching their jackets as if pinching themselves from a dream. I’ll have to find some of my old jackets to give them. “May I sit here?”
Theo turned to the voice before leaping out of her seat and throwing her arms around Arlen. “Arlen! Did you see me? Did they have you on duty?”
“Yes, they did,” Arlen said as they separated. “Had me worried for a moment there at the beginning but I knew you’d make it through.”
Halfsies scoffed into her mind. “Please, I’m sure even the unbonded could hear how fast your heart was beating.”
“Yea, that was scary, but I just did what you said and kept my wits about me. When I saw my knife hand was still free, I knew I wasn’t in the shit yet.”
“See?” Halfsies taunted.
Little shit, Arlen thought. “That’s good. A quick mind will take you far.” She turned to Theo’s friends. That goes for you two as well. Arlen Whitestreak.”
The first girl’s blonde curls bounced eagerly as she took the handshake. “Rose Septi.”
“Mirabella Zamira,” the second girl said, her alabaster face flanked by the rivers of fire that were her copper waves. “What year are you?”
“I’m a fourth year,” Arlen said with a smile, truly feeling it for the first time all day. She may have been average amongst her group, but to these first years, she was a demigod descending from above. Follow me first years! Arlen thought, picturing herself marching and carrying a baton. That’s Esme Bitchblood, but most people just call her Your Royal Coldness! Stare too long and she’ll turn you into ice! Arlen was glad she was already smiling, at least so she could stop her giggles with her teeth. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”
Mirabelle looked Arlen over. You? Surely there’s someone better, the narrowed eyes said. Finally, after a long moment, Mirabelle relaxed. “Alright,” she said before pointing to the faculty table. “Who should we worry about?”
Arlen pointed to a lanky woman with a brown ponytail. “Professor Hilda Albia is our movement professor, and you’ll learn solo-flight maneuvers, stealthy hunting, and how to pace yourself on and off the ground. She’s my favorite. Professor Undkin”—the girls shuddered—“while creepy is totally harmless and can answer basically any question on history.”
“Because he was there when it happened,” Rose muttered, earning a smile from Arlen before she pointed to Professor Fenrikan.
“He’ll always be gruff, so don’t let it get to you. If through all the sweat and bruises you can take something from each lesson, then you’re doing good.” Arlen pointed beside Drayla to a tall man with a beard of perpetual aftershave and a head of short, black curls. “That’s Professor Al-rul Cronorian. He knows that math, science, and the ordered magics are hard and just wants you to try. You’ll be fine.”
Rose licked her lips. “Pity he can’t teach me to ride a saddle.”
It seems I’ll need to have a little chat with Cronorian about some of the first years, Arlen thought, shaking her head. Cronorian was good looking in the same way that everyone who took care of themselves was. He had muscle, but so did most of the boys in the school, more of it, a number of them! She wished girls would stop fawning over him so he could cover more in class. “Do not try to rut any of the professors, at least not until you’re graduated, and even then, find someone else.” She pointed to a man with a wispy white beard, head bowed forward in sleep. “You’ll be learning pack tactics with Professor Corvo Blachen, usually awake.”
Theo pointed to a young woman with brittle black hair to her shoulders. “And who is the woman trying so hard to not be noticed?” Theo’s finger must have been too much for the young woman, who ducked further into the grey cloak over her jacket.
Arlen sighed. “That, is Professor Lilian Damasc, and she’s usually not this shy. She’ll be teaching you beasts, esoteric histories, and the briarsludge arts, which I find much more interesting than the ores and dusts you’ll be hearing about in Cronorian’s class.”
“Any tips for how to appease her?” Theo asked. “Give her chocolate or roses or skulls?”
“Pay attention in her class and bring some books that aren’t assigned reading. Not only will she love you for it, but the reading itself is pretty good too.” Arlen bit into her apple. “If you have to worry about any classes, it’s Albia’s and Fenrikan’s that will be the harsh ones.”
“So, if those two”—Theo pointed at Albia and Fenrikan—“are the heavy hitters, who can we go to for help on their classes?”
Arlen pointed back to her crew. “The big girl is Tris and the golden boy”—a gleam flashed in Rose’s eyes—“is Bennet.” Bennet looked good when wielding a sword, Arlen would admit, his hands and feet more so than all the bulging muscles and bazillion and one abdominals that he could play like an orchestra composed entirely of xylophones. Arlen shook her head, sighing and resigning the commentary on Ravenshroud’s harpies to another day. “They’re both always looking for someone to spar with. As for Albia, she does extra riding sessions nightly, or at least, she used to. I don’t know how much of that will be happening with Hoarden coming south like they are.”
The girls paled and exchanged worried looks. “About that,” Rose whispered, “have you heard anything else?”
Arlen shook her head. “No, but I’ll try to let you all know what I can.”
Theodora pointed to Drayla, who had stood from her seat and moved to the front of the raised platform. “I think she’s going to tell us something.”
Goldmask flared his wings and Drayla cleared her throat. “On behalf of all of Ravenshroud, I would like to welcome this year’s pledges,” she said before clapping her hands, joined by the rest of the hall. “This year there were 84, a nice number divisible by seven, and more than the usual high seventies of other years, On behalf of all of the faculty, we look forward to seeing how high you will go in these coming years.”
“Is she going to talk about the dracosine?” one unbounded whispered, thinking he wouldn’t be heard.
“I heard even the third years are on patrol.”
“My dad said he’s seen them as far south as Canor.”
Canor? That’s the middle of Paknest! Arlen swallowed the words. I can ask Bennet if his family has heard anything like that.
“I have heard you, all of you,” Drayla continued, lips curled in some combination of irritation and amusement. “I will not lie, what you have heard about Hoarden is true. Animals and beasts in our northern forests have been turning up dead and drained of blood like drakes are known to do. As such, the first classes of the year will have Professors Albia, Blachen, and myself guiding the upper three years in a flying lesson for the day, while Professors Fenrikan and Cronorian will acquaint the younger years with short sword and crossbow.” Fenrikan grinned. Everybody else winced
Three years at once? Arlen thought as the hall filled with gasps, murmurs, and shuffling steps. This is going to be a nightmare. “Well, girls,” Arlen said with a plastered-on smile, “I guess today you’ll get to see if Cronorian can temper Fenrikan. My wolfsmarks say no!”
The three pledges bounced a grimace between them. “Why worry today, when tomorrow will come anyway, right sis?” Theo asked, smiling nervously.
Arlen clapped her on the shoulder. “That’s the idea!” she exclaimed as she stood up. “Don’t forget, your spirits are only as high as you take them!”
“How are Theo and her friends?” Esme asked as Arlen sat down, a half-eaten peach resting between her hands and the faintest hints of the beginning of a start of a smile on her face.
“Their names are Mirabella and Rose,” Arlen said. “And I think it’ll be interesting to see how Cronorian and Fenrikan play together.”
Bennet shrugged. “I’d wager Cronorian’s one of the better professors with a blade.”
“But is he up to Fenrikan’s standards?” Marcella asked.
Daephina scoffed. “It’s Fenrikan, and even he isn’t up to his own standards.”
Tris shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s smiled at me, twice,” she said. “Said maybe he could learn a thing or two about two-handers.”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Ok, now I know you’re lying. He’d never let you think you’re actually good at something.”
“Perhaps it will be a good combination,” Esme suggested. “Al-rul can pick them up after Fenrikan is done shattering them.”
“Let’s hope” Arlen said. “I have a feeling that we’ll be in deeper shit than they are. Fenrikan is mean, but he’s not terribly creative, unlike Hilda and Drayla. I have a feeling they have something up their coats that we haven’t even thought of.”