darkness. The message room was under the eaves, a small, windowless space. At the far end of the room, a subtle ivory glow gave off the impression of a screen.
No use putting off the inevitable. Dane punched the Input button.
His father’s image appeared, his rigid frame towering larger than life upon the wall. Pale skin matched the lips pressed tightly together. Sharp lines traced the smooth forehead, straight nose, and strong chin. The sound of breathing hissed over the speakers. Then the figure drew forward, just close enough for the row of gleaming medals on his uniform to sharpen into focus. “Well?” The word rang with tension. “Shall I tell them, or shall you?”
Dane slouched in silence against the left wall, knowing the lack of respect would grate hard after two months of yes, sirs and yes, Generals. He let his gaze peruse the empty corners of the ceiling.
“I suggest you answer,” came the command. The faintest movement drew Dane’s eyes back to the screen. A knuckle popped as his father’s index finger pressed against his thumb.
Just waiting for you to tell me who it is I’m supposed to tell what.
The knuckle spiked. “You will inform Dr. Livinski immediately.”
And what am I supposed to tell her? wondered Dane, keeping his face blank.
The chest with the medals expanded. “A man admits when he is guilty of a crime.”
Oh, that was great. Dane forced laughter into his voice as he finally spoke aloud. “What am I being charged with now? Murder or manslaughter?”
“You and I both know you could never have fairly earned your way into that school.” The words were like frozen nitrogen.
Dane turned away, back toward the stairs.
“You will admit you cheated on that entrance test, or I will do it for you.”
Leave it to the General to question my intelligence by accusing me of cheating on the securest exam ever invented. “You would.”
“I mean it, Daniel!” The words hammered at the back of Dane’s neck. “And you can pack your bags. I want you out of that school and back on Chivalry before my ship lands in forty-eight hours.”
Blindly Dane slammed the Off button. He had not expected to feel like this, as if somehow he had lost. How was that possible? He had known he would be pulled from the school as soon as his father returned from Wyan-Ot. The General still nursed a grudge against the academy, a grudge that dated back for unknown reasons even before Dane’s brother Paul’s rejection. And if that had not been enough, there was always the excuse of Dane’s disobedience. But Dane had not expected this—to be forced to leave under some false accusation.
A slow whirr ebbed behind him, and the light in the room began to fade.
There was no doubt who the principal would believe. Even if Dr. Livinski were not his father’s colleague on the Council, she would never listen to the word of a juvenile delinquent over that of a general.
Pitch darkness descended on Dane’s shoulders. His palm pressed flat against the wall; his body refused to shift. Return to Chivalry. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. Military school, most likely. Back under his father’s control. There was no way out, not without an academy degree.
When he did finally move, his ankles screamed, and sharp spikes shot up from his wrist; but the pain did not matter, because he had made up his mind. He might never have had the power to stay at Academy 7. But he sure as hell had the power to decide how he left.
Chapter Seven
THE CRIME
THE GARDEN CALLED TO AERIN, THREADING ITS seductive message through the cracks in her bedroom window. I can hide you, the night seemed to say, and Aerin slipped from her bed to lift the glass. A warm breeze rushed inward, ruffling the sleeves of her rumpled uniform, and a wonderful shudder of pointed leaves swished on all sides. Thin clouds drifted across Academia’s two moons. Without conscious thought, she leaned out to breathe the rich scent of maple. Her arms wrapped
No use putting off the inevitable. Dane punched the Input button.
His father’s image appeared, his rigid frame towering larger than life upon the wall. Pale skin matched the lips pressed tightly together. Sharp lines traced the smooth forehead, straight nose, and strong chin. The sound of breathing hissed over the speakers. Then the figure drew forward, just close enough for the row of gleaming medals on his uniform to sharpen into focus. “Well?” The word rang with tension. “Shall I tell them, or shall you?”
Dane slouched in silence against the left wall, knowing the lack of respect would grate hard after two months of yes, sirs and yes, Generals. He let his gaze peruse the empty corners of the ceiling.
“I suggest you answer,” came the command. The faintest movement drew Dane’s eyes back to the screen. A knuckle popped as his father’s index finger pressed against his thumb.
Just waiting for you to tell me who it is I’m supposed to tell what.
The knuckle spiked. “You will inform Dr. Livinski immediately.”
And what am I supposed to tell her? wondered Dane, keeping his face blank.
The chest with the medals expanded. “A man admits when he is guilty of a crime.”
Oh, that was great. Dane forced laughter into his voice as he finally spoke aloud. “What am I being charged with now? Murder or manslaughter?”
“You and I both know you could never have fairly earned your way into that school.” The words were like frozen nitrogen.
Dane turned away, back toward the stairs.
“You will admit you cheated on that entrance test, or I will do it for you.”
Leave it to the General to question my intelligence by accusing me of cheating on the securest exam ever invented. “You would.”
“I mean it, Daniel!” The words hammered at the back of Dane’s neck. “And you can pack your bags. I want you out of that school and back on Chivalry before my ship lands in forty-eight hours.”
Blindly Dane slammed the Off button. He had not expected to feel like this, as if somehow he had lost. How was that possible? He had known he would be pulled from the school as soon as his father returned from Wyan-Ot. The General still nursed a grudge against the academy, a grudge that dated back for unknown reasons even before Dane’s brother Paul’s rejection. And if that had not been enough, there was always the excuse of Dane’s disobedience. But Dane had not expected this—to be forced to leave under some false accusation.
A slow whirr ebbed behind him, and the light in the room began to fade.
There was no doubt who the principal would believe. Even if Dr. Livinski were not his father’s colleague on the Council, she would never listen to the word of a juvenile delinquent over that of a general.
Pitch darkness descended on Dane’s shoulders. His palm pressed flat against the wall; his body refused to shift. Return to Chivalry. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. Military school, most likely. Back under his father’s control. There was no way out, not without an academy degree.
When he did finally move, his ankles screamed, and sharp spikes shot up from his wrist; but the pain did not matter, because he had made up his mind. He might never have had the power to stay at Academy 7. But he sure as hell had the power to decide how he left.
Chapter Seven
THE CRIME
THE GARDEN CALLED TO AERIN, THREADING ITS seductive message through the cracks in her bedroom window. I can hide you, the night seemed to say, and Aerin slipped from her bed to lift the glass. A warm breeze rushed inward, ruffling the sleeves of her rumpled uniform, and a wonderful shudder of pointed leaves swished on all sides. Thin clouds drifted across Academia’s two moons. Without conscious thought, she leaned out to breathe the rich scent of maple. Her arms wrapped
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