By the time Serpent 6 is dismissed from our last class of the day, History of the Millennium, it’s clear I missed more during my blackout than Yetic let on. As we shuffle toward the Serpent barracks for dinner, the group buzzes around me like a bunch of drones anxious to rub elbows with the queen.
Cera winks before continuing a conversation with the new transfer who’d helped lead the charge earlier. Olin refuses to make eye contact. Zorrah is glued to my back, assuming her typical role as my personal body guard. Trying not to think about Neca, I raise an angry brow at Yetic.
He shrugs and shakes his head.
It’s possible something happened while he and I were together that neither of us know about. Through the corner of my eye, I check the nearest monitoring device. The spherical half-bubble mounted high on the wall reflects the images of those passing beneath it. Whatever has happened, no one is willing to talk about it in the corridor.
After a few angry shoves and a tense moment with Jaguar 3, the second best dorm group from Jaguar, we reach the Serpent barracks. Everyone is clearly on edge, but no one offers an explanation. As we cue for food, I wonder if my mind has taken too many stunnings. Maybe everyone’s simply glad I’m not dead. Or maybe some of them had hoped to take my place.
I’d been out a whole hour! I hate not knowing how the battle ended or what happened to Ami. I accept my tray of rations through the slot in the wall and continue shuffling forward.
Maybe everyone is afraid we’re in trouble for breaking the chamber. Had I come across as weak when Ami knocked me from the platform and put me under for an hour? Finally I land on the key issue troubling me—how the teocuali had Ami done it? Her skin had crawled with flames like the Queen of the Shadows.
I clutch my bruised ribs and roll my sore shoulder in its socket. Had I really almost died? I sort through my spotty memories of the platform. Ami had known of her advantage. It had shown in her eyes. But what she did should have been impossible. If not for Olin’s presence…
Someone jabs my sore ribs with an elbow.
Perturbed, I stare down Yetic.
He points with his chin to a protein shake thrust from the wall in front of me.
I snag it and wait for a second. I take the second one without making eye contact with any of my fellow Serpents. Not that it would matter. No one would question me. But I don’t want to draw attention to the fact I feel so exhausted.
I sit at one of the many tables sprouted from the floor of the commons. Zorrah has explained to me a half dozen times how infrared sterilization works, but I still can’t get over the sensation of eating on the floor.
Olin sits to my left, Yetic to my right.
I fork in a mouthful of the dried beans that are never cooked long enough before addressing my brother. “So, what’s the news?”
“The news?” Olin stops, fork midway to his mouth.
He’s upset, though I’ve no idea why. I keep eating, not wanting to draw undue attention to our conversation.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s the fact you almost killed yourself today for an axnohtic game.”
I bite down hard on my fork, nearly chipping a tooth.
“Worse yet, you asked me to help.” Olin slams down his fork, flinging squash across the table in the process. “And of course, I obeyed.”
Several tables around us go quiet.
Trying to ignore his outburst, I tip back one of my shakes and then wipe the froth from my mouth with the back of my hand. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull—every single one of these games, as you like to call them, are a matter of life and death. If we don't win, we die on graduation day. Three and a half years is the only difference.” I shake my head. “A loss is a loss. It doesn't matter to me whether I die now or die then.”
“It matters to me!”
“Olintl,” I reach for his hand. It has turned white from pressing down on the table’s surface. He doesn’t retract it. “Don’t worry. I plan on living, just like you do.” I look him in the eye. It’s obvious to everyone we aren’t eating anymore, including the nearest monitoring device.
“It’s not that,” Olin lowers his voice and faces forward. He folds a tortilla and half-heartedly pushes beans around his plate.
“Then what?” I ask.
“I have friends, Calli. You know I've never had friends.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “You mean Zorrah?”
“Zorrah, Cera, Neca.” Olin snarls slightly as he says Neca’s name, revealing he’s still angry at me for choosing Yetic.
Suddenly his meaning hits me. “You’re enjoying life in the academy more than worker city.” I can’t believe it. “Despite the monitoring, the uncertainty, the pressure, the threat of bodily harm, and your constant objections, you like it. How?”
“You want to know how?”
“Yes.”
“I don't care.”
I swallow another bite of beans and narrow my eyes. “Be careful, little—”
“I don't care what the academy thinks. I don't care what the regime thinks.”
“Olin, stop. Keep your voice down.”
“See, that's the difference between me and you.” Olin stands up and looks directly at the nearest monitoring device. He points at the bubble while staring at me. “Whatever happens, I don't belong to them.”
Zorrah intercedes, “Olin.” Her voice is coaxing, sympathetic. “You’ve made your point.”
Olin sits with a dramatic flare and lowers his voice. “I’m discovering new abilities each week. I'm growing stronger, more confident.” He takes a break to chew and swallow his soggy tortilla.
I glance toward the other tables long enough to indicate the show is over. Wandering eyes find their way back to the food in front of them. Whatever happened with Ami, it hasn’t cost me my status as commander of Serpent 6 or even captain of the Serpent barracks.
Olin continues less conspicuously. “I know you have always cared for me, always been there for me. After mom and dad, it was just us. Now there are others. The green ones, Calli. We're really a family, bigger and better than ever. You're just too teocuali busy worrying about the all-watching eye to see what's right in front of you.”
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