Secrets

  “So…how long this thing been going on?”

  Stretched out on the common room couch, Kor popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth and wagged her finger between the two on the couch across from her: Ty with her notebook, and Theo with a tome. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

  “I have to take down everyone’s preliminary findings,” responded Ty flatly, not sure what was being asked.

  Theo raised his head from his book and regarded Ty with amused disbelief before shooting the chemist a scrutinizing look. “Longer than you think. How about you? I saw those prescriptions you took today.”

  Kor popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth, not dismayed in the slightest. “Long time ago, too. Something clicked. Finally felt like myself when I admitted it, though I didn’t do much about it until recently.”

  “Fair enough.” Theo returned to his passage.

  Seeing this, Kor sat up, protesting with a pout on her face. “Hey, hey, I gave ya an explanation. I feel like I deserve one, too.”

  Theo continued to read, paying no heed to her and doing his best not to chuckle.

  “Korinna, I’m asking you for your report as your tactician. You’re my last one,” stated Ty flatly again.

  “Really, Theo? Really? I mean, we’re looking at the same person, right?”

  “Really,” Theo half replied, half laughed with an earnest smile on his face.

  “Alright, alright,” sighed Kor exasperatedly, pocketing her confectionery. “I get it, I get it—you two make me wanna throw up.”

  Lifting her pen off the page, Ty turned to the snickering student beside her. “Wait.”

  Sensing that she was finally starting to seize a glimmer of truth, Theo smiled at the oblivious Ty. “Ah, no, no, my dear, Kor’s just very forgetful sometimes, that’s all. Do your report, don’t worry.”

  Ty blinked, taking more than just a moment to process his words. “What did you just ca—”

  “Anyway!” Kor clapped her hands. “So, Callie and I managed to talk to a few families. They’re all a quiet bunch. Many of the older adults don’t speak the common tongue well, and usually the younger ones are better. Which is why we tried to get them to do some interpretation, though it was kinda difficult since even their common tongue is pretty bad.” Kor rubbed her neck distractedly, eyes wandering around the room. “A lot of them are anxious. Not that I blame them. Some were honestly weird…I spoke with some adults who were convinced something bad was coming. Some of them were outright scared of something they couldn’t even put into words…though most are compliant and just do what they’ve been told. Limbo…I think they called it. Their feelings.”

  Limbo, underlined Ty on both Kor’s page and Callie’s. “Did you ask them why?”

  “Well, when I did, they chalked it up to…to some sort of punishment, what’s happening to them. Guess it makes sense, being forced into hiding by MATS, not being able to really go out when they used to have the entire land to themselves…” Kor’s eyes glazed over as she trailed off, catching herself a few seconds later. “Some kid told us it was divine retribution. I remember because I didn’t think they knew big words like that, but no, the kid had learned it from class and thought that they had done something bad to upset the Earth Mother, so they were being consigned to living this way. As if this entire mess is the fault of a group of ten-year-olds.”

  As Ty recorded the information dutifully, the chemist continued to ramble. “To be honest, I didn’t really go into the place thinking I’d pity ‘em. Thought they deserved it for not evolving into sensible people who could defend themselves when it came to a fight, stand their ground or whatever. Instead, they take the high road because the Earth Mother says you’ll be punished if you take the low one? And…and if MATS did this…and we’re…then…”

  Vulnerability. She could see the naked vulnerability in her averted eyes, something she had never seen on her before.

  “They were nothing but kind and accommodating. They just wanted answers I didn’t have. And I couldn’t let Callie lie to them to make them feel better. How in the world do you tell someone that you think that it’s going to get way worse before it gets even slightly better? If it does? I never gave a shit about them before because I thought they deserved it, but this is starting to feel really messed up.”

  Hanging her head between her legs now, Kor sighed loudly. “Fuck. What a fucking mess.”

  Both of her classmates sitting across from her could only lower their eyes guiltily, the bleakness behind the curses piercing through them.

  Yes, they had all benefited from the Ancients. The entire system was built around them; the world they knew was built around them.

  “Well, that’s the best I got.” Kor got up from her seat and grabbed her bag off the couch. “If you ask me, shit’s unsalvageable. We fucked up. And from all the war talk, it ain’t gonna change anytime soon. We need ‘em more than ever, even if it’s under the guise of trying to protect them.”

  With that, she sauntered off to the dorms, the clacking of her heels loudly bouncing off the stone walls until they all heard a door slam shut.

  “Do you think there’s a solution?” Theo asked apprehensively after a few more seconds of shameful silence.

  “I…” Ty scanned her notes again, though the answer wasn’t there. “We…destroy it all.” It was only a whisper. “That’s…what Darius said they want, right? And before then, maybe we’ll figure out something…so that the villagers aren’t overburdened, but we don’t upset them.”

  There must have been some lingering resentment in her voice from her meeting with the community’s Elder, because Theo finally put away his book.

  “Ready to tell me what happened today?”

  Having already thought about what she was going to eventually say to him, she answered quickly and in one simple sentence, “I bowed and knelt after entering the Elder’s hut and didn’t get relieved until it was time to meet back up.”

  Silence.

  “You didn’t speak with her or get up?”

  Ty tilted her head back until she was looking up at the dark ceiling. She had stayed that way for a reason, and she hadn’t protested for a reason. The choice had been hers. “No, it would have been rude. I didn’t want to provoke her when she was already displeased.”

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  …with how I turned out, she didn’t add.

  Theo did not handle the situation as calmly as she had hoped, however. “That’s ridiculous. If she has a problem with you, she should just tell you instead of wasting your time,” he complained, face full of concern. “Let me talk to Darius, I’ll go with him next week. You like Faris, you could sit in at the school with him—though the word ‘school’ might be too grandiose a word,” he said in a cooler tone now, opening back up his book.

  “Mm.” She had also seen the building. It was the size of a regular community hut, barely ten by ten paces and certainly dwarfed by the Academy. “Yes, I do like Faris,” she responded strategically as she returned to her notes.

  “I told you how unsettling it was, right?”

  “You did.”

  “…What did Faris say?”

  “Nothing particularly surprising.” She eyed him suspiciously. “What happened?”

  The physician let out an uneasy laugh. “He hit someone.”

  It took a while for Ty to process what he had said, but when she did, her eyes widened. “No, you’re not serious.” Her stare turned into a glare. “No, Faris wouldn’t do that.” And then when Theo still said nothing, a single eyebrow raised, a sympathetic smile on his face that said, ‘Are you sure?’, she knew.

  “Okay, maybe. Maybe,” she admitted weakly, sinking into her seat. “Maybe I should look after him, you’re right…”

  “You know how I mentioned that only kids and adolescents are put through it?”

  “Yes. MATS-mandated, to get them accustomed to the common language and culture. Sometimes they have adults take part, though usually only kids.”

  “And I told you that the teacher there was someone who was actually from MATS. Like the only outsider we had seen in the community.”

  “I remember.”

  “And they were…eerie, to say the least.”

  “Yes.” An unsettling feeling proliferated in her chest as she flipped to their two-page spread. “Faris mentioned strict, impatient, terse, uncompromising...insane.”

  Unable to help himself, Theo chortled upon hearing the last item.

  “Insane,” she repeated in a whisper, making a few scribbles on the edge of the page to keep her mind busy. “I should have realized something was wrong when he said that.” Faris had even turned in early after dinner, and he hadn’t spoken up during the walk back. How could she not have noticed?

  Theo shrugged. “I’m not sure if insane is quite the right word for it, but you could tell the guy was pretty adamant about trying to get the kids on their side.”

  “I read your briefing papers,” Ty recalled clearly, still making scribbles. “That’s basically the point of the schools, isn’t it? Support the MATS initiative, separate them from the Earth Mother?”

  He did not deny it. “That’s true, but I mean, you can be a non-believer and still be respectful, right? That’s what most of us do.”

  “Right.” That was part of the reason she had left the school for Theo and Faris—aside from having ties to MATS outside school, both of them were pretty much non-believers.

  “Well, the teacher was on an especially long tirade about the importance of magic and work when a student spoke something Ancient. He didn’t like it and asked the student to repeat what they said in the common tongue. When they refused, he started barking at them, and then the kid started crying.” Theo rubbed his eyes as if trying to rid himself of the image. “The others looked like they didn’t want to get punished either, so they said nothing. We weren’t sure what we were supposed to do—the instructions were to observe and not to intervene.”

  He took a deep breath. “So, the teacher goes to the kid’s desk and roughly grabs them by the arm, dragging them across the hut to the front, where everyone could see them bawl their eyes out.”

  Silence.

  “And then he struck the kid across the face. Once, and they stopped crying. Twice, they just looked at the teacher in panic. Third time...well,” Theo exhaled loudly, his expression detached. “Well, they didn’t get to, as you can probably guess.”

  “Faris.”

  “He started walking over from the first hit, see, and the teacher only saw him approaching after the second. That’s why he stopped.”

  Silence.

  “But Faris still hit him in the face, yes. He hit him so hard, he drew blood.”

  “Why didn’t I hear about this?” Ty whispered. It was grounds for more than just expulsion, attacking members of MATS; not to mention Faris was still a student.

  “I thought maybe he would tell you.” Theo wrung his hands. “Of course, the teacher retaliated, but not before Faris whispered something to him. I couldn’t hear what it was, but it certainly did the trick. The teacher returned to lecturing, Faris picked up the child and gave him to me to heal, and then he left. When the lecture finished, he was standing outside, arms crossed. Looking livid at the world as usual. I didn’t pry.”

  His face was unreadable as he concluded his story, returning to the book he had been reading. “Em struck me a lot as a kid. I wonder if I should feel more resentment toward him.”

  “You think of him as your savior.”

  “You’re right. He could have beaten me night and day under the guise of discipline, and I would have loved him all the same.”

  The brevity of his answer, the immediate reply—she could feel her chest tighten.

  “Did your mother ever hit you?”

  She didn’t even need to think about it. “No.”

  “…What do you think you would have done?”

  During his retelling of the story, she had thought about it. She had tried really hard to think about it, but it was tough when she had had so little contact with others all her life.

  “I don’t know, I…would probably be confused at first. I’ve never seen an adult strike a child,” she answered measuredly, observing his reaction.

  He nodded and flipped a page in his book. “I think most wouldn’t intervene. Especially given our orders. Faris has always followed orders perfectly, hasn’t he?”

  Ah.

  He flipped another few pages, not reading the words at all. “I wonder which of his parents hit him as a kid.”

  “Why not both?”

  Ty and Theo both looked up to watch a figure walk out of the dorm passageway and into the kitchen.

  “Not sure why you’re so surprised, dude’s got at least a few screws loose or somethin’ from being treated like a punching bag.”

  They watched Kor—now clad in a loose top, shorts, and slippers—rummage noisily through a drawer and then pull out a spoon, which she promptly stuck into her mouth before inspecting the overhead cabinets. “Wha’th this all abou’, an’way?”

  Originally, Ty had expected Theo to answer, but he seemed to be deep in thought, the back of his hand to his mouth as he flipped through some more pages.

  “It depends how much you heard,” she managed to respond despite her surprise.

  Kor giggled, getting a jar of something out of a cabinet and shutting it before walking over. “Ooh, spicy. Looks good on you.”

  Impervious to the comment, Ty countered, “When did Faris tell you this?” As far as anyone in the class knew, Kor and Faris butted heads the most.

  The chemist looked unperturbed as she dug her spoon into a jar of sweet fruit preserves. “What? About his parents? It was a bet; we were playing cards. He lost.” And then she put a spoonful into her mouth, savoring both the bite and Ty’s bewildered reaction.

  “And he honored it.”

  “Mmm, don’t get me wrong—” She waved her spoon loftily in the air. “He’s a piece of shit most of the time, but dude got that disgusting noble honor. Was fun to knock that cockiness down a peg.”

  About to append her page on Faris, Ty reconsidered for a moment as she knitted her brows. “Wait, what are you doing here for? I have your report.”

  Korinna pouted, looking comically offended with her silver spoon still in her mouth. “Mrey, I wras gon’ to tell you somethin’ else I ‘memberd.”

  “Oh?”

  She took the utensil out and licked her lips delightfully. “I mean, other than looking for some midnight sweets. Anyway, there was one family who declined to let us talk to them. We asked to be let in, and some lady came out to shoo us away. Said something about someone’s arrival, and that they needed to prepare the ‘seal rights.’ Dunno what it means, thought you might.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Seal rites?”

  Sensing that something was amiss, Kor leaned forward. “You know?”

  It was in General History.

  “I—no, I mean, did you ask what—”

  It wasn’t in the class material. You were doing extra studying in the library.

  “You know something, Ty, now out with it,” prodded Kor, leaning so close to the tactician she could see herself reflected in her classmate’s intense eyes.

  “Somewhat,” Ty said apprehensively, heart racing. “Yes, I’ve heard…of something like that.”

  I can’t do it. I can’t tell her any of this.

  “Uh-huh…?” continued to prod Kor.

  “I-I’m not sure. Maybe I…read it somewhere, in the library.” The words sounded like an excuse. “I don’t have anything concrete for you right now,” she added hastily to her earlier statement after a brief pause, realizing that it wasn’t a complete lie.

  You can’t even admit the truth to yourself.

  “Mmm.” Kor kept her narrowed eyes on Ty as she took another spoonful of preserves and straightened up in her spot. “Alright then, keep your secrets. I’m going back to my room, but I’ve got my eye on you, lead.”

  Like déjà vu, the sound of shuffling slippers echoed down the hallway, leaving two students in the common room again.

  “Seal rites, huh? You’ve really read something about it before?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, eyes still fixed on the doorway, remembering how she had emerged from it several weeks ago, after she had checked up on Callie and Elias but before she had gone to find Theo in the dining hall.

  Yes, it had been something they had all read about.

  “The Pyre of Northfield.”