Think horror-movie zombies, except they’re looking to tear aparteverythingin their path rather than fixating on brains.
The leaders of lucent society like to say that our radiant ancestors charged us with a sacred duty before they faded away. It’s up to us to protect human civilization and steer it onto a better path.
From what I’ve seen, most of the high-ranking lucent families are focused on getting themselves on as lucrative and powerful a path as possible, to hell with anyone else. But the Beacon graduates who go out to watch for and destroy any voids that appear—they fulfill our supposed great calling.
Whether they want to or not.
I meander along the sidewalk across the street from the campus and find myself gazing at the two tall apartment buildings of matching concrete that tower over the school.
The lucent community isn’t big enough to support multiple educational institutions across the continent. When our authorities discover kids with newly emerged magical talent, they uproot them from their drab families to bring them here. When a lucent family working elsewhere has kids, they’re scooped up as soon as they’re due to start their schooling.
One of those apartment buildings houses all the solo kids in dorms, watched over by lucent caretakers, forbidden from speaking to any drab relatives they left behind. The other is home to many of the longer-established but poorer lucent families who have positions in the city.
It’s by far the cheapest accommodation within walking distance to the schools. The lower-class families who prefer a little more independence have to find their homes farther afield, like Mom did.
Like my matches and I did, in my reality.
I swallow down the lump that thought brings to my throat and continue my circuit of the campus. Staying late seems to bethe norm at Beacon; lots of kids ranging from preteens to my age are only just now drifting away from the school.
Keeping my ears pricked, I catch some explanations in the chatter. One older teen rubs his arm and mutters, “Remedial combat? More like remedial beatdowns.”
A younger girl grimaces at her friends. “I can’t believe Mrs. Donaldson gave us detentionagain. Next time I’m going to shove that pen down her throat.”
A frazzled looking kid sighs where she’s marching next to a guy who looks like her older brother. “Why won’t they let us bring books home from the library? I hate having to do all the reading in there.”
As I stroll along, I get lots of sideways glances at my Luminary uniform, which I’ve done nothing to cover up. I even give my blazer a little tug now and then for a rustle of fabric and a glint of the crest’s gold embroidery catching the sunlight.
Lots of narrowed eyes flick over my face after they notice me, judging me in a very different way than Stella would have.
Every time, I look back at them, watching for any hint of recognition, of a more personal anger than a resentment of anyone from the opposing campus. Maybe even a friendly welcome. I have no clue at all what my doppelganger might have been up to here.
Was she meeting a secret boyfriend—or more than one? Buying drugs or, for all I know, dealing them? Finding some other escape from her frustrations with her poor-little-rich-girl life?
I don’t get the impression that any of the students see me as anything other than an unwelcome stranger, though. No sign of any mysterious black sedans either.
When I’ve come all the way back around to the north end of the campus, I cross the street and dawdle at the edge of theschool parking lot. Maybe closer proximity will flush someone out.
After a few minutes, a couple of guys who look to be around sixteen veer my way. When I glance at them, one boy’s lip is already curled with disgust. My pulse jumps with an unsettling mix of hope and dread.
“What are you doing here, fancy girl?” the first guy asks as they come to a halt a few paces away. His gaze skims over me, hard and cold, but to my disappointment there’s no familiarity in his tone. “Got bored living the high life?”
His friend puffs up, flexing his shoulders beneath his track jacket. “All those Luminary assholes think even their shit shines. We don’t want any shiners around here.”
I don’t think they know Elodie, but the confrontation might catch the attention of someone who does. Just to be safe, I tuck my hands into my blazer’s pockets so I can grip the knife I’m still carrying.
“I’m just walking by,” I say in a mild tone, scanning the parking lot for other persons of interest. “Not trying to offend anyone.”
The first guy snorts. “We’re not a fucking zoo for you to vacation at. Go walk somewhere else.”
I shrug. “I’m pretty sure this sidewalk is free to everyone.”
His mouth pulls into a scowl, but his friend snickers. “If shewantsto hang around… why don’t we see if that ass really glows?”
He twists his hand, and a gust of ephemera-driven breeze whisks past—and under—my skirt.
I doubt they catch more than a glimpse of my panties before I’ve slapped the fabric back down. I’m rolling my eyes, forming a retort before moving on, when a massive figure hurtles between us.
In a split-second, Salvatore has sent the first boy staggering backward while smacking the legs out from under the second. He shoves the second guy right onto his back on the pavement and plants his foot on the guy’s chest.
