“It’s awe-inspiring at first,” she agreed. “But once classes start, you’ll find it a pit of bleak despair instead.”
I laughed at her outrageous statement. “I could never.”
She grinned impishly. “True, maybe you couldn’t. But you wouldn’t believe just how many of those books the teachers want us to read!” She gave me an inquiring look. “I assume you’ve been practicing reading?”
I nodded, and she looked relieved.
“Of course you have. I couldn’t doubt it. And I’m sure you picked it up far faster than me. I was in despair in the last few weeks before classes started, but look at you—carefree!”
She didn’t quite meet my eyes when she said it, and I knew she’d picked up that there was something wrong. But it would take time to build up the trust that had once existed between us, and she didn’t press me for answers.
When the first day of the university year finally arrived, my mother fussed over me for so long that I was half an hour late leaving the house. Thankfully, I had been planning on arriving extremely early, my nerves too tightly strung for me to have any interest lingering in bed.
It wasn’t my first time trekking through the city to the white marble walls that surrounded the University grounds. In past years I had gone just to gaze at them and dream of the future. But this section of the city—in the shadow of the palace itself—still felt foreign and unfamiliar as I made the walk on tremulous legs.
On those past occasions, the great, ornate University gates had been closed. A smaller door, cut into the gate itself, had allowed the foot traffic of the day to pass in and out. But on the first day of classes for the year, the gates stood open, welcoming the crowds of returning students.
As I stood in front of the open gates, the nerves which had chased me all the way from the lower city suddenly broke. My four brothers had attended school for differing amounts of time, but each of them had left eventually to take the role waiting for them in my father’s business. But I had known from the moment I first left school at age ten that I didn’t belong there. I had earned my place at the University through years of hard work, and waiting inside those walls was a library too vast to imagine, with all the knowledge I had ever dreamed of uncovering. I had finally arrived where I belonged.
I stepped confidently through the gateway, looking with curiosity at a black-robed young woman who entered only a step behind me. She paid me no heed, calling instead to a small clump of robed students just inside the gate. They greeted her enthusiastically, and I tried to guess if they were returning students or new Academy graduates, starting at the University for the first time like me.
My eyes didn’t linger on them long, however, drawn to the grand scene beyond them, so different from my section of the city. Imposing buildings soared above me, connected with arched walkways. But between the buildings and the gates stretched a vast courtyard featuring three elaborate fountains, their splashing water a soft background to the conversations that filled the air.
I had barely taken it all in before a voice called my name. I turned toward Gina’s excited shout with a smile already on my lips. She had offered to walk to the University with me, but I had wanted to make the journey alone on my first day—as I had firmly told all four of my brothers and my mother at least three times. But now that I had arrived, I was glad to see a friendly face. The University was enormous, and I had no idea where to go now that I was inside its grounds.
Gina dashed toward me and seized my arm, chattering happily as she dragged me over to a group of clustered students. As she had promised, they all wore outfits that matched my own new one, and I was grateful for her guidance.
“This is my oldest friend, Aria,” Gina announced to the group. “She should have been sealed with me, but she didn’t end up getting a place until the recent ceremony. So even though she’s two years behind, she’s far smarter than me and will no doubt surpass me almost immediately.”
A chuckle swept around the other students at her words, so clearly Gina was well known among them.
“You got sealed in the end,” a tall girl said, “and that’s what matters. I’m Bea. Feel free to stick close to us today. I still remember my first day far too vividly.” She shivered dramatically. “My family lives way down south, near Abalene, and I found Corrin totally overwhelming. You should have seen me when I first came up for my sealing ceremony.”
“Me too!” another girl agreed. “And then when the Spoken Mage appeared at the end of the sealing ceremony, I thought I might faint.”
“She actually spoke to me,” I said. “We had a conversation about our brothers—and then I got out of the building and discovered I still had breakfast in my hair.”
Every one of the girls made dismayed noises of sympathy.
“I can remember my ceremony as clearly as if it was yesterday,” one of the boys said. “I was terrified I was going to have to say something, totally convinced I was going to mess it up. But of course I didn’t have to do anything at all. I couldn’t have messed it up if I tried.”
“Unless you missed it altogether,” I said dryly, recounting my own near miss and desperate sprint through the city.
Gasps of horror accompanied my tale, along with a few laughs as I described my bedraggled state and utter relief when I arrived, despite the disapproval of the official.
“I can’t believe no one told you!” the tall girl said. “What a disaster it could have been.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Gina cried. “We have a mystery on our hands. I talked to Faylee, and she said she wasn’t the one to get your name on the list, although she was delighted when she heard you were included.”
“It wasn’t Faylee?” I stared at her blankly. “But I don’t know anyone else with that kind of influence.”
“Like I said—a mystery.” Gina’s eyes shone. She loved mysteries.
I shook my head, utterly bewildered. I couldn’t thank my mysterious benefactor if I didn’t know who they were.
My eyes fell on two black-robed students entering the courtyard from one of the arched walkways. As I watched, one waved to the other and disappeared back toward the building, leaving the remaining student to cut across a corner of the courtyard alone, his focus on the building in front of him. As he turned, his face came into view, and a smile broke over my face.
It had only been two weeks since I had last seen Zak, and I wasn’t prepared for the wave of joy that crashed over me at sight of his familiar face.
