Page 65 of Under Restless Skies

That’s settled then. No dress for me. “No,” I mutter.

“She’s new,” Celine says. “But she’s a recruit like us, or almost like us. Her name should be here.”

My friend wants to help me, and yet all she’s doing is making me want to disappear.

“It’s fine,” I say with a smile. “I don’t even like balls.”

Celine snorts. “Because you’ve never been to one!” She turns to the woman again. “Can you check? Please, please, please!”

The woman looks at her, at me, then takes a piece of paper and places it on the counter. “Write your name, and I’ll look.”

She hands me an inked quill and I hold it, my hand trembling, wondering who exactly she’ll ask, and if it’s going to seem that I want to sneak into a ball for which I was not invited. Why wasn’t I invited? The thought comes to me like a punch.

“Oh, give me that.” Celine takes the paper and quill from my hand, writes Mayara of the Earth, and passes the paper to the woman. “There. Can you check it, please?”

Now I want to disappear. It’s one thing not to be invited to an event, and another thing to have someone make absolutely sure that you don’t belong there. I want to strangle Celine, even if I also want to hug her. She obviously means well.

My body and mind are numb, and yet I follow my friends and find myself in Celine’s dormitory, a small room with two bunk beds, lit by thin sunhole rays.

A wardrobe with hangers stands by one wall, from which she pulls her purple dress.

“Ta-da!”

It’s a simple satin dress with some embroidery at the collar and a puffy skirt. Still, Celine’s happiness makes the garment look magical, contrasting against her blond hair. At least her joy cheers me up.

“You’ll look so pretty!” I grin at her.

Nelly also smiles.

“I know!” Celine places the dress in front of her, as if to give us an idea of what she’ll look like, then puts it back on the hanger.

“Who are your roommates?” I ask as I look at the empty beds.

“Cynthia only. The others…” Her voice trails off.

“Dead?” I ask.

Celine shakes her head. “One was expelled. The other…” A wooden urn lies on top of a desk. “Her ashes.”

I’m not really sure how that would work. “Ashes?”

Celine blinks. “I thought everyone knew that. Auranius burns the recruits’ bodies. When they die. They send the ashes to their family. If there’s no family, to their friends.”

I know a little about burning, even if the Grease & Spice didn’t usually serve anything roasted. “Really? But it takes a long time to burn something to ashes.”

“Dragon fire.” Celine shrugs. “It’s why they say it’s a painless way to die. It’s instant. I mean, I’m sure that turning someone to ashes takes longer, but Auranius does it.”

I’m trying to imagine it, and one piece doesn’t make sense. “Who collects the ashes?”

“Auranius’ acolytes.” Her voice is strained, and I realize this conversation’s too morbid for someone who lost a friend.

“Sorry for asking, I was just⁠—”

“It’s fine.” Celine shakes her head as if to shake away the thought. “You know what? You two could move to this room.”

“I don’t think I can,” I say.

Nelly looks around. “Are you sure? Can they mix first and second years?”