“Follow me,” was all she said.

  I could tell I wasn’t going to get anything from this woman, so I turned to Sparrow and gave her my best reassuring smile.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” she whispered through her sobs.

  “It’s okay. I’ll come find you,” I whispered as I pulled my hand from hers, begging myself to believe my own words.

  Once on the other side, I followed the woman down a narrow white hall and through another closed white door into an even smaller white room. There was a cold looking silver table and a wall lined with all kinds of strange looking tools inside the room. I had a feeling the team of eager white coats staring at me were planning to use them on me and I shuddered.

  Now I saw why Jemma had been howling. I tried to keep my protests to a minimum for Sparrow’s sake, knowing she could hear me.

  The team of white coats stripped off my ragged clothing and bathed me, ignoring my struggles for modesty. Afterward, they put me on the hard metal table to examine me, peering into my eyes, checking my reflexes and trying to look into my mouth. Although they refused to answer any of my questions, they were much gentler than the Luxors had been, so I decided to conserve my energy and stop fighting them.

  Somehow I survived all the poking and prodding. When the team of medics backed away from me I felt raw, but better somehow. They had bathed me and scrubbed my skin pink. Despite my feelings of humiliation at being bathed by strangers, it actually felt good to be clean for a change. The white coats had treated all my scrapes and wounds with some sort of salve that was soothing and smelled pretty, like mint and flowers. It reminded me of the sweet fragrance from the red flower Jovi had put in my hair while we were in the forest. My heart panged when I thought of her, but it also steeled my reasons for being here.

  When the white coats finally left me alone, I sat up on the table, letting my legs swing under me. I examined my trimmed nails and the foreign paint that covered them. I looked down at my wiggling toes, watching the light shimmer over the fresh coat of matching onyx polish that coated them. But another shimmer suddenly caught my eye.

  There was a mirror on the nearby wall. I hopped off the table and padded barefoot to it and let out a tiny gasp! My hair was cut short; blonde waves rioting every which way. But the most shocking discovery was the large bald patch on the left side of my head, just above my ear. The white coats had spent a lot of time trying to repair the hack job the Luxors had welcomed me with and now I was left with a shiny bald spot that ran from my left temple to the nape of my neck! I ran my hands across the smooth skin. It was a bizarre feeling. I surveyed my new look. I couldn’t believe that my mop of blonde curls was gone! I’d spent so much time despising my quirky locks and now that they were gone, I felt naked. It was like they had taken some of my identity with them. I saw a strange dark mark above my left ear and leaned in closer to the mirror to examine it.

  It was another tattoo, the same LVX I had on my shoulder, but much smaller. Had it been there all my life? I was engrossed in examining this new tiny tattoo in the mirror. It seemed like there was a red mark just behind my tattoo. Was it another scrape from the Luxors who’d savagely hacked off my hair? I twisted and turned but I couldn’t get the exact angle to see it clearly. I was so close that I rested my hands against the cool glass. The brightness of my eyes caught my attention. They’d never looked so blue. As I was gazing at the way my eyelids glittered I thought I noticed a familiar celestial shimmer in the upper corner of the mirror. “No mom, not here,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes tightly.

  “What do you think?” asked a cheerful voice.

  My eyes flew open and I jumped back when I saw a new form reflected in the mirror. My heart pounded as I spun around to face the person standing in my room. She must have entered when I had my eyes closed.

  I let out a sigh of relief. For a moment I had feared, yet half-hoped, that it was my mother’s voice I had heard. I collected myself and answered.

  “Um, I don’t know,” I replied honestly to the young woman. “I feel naked,” I said rubbing my arms with a shiver. The light smock that tied in the back did nothing to insulate me against the chill of the stark medical room.

  “I brought something to help with that,” she said walking toward me with an armful of white material. “But what about the rest of you?”

  I turned back to the mirror warily to examine my reflection. No sign of my mother.

  Of course not, Geneva. Jemma veiled your powers. Stop letting your imagination run away with you, I mentally scolded myself.

  I refocused on my reflection and if I was looking past the shock of my new hairstyle; I guess I could say I’d never looked better. My skin glowed and my eyes seemed bluer and more sparkly than usual. My normally plain features looked like the painted perfection I’d seen on the students’ faces when we’d arrived.

  “What’s on my face?” I asked, gently rubbing my fingers over my rosy cheeks.

  “That’s called rouge. Isn’t it fun?” she said sounding delighted as she walked up behind me. “They’re cosmetics. Here, you have your own set.”

  She handed me a tiny white bag. It was soft with braided grey cording to tie it closed. I stared at it in my hands, not sure what to do.

  “It’s a lot to get used to, I know, but it’s all for the best, you’ll see,” the girl reassured me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked turning my attention to look at the girl face to face.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you need it or anything,” she added apologetically, scrunching her up-turned nose in embarrassment. “It’s just another luxury Headmaster has brought from Lux for us to enjoy.”

  “And what about this?” I pointed to the tattoo on my scalp.

  “Oh, that. You’ve had that all your life, or at least all your life that you’ve spent as an orphan. The Troian Academy gave it to you when you got the one on your shoulder. I guess it was a precaution so that no one would think of getting clever and trying to change their identities.”

  “Don’t you mean the Troian Center?”

  “No, it’s called the Troian Academy now. You’ll learn all about it during orientation.”

  I looked at her skeptically, but she only smiled.

  “Anyway, I imagine Headmaster shaved your head to verify you are who you say you are.”

  “Seems a bit harsh,” I said bitterly.

  “Don’t worry. He didn’t single you out. He did it to all the orphans when he took over.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “He does seem a little paranoid if you ask me.”

  “So you’re not an orphan?” I asked noticing that she didn’t have a tattoo on her arm.

  “It’s complicated,” she said handing me the stack of clothes. “Here, try these on.”

  I’d never worn a garment that fit me so well. I examined the new Troian Academy uniform I was wearing, how the white tunic flowed effortlessly over my body, fluttering with a light movement when I swayed from side to side, falling right above my knee. It was sleeveless, with a high cut angle that started at my left shoulder and ran down to the right, creating a sharp geometric neckline.

  “Perfect fit!” the girl exclaimed when I emerged from behind the dressing curtain.

  I stared intently at her. At second glance I noticed she looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I had initially thought she was much older than me, but now up close I realized we were nearer in age than I’d first thought. She might still have been older, but not by much. It was hard to tell because she was tall and lean and moved with such graceful poise. Her auburn hair was cut short, adding angles to her cherub-like features. I admired the way her unruly hair tussled, giving her a pixie-ish look. She smiled at me warmly and the feeling of familiarity grew even more. Suddenly the image of riding horses popped into my head.

  “Mala?” I whispered.

  The smile disappeared from the girl’s face instantly and she suddenly looked younger, scared even. She rushed in close to me.

  “You knew my sister?” she whispered desperately.

  My hopes that I’d finally crossed paths with my favorite Grift evaporated.

  “Mala is your sister?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “I remember her from when she was a Grift here. She was always nice to me.”

  Tears welled in the girl’s haunted blue eyes.

  “You said knew?” I asked apprehensively, afraid of what the answer would be.

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, my sister was arrested by the Luxors. She was caught stealing food for us and they threw her in prison. It was only because she couldn’t find work after she was fired from the Troian Center and we were going hungry. My father was too sick to work. He’d been crippled during the Flood. Mala was only looking out for us,” she added as she ruefully shook her head.

  I sighed a breath of relief. Prison was better than death. But then again, some might argue that death was actually better than the Luxor prison. I’d heard horror stories about that place. But still, there was no coming back from death.

  Unless you’re the Ponte deorum, my subconscious reminded me. I shrugged that thought away and asked, “How did you end up here?”

  “My father passed away last month and with Mala in prison, the law states I have to come here until I turn seventeen and I’m of age,” she said bitterly.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” I said. “And I’m sorry you ended up here. Mala was my friend, so I’m pleased to meet her sister.”

  “I’m Sadira, but everyone calls me Sadie.”

  “Geneva.” I extended my hand.

  When our hands connected I felt a cold wave wash over me. It was like her touch sent a surge of icy water through my veins! Gooseflesh rushed up my arm like a current of electricity. Even without my powers, I knew she was one of us. And this connection sparked a hopeful thought: Sadie might be one of the Pillars!

  The more I thought about it, the more I believed she had to be. This feeling... it was different, yet the same, as when I touched Nova. It was a deep-rooted connection, something that was predestined and unexplainable, but it was there nonetheless. With Nova, I had thought it was because I was hopelessly in love with him, but then I realized I had a similar feeling when I was around Jovi too. Now that I had another experience to go off of, I was sure I was right.

  I hadn’t ever wondered why I felt such a kinship with Jovi. I had attributed it to her magnetic personality, but in this moment I knew it was more than that. It was because she was a Pillar. I hadn’t even known about the Pillars when I met Jovi, or Nova, but now that I was feeling this same connection to Sadie it clicked. It all made sense and I grinned with relief, finally feeling confident that we could complete our mission to find the Pillars, when minutes ago it had felt like a lost cause.

  Just as I was wondering if she could feel it too, her liquid blue eyes swelled with fear. I pulled my hand away quickly, not wanting to alert suspicion. I didn’t know who could be watching us in here. This new Troian Academy had me on edge."

  “Sorry,” I said. “My hands are always cold.” I rubbed them together rapidly trying to think of a way to change the subject when I noticed the startled look on Sadie’s face wasn’t fading. “That’s a cool bracelet,” I said looking at her black shimmering cuff.

  “Oh!” she said shaking herself back to reality and bursting into action again. “I almost forgot. You need your bracelet.”

  Sadie scurried to the table I had been lying on and pulled a small wooden box out from under it. She brought it to me and timidly nodded for me to open it.

  I hesitantly obliged, pulled the thin gold latch up and opened the box. Inside was the same black metal cuff that Sadie wore.

  “Put it on,” she said.

  “It’s for me?”

  “Yes. We all get one. It’s Headmaster’s gift to us. It’s how much he believes in our promising future.”

  I was about to slide it onto my wrist when I heard her say Malakai’s name.

  “Why would he give us a gift? It seems kind of suspicious to me,” I said hesitating.

  “What’s taking so long?” called a shrill voice.

  We both turned to see a tiny woman in a white coat in the doorway.

  “Sorry, ma’am. I was just securing Geneva’s bracelet.”

  “Finish your task quickly and return her to the waiting room. The next one is almost ready for you.” And with that she closed the door.

  “Just put it on, Geneva, you heard her. I have to get you to the waiting room.”

  “I don’t know if I want to wear this. Something doesn’t seem right about it,” I said, turning it over and over in my hand. It was much heavier than it looked and had a strange dull shimmer to it. It gave me an uneasy feeling of déjà vu, but before I could think on it further, Sadie snatched it from my hands and clasped it on my wrist.

  “Sadie!” I shouted.

  “It’s just a piece of jewelry. Come on, you heard her. We have to go! Please?”

  There was a look of fearful panic in her pleading blue eyes that compelled me to give up my protests and follow. I could tell I made her nervous after our handshake. And, if she truly was one of the Pillars, I needed to keep on her good side.

  “Fine,” I sighed.

  Sadie thrust a small jar into my hand. “Here, put this on each night. It helps your hair grow back faster.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it,” she urged and dashed from the room.

  Chapter 5

  I followed a different white coat woman from my exam room after Sadie left, eagerly asking her where my friends were and where she was taking me. She gave me the silent treatment until we walked through the door to another waiting room, where I caught the first glimpse of my friends. I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked passed her and saw all of them. All except Sparrow, that is.

  “Ah, much better. You all look splendid!” the white coat woman said, greeting my friends.

  I had to agree. Despite our strange haircuts, I’d never seen my friends look better. When I first caught sight of Nova after his makeover I let out an audible gasp.

  He shot to his feet when he saw me, but the white coat woman sternly warned him to sit down.

  I was glad she had stopped him, because in a moment of weakness I’d forgotten about Jemma’s trick and I wanted nothing more than to run into his arms. I regained my composure and nodded to him, trying to wordlessly convey that I was all right.

  But I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Partly for sheer relief to see he was okay and also because I’d never seen him look like this. He had a habit of making me drool over his gorgeous features, but this was something all together different. I’d only known him as John #18 here at the Troian Center, or Nova, the fugitive, while we hid in the forest. We’d been in the forest so long that we’d all started to look a little unkempt. But now, he was Nova the Troian Academy student. He looked older and handsome in his new crisp white linen uniform. The starched mandarin collar of his uniform fit snuggly under his tan, chiseled jawbones. I gazed up to his perfect lips and watched them part slightly as he released a frustrated breath. They were in the perfect shape of a resting bow, with the corners slightly turned down at his discontent. I followed the sweeping lines of his face up to his blond crew cut. I mourned his golden waves that so often made me think of flames. But without his hair gently curling about his face, he had nothing to distract from his gorgeous features. His beauty was more raw and defined than ever.

  I started to feel a bit light-headed and realized I’d been holding my breath. Being this close to Nova was impossible. I tried to look away from him but I couldn’t. My eyes strayed to his furrowed brows. His right eyebrow had a tiny pink line through it, interrupting his perfection. I felt anger at who or what had caused him pain and injury, but I’d already cataloged the scar as yet another endearing part of Nova that I loved. I allowed my gaze to wander to his green eyes and was struck by the intensity with which they glowed. They were so brilliant that they seemed made of luminescent moonstones from some distant planet.

  Nova’s eyes locked with mine for an instant and I felt my cheeks flush brightly under the rouge the white coats had caked on me. I averted my eyes when I heard someone clear their throat. It was Remi. I found myself startled and gawking at his appearance too. His transformation may have been the most dramatic of all. He looked so grown up. If I hadn’t heard Remi’s familiar voice come out of the strange looking boy’s mouth, I may not have even recognized him. Remi had shaggy, brown hair framing his round boyish face for as long as I could remember. He was constantly sweeping it away from his bashful, chocolate eyes. The boy I stared at now had a short buzz cut. His cropped hair was dark, like the color of his keen eyes and arched brows. I watched the angular lines of his face twitch into that smile I’d known all my life. I followed the curve of his face to the tiny tattoo on his scalp. XXVI, #26. Just as Sadie had said, it matched the one on his arm. Not knowing we’d had them all this time unnerved me.

  What else didn’t we know about ourselves, I wondered.

  I pulled my eyes from Remi to survey the rest of my friends. Journey looked mostly the same. His tawny hair was shorter and he had a shaved spot above his left ear as well, revealing his tattoo; but other than that, he was just a cleaner version of his normal hulking self. His sharp amber eyes scanned the room uneasily. He was no doubt searching for Sparrow.

  “She’s okay,” I mouthed silently to him.

  He nodded, but still couldn’t relax.

  I looked away from his nervously bouncing leg and settled my gaze on Jemma. Somehow she still looked perfect. She had struggled hard against the Luxors, resulting in a few high scalp marks. Her shiny black hair was now shaved high above her left ear, with the rest of it swept to the right and cut into a fierce bob that fell chin length and angled shorter toward the back of her head. Her dark eyes sparkled, reflecting the shimmer of the cosmetics that had been expertly painted on her face, highlighting her beautiful features.

  I shook my head in disbelief. Only my sister could get partially scalped and come out looking more beautiful than ever. I sighed, knowing though I was clean and made up too, I could never hold a candle to Jemma. It was impossible having a gorgeous sibling, but I reminded myself, looks weren’t everything. Jemma was cruel and deceitful and no amount of beauty could conceal such darkness for long.

 

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