Page 7 of Veiled Wings (Sciathain Academy 1)

It certainly had worn me flat out.

“You’re fine.” I snorted and reached out to try to calm her down. “I’m nervous, too. I feel like I’ve tripped into a new realm of existence. That might be the lack of sleep. That bed is fine. Should we start unpacking?”

She let out a long breath. “First things first. Let me introduce you to the others. I know they have been waiting to meet you.”

They had? Why?

Filled with a plethora of unanswered questions, I followed her back into the common area between the four rooms. It had two plush couches and some lamps. It looked like the perfect study area to me or maybe just a place to curl up with a good book. But from the looks of this place alone, I doubted I would have time to do anything but study. I glanced over my shoulder at the pamphlet Titania talked about with the rules but decided to leave it for later. I would probably have to lay it out and pin it to the walls to remember.

I was not a good rule follower. That much was certain from my high school journey.

“Merribeth, Lindsey, Corinne, this is Endy. Endy, these are the girls I know. The others we’ll have to meet together.”

These girls were the same as the others in the limo, minus the attitude and nose firmly in the air. They spoke to me as though I was a long-lost friend, and we soon settled into couches and relaxed, really getting to know each other.

A wind chime of a bell rang above us. “Orientation in the gymnasium in ten minutes. Everyone please be prompt. Let’s get this year started on the right wing.”

The right wing? She must’ve meant the right foot.

Still, as I sat there listening to the others speak, there was something off here. It wasn’t the grandeur of the place or the expensive setting. Rather, they were using words were well above my vocabulary level, or maybe I was simply that daft.

A yawn came over me, but I tried to play it off. Damn, I was tired. It had been the longest day and yet, the others seemed to have the stamina of toddlers on an energy drink binge.

After orientation, I was so taking a nap.

Chapter Seven

“This is the gym. We practice everything here. That’s why the ceilings are so high.” Alara’s lack of energy after her mouth tirade hadn’t lasted long. It was like our little pow-wow in the suite common room had turned the handle on her box, and she’d popped out on level ten again.

“Oh, okay.” What I really wanted to ask was what in the hell was being practiced that required fifty-foot ceilings, and I was being conservative. Also, maybe I was just a cynic, but the place didn’t smell like a gym at all. There wasn’t the lingering mustiness of old socks and sweaty pubescent armpits and, while I was glad, it made me question that this area was a gym at all. It had the basketball goals and the bleachers, along with the rubber flooring, but these people didn’t seem like the dodgeball types. I didn’t even see the typical shelves of dodgeballs and volleyballs lining the walls.

“We can sit up here.”

I followed Alara to an empty spot halfway up the bleachers. As we sat, I took in the place and saw one person who stood out from the rest. He had platinum hair and, even from my vantage point, his pale-blue eyes pierced me.

“That’s Adair. Adair Kensington Prometheus the Third, to be exact. He’s off-limits. Just trust me on that.”

I crinkled up my nose and looked at her. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested. I was just observing all the people here.”

Alara scooted closer. “Let me break it down for you. I forget that you haven’t been here long. I mean, with who you are… Anyway, Adair is with the royals. That’s what we call them. They’re not all royal, but they are all filthy rich. And if you ask them, they will tell you just how rich and how beautiful and how powerful they are. Hanging on him like she’s his IV bag of life is Nissa. Nissania Canonista Oakenshield. I shit you not, that’s her name. Sounds like she’s right out of a history novel of mean girls.”

The woman she was talking about was stop-everyone-in-their-tracks gorgeous. Women, men, buffalos, bullet trains, all of them stopped dead by her beauty. And Adair was no exception. He seemed to be ensconced in her presence, equally her lifeline as she was his.

“They look really in love,” I remarked and noted the bitterness in my tone. It came out without permission.

“Yeah, well, between you and me, it’s all for show as far as what I can tell. He hits on anything that moves. But they are betrothed. Have been since they were both in diapers. Something about those royal people, they kind of ride the line of incestuous without crossing it, if you ask me. But Titania is his aunt, so he’s putting on airs since she’s right in the room. Plus, his parents are on the board.”

I whipped my head toward her. “The headmistress is his aunt?”

Alara nodded and pulled a hairband from her pocket in order to pull her wild curls into a bun on top of her head. It was impressive to say the least. “She’s his dad’s sister.”

I leaned back after making sure no one was behind me and used the bleacher at my back as a lean-to. “Okay, who else. I’m all gossip-hungry now. Plus, it looks like if I don’t pay attention, I’ll be stepping on toes that are connected to asses I’d really rather not kiss.”

She snorted at me and mimicked my pose. “Over there are the wild ones. They are outcasts for the most part but it’s because their powers are so out of touch or just strange. They keep to themselves for the most part, but at things like this, they tend to flock together. They all wear that black leather band on their wrists. It’s some symbol against the tyranny—some bullshit.”

I almost asked a question, but Alara turned her body and faced another group to our right. “Those are the Chaos Keepers.”

I laughed, and she did, too. “I’m serious. They named themselves. It’s the weirdest thing. But really, they aren’t the ones you need to look out for. It’s the ones on the outskirts, the ones who don’t put themselves in a group or a category who you need to worry about.”

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