ã€ŠClass Reptiliaã€‹


 1: The City of Ciradyl

    Ember brought her hand to her face, examining the little crescents that her nails left on her palms. Ahead, the line of soon-to-be academy graduates disappeared into the registration building. In their long, burgundy robes embroidered with the Wentworth crest, they were instantly recognizable as the city¡¯s best and brightest.

    The air was hot and still, choked with smoke from Ciradyl¡¯s factories. Ember pulled her robe away from her body, cringing at the sticky sweat. The other graduates seemed not to notice as they chattered excitedly, congratulating each other and sharing their plans for the future.

    As the line inched forward painfully slowly, Ember found herself on the outskirts of a group of five friends: one girl and four boys. She recognized their faces, but her solitary nature and the academy¡¯s size meant that she had never had the chance¡ªor misfortune¡ªto talk to them.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you nervous?¡± one of the guys asked the girl. His tone was light and flirtatious, an obvious excuse to engage her in conversation before the others could.

    ¡°Well, I-¡±

    ¡°Of course she¡¯s not nervous,¡± one of the other boys cut in. ¡°No one as lovely as her could be red status.¡±

    ¡°I would never suggest-¡±

    ¡°Her bloodline is as pure as the queen¡¯s. I know because our families are close.¡±

    A death glare stretched between the boys. ¡°No one has turned the serum red in years,¡± the girl pointed out in an attempt to diffuse the situation. ¡°Remember what the professors said: the chance that any of us are Linnaean is next to zero!¡± She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ¡°Personally, I¡¯m not sure they even exist.¡±

    Ember found herself nodding. For once, a popular girl had sense¡ªthe test and all the pomp and circumstance surrounding graduation was an utter waste of time. At least the academy graduates didn¡¯t have to wait in the same line as the other kids coming of age.

    A bird flew low overhead, a welcome distraction, and Ember¡¯s sharp eyes followed it as it disappeared into the hulking cluster of stone buildings that was the City of Ciradyl. A line of smoke from the nearest factory stained the sky permanently gray, and tremors ran underneath her feet, the result of constant explosions from the mines in the mountains. Almost unconsciously, she folded her hands over each other and said a short prayer for her father¡¯s safety as he worked.

    The line crept forward for another two hours before it was finally time for Ember to pass through the doors of the registration building. Like the rest of Ciradyl, it was gothic and imposing, marked on the outside with a set of wings, the symbol of the city¡¯s church.

    Ember¡¯s boredom gave way to reluctant nervousness as she approached. Inside the building was row after row of long wooden tables lined with chairs. Medics hurried back and forth, their arms filled with samples and paperwork. An admin directed her to sit down, and she selected an empty chair at the table furthest from the door. On the opposite side, a boy was standing up to leave, and Ember almost opened her mouth to ask how the test had gone before thinking the better of it. Once he heard her accent, he¡¯d know that she was the transfer from the podunk town up north.

    A medic appeared next to her, holding a clipboard and a box of supplies. Wordlessly, Ember handed her the wooden card that identified her as a student of Wentworth. ¡°Ember Whitlock?¡± the medic asked, holding the clipboard so that just the rims of her glasses showed above the edge. As she leaned forward, an offensively large, winged pendant spilled out from inside her shirt. ¡°You¡¯re turning eighteen in just a few days, is that right?¡±

    Ember nodded. ¡°Happy early birthday, and congratulations on your graduation. It¡¯s an honor to meet the city¡¯s new administrators¡­ Unless you¡¯re going to university?¡±

    Ember offered a rare smile. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m going up to Oxbow in the fall.¡±

    The nurse¡¯s eyes widened, a reaction that Ember become familiar with in the last couple of months¡ªafter all, studying in another city-state was an honor reserved for only the top of each graduating class. ¡°That¡¯s quite the accomplishment. You must be quite bright.¡± When Ember shrugged, she finally began the examination. ¡°Now, is there any history of the affliction in your family?¡±

    Ember shook her head, resisting the urge to scoff. No one with a Linnaean family member (if they did indeed exist) could live in Ciradyl. ¡°Not that I know of, but I¡¯m not close with my mom¡¯s side.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, honey. No one as sweet and talented as you could possibly be afflicted. Are you familiar with the test?¡±

    ¡°We learned about it at the academy,¡± Ember smiled politely, refraining from adding that it was all a load of hogwash anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you the brief version, then. Today, I¡¯ll collect your blood, and afterward, I¡¯ll mix it with the serum. An admin will check the results in three days. If the serum stays clear, you¡¯re not afflicted. If it turns red¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°Well, you know what happens. Anyway, I¡¯ll have you out of here quicker than you know it.¡± With deft movements, she unwrapped a clean needle, which she pushed into a vein in Ember¡¯s forearm. Ember watched, fascinated, as her dark-red blood filled the vial.

    The nurse pulled the needle out, wiped the droplet of blood off Ember¡¯s arm, and put the sample into a fresh bag. ¡°You¡¯re all done,¡± she said. ¡°You can go ahead and head home now. We¡¯ll send you a letter when your results are ready. Congratulations again!¡±

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    ***

    Ember leaned back on her bed, exhausted from a day spent working at the infirmary. Her father had told her not to take the job¡ªthat caring for the sick was below her new station¡ªbut she needed the money if she was going to afford room and board at Oxbow.

    It was dusk, but still uncomfortably warm inside her torch-lit room. From the front of the house came the sound of her dad banging pots and pans together as he prepared dinner. Ember smiled, thinking of how the freshly cut meat would taste when it was ready. It was her favorite dish, a celebratory meal for her graduation.

    She tilted her head up, looking at the ceiling. Stuck to the stone was a wooden star, a reminder of her childhood. Her father had painted it with some chemical so that it glowed in the dark at night. They¡¯d put it up together in the first week since moving to Ciradyl to make the ramshackle house feel more like home. Back then, the new city had seemed terrible and tremendous, the factories and smithies a far cry from the farmland they knew.

    Her father was the only thing she¡¯d miss about the city. Everything else was stark and unforgiving, like a machine that sucks you in and spits you back out in pieces.

    A series of urgent bangs sounded at the door, startling Ember. The tiny house quivered, and the rustling in the kitchen stopped. Ember slid out of bed, peering around the doorframe. ¡°Dad?¡±

    There was no answer. She stepped forward slowly, making the old floorboards creak and groan. Three silhouettes materialized behind her father¡¯s back, and the sour taste of dread spread across her tongue.

    The men were speaking in low tones, their voices piling over her father¡¯s. ¡°Dad, who is it?¡± she interjected.

    ¡°Ember,¡± her father said without turning, ¡°go to your room.¡±

    It was the harshest he¡¯d spoken in years. ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡±

    ¡°Is that her?¡± one of the men asked, pushing past her father and stepping into the house. Ember¡¯s eyes widened¡ªhe was dressed in the red and gray uniform of a government administrator, and the bottom half of his face was covered with a tight mask. ¡°Miss Ember, you¡¯re going to need to come with us.¡±

    ¡°No, she¡¯s not going anywhere,¡± her father snapped back, moving to stand in front of Ember despite his short stature and wiry limbs.

    ¡°She needs to receive treatment,¡± the official replied with poorly concealed disgust.

    ¡°Hold on-¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Ember demanded, aware that she was of a higher rank than her father, ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    Remaining an arm¡¯s length from Ember as if she were contagious, the lead official pulled a paper from his waistband, unfurling a several-page-long document. Reluctantly, he stretched his hand over the gap between them and offered her the scroll.

    Cautiously, Ember lowered her eyes to the paper.

    Name: Ember Whitlock

    Address: 137 Newberry Road

    General condition: AFFLICTED. Treatment will be given immediately: voluntarily or by force.

    The paper fluttered to the floor, landing by Ember¡¯s boot. ¡°This¡­ no, this is impossible.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lie,¡± her father spit out, glaring at the officials.

    The head admin official locked eyes with her, ignoring him completely. ¡°Your blood turned the serum red. You are afflicted. Linnaean.¡±

    ¡°How? This can¡¯t be¡­ I haven¡¯t mutated. I feel completely normal.¡±

    The guard took an almost imperceptible step back. ¡°You will receive treatment, but you must come with us now.¡±

    Ember¡¯s hands shook as she retrieved the documents from the ground. Her dad stood by her side, his arm around her shoulders. ¡°Sweetheart, you don¡¯t need to go with them,¡± he almost pleaded. ¡°Even if it¡¯s true, we will find a way to treat you here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not possible,¡± the official said, looking at her father like he had fallen out of a garbage shoot. ¡°The medications are only available in the City of Mendel. She will die or be executed without them.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll come with her.¡±

    ¡°No. Even we are not allowed in Mendel. It is for Linnaeans only.¡±

    Her father¡¯s face grew red with anger. ¡°No! You will not take my daughter away!¡±

    The other two officials stepped forward, one of them flicking out a long, black stick. Together, they formed an impenetrable wall. A choked noise escaped Ember¡¯s throat. ¡°L-let me pack a bag,¡± she said, stepping toward her room. For a moment, it seemed as though they would not let her go, but the head official finally nodded and held up a hand, signaling for the other men to retreat back into the doorway.

    Half in a trance, Ember walked back to her room and pulled open her dresser drawer. Hot tears ran down her face as she pulled out clothes and keepsakes, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Her father came up behind her, turning her by the shoulder and pulling her into a hug. ¡°Ember. I- I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    She shook her head through the tears, gathering up the belongings in her arms and dumping them into her rucksack. ¡°A-aren¡¯t you afraid?¡± she asked, ¡°Of me?¡±

    Her dad took her hairbrush from the top of the dresser, wrapping it in a rag and tucking it into the bag. ¡°Baby, I will never be afraid of you.¡± He turned to Ember, holding her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes, and his voice lowered to a whisper. ¡°Go now, through the window! I¡¯ll cover for you.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Ember replied desperately. Ciradyl was a heavily patrolled, walled city. ¡°Where would I go?¡±

    She gathered the bag in her arms and walked back to the officers, feeling as though she was watching herself from far away. The smell of burnt steak wafted into the living room as they escorted her out of the door and down the driveway.

    Waiting on the brick road was a covered carriage, drawn by two massive black stallions and stamped with the symbol of the Holy Order. The officials waited for her to climb into the back, then slid into the first row of passenger seats. There was a cage-like divider between them. Ember wrinkled her nose¡ªthe seats smelled antiseptic and bitter, like the inside of the infirmary.

    ¡°Wait,¡± her father said, running to catch up. He opened her fingers and pushed something into her hands. When she looked down to see the little wooden star, a fresh flurry of tears filled her eyes.

    ¡°Goodbye, Dad,¡± she whispered. ¡°I- I¡¯ll write you, okay?¡±

    ¡°I love you,¡± he replied, his voice shaking with every syllable. He reached up as if to pull her back onto the ground, but she batted his hand away. Somehow, she knew with complete certainty that they would kill him if he resisted.

    The driver cracked his whip, and Ember and her father were ripped apart. Hot tears poured down her face and onto her work clothes. As they jostled down the street, her father ran after them, his face twisted with grief. He stumbled and fell to his knees, hard, but never stopped staring at the carriage as it rounded the corner.

    Then, both he and the tiny house faded into oblivion.

 2: Essence of the Brown Bear

    When Ember opened her eyes, her tear-stained reflection stared back at her in the carriage window. It was growing dark outside, and a smattering of raindrops was making its way down the glass. Beyond were the streets of the inner city, clogged with miners and factory workers on their way back to their highrise apartments. Help me! She wanted to scream, and an hour ago, when she had been an academy graduate, they would have. But not now¡ªnot since she had been branded with the affliction.

    One last sob escaped Ember¡¯s mouth. She gripped the wooden star so that its corners bit into her skin, trying to focus on the rhythm of the horse¡¯s hooves. She glanced at the stiffed-back officials and took a shaky breath. She needed to calm down; she couldn¡¯t give them the satisfaction of knowing that they¡¯d broken her.

    ¡°Where are you taking me?¡± she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

    ¡°Mendel,¡± one of the men replied. ¡°Where all the Linnaeans go.¡± His tone, cold and cautious, made her lock her jaw.

    ¡°Am I a prisoner?¡±

    The men glanced at each other. ¡°No¡­ but you are in our care until we reach Mendel.¡±

    Ember narrowed her eyes. They were wary of her, and with that came a degree of respect. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything. Can¡¯t you help me?¡±

    There was a long pause. ¡°You must have learned about this in school.¡±

    ¡°I know that Linnaeans mutate, but I don¡¯t know why, or how.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°They are afflicted. Unholy. That is all there is to know.¡±

    They¡¯re clueless too, Ember realized. ¡°How will I be treated?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s up to the Linnaeans.¡±

    ¡°Where is Mendel?¡±

    The man gave her a look, making it clear that she was testing his patience. ¡°South.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She settled back into the seat, giving up for the time being to consider what she knew. She didn¡¯t believe that it was true. All she had was a scroll saying that she was afflicted: no physical symptoms, no family history of the disease, and no proof that her blood had really turned the serum red. It could all be a ruse, some attempt to free her spot at the university or sell her to the slavers at the border.

    Even so¡­ she looked at the men again, noting their stillness and their strained faces. It was impossible to fake fear like that¡ªthose men had seen something, or at least they thought they had. It wouldn¡¯t take much; Ciradyl was obsessed with Linnaeans. There had been whispers in her hometown, but in Ciradyl everyone knew the stories: a goat-man whose horns exploded through his head; a vulture-woman who fed on corpses until her bones became so brittle they snapped; and a wolf-child who sprouted fur and craved raw flesh.

    The carriage came to a jerky stop, and Ember realized that they had reached the boundary of the city. Ahead were Ciradyl¡¯s great gates, ironclad and twisted into the shape of wings. She leaned forward to watch as a guard climbed down from the watchtower and exchanged a few words with the driver. The guard spared a glance at her, and hope bubbled up in her stomach; maybe this was all some mistake and he would order that she be sent back home.

    The driver whispered something to the guard and his expression distorted with repulsion. Ember¡¯s heart sunk as he backed away from the carriage, waving them through, and the gates ground open with an ear-splitting screech. In front of them was the dark expanse of the city¡¯s countryside, silent and ominous like a sleeping beast.

    One of her captors swung open his window and leaned out to speak to the driver. ¡°Run the horses hard,¡± he ordered, ¡°and be on the watch for bandits.¡±

    The driver spurred the horses on, and they took off faster than before, the pounding of their hooves sending up clouds of dust. Behind them, Ciradyl shrank back over the horizon, its cathedrals and smokestacks lost to the dusk.

    ***

    Ember stirred from her half-sleep, her muscles aching from the hard carriage seats. A new dawn had lit the sky with orange and red. They had traveled through the night, past villages and caravans¡¯ encampments. If there were indeed bandits, none had dared to attack a stagecoach with Ciradyl¡¯s official seal.

    In the distance was another city, a mid-sized cluster of boxy buildings surrounded by acres of farmland. Ember recognized it as Draycott, the last city-state before the old forests of the south. They had covered at least one hundred miles since leaving Ciradyl.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The driver pushed the horses to cover the last stretch, and they soon pulled up to an opening in the stout stone gate. ¡°We¡¯re stopping here,¡± one of the men grunted. ¡°Stay in the carriage.¡±

    As an officer approached, the men got out of the carriage and stretched their legs. ¡°Welcome to Draycott,¡± the officer greeted them. His uniform bore the interlocking bars that designated him as leader of the watchmen. He eyed Ember suspiciously, then turned his attention back to her captors. ¡°I received word of your arrival last night, and the¡­ creature from the west was delivered yesterday.¡±

    ¡°What is its condition?¡±

    The watchman¡¯s face contorted. ¡°The mutations have begun, sir. My men had to change out every hour for fear of being possessed.¡±

    There was a pause. ¡°Yes, well,¡± one of Ember¡¯s captors finally spoke, ¡°it is our job to make the deliveries to Mendel. Please bring the afflicted as soon as possible.¡±

    The watchman looked at the officials with admiration. ¡°Of course, sir. I will have my men bring refreshments and change out the horses as requested. Do you require anything else?¡±

    ¡°A stiff pint. I fear that we will not reach the forest until midnight.¡±

    The watchman shivered. ¡°I do not envy you.¡± With one last glance at Ember, he took his leave and disappeared behind the city¡¯s wall.

    Ember shifted uncomfortably. Her throat was dry and her mouth filled with a taste like cotton. ¡°I need food and water,¡± she forced out, ¡°and somewhere to relieve myself.¡±

    The men scowled. It was as though they had forgotten that she was human. ¡°Fine,¡± the leader said, gesturing for her to climb out of the carriage. ¡°You can go behind the wall. They are bringing bread and lard for you and the other creature.¡±

    Ember slid out of the carriage, stumbling as her legs nearly refused to hold her weight. How mortifying, how utterly dehumanizing to be called a creature and told to piss in a bush. As she pulled down her old, sweat-stained work clothes, she grimaced at her own body odor.

    After she finished, Ember looked out over the countryside, considering making a break for it. The vast expanse of grassland stared back at her, and she swallowed uncomfortably, recognizing that she was not brave enough. Other than Draycott, there was no civilization for miles around, and the harsh sun beat down on the landscape unforgivingly. Maybe if I were an athlete, but I am a scholar, and I would be dead within hours.

    When she re-emerged, Ember heard the sound of raised voices and turned toward the entrance to the city. There, being led by four guards like a convict, was a young teenage girl with a chain around her waist and a metal cage around her mouth.

    Ember¡¯s body tingled with cold fear. Lord, what is going to happen to us? One of her original captors caught sight of her and waved her forward, and she pulled herself back up into the carriage, which was now fitted with two new thoroughbreds. A moment later, the girl was forced in behind her.

    Ember froze, every nerve in her body standing on end. She turned, slowly, to face the girl in the muzzle. Liquid shock coursed from her head to her toes. She knew, then, that it was all true¡ªthat there were beings that were neither human nor animal.

    The girl was small but broad-shouldered, with light brown eyes that fixed Ember in a pensive stare. Her dark hair was thick and matted, and dense, short fur sprouted from her skin at random intervals. Behind the cage was a slightly-downturned mouth, bloodied and split by two inch-long canines. More than her appearance, she let off a quiet but dangerous aura, like a wolf found slumbering in the woods.

    ¡°She bit me,¡± one of the officers snapped, slamming the carriage door behind the girl.

    Ember¡¯s captors eyed the newcomer warily, and one of them put a hand on the dagger at his hip. ¡°Make haste,¡± he told the driver.

    Noise filled the carriage again. The girl pushed herself up against the back of the seats with her arms clutching her stomach. Ember noticed that her limbs were scraped and bloodied and that she had no suitcase. ¡°He struck me,¡± the girl whispered in a low voice. ¡°That¡¯s why I bit him. Because he hit me.¡±

    Ember looked at her carefully. The girl was part wild, without a doubt, but Ember felt none of the fear or disgust that the men so readily displayed. ¡°What is your name?¡±

    ¡°Olga.¡±

    ¡°How old are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fourteen,¡± the girl whimpered, and suddenly she looked very much her age. ¡°What will happen to us?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Ember answered honestly. ¡°They are taking us to Mendel. They say that there are other Linnaeans there.¡±

    Olga nodded. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±

    Ember leaned forward, tapping on the divider to get the men¡¯s attention. ¡°You said that you would feed us.¡±

    With a grunt, one of them slid back the divider and handed Ember a loaf of bread wrapped in paper,  a can of lard, and a single canteen. ¡°I need the key,¡± Ember said, pointing at Olga¡¯s muzzle.

    The man seemed to think about it. Warily, he slammed the divider back in place and slipped Ember the key through the bars. ¡°You do it,¡± he snapped, jerking his head toward the girl.

    With a hint of nervousness, Ember fitted the key into place and let the metal cage fall to the floor of the carriage. ¡°Thank you,¡± Olga said, wiping the blood from her mouth. The skin around where her teeth had mutated was red and pus-filled, a mess of swollen and infected tissue. Ember winced. She must be in pain, and she needs a healer before she loses the ability to eat.

    When it was clear that an attack was not imminent, their captor turned back toward the front of the carriage. They dug into the food eagerly, sharing the canteen between them and taking small sips to savor the sweet water within. Soon after finishing, Olga yawned and curled up in the corner. Ember watched her chest rise and fall for a few beats, then looked out of the window, watching as the hills flattened and the countryside turned green.

    So Linnaeans do exist. She ran her tongue over her canines, feeling the same dull points. They do exist, but am I one of them?

 3: The Linnaean Stronghold

    The journey south was long and arduous. The carriage traveled from dawn to dusk, only pausing for the horses to rest and drink. The lonely miles stretched endlessly behind them, uninhabited except for a few villages nestled between the rolling hills. Ember sat quietly against the seats, memorizing each landmark.

    When the men looked back to check on the girls, their expressions were haggard and travel-worn. Ember had yet to see them rest, and the flask nestled between them was on its last dregs. She didn¡¯t dare question them again for fear of their volatility.

    Ember saw the first trees when the sun began to sink again. They sat atop the hillsides like lonely sentries, their branches reaching high into the sky. ¡°The forest is spreading,¡± the leader growled. ¡°Those are new trees.¡±

    ¡°How can that be?¡± another asked. ¡°They are already taller than the firs up north.¡±

    All three men stirred. ¡°It¡¯s the Linnaeans¡¯ doing,¡± the leader whispered. ¡°There is sorcery at work here.¡±

    Soon more trees cast shadows over the path. The tall grass of the countryside cropped up in smaller segments until it gave way entirely. The horses slowed, whinnying nervously. Ahead, the dense forest expanded in every direction. The trees were unlike any Ember had ever seen, thick-limbed and massive, with leaves so dark they were almost black. They arched over the road like the entrance to a dark citadel. The old, broken bricks of the single-lane road cut through their midst, long since overtaken by patches of underbrush.

    Everyone inside the carriage started as a caw sounded nearby. A raven swooped low over the carriage, fixing its beady black eyes on Ember and Olga. Ember shivered, watching it bank away over the trees.

    ¡°Go on!¡± the leader shouted to the driver. A moment later, the horses began the slow and unsteady march under the first of the trees. The canopy blocked the last rays of the dying sun, and it grew so dark that anyone would have believed the sky to be starless. The air was cool and heavy with humidity. For the first time in hours, Olga lifted her head and raised her nose to the air. ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± she whispered to Ember, her eyes gleaming.

    Close to what? Or whom? Ember wanted to ask, but Olga had already returned to her quiet half-slumber.

    The driver lit another lamp, but the darkness absorbed the light only a few yards away from the body of the stagecoach.  ¡°Can¡¯t they put up some lights?¡± one of the men muttered, fiddling with his dagger.

    ¡°I do not claim to understand the ways of the beasts. Maybe they can see in the dark.¡±

    The driver spurred the horses into a trot. Ember clutched her bag with both hands, watching the treeline with wide eyes. Every few moments, some strange shape would dart across the carriage¡¯s path, just out of reach of the light. The air was alive with the buzzing of insects and the crackling of twigs and leaves, and more than once Ember thought she glimpsed a glowing pair of eyes.

    As they traveled, the forest grew darker and denser still. North, south, east, and west blended together until Ember feared that the path had led them astray. The jolting motion of the carriage and the directionlessness made her head throb dully.

    It was Olga who saw the first firefly. She stirred from the corner and traced it with her finger as it darted around the coach and disappeared into the trees. The men glanced at each other and nodded in grim acknowledgment.

    After the first, the rest came in clusters of five or more, frolicking overtop the carriage lanterns. The animals grew bolder, too: an owl with tufted ears watched them as they passed; squirrels crisscrossed over them on the branches overhead, and long-legged deer bounded up the trail. In the distance, a pack of wolves howled, startling the horses, who no longer needed any encouragement to run as briskly as they could over the uneven ground.

    Soon, a warm glow leaked through the trees, lighting up the path. The driver turned the horses toward the light until the carriage reached a row of gargantuan trees, each one hundreds of yards tall. Their interwoven branches formed an impassible wall that shone from within.

    The horses came to a reluctant halt, and the carriage settled in the dirt. Stationed on either side of the trail were two tall figures, humanoid in shape but shocking to behold. Spiraling from the top of each of their heads was a pair of curved antlers, stretching out at least a foot in either direction. The rest of their faces were concealed by angular, interlocking metal plates that fortified their heads and necks.

    For a moment, everything was still. The guards gripped their staffs and stared down the carriage, making Ember¡¯s captors fidget in their seats.

    Her eyes traced the treeline, looking for some clue therein, and alighted upon another figure. Like the other mature Linnaeans, the being was clearly not human. He sat perched atop a nearby branch, his feather-covered arms tucked to the side like the wings of some great bird. As she watched, his head turned sharply to the side, tilting each way as he considered the new arrivals. Satisfied with what he had seen¡ªor sensed¡ªhe jumped from the branch, gliding down an impossible height and landing in front of the carriage.

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    Ember¡¯s captors jerked backward in their seats, uttering curses, and a foul smell permeated the air. ¡°You may go no further,¡± the bird-man said, his voice hoarse and croak-like. ¡°Linnaeans, come out now!¡±

    Without a moment of hesitation, Olga swung open the door and approached the wall of trees. Ember pulled her bag into her arms and glanced at the men one last time, finding not an iota of compassion in their horrified expressions. With her mouth set in a grim line, she slid across the seats and followed the younger girl. The moment her feet hit the ground, the driver spurred the horses to turn and retreated into the forest.

    The bird-man watched them go and waved his hand for the horned guards to open the gates. With only a whisper of a sound, what had appeared to be a seamless wall of branches opened inwards to reveal the city within.

    Ember¡¯s breath caught in her throat. The City of Mendel pulsed with the light of a million fireflies dancing between the colossal trees. Structures fastened from the forest itself took shape in the distance, a heterogenous combination of the natural and the manmade.

    A group of Linnaeans waited by the entrance with eager expressions. Their mutations represented all a manner of creatures known and unknown, ranging from beautiful to grotesque. They watched wordlessly as the feathered man beckoned Ember and Olga toward him. Up close he was even more uncanny, his skin speckled with midnight-black feathers his limbs bony and bent at strange angles. His dark eyes glistened cleverly, an ageless gaze that made Ember feel off-kilter.

    ¡°Welcome to Mendel,¡± he spoke. His eyes traced the girls, lingering on Olga¡¯s injuries. ¡°I know that you have traveled far and that you have gone through much. Here your persecution will end.¡± He gestured at the city behind him, a ghost of a smile tracing his thin lips. ¡°I am Professor Corax, lead scientist in Mendel and headmaster of the academy¡¯s upper division. It is good to meet you both.¡±

    He clasped Olga and Ember¡¯s hands in turn. ¡°Young one,¡± he said, turning toward Olga, ¡°you will go with our healers.¡± He looked meaningfully at the group, and two middle-aged Linnaeans emerged. They took Olga by the arm and spoke to her softly, leading her away into the city. She looked over her shoulder at Ember once and waved goodbye.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Ember protested, ¡°where are you-¡±

    The professor silenced her with a wave of his hand. ¡°Come. Walk with me.¡±

    Hesitantly, she agreed to join him on the path, and they set off underneath the trees. For a moment, neither spoke, and the babble of the forest city filled the air around them. Ember couldn¡¯t help but stare in wonder. While the outside world had forced nature into submission, Mendel had embraced it. There were no paved streets, only packed dirt trails and rope bridges that snaked in between the trees. Wooden dwellings perched on branches hundreds of feet in the air, and burrows rimmed with stone led to tunnels underneath the ground. Larger buildings loomed in the distance, mostly concealed in the shadows.

    ¡°What will happen to Olga?¡± Ember asked, breaking her gaze from the spectacular city. ¡°She was badly injured by her mutations, and the men in Draycott beat her.¡±

    Corax looked down at Ember, his calm expression growing hooded. ¡°Yes¡­they fear what they do not understand. But she will be happier here.¡±

    Ember lowered her head. ¡°How can you know? She is alone.¡±

    ¡°For her mutations to have progressed so far, she must have been in hiding for years. Now she can live freely.¡±

    ¡°What about her condition? Is she too far¡­ developed?¡±

    The professor shook his head. ¡°Child, there is no shame in being Linnaean. If she were a bird I might be concerned about her dosage, but she is an Ursidae. She is naturally strong.¡±

    ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°A bear,¡± he grinned.

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°With some, it is easy. With others, it is not so.¡±

    With a caw, a large black raven wove between the trees and settled on Corax¡¯s shoulder. It rubbed against him, nestling its head between his neck and ear. By its size alone, Ember recognized it as the bird that had sighted the carriage at the entrance to the forest.

    ¡°Is that your pet?¡± Ember asked, watching it guardedly.

    ¡°Pet? No. She does not belong to me, although sometimes she watches over the forest in my stead. Animals like to gather here. They understand us, just as we understand them.¡±

    Ember was silent for a moment. ¡°Professor¡­ in Ciradyl they told me that my blood turned the serum red, but I feel nothing. I think I may be here by mistake.¡±

    The professor tilted his head up and laughed, a sudden and jarring sound that made the raven flare its wings. ¡°No, my dear. You are as Linnaean as anyone else in Mendel. Some progress more slowly than others, and some species prefer to conceal their changes. We will see soon enough.¡±

    Ember took a deep breath, reveling in the freshness of the forest air, and found that she could accept Corax¡¯s words. She would trust him¡ªprovisionally¡ªuntil her situation became less precarious. ¡°Where will I go?¡± she asked. ¡°I have nothing: no family and no money.¡±

    The professor considered her thoughtfully. ¡°What you do now is up to you. You can work in the city or stay in one of our community halls while you receive treatment. But I suggest that you enroll in the upper division of the academy. It is a four-year program that will be an opportunity to further your studies and learn more about your identity.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ember consented. ¡°How do I apply?¡±

    ¡°Come with me,¡± Corax replied, and she could tell that he was pleased by her answer. ¡°Tonight you will stay in the unaffiliated dorms.¡±

 4: A Bothersome Bottlenose & A Friendly Fox

    Ember awoke at the crack of dawn to the chattering of an unfamiliar animal. She sat up on the small dorm mattress, rubbing her head. Her first thought was of her father, and then the memories of the previous night came back steadily, each one more unbelievable than the last. A wave of panic washed over her, making her hands tremble against the sheets. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

    She stared at a spot on the wall until she could breathe again. The night before, the headmaster had dropped her off at the unaffiliated dorms after insisting that she have her own room. She¡¯d fallen asleep instantly, curling around her bag for comfort.

    For the first time, Ember took a good look at the dorm room in the light. Like the rest of Mendel, it was utterly foreign: the floors were soil, the windows were cracked open, and the wooden panels of the walls were supported by the trunks of living trees and covered with crawling vines. A large green beetle scuttled up the wall, pausing to investigate a patch of lichen. Ember sighed¡ªher new living arrangements were going to take some getting used to.

    A soft knock sounded at her door. She slid off the bed slowly, fearing more bad news, and slid back the bolt.

    Standing in the doorway with his fist poised to knock again was a young man about her age. He was her height except for two large, furry ears that sprouted from his shock of red hair. A bushy, white-tipped tail swished behind him. He grinned good-naturedly, displaying a set of long and thin canines. ¡°Hello.¡±

    ¡°Hi¡­¡± Ember said, looking at him cautiously. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Carn. I live on the third floor,¡± he pointed. He pushed a pile of clean sheets and blankets into her hands. ¡°I¡¯m here to help you get settled in. Do you have any clothes?¡±

    ¡°¡­Yes, I brought some from home.¡±

    ¡°Great, then I can show you where you can clean off!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± Ember said awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯ll just stay in my room.¡±

    Carn tilted his head, and Ember was reminded of a farm dog. ¡°No offense, but you stink.¡±

    Her face reddened. ¡°Fine!¡±

    Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Ember followed Carn out of her room and into the dorm hallway. He padded silently over the soil and leaves, making Ember¡¯s footsteps sound terribly loud in comparison. He wore no shoes, and his entire manner of dress was different than that of Ciradyl: instead of a tight, ill-fitting uniform, he wore flowy and muted linens that allowed space for his mutations.

    Unable to bring herself to speak, Ember focused on his tail, which swayed back and forth as he walked. It was a quiet and still morning, and only a few Linnaeans wandered through the halls, some keeping their heads down and others whispering good morning to Carn. Unlike in the city proper, most of them had few, if any, visible mutations.

    ¡°Carn?¡± she asked quietly, ¡°How are the students divided?¡±

    He grinned again, seeming genuinely delighted that she had spoken. ¡°The UD¡ªupper division, also known as the university¡ªhas eight dorms, one for each of the seven classes: vermes, insecta, pisces, amphibia, aves, mammalia, reptilia, and the unaffiliated.¡±

    ¡°Vermes¡­.¡± Ember trailed off, trying to remember what she had learned at Wentworth. ¡°Worms, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. It¡¯s one of the classes that is becoming defunct as Professor Corax and his researchers discover new species. Reptilia is also a new addition.¡±

    She looked at Carn curiously. ¡°You said you lived here, right? But you¡¯re clearly some type of mammal.¡±

    ¡°A red fox, to be exact,¡± Carn affirmed. ¡°I¡¯m on my way out. The mammalia dorms are really big, and there¡¯s a separate section for felines and canines. We couldn¡¯t tell which one I was for a while.¡±

    As Carn spoke, Ember couldn¡¯t help but watch his sizable canines, which tucked nicely over his jaw and only just poked out from underneath his upper lip. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to bring it up, but your mutations are so tidy. I traveled here with a¡­ bear, I suppose, and her teeth cut through her mouth.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°I¡¯m lucky. I came here early in my development, like you, and they gave me a low dose to slow down my mutations. When our bodies have enough time, they can adjust to the changes. They also gave me a retainer.¡± He opened his mouth, pointing at a wire that wrapped around his canines to keep them in place. ¡°But still¡­ I have a lot of fur in uncomfortable places.¡±

    Ember¡¯s mouth dropped open at his crudeness. ¡°When will I start the treatment?¡± she asked, redirecting the conversation to safer territory.

    ¡°You should meet with the registrar secretary soon, preferably today, and he¡¯ll assign you to an advisor. But don¡¯t worry, mutations don¡¯t happen overnight.¡± He paused in front of a door. ¡°All right, here are the bathing pools. It was nice to meet you, Ember. I¡¯ll come and find you later.¡±

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    He waved good-naturedly, disappearing around a corner before Ember could gather her thoughts. She shook her head and pulled open the door, immediately hit by a warm blast of humid air. Dubiously, she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the bathhouse.

    It was a long and low room, situated lower in the ground than the dorms. The ceiling was comprised of interlocking wooden pieces, and Ember realized after a moment that she was inside the root system of one of the giant trees.

    Clear spring water bubbled at her feet and stretched forward for at least thirty feet, shallow at the ends and deeper in the center. She pulled off her boots and stepped gingerly onto the first stone step, scaring up a small group of minnows. Her reflection wavered on the surface of the water, a haggard version of herself with tired green eyes and matted brown hair.

    After double-checking that no one was around, Ember stripped off her travel-stained clothes and settled into the warm water. It washed luxuriously over her skin, easing her sore muscles and bruises. She exhaled, closing her eyes.

    She was on the verge of a nap when the calm shattered. Something exploded from the water, dousing her head and shoulders. Ember leaped backward, pushing herself against the stone and holding out her hands to ward off the danger.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± a woman exclaimed. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize anyone else was here!¡±

    Ember crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. The woman appeared to be around her age, but patches of a grey and rubbery substance that coated her skin made it difficult to be sure. She was small in stature and completely bald, with an elongated jaw and tiny teeth. Unbelievably, she¡¯d been underwater for at least ten minutes.

    Still watching the woman, Ember lowered herself back into the water. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s my first time here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nice, isn¡¯t it? Eases the itch.¡±

    Ember nodded vaguely, unsure of what itch she was referring to. She averted her gaze slightly, staring at a patch of darker stone and planning her escape.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to stare,¡± the woman commented. ¡°I know it¡¯s unusual to see a Linnaean like me.¡±

    ¡°Erm¡­ I haven¡¯t seen many Linnaeans at all.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably thinking that I should be in the pisces dorm, but the headmaster suspects I might be some sort of aquatic mammal on account of me not having gills. So I¡¯m waiting to be transferred.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Ember said, shifting backward. She found the woman¡¯s voice annoyingly shrill and grating, like the sound of glass being scratched by a sharp metal object.

    ¡°Have you seen-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m actually just finishing up here,¡± Ember cut in, rushing out of the pool and pulling on a set of fresh clothes from her backpack. ¡°I¡¯ll see you around.¡±

    Ignoring the woman¡¯s protests, she pushed back through the curtain and the door, reentering the hallway without even drying herself off. Linnaeans are so¡­ odd, she observed, they each have a unique way of making you feel uncomfortable.

    Still, Carn had been right¡ªshe did feel fresher, now, and more prepared to take on whatever the city might throw at her. She remembered what he had said about the secretary and tied up her wet hair, strengthening her resolve: it was time to go onto campus.

    ***

    ¡°Name?¡± the secretary asked, looking at Ember with bright orange eyes. His long, black and white banded tail draped over the desk¡ªwhich appeared to be a particularly large mushroom¡ªand onto the floor next to Ember¡¯s boots.

    ¡°Ember Whitlock, sir.¡±

    ¡°Age?¡±

    ¡°Eighteen.¡±

    ¡°Species?¡±

    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± she paused. ¡°Unknown?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay.¡± He set down his notepad, his long and thin fingers drumming on the desk. ¡°Why don¡¯t I register you for some general education courses? Biology, history, and habitat analysis?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Ember replied. She¡¯d taken similar classes at Wentworth, but she had a feeling things would be very different in Mendel.

    ¡°Great. That leaves room for one elective.¡±

    Ember stared at him blankly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°Mhm. It will have to be something non-species-specific. Registration closed yesterday, so space is limited, but there are some classes that still have a slot: campus management, moss gathering, plant architecture, and intro to terrestrial combat, to name a few.¡±

    ¡°Campus management sounds okay,¡± Ember said, struggling to follow his words. ¡°When will I be matched with an advisor?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll assign you to Professor Bloomberg, but there¡¯s no need to meet until you start developing symptoms, or until mid-term, whichever comes first. I¡¯ll save you from the start-of-term rush and have someone from the unaffiliated dorm deliver your materials. Here¡¯s a copy of your schedule, and some campus resources in case you need any help. The semester starts in one week.¡± He pushed a page of his notebook and a leaflet across the table, bearing his teeth in a wide smile. ¡°Good luck, Ember.¡±

    Reeling from all of the new information, Ember ducked out of the registration office and onto the wide path. Ahead was the campus proper, a sprawling miniature city that encompassed the underground, the surface, and the airspace. It was relatively quiet since it was still early in the morning, with only a handful of students out exercising.

    Like the rest of Mendel, the campus thrummed with animal life, and a handful of curious squirrels and gliders approached her as she trekked up the main pathway. No building was quite alike, each built to the preference of different species. There were heavy stone halls; mud dens built high in the air, accessible only by wing; wide nests strung between branches; mounds of dirt and clay with tiny openings; orbs woven from silky thread, and all a manner of other peculiarities.

    Ember had the sense that she wouldn¡¯t be able to see it all even in four years of study. All of Ciradyl¡¯s ¡®innovation¡¯ that stained the sky black paled in comparison.

    Maybe this is what it means to be Linnaean¡­ I wish my father could see this.

    For the first time, Ember thought that it might not be so bad if she were afflicted after all.

 5: Bloodlust

    Ember pushed through the double doors to the mess hall, grabbing a wooden tray and joining the line for the buffet. The hall was low in the ground and cavernous, with tables and seats carved from the roots of the trees above. Even though she¡¯d come before the breakfast rush, it was already crowded with students who wanted an early start to their Saturday.

    Linnaeans jostled past her as she filled her plate with greens and strips of dried meat. She held the tray close to her chest and turned on her heel, fully intending to take the food back to her room as she had done for the past three days.

    ¡°Ember?¡± someone called, and she turned¡ªreluctantly¡ªto see Carn waving frantically from halfway across the hall. She glanced behind her, but there wasn¡¯t enough time to disappear back into the crowd.

    Carn hurried up to her, smiling broadly. ¡°This is my friend, Naz,¡± he said, gesturing at a small woman who had been hidden partway behind him. Ember¡¯s eyes widened, her escape plan forgotten; Naz was stunningly beautiful, with a rounded face and delicate features. Every inch of her exposed skin shimmered with white and black scales arranged in intricate swirling patterns, and sprouting from her limbs were fan-like structures that waved gently with the airflow.

    She smiled shyly at Ember and reached out to shake hands. ¡°We¡¯re going rafting today on the Lion¡¯s Tail,¡± Carn added. ¡°Naz loves to swim. Why don¡¯t you come with us?¡±

    Ember opened her mouth, ready to decline out of habit, but both Naz and Carn¡¯s hopeful expressions were too much to bear. ¡°Okay¡­¡± she consented. ¡°What time?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll let you finish your meal, and we¡¯ll pick you up in about an hour,¡± he grinned.

    ***

    Ember was having second thoughts as she reached one leg onto the bamboo raft. It bobbed precariously, threatening to dislodge Carn, who was already at the helm. ¡°You¡¯ve got to go for it!¡± he shouted, holding his arms out sideways like a circus performer. Ember swallowed, propelling herself onto the back of the raft and landing on her knees. It sunk deeper into the water but held steady. A moment after, Naz leaped gracefully to the center, her fins flaring outwards to help her stay balanced.

    Looking relieved, Carn fished a long pole from the riverbank and pushed the raft out into deeper water. The river was beautifully serene: crystal clear, and shallow enough to see the bottom. Tiny creatures darted in and out of aquatic weeds that trailed in the direction of the currents. Above, tree branches crisscrossed over the water, making it seem as though the raft was tunneling underneath the canopy.

    Ember found herself relaxing as they settled into a gentle drift. Carn steered the raft as Naz flitted back and forth, leaning over the side and letting her fins drag through the water. The stretch of river was quiet, with only a few other Linnaeans rafting or canoeing. A few turtles sunned themselves on the bank, and Ember¡¯s heart nearly stopped when an alligator as large as a small tree floated past them without a sound. She gasped, but Carn just steered them away and Naz withdrew her hand from the water, relatively unphased.

    To Ember¡¯s surprise, the usually rambunctious Carn was calm and still, only offering a few words when they passed a landmark of interest. Naz asked Ember a couple of questions, through which Ember discovered they were all in their first year, although both Carn and Naz had taken summer classes. After that, the three fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

    The sound of a gurgling roar preceded the rapids. Carn warned them to crouch down and hold onto the raft, and they catapulted into the mess of rushing water and river rocks. Ember yelped as the raft shook and tilted, dislodging one of the bamboo supports. They rebounded off of the bank, rotating backward and sideways until her head spun. Carn shouted in amusement, grabbing Naz with one arm to keep her from falling into the churning water.

    Ember squeezed her eyes shut, saying a quick prayer. Why did I agree to this?!

    Just as she thought the shaking would make her teeth fall from her skull, the rapids ended as suddenly as they had started. The raft floated slowly around a bend and she breathed a sigh of relief, wringing out her soaked ponytail and collapsing onto her butt.

    ¡°Ember, look,¡± Naz said softly, pointing past the bow. Ahead, the river opened into a large pool, protected at the entrance by a rope net. On the opposite shore was a small beach, occupied by a dozen Linnaeans sunbathing and playing a game of ball. Their shouts wafted over the water, breathing life and excitement into the otherwise tranquil scene. Others swam or laid in hammocks strung between the trees, napping or reading cloth-wrapped books.

    Carn guided the raft over the net and they floated to shallower water near the beach. As soon as the rocky bottom was visible, Naz hummed with excitement and slipped off the raft. Ember rushed to the edge to watch as her scales glittered and her fan-like fins opened, propelling her through the water as naturally as a bird through the air. Tiny gill slits opened a few inches below her ears, pulsing as she danced around the raft.

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    ¡°What is she?¡± Ember asked softly.

    ¡°A pisces. Some type of loach,¡± Carn replied with admiration. ¡°She¡¯s lived in Mendel since she was a child.¡± Grinning, he pulled off his shirt and jumped into the water with a heavy splash. Ember couldn¡¯t help but laugh as his head popped out a moment later, his ears sopping wet. Ember rolled up her pants and let her legs drag in the water as she watched them play. Carn doggy-paddled around the raft, chasing Naz in circles¡ªhopelessly¡ªalthough she eventually gave in and let him tag her. He grew tired soon after and waded to the riverbank, where he joined a group of young men using a rope swing to flip into the water.

    Naz dove down, catching minnows and crawfish in her hands to show to Ember. After a little convincing, Ember went on a short swim around the raft but returned soon after, stunned by the cold and wary of the lake fish. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a pisces,¡± Naz teased, and Ember wholeheartedly agreed.

    They settled with their elbows on the raft, chatting casually, when a scream came from the beach. It split the air, terrible and all-consuming, and Ember¡¯s heart jumped into her throat. Bounding  toward them was a woman with giant ears and a sloped snout. Her wide eyes were filled with a terror so acute, so overwhelming, that it made Ember tremble. Behind her, running in full stride, was a wolf-man covered in thick grey fur, his lips drawn back and his head lowered, locked onto his prey with every fiber of his being.

    Ember jumped off the raft and swam to shallower water, keeping her gaze trained on the shore. Naz surfaced by her side and took her arm, her whole body trembling. ¡°Bloodlust¡­¡± she whispered.

    The wolf-man dove at the woman, locking his jaws around her back leg and eliciting another horrible scream. A couple of brave Linnaeans jumped on the pair, trying to break them apart, but their punches and kicks slid off of his hide uselessly. Beneath them, Ember could see the blood as it spilled from the wolf-man¡¯s canines and stained the sand.

    After a moment of hesitation, Ember ran to the beach, leaving Naz behind. She tried to push through the mess of jostling bodies but was flung back, powerless against the chaos of the multitude. Then, suddenly, a shape brushed past her, his ginger tail whipping through the air behind him as he threw himself between the man and the woman. It was Carn, but his kind face transformed as his ears flattened against his head and he snarled. He sunk his teeth into the back of the man¡¯s neck, adding his strength to the others and ripping him off of his prey.

    Together, the Linnaeans scrambled to pin the wolf-man. He writhed, froth spilling from his bloody maw, and nearly dislodged them all. His eyes, orange and bloodshot, were wild and uncomprehending. Ember rushed forward and wrenched his left arm into the sand, turning her face away from his snapping jaws.

    It was Carn who finally forced the wolf-man into submission. His knife-like canines bit into the skin of the man¡¯s neck and he stilled, wheezing, then collapsed onto the sand as the breath left his lungs and he fell unconscious. The others hurried forward, wrapping the woman¡¯s leg in a makeshift cloth binding and reassuring her as she cried. One of her long legs was mangled and gushing blood, shot through with yellow and white where fat and bone were exposed.

    Ember turned, her stomach churning, and caught sight of Carn a few yards away. He was frozen in place, his head lowered and his patches of fur all standing on end. She neared slowly, watching as his chest rose and fell at a desperate pace. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened with that man, but you-¡±

    Carn flinched away and met her eyes, cutting her off. With his lips drawn back and his canines dripping in blood, he was terrifying to behold. Ember recoiled, her hand hanging uselessly in the air and her face twisted with shock.

    ¡°What?¡± he spat, blood spraying over his bare chest and onto the sand. ¡°Did you think mutations were just for show?¡±

    ¡°I was just trying to-¡±

    ¡°Carn, calm down,¡± Naz injected, appearing behind Ember. ¡°You did the right thing.¡±

    Obediently, he shut his mouth and took a deep breath, a shudder running down his body.  ¡°I need to be alone for a minute.¡±

    Ember and Naz retreated as he sat down on the sand, head in his hands. ¡°He¡¯s right, you know,¡± Naz said. ¡°I saw your look; you were horrified by him.¡±

    ¡°He was¡­ wild. Feral.¡±

    ¡°What you saw¡ªthat side of him¡ªis just as legitimate as anything else. He is as much an animal as he is a human. Without him, that rabbit might have died.¡±

    Ember took a deep breath and tried to understand. ¡°What about the wolf? He tried to eat someone. Could that happen to any of us?¡±

    Naz¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°No. That was bloodlust, and he brought it upon himself.¡± Ember wanted to press, but Naz had gone silent, her big eyes fixed on Carn. A moment later, a horn blasted as a group of Linnaeans in uniform broke through the small crowd, loading the victim onto a stretcher and pulling the wolf-man to his feet.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go talk to Carn,¡± Naz said.

    ¡°He¡¯s not mad at me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s just embarrassed,¡± she said, gripping Ember¡¯s arm and pulling her gently along.

    An unexpected lump formed in Ember''s throat, and she realized that at some point during their trip, she had become fond of the strange pair. As Carn looked up at them and grinned half-heartedly, her shoulders sagged with relief.

    If I¡¯m going to live in Mendel, maybe I don¡¯t want to be completely alone.

 6: Freshman Orientation

    ¡°Are you going to the match next Saturday?¡± Carn asked, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd.

    ¡°What match?¡±

    He looked at Ember incredulously. ¡°The division one sparring tournament! The season starts next week.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the most popular sport in Mendel,¡± Naz added. ¡°Everyone goes, and the champions join the Apex Association and earn the title of master. It¡¯s very elite.¡±

    Ember shrugged. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll go.¡± She settled against the back of the seat, letting the two talk over her. It was growing louder as more Linaeans poured into the already packed hippodrome, forming a crowd of at least six hundred strong. The stadium was the only area in the city that had been cleared of all but the tallest trees, leaving a field with a temporary stage in the center. Its stone walls were marred with scorches and gouges, evidence of some unknown battle or natural disaster.

    The orientation had attracted the largest assortment of students that Ember had ever seen. Unlike the older Linnaeans, the freshmen exhibited all of the awkward in-between stages of development: two pairs of ears; bandaged scalps with horns beginning to break through; one foot and one hoof, or malformed wings.

    As she listened, Ember caught the word ¡®bloodlust¡¯ more than once, as if the barely-healed cuts on Carn¡¯s arms weren¡¯t enough of a reminder. If the rumors were to be believed, the wolf-man had been a student and was expelled before the semester even started. Still, remembering his inhuman eyes, Ember doubted that he could have ever been human.

    Before she could speculate further, a group of Linnaeans took the stage with Professor Corax at its head. He called for quiet, his gravelly voice naturally amplified by the walls of the drome, and spread his feathered arms. ¡°Welcome, freshmen, to the University of Mendel. Being accepted to university is no easy feat even for non-Linnaeans, yet all of you have managed it. You have my congratulations.¡± He paused, clasping his hands in front of him. ¡°I hope that each and every one of you will find a home here. You have been called pests and beasts; you have been beaten and shunned. Why? Because the others fear us. And maybe they should.¡±

    The students shouted with approval, and Corax had to wait a full minute for them to calm again. ¡°That said, I must implore you to respect our treaty with the non-Linnaeans. Do not wander past Mendel¡¯s borders unless you have been given permission by myself or the city¡¯s administration. For the time being, our domain stops at the edge of the forest. This is for your safety.¡±

    Ember glanced around, wondering if anyone had family outside of Mendel, but none of the students seemed to object to the headmaster¡¯s guidelines. ¡°This year, like in years past,¡± he continued, ¡°I am pleased to accept you all on scholarship. I simply ask that you donate your time and effort to the university, and meet the minimum requirements to remain in the program. This will not prove to be easy, but I have faith in your perseverance.

    ¡°The upper division has many amenities and resources to be used at your convenience: dining halls, tutoring, two infirmaries, athletic teams, and various student-run clubs. You may also find yourself seeking recreation at the Lion¡¯s Tail River, the Saline Lake, the aviary, the conservatory, the subterranea, or here at the hippodrome. I simply ask that you remain alert, especially at night, because Mendel is not as tame as the cities of the north.¡±

    Ember shifted in her seat as she took note of the second warning. How many accidents happen each year for the headmaster to take such caution?

    ¡°That said,¡± Corax resumed, ¡°I know you will all succeed in your next four years here. Many of you will go on to enroll in our graduate school or even join my research team. I also suspect that the coming years will be our most innovative yet.¡±

    Smiling, he called up some of the other Linnaeans on the platform, who spoke of matters of security and gave testaments to the university¡¯s merits. Ember paid only partial attention, instead focusing on what wasn¡¯t being addressed: the looming threat of the outside world and the death by mutation that she had been led to believe was all too common.

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    She tuned back in as the professor took center stage again. ¡°Before I release you,¡± he said, ¡°I must bring up an incident that transpired yesterday. One of our students, a grey wolf, went into bloodlust and severely injured his victim. Luckily, she will survive, but she has been irreparably traumatized.¡±

    The crowd was quiet enough for the sound of cicadas to be heard in the background. ¡°How and why did this happen? I ask myself the same thing. We have spent years refining our medications so that bloodlust is extremely rare among our population. But, still, each year students are tempted to reduce their prescribed dose or forego it entirely. Why? Because they hope to grow thicker fur, improve their eyesight, or otherwise speed up the onset of their mutations.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Please, resist the urge to modify your treatment in any way. You might grow stronger faster, but you might also undo years of progress and maim or kill the ones closest to you. Even if you believe that you have no natural predators or prey, resist! This I beg of you.¡±

    Ember glanced at Carn, shocked. ¡°Is that true?¡± she whispered. ¡°Do students really go off the treatment?¡±

    ¡°All the time. It¡¯s more common than you would imagine,¡± he said grimly. ¡°It¡¯s especially common in the mammalia and aves dorms.¡±

    Ember grimaced, hoping that she wasn¡¯t a minnow, mouse, or some other common prey animal. She had hardly accepted that she was Linnaean, and now she had to worry about one of her peers hunting her.

    If I do have a predator, I hope I never meet them.

    ***

    ¡°Welcome to Introductory Campus Management,¡± the professor said, his throat ballooning outwards. ¡°I¡¯m Doctor Hickory, an environmental analytics specialist and part of Corax¡¯s post-graduate research team. I¨C¡± croak ¡°¨Clook forward to working with each and every one of you unique individuals.¡±

    Ember fidgeted slightly, almost sliding off of the tree root that served as a bench for her row. The student next to her stifled a snicker. The way the professor was standing, with his hands on his stout hips and his stomach pooched outwards, made him resemble a perfect circle. Combined with the whimsical setting of the tree hollow, he looked like a character out of a children¡¯s book.

    Hickory turned a large, knowing eye on the classroom, and the students stiffened. ¡°You¡¯re laughing now¨C¡± croak ¡°¨Cbut you won¡¯t be laughing during the final!¡±

    A student raised a tentative hand. ¡°What will the final be on?¡±

    ¡°Getting ahead of ourselves, are we? Well, like all exams in this class, the final will be a practical examination. Actually, let¡¯s have everyone stand up.¡±

    Papers rustled as the students murmured among themselves. ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Hickory guffawed. ¡°Come on! Leave your bags behind.¡±

    The class hurried off of their perches, filing out of the hollow with the professor in the lead. Ember hung at the back, exchanging a bemused look with a girl next to her. ¡°I thought syllabus week was supposed to be an introduction. Where¡¯s he taking us?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea. I heard he was quite the character, but I didn¡¯t expect this. At least it explains why the class takes up three blocks. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Ember. You?¡±

    ¡°Morgan,¡± she replied, shaking Ember¡¯s hand. They exchanged a few more words as the class crossed to the far side of campus, stopping when a tributary of the Lion¡¯s Tail River cut across their path.

    ¡°Well?¡± Hickory said, looking at them expectantly. ¡°Go ahead and cross.¡±

    The students looked at each other uneasily. The stretch of river was particularly wide and wild, with white froth spraying off of its rocks. ¡°Is there a bridge further up?¡± a young man asked.

    The professor shrugged. ¡°At the university, we interact with our campus in many ways. What would you do if you were a habitat researcher, hoping to see some rare phenomenon? Or a maintenance specialist, tasked with fixing some imbalance when time is of the essence?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± a woman said. She was petite and wide-eyed, with fine grey fur and two tiny ears. With a determined look on her face, she gripped one of the trees and began to climb, taking small but quick steps. When she had reached a height of about twenty-five feet, she looked back over the river, seeming to contemplate something.

    Then, suddenly, she flung herself from the tree. A flap of skin connected to each of her wrists and ankles opened up with a snap, and she glided haphazardly across the waterway. She fell short at the last moment but managed to grab hold of a tree branch, allowing her to heft herself onto the river bank. She turned back toward the shore, soaking wet but looking proud of herself. The other students cheered in admiration.

    ¡°Good work!¡± Professor Hickory shouted. ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±

 7: Professor Hickorys Challenge

    A male student, obviously an upperclassman, was the next volunteer to attempt the crossing. He walked a couple of yards down the trail and grabbed hold of a massive log, rolling it sideways so that was parallel with the river. Then, with a great heave, he turned the log across the waterway, creating a makeshift bridge. The other students shouted their approval as he trudged across, breaking into a run as the wood groaned under his weight.

    ¡°That¡¯s Chaz, a gorilla,¡± Morgan whispered. ¡°He made it through division two and challenged one of the match champions last year, but he lost.¡± Ember¡¯s eyebrows shot up¡ªshe couldn¡¯t imagine someone so strong losing to anyone, or the school condoning a fight where the opponent could end up with his skull crushed.

    A few agile students took advantage of Chaz¡¯s work and darted across the log. It slumped lower before cracking in the middle and giving way completely, hitting the rocks with a wet thwack and quickly being swept down the river.

    Next, two pisces and one armored insect took a more direct route, struggling across the river itself by swimming in short bursts and grabbing the rocks for support. All three made it to the opposite bank, where Chaz and the flying squirrel hauled them up onto dry land. They lay there, panting and drenched, with torn clothes and an array of shallow cuts speckling their skin.

    Hickory congratulated the triumphant students, seemingly unfazed by their minor injuries. Then, he turned and looked expectantly at the others. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, and Ember found herself shuffling out of his field of vision. ¡°Well?¡± he asked.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t fair!¡± a female student exclaimed, approaching Hickory with her hands on her hips. ¡°You can¡¯t actually expect us to do this on the first day. My advisor didn¡¯t say anything about crossing river rapids!¡±

    One corner of Hickory¡¯s wide mouth twitched. ¡°Let me remind you that this is an elective. If you can¡¯t take this challenge-¡± croak ¡°-you can still drop this class or swap it for Analysis of Environmental Data, which offers a more written approach. But I do guarantee that if you stick with this class, you will be more prepared for the rest of your four years at the university and for your life as a Linnaean.¡±

    Looking annoyed, the girl turned on her heel and stormed back up the campus walkway, taking a few other students with her. As Hickory watched them go, Ember swore he looked pleased with himself. She glanced at Morgan, not wanting to give up but unsure of how to proceed. Other than the dark scales covering her shoulders and forehead, the other girl had no visible mutations, and certainly nothing that could help them cross the river.

    Emboldened¡ªor perhaps intimidated¡ªby the professor¡¯s speech, a handful of students made their attempts. Two were successful, and three had to be hauled out of the water by Hickory, but each one received a shouted congratulations or a pat on the back.

    Soon, the class was dwindling in size, with at least half the students on the opposite shore. As Ember scoured the site, growing desperate, she remembered something she¡¯d seen on her first days on campus: a network of insect tunnels, expanding outwards from a cone-shaped mound.

    Operating on guesswork alone, she took Morgan by the arm and pulled her behind the trees. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Morgan whispered as they ran parallel to the river.

    ¡°Look for some sort of entrance! An opening or a hatch.¡±

    She nodded, catching on, and together they searched for anything that might lead underground. They could hear Hickory¡¯s exclamations behind them, a reminder that they¡¯d be left behind if they didn¡¯t hurry.

    Ember skidded to a stop. One of her footsteps had rang louder than the others, a hollow thwack instead of the usual thump muffled by the forest floor. She retraced her steps, finding a spot where the spongy ground was hard and unyielding. Together, the women brushed leaves from the surface, revealing a small wooden door.

    Ember only hesitated for a moment before prying open the latch and lowering herself into the tunnel below. Morgan followed, leaving the door open so that some light would filter through the opening.

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    Their feet sunk into the moisture-soaked earth as they padded forward. The tunnel ran steeply downward, eventually leveling off when the darkness grew too thick for Ember to see even a few feet ahead. Still, they pressed on, dragging their hands against the clay and stone walls to keep their bearings.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯re past the river?¡± Morgan asked softly. Ember said nothing, her mouth stuck shut from the pressure of the hundreds of thousands of gallons of water overhead. She stepped forward again, only to realize that the tunnel branched off in both directions, each one equally dark.

    ¡°You need help?¡± a low voice asked. Ember yelped, whipping around to sense¡ªrather than see¡ªa hunched figure no more than a foot away.

    Something shuffled in the darkness, and a moment later a flame flickered into existence, illuminating a ghastly creature with compound eyes and wriggling antennae.

    Morgan let out a yelp and stumbled backward as Ember¡¯s mouth dropped open in horror.

    The creature made a calming gesture with its hands. ¡°...Linnaean,¡± it rasped, its mandibles clicking together with a jarring snap.

    Ember stuttered something incomprehensible. It wasn¡¯t just that the creature had some features of an insect¡ªits entire head was that of a massive ant¡¯s, hairy and distended like a poorly sewn doll. The rest of its body appeared human, although the dim light made it impossible to be certain.

    ¡°Linnaean,¡± it repeated, taking a few steps away from Ember.

    When it didn¡¯t attack, she managed to take a choking breath. ¡°Y-you¡¯re Linnaean?¡±

    The creature nodded and gestured to the ground, where a bucket sat full of maintenance and janitorial supplies. ¡°Fixing.¡±

    Ember slumped against the tunnel wall. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. You work at the university.¡±

    It nodded again. ¡°Frog¡­ making you cross again?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Do you know which path we should take?¡±

    ¡°Left. Door coming soon.¡± It thrust out the lantern. ¡°You take. I can see in the dark.¡±

    Ember thanked the insect-person profusely, grabbing the lantern with one hand and Morgan with the other. They trudged up the left tunnel, and as promised the door soon appeared overhead.

    Both girls staggered as they emerged into the fresh air and sunlight. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry,¡± Ember said, pointing down the river where Hickory¡¯s voice could just barely be heard. They took off at a run, joining the successful group with their skin blackened with dirt and their breath coming in gasps.

    ¡°I feel like half my life¡¯s been spent underground,¡± Morgan said, bending over with her hands on her knees. Their classmates thumped them on the back, offering their compliments and asking where they¡¯d come from.

    ¡°Two more!¡± Hickory yelled from across the water. ¡°Very good! That concludes our first challenge.¡± He turned and said something to the three unsuccessful students who remained at his side, and they nodded, but his words were lost to the roar of the river.

    To Ember¡¯s absolute shock, the professor gathered all three students in his arms, waddled to the edge of the water, and sprung upwards like a coiled spring. His stubby back legs unfurled to one and a half times his body length, propelling him easily across the water. The students yelped and clung to his arms, but he landed carefully only a moment later, depositing them on the opposite shore.

    ¡°Well then,¡± he said, brushing it off as though nothing had happened. The class looked at him agape, and even Chaz looked impressed. Ember found herself running calculations in her head: he must have lifted three times his body weight and jumped at least ten times his body length! How is such a thing possible?

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk-¡± croak ¡°-about this challenge. I am most impressed, and each of you who attempted or successfully completed the crossing will receive full credit. Those who quit will, of course, receive nothing.¡± The students looked around at each other, smiling, and even those who had hesitated looked happy to be acknowledged by Hickory. ¡°Some of you used your mutations to cross: whether it be increased strength, agility, or a new skill entirely. Others took advantage of Chaz¡¯s tree bridge while it still stood, and although this is valid, I encourage you to consider what you had done if the bridge had not been available.¡±

    ¡°Finally,¡± he continued, turning his big eyes on Ember and Morgan, ¡°I must recognize these two young women. Judging by their state of dress and their traumatized expressions, I am going to guess that they used the tunnels instead of risking the water. This strategy is worthy of praise, perhaps above the others. Although I might be wrong, both of them seem early in their development-¡± Ember and Morgan nodded in confirmation ¡°-and this would have put them at a disadvantage. Moreover, even the most impressive mutations¡ªlike my own¡ªcan be utterly useless in some scenarios. When I encounter saltwater, for example, I must wear a special suit or my skin becomes so dry that I require immediate resuscitation.

    ¡°All of this is to say that it is important to use your logic above all else. For many of us, the difference between the Linnaean and his source species is the ability to use advanced reasoning. Don¡¯t forfeit this ability because your mutations make you strong or quick.¡±

    The students nodded, and it was clear that Hickory¡¯s lesson had resonated with many of them. ¡°Come now,¡± he croaked, gesturing further into the forest, ¡°I still have more to show you.¡±

 8: An Imbalanced Diet

    Ember poked at her salad with a fork, looking across the table at Carn and Naz. ¡°I¡¯m enjoying it all so far. Campus management is very unique, but the professors for biology, history, and habitat analysis take a more traditional approach. I¡¯m not sure which I prefer yet.¡±

    ¡°The classes you¡¯re most comfortable with probably won¡¯t be the best for you,¡± Carn pointed out. ¡°I hated my elective during the summer, Estuary Exploration, but it¡¯s where I met Naz. Now we¡¯re best friends.¡±

    He elbowed her in the side, and she rolled her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s right, for once. Even I¡¯m taking my first combat course this semester.¡±

    Ember blinked in surprise. She would never have expected Naz, the most gentle Linnaean she knew, to study fighting. ¡°Combat? Like they do in the tournaments?¡±

    ¡°Hell no. My class is based on self-defense. You have to take at least one martial arts course to graduate. It¡¯s been required since Corax became headmaster.¡±

    Ember tilted her head. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, in Ciradyl, fighting is a soldier or guard¡¯s job. It¡¯s considered improper for a scholar to train in combat.¡±

    ¡°As you¡¯ve seen, Mendel is a lot more dangerous than Ciradyl,¡± Carn cut in. ¡°But I think Corax was looking toward the future.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Carn and Naz exchanged a look. ¡°The treaty between Mendel and the mainland is shaky at best.¡±

    ¡°The mainland?¡± Ember asked, recognizing the term from the freshmen orientation. In her studies at Wentworth, the city-states had always been referred to separately.

    With her finger, Naz drew the rough shape of a landmass in the air. ¡°It¡¯s our term for the body of the continent, which contains the thirteen city-states. The states trade often, but Mendel is almost completely isolated at the top of the southern peninsula.¡±

    Carn nodded. ¡°The reason they haven¡¯t attacked us yet is that they¡¯re afraid of our strength and because they think we¡¯ll infect them. It was only¡­ what, one hundred years ago that they stopped killing us on sight?¡±

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Ember asked, leaning across the table. ¡°The city-states killed Linneans on sight? I thought they all passed away until the treatment was discovered.¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± Naz shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s true that some Linnaeans died of their mutations in the early days, and it was just as horrible as the stories say. But most were executed as soon as anything irregular was identified by their doctors, their teachers, or even their family. It wasn¡¯t until a group of Linnaeans fled into the forest and built Mendel in secret that our people grew in numbers. Once we were strong enough, we confronted the mainland and negotiated the treaty so that all new Linnaeans would be delivered here. It was especially difficult since each city-state has its own government.¡±

    Ember¡¯s heart thumped harshly in her chest. She knew how much the outside world hated Linnaeans, so why hadn¡¯t she considered the possibility of the history she knew being wrong? After all, it hadn¡¯t been long ago that Ciradyl¡¯s officials threatened to execute her if she refused treatment. ¡°That¡¯s horrible,¡± she forced out, ¡°I had no idea that Linnaeans were murdered¡­ I thought they died of their mutations or became a danger to society.¡±

    ¡°Of course, that¡¯s what the cities and the Holy Order would like everyone to believe. But even now, do you think anyone would object to the execution of a Linnaean? They think we¡¯re monsters. That¡¯s why Corax wants us to be ready to defend ourselves.¡±

    Naz reached out, taking Ember¡¯s hand. ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to think about. Sometimes I wish I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°This is heavy talk for lunchtime,¡± Carn added. ¡°Let¡¯s finish eating and then do something fun.¡±

    Ember took a deep breath, knowing that she would never forget what her friends had told her. She took another stab at the salad, bringing a cluster of lettuce and fresh berries to her mouth.

    She paused. The food tasted odd¡ªthick and flavorless on her tongue. I¡¯m just in shock, she told herself, but the more she chewed, the more unappetizing it became. It was as if she was trying to eat something completely inedible, like a textbook or a handful of dirt.

    She spat the half-chewed glob into a napkin, trying to be discrete but failing to conceal a gag. As Carn and Naz stared, she could feel her face growing beet-red. ¡°I think there¡¯s something wrong with this,¡± she choked out.

    Carn dragged the tray across the table, looking skeptical, and he and Naz¡ªboth omnivores¡ªtried a forkful of the salad. The moment he swallowed, he burst out laughing, and Naz kicked him under the table. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with it,¡± she said with a slight smile. ¡°You¡¯d better make an appointment with your advisor.¡±

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    ¡°At least now we know you¡¯re a carnivore,¡± Carn added.

    ***

    Ember could hear the crowd from half a mile away. She stuck close to Naz and Carn as hundreds of Linnaeans emerged from between the trees and flooded toward the hippodrome. Upbeat music played from wooden flutes and animal-hide drums, mixing pleasantly with the chorus of voices. More than a few Linnaeans had a companion animal by their side, and the forest fauna sensed the excitement and watched from between the trees, some even venturing out onto the path for handouts.

    Dozens of merchants had set up stands, selling all a manner of goods: clothes embroidered with the athletes¡¯ names, smoked wild game wrapped in paper packages, and sweet sodas flavored with berries. They called out to the match-goers, offering samples and good wishes. Carn looked at the food longingly as they passed, and Naz had to pull him along. Although tuition, supplies, and food were free on campus,  anything extra had to be purchased with the seeds, metal disks, and gems that served as Mendel¡¯s currency. Hence, many students showed their support for the athletes by painting their faces or wearing homemade masks in the shape of the fighters¡¯ species.

    Ember stopped short as three Linnaeans crossed the path: a woman and a man, each holding the hand of a small child as she walked between them. Like her parents, the child had a long grey horn right between her curious eyes.

    Ember grabbed Naz¡¯s arm. ¡°Look!¡±

    Naz giggled. ¡°You haven¡¯t seen a family before?¡±

    Ember looked at the ground, feeling rather dumb. ¡°Well, Linnaeans are pretty rare, so I thought¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about the science behind it, but the condition runs in the family. My father is Linnaean, and he lives in Mendel too.¡±

    Carn nodded. ¡°I¡¯d say most Linnaeans have at least one parent like them. We¡¯re discussing it in Biology II, and they call it heredity. ¡±

    Ember immediately thought of her father, and hope rose in her chest. ¡°What about the parent who isn¡¯t Linnaean? Or if two Linnaeans have a normal child? Could they live here too?¡±

    ¡°There are some families like that,¡± Naz answered thoughtfully, ¡°but most of the non-Linnaeans in Mendel were born here. Under the terms of the treaty, the mainland is only required to deliver the Linnaean, not their family.¡± She looked at Ember curiously. ¡°Why, is there someone you left behind?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Ember swallowed, saved from elaborating by their arrival at the entrance to the hippodrome. It was even more clogged with bodies than the university trails, and by the time they had reached the ticketing station, it was almost time for the fight to start.

    Carn pulled their tickets¡ªthree leaves inscribed with black ink¡ªfrom his pocket and presented them to the station associate, who handed the stubs back to them and wished them a good time. The three filed into the stands, picking a spot three-quarters of the way up the bleachers.

    The oval field below was shorn and evened, lined all around by coaches, medics, and referees. There was a raised box for the announcer and a special section for Mendel¡¯s VIPs, where Ember caught sight of what might have been Corax¡¯s black feathers.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost time for our first match of the season!¡± the announcer boomed, and most of the crowd jumped to its feet, cheering uproariously. ¡°As most of you know, this is a single-elimination tournament between the athletic department¡¯s top eight ranks! These fighters have been vying for a spot all spring and summer, and now they¡¯ll get their chance to compete for the year¡¯s title and a ticket into the Apex Association! As always, the matchups are completely random. First onto the field is our challenger, college junior Quentin Crawshaw!¡±

    A figure emerged from an arch at the bottom of the hippodrome, running to the center of the field and waving at the crowd. ¡°Ranked seventh in the athletics department, a red-shouldered hawk, Buteo lineatus!¡±

    The crowd broke into cheers and jeers, with the latter overwhelming the former. Ember leaned forward, curious to see the fighter. He was shirtless, well-muscled but not bulky. As he looked up again, she could see that he had a short, hooked beak for a mouth. His skin was feathered starting at his shoulders down to his calves, but most magnificent were the long, monochrome wings that scraped the ground below him. Unlike Corax¡¯s ¡®wings¡¯ which were an extension of his arms, Quentin¡¯s were separate appendages altogether. Incredible. Can he really fly?

    ¡°Lucky bastard,¡± Carn breathed, staring at Quentin like he was some sort of god. ¡°I hope he loses.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be mean,¡± Naz chided, eliciting a grumble from the fox. ¡°I think he¡¯s handsome.¡±

    As the hawk found his place in center field, the announcer took the stage again. ¡°Next up is our defender, fourth-rank Mateo Moore! A cape buffalo, Syncerus caffer!¡±

    The crowd stomped their feet, shaking the stands. ¡°We want Moore! We want Moore!¡±

    A hulking shape emerged from the arch and the spectators erupted into hysterics. Mateo was massive in every sense of the word, at least nine feet tall and crudely cut like a sculpture made from stone. Heavy horns hung on either side of his head and a thick black hide covered every inch of exposed skin. He broke into a lumbering gallop with his back hunched and his head lowered.

    ¡°It¡¯s an unlucky matchup,¡± Carn said into Ember¡¯s ear. ¡°Quentin is very skilled, but his chances of beating Mateo aren¡¯t good.¡±

    ¡°Are they really going to fight head-on?¡± Ember asked, eyeing Mateo¡¯s horns. ¡°Quentin could be killed.¡±

    ¡°They both know the risks. They want to learn from each other and become stronger. The referees will stop them from dying or being seriously injured.¡±

    ¡°Linnaeans tend to heal faster than normal people,¡± Naz added. ¡°We also have much better hospitals here than on the mainland.¡±

    Ember shrugged, still skeptical but willing to accept that these matches were part of Mendel¡¯s culture. Mateo came to a stop in front of Quentin, and the officiator took his place between them. ¡°No eye gouging, no puncture wounds to the heart, no fatal envenomation, and no ripping of limbs are allowed,¡±  the announcer rattled off. ¡°The winner will be decided when either fighter forfeits, becomes unconscious, or cannot medically continue. Now¡­ let the match begin!¡±

 9: The Hawk vs. The Buffalo

    Mateo charged forward at the announcer¡¯s call, lowering his head and grabbing for Quentin¡¯s legs like a wrestler. In a split second, much faster than a human¡¯s reaction time, Quentin¡¯s wings snapped open, nearly meeting behind his back and then beating back toward the ground. He shot ten feet in the air, descending behind Mateo and slashing at his back with his talons.

    Thin rivulets of blood ran down Mateo¡¯s hide as he turned around to confront Quentin. The hawk gave him little time to react, battering him with his wings and unleashing a flurry of kicks.

    ¡°Quentin demonstrates excellent technique once again!¡± the announcer shouted. ¡°How will Mateo react?¡±

    Ember leaned forward, fascinated by Quentin¡¯s unique style, a combination of the striking martial arts and the attack methods of a bird of prey. His superhuman speed and flexibility made his moves beyond impressive.

    Quentin jumped and struck at the buffalo¡¯s head, trying to throw him off balance. Mateo bellowed, shaking his horns and forcing his opponent backward. He threw a heavy punch at Quentin, but the agile hawk easily slipped to the side and countered with a series of jabs to Mateo¡¯s face.

    The fight sped up to a breakneck pace as the opponents clashed again and again. For each strike that Mateo attempted, Quentin was two steps ahead. Ember grimaced as Mateo¡¯s dark hide grew wet with blood and his roars of pain echoed around the hippodrome, wondering how long the fight could continue. The spectators gasped with each hit, some cheering and others groaning as Quentin seemed to gain the upper hand. Endlessly he darted at the buffalo, striking with his hands or sinking his beak into Mateo¡¯s skin, each attack part of a skillful combination of straight punches, hooks, uppercuts, and kicks.

    But suddenly, Quentin beat his great wings, shooting twenty feet across the field and watching Mateo warily. ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Ember asked aloud. ¡°He was winning!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Carn replied, pointing at Quentin as he fought to catch his breath. ¡°He¡¯s tired, and none of his attacks are working.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Naz agreed. ¡°Look at Mateo. He¡¯s bleeding, but he doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s seriously injured. If anything, he¡¯s angry.¡±

    Ember narrowed her eyes, not seeing what they had. She had never watched a formal spar, only street brawls between the boys in her hometown or the factory workers in Ciradyl. As an academic, she had seen violence¡ªwhenever it arose¡ªas a sign of immaturity amongst her peers or a method of control wielded by the administration. It had certainly never been a tool that she herself thought to utilize.

    ¡°The challenger has retreated to gather himself!¡± the announcer called out. ¡°As expected, Mateo¡¯s stamina is second to none. Quentin¡¯s disadvantage increases the longer the fight carries on!¡±

    Mateo ran at Quentin, giving him no time to recover. Once more Quentin flew out of reach, this time barely avoiding Mateo¡¯s horns. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t he attack from above?¡± Ember questioned. ¡°He might have a better chance of throwing Mateo off balance that way.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he can fly properly,¡± Carn speculated, ¡°only jump or glide. He may have wings like a bird, but he still has a human¡¯s body weight.¡±

    When Mateo charged for the third time, Quentin met him head-on. They exchanged blow after blow, with Quentin being pushed back until he was almost against the hippodrome¡¯s walls. Even Ember could see that his combinations were sloppier than before, and as Mateo threw his heavy boxer¡¯s punches or swung his horns, the hawk only managed to evade the moment before contact.

    Crack! The crowd gasped as one of Mateo¡¯s straight punches connected, sending Quentin staggering across the field with one of his arms hanging limp. His wings snapped open as he tried to create distance between them, but Mateo pursued him relentlessly, forcing him to defend himself from yet another sequence of punishing blows.

    As Quentin faded, Mateo seemed to wake up. His speed, flexibility, and strength increased as he closed in and threw hooks and uppercuts, battering the hawk¡¯s fragile body.

    Ember turned away, shaken by the fighters¡¯ brutality. They¡¯re only a few years older than me, but they have the will and strength to kill.

    The fight dragged on minute by minute. There were no breaks and no time-outs for the fighters, but still they continued, enhanced by their mutations and training.

    The end came jarringly. Mateo bore down on Quentin, pummeling him with his massive fists. Then, swifter than Ember would have thought possible, he stooped and swung his horns sideways into Quentin''s body. The blow caught the hawk just below his shoulder, puncturing his flesh and sending him flying a half-dozen yards across the field.

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    The arena held its breath as Quentin rolled twice, coming to a stop with his wings folded at awkward angles. Half a minute passed, and then Quentin raised his hand weakly in a sign of surrender. As the medics rushed forward to bandage his wounds, the announcer declared Mateo¡¯s win. The spectators jumped to their feet and the hippodrome erupted into cheers.

    ¡°Quentin¡¯s season has come to an end, while Mateo will fight in the quarterfinals. Join us next week for the second match!¡±

    ***

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you,¡± Professor Bloomberry said, dragging his chair into place behind his desk. Each word made the bright red comb atop his head and the wrinkly wattle beneath his chin jiggle. ¡°Your name is Ember Whitlock, correct?¡±

    Ember blinked, trying to tear her eyes away from his strange physique. He was so obviously a rooster (easily recognized from her childhood in a farming village) that she found it almost absurd. ¡°Yes,¡± she confirmed.

    ¡°My secretary noted that you¡¯ve had your first mutation. Can you describe what you¡¯re experiencing?¡±

    ¡°Sure. A few days ago I was eating greens when suddenly they started to taste revolting. I haven¡¯t been able to eat fruits or vegetables ever since.¡±

    Bloomberry nodded. ¡°Is that your only symptom?¡±

    ¡°So far, yes. Does this mean I¡¯m a carnivore?¡±

    He stroked his waggle thoughtfully. ¡°Well, that is the most likely option, but not the only one. It¡¯s quite hard to tell so early on. Our sense of smell is one of the most significant influences on taste, so any change in your olfactory system could be the cause. Some species are much more sensitive to smell than humans, while others have no sense of smell at all¡­ and if smell isn¡¯t responsible, it could be that you¡¯re one of the specialist species that prefer a specific group of foods.¡±

    Ember frowned. ¡°I had hoped that I was closer to discovering my species.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, dear, it might be a while yet. However, we will start you on a microdose of the treatment.¡± He reached into a desk drawer, pulling out a vial of small white pills. ¡°You should take one a day, and come back to me if any more changes appear.¡±

    ¡°Will I have to eat only meat from now on?¡±

    ¡°No, no. Based on your description, you might prefer not to eat vegetables, but your body still needs them, at least for now. Think of it this way¡ªyou¡¯re almost entirely human, and humans need certain vitamins to avoid becoming malnourished. A lack of vitamin C can cause scurvy, for example.¡±

    Ember cringed, remembering the taste of the salad. ¡°Try mixing the greens with juices from the meat,¡± Bloomberry added sympathetically.

    She picked up the vial and rolled it across her palm, watching as the pills tumbled backward. She trusted the Linnaeans, but not blindly, and the treatment had always been shadowed in obscurity. ¡°How do they work, exactly?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a complex question, even for me,¡± the advisor chuckled. ¡°As far as I understand, each pill has two components. One lowers your metabolism, which decreases the rate at which you grow and mutate, and the other contains certain chemicals that Corax¡¯s team has identified to lessen the severity of the mutations themselves. I believe that this effect is rooted in the genetic sequence. That¡¯s the extent of my knowledge, but I¡¯m sure the headmaster would be glad to tell you more if you made an appointment with him."

    Tilting her head, Ember attempted to sift through the mess of information. ¡°Genetics¡­ my friend mentioned something like that. About you being more likely to be Linnaean if one of your parents had the condition.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we know that to be true. But with so many Linnaeans and their families being killed, and with the possibility of developing the condition at any stage of life, it¡¯s difficult to discern the inheritance pattern.¡±

    Ember nodded in acknowledgment, making a mental note to figure out exactly what it all meant later. ¡°Do you have any more questions?¡± Bloomberry asked.

    My head is spinning with questions. But I don¡¯t even know what to ask. ¡°Just one. Is it possible to send a letter to someone outside of Mendel?¡±

    The advisor¡¯s face sank with pity. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Only Mendel¡¯s leaders can communicate with the mainland, and anyone attempting to get a letter past the walls of a city-state would be considered a spy.¡±

    Ember groaned internally, clenching the bridge of her nose and holding back tears. Bad news again¡­ will I ever be able to contact my father?

    Bloomberry patted her arm. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one around here that hopes things will change.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember sighed, mentally exhausted. The two said their goodbyes, with Ember promising to report her next mutations as they appeared. She pushed back her chair and stood, leaving the small office and stepping out onto the campus path.

    The forest air was crisp and cool, and Mendel¡¯s army of insects had taken up the call of dusk. She tilted her head upward, where a sliver of the moon could just barely be seen through the tree canopy. Between her first mutation, the match, and the advising appointment, the last few days had been almost unbearably overwhelming. The fight had left her unsettled, and the involuntary changes in her own body weren¡¯t completely welcome either.

    But worst of all was her failure to contact her father. She missed him enough to make her heart ache,  and the discussion of genetics had left her wondering about someone she hadn¡¯t thought about in a long time: her mother.

 10: Tripping on Toad Toxin

    ¡°Ember, I have something to tell you,¡± her father was saying. ¡°Come here.¡± She stared at him, agape. Not only was he here¡ªsomehow¡ªbut his wiry arms and flat belly had filled out again, like when they had lived back in Maple Valley outside of Vargas. Never mind that the world was distorted as if looking through a magic mirror; it was enough that she could talk to him and hold him.

    ¡°Dad!¡± She exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. He was tall enough to lift her up again, as things should be. ¡°Thank god, I had the strangest dream¡­¡±

    ¡°Ember. Listen to me!¡±

    She withdrew, looking at his face. It wasn¡¯t like him to speak so firmly, and his kindly features were contorted with worry. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    He bent down, taking her hands and looking into her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s your mother. Something has happened.¡±

    ¡°I thought that she was traveling for work?¡± She asked, her voice coming out awkwardly, an octave higher than usual.

    He shook his head. ¡°She was, but¡­ I got a letter saying that she¡¯s not coming home. I put in a missing person request, but the police tell me that she¡¯s okay¡­ that she¡¯s moved on. And her parents say the same.¡±

    ¡°W-what?¡± Ember breathed, feeling tears start to prick in her eyes. Her ten-year-old brain strained, trying to understand what he was saying through the strange haze. ¡°Why? Why would she leave us?¡±

    Ember¡¯s father shook his head, and she could tell that he was holding back tears. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know, sweetheart. But it wasn¡¯t your fault, not at all.¡±

    She held him tightly. ¡°Will she come back?¡±

    His silence was enough of an answer as squeezed her with his strong arms. ¡°There¡¯s something else I have to tell you.¡±

    She drew back, terrified of whatever was coming. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°Her parents, well, they¡¯re grieving, and¡­ they¡¯ve withdrawn their support.¡±

    Ember blinked, confused. Nothing made sense, as if she was swimming through some viscous liquid. She recalled vaguely that her house was on her grandparents¡¯ farmland and that her father worked at the slaughterhouse that they owned. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, honey. But we are going to have to move somewhere else, somewhere I can find work. I¡¯ve found a place in Ciradyl.¡±

    Ciradyl. She knew of it from the travelers that passed through each spring, an industrial city down south where people spoke with strange accents and wore stuffy clothes. No! she wanted to scream. No, no!

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to move,¡± she said meekly.

    ¡°Think¡­ think of this as a good thing,¡± her father said, his words rushing out of his mouth and stumbling over themselves. ¡°You¡¯re a very bright girl, and in Ciradyl you¡¯ll have more opportunities. You can even go to university if you want!¡±

    ¡°But-¡± Before Ember could finish her sentence, the world slumped and slowed around her, devolving into colorful dots. Her dad¡¯s grip weakened and then vanished completely as his form melted away. She reached for him but the setting had already transformed, coming together as a new scene that clutched her in an unwelcome embrace.

    She was laying in bed in complete darkness. The room was familiar yet unfamiliar like a lullaby heard in early childhood. Maple Valley again? she questioned, becoming aware that the sequence was a figment of her imagination.

    Her brain worked sluggishly as she wiggled her legs, finding that she couldn¡¯t reach the edge in any direction. Either the bed is larger, or I¡¯m a lot smaller.

    Creeeeak. She twitched, startled, and huddled under the covers as a ghostly hand drew up her window. The moonlight illuminated the first leg as it came through the door, and only seconds after a figure ducked underneath the pane and stepped into the room.

    Ember opened her mouth to scream almost reluctantly, unsure if she was capable of breaking the blanket of silence.

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    ¡°Shhh!¡± the figure said, leaning closer to Ember. ¡°It¡¯s Momma!¡±

    Ember closed her mouth and stared upward with wide-open eyes. Framed against the open window was a woman with long brown hair, dressed in all black and holding a heavy-looking backpack. She was translucent, immaterial, and her golden eyes glowed far too brightly in the dark room.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I woke you up, baby,¡± the woman said gently. She trailed her fingers over Ember¡¯s head, making her shudder, then crossed the room and pulled open the door to the hallway.

    ¡°But Momma,¡± Ember whispered, her mouth moving of its own accord, ¡°why did you come through the window? And why are you all dirty?¡±

    Ember¡¯s mom turned around again, smiling softly. Then, completely at ease, she held a finger up to her lips. ¡°Hush, my baby. You¡¯re only dreaming.¡±

    As Ember narrowed her eyes at the illusory woman, the world went haywire again, and she found her body disconnecting from the bed below. She floated higher and higher above the frozen scene, nearly colliding with the ceiling, bobbing and drifting¡­so wonderfully weightless until she plummeted somewhere and sometime else altogether: atop an overgrown hill in dreary winter.

    Ba dum da dum. The drums sounded, playing the funeral march of Vargas. Ember¡¯s head spun uncomfortably, and she stumbled a few steps to one side. Her feet felt like lead weights, and she looked down to see shiny black shoes that even her phlegmatic brain instantly recognized as the pair that her father had bought to honor the woman who had abandoned them.

    Ba dum da dum. The cold wind of the north blew back the tall grass, revealing the gravestones that lay nestled like hatchlings in its somber embrace. Ember swore that they were marching up toward her, threatening to swallow her within their ranks.

    ¡°Come,¡± her father said gently. ¡°Don¡¯t look if you don¡¯t want to, but come back to the gathering.¡±

    ¡°Funeral,¡± Ember corrected dully.

    ¡°Okay, funeral.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, her cheeks flushing with frustration. It didn¡¯t matter if the scene was some strange imagination: she was still angry, still betrayed by her callous mother. ¡°Why should either of us go?¡±

    He crouched, taking her hands and giving her a slight smile. His skin was too warm and too rough to the touch, too intense to be lifelike. ¡°She was your mother, Ember. I don¡¯t pretend to understand why she did what she did, but I know she loved you until the very end. Besides, the city of Vargas paid for our stagecoach tickets, and you liked the horses.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Ember relented, grasping her father¡¯s hand and following him down the hill. Ba dum da dum. By the casket, the sound of the drums was uncomfortably loud, and Ember resisted the urge to plug her ears with her fingers. Her father dropped her hand, gesturing for her to stay as he joined the line waiting for the viewing. Without thinking, she meandered after him, finding herself sandwiched between two strangers.

    Ba dum da dum. Ember stepped forward on the beat, turning her eyes to the body that lay cradled in the wooden casket: her mother, grayer than in life but untouched enough that she could have been sleeping. A moment passed in perfect stillness, then another, and Ember¡¯s anger was split through by a melancholy so complete that she thought she would never move again. Her mother¡¯s face seemed to lift and float in front of her, whispering, tempting her into guilt for her anger. Then, someone brushed up against her and she startled, rushing through the rest of the line and into her father¡¯s arms.

    As she nestled her head beneath his shoulder, her eyes met¡ªcoincidentally¡ªthose of a man that did not possess even an inkling of familiarity. His gaze, analytical and calculating, cut right through the dreamscape and locked onto Ember and her father with the air of someone who has encountered a distasteful inconvenience.

    Ember shot awake, panting and clutching the sheets like a patient awoken from the dead. She touched her arms gently, wondering for a moment if she was still dreaming, but recognizing quickly the substantiality that comes with the waking world. Why did I dream of those things now, after so many years? She swung her legs over the bed and reached into her bag until her fingers touched the wooden star. It glowed faintly, comfortingly, and she took a deep breath as she looked at it.

    Is that really how things happened? Ember asked herself, struggling to differentiate truth from fantasy. Was that a dream¡­ or a memory? Who was that man? Did my mother really sneak into my room? Either way, she knew that the answers would not be forthcoming anytime soon.

    Suddenly restless, she wrapped herself in a blanket and pulled open the door to the hallway, her feet sinking into the soft soil floor. She felt mildly feverish: her stomach flipped uneasily, and her head was still half-stuffed with cotton. The building was louder than usual at this time of night, and Ember had the sense that she wasn¡¯t alone in her wandering.

    There was a rustling as a figure hurried down the hall. Ember recognized her as Mrs. Marmee, the middle-aged Linnaean who managed the unaffiliated dorm. Her arms were full of first aid supplies, and she looked pressed.

    ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± Ember asked shakily.

    ¡°Oh dear,¡± Mrs. Marmee said, taking her by the shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve just learned that the beef served at supper was contaminated with desert toad toxin. It may cause some minor hallucinations, but it should wear off very soon.¡±

    She handed Ember a small pouch of oblong-shaped leaves, instructing her to crush them and drink them with water to calm her nerves. Ember thanked her and retreated into her room, dragging a hand down her face and sighing deeply.

    Ah, yes¡­ what a good day to be Linnaean.

 11: The Saline Lake

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to take the natural logarithm,¡± Ember said, looking over Naz¡¯s perplexing columns of calculations. ¡°How did you get x equals five thousand?¡±

    Naz groaned, clutching her head dramatically. ¡°Show me again.¡±

    Ember bent over the table with a slight smile on her face. It seemed a rare occurrence that she knew something her friends did not. The three were studying on campus¡ªalthough studying was a strong word for Carn¡ªon a wooden bench in the central plaza. It was a warm, breezy day that made the leaves rustle, welcome weather after Ember¡¯s disturbing night.

    Carn sucked on his straw noisily from his position draped over the top of the bench. ¡°Be quiet,¡± Ember chided. ¡°You¡¯ll distract Naz again.¡±

    ¡°So, Em,¡± he teased, ¡°there are dark circles under your eyes. Did you not sleep well?¡±

    Ember sighed. ¡°Not really. I had an unusual dream. Apparently, I was tripping on toad toxin.¡±

    Naz looked at her strangely. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not relive it. We really need to get back to-¡±

    ¡°Are you going to the match next week?¡± Carn interrupted.

    Ember put down her pencil, half exasperated and half amused. ¡°No, I think I¡¯m going to sit the next few out. It¡¯s a little gory for my taste.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he replied, sitting up and swinging his legs back and forth like a child. ¡°Naz would probably feel that way if she hadn¡¯t grown up here.¡±

    Ember took the bait, hoping she wasn¡¯t dredging up a dark topic. ¡°I know Naz moved here when she was young, but what about you?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know my parents even on the mainland,¡± he said in his usual cheery tone. ¡°I grew up in an orphanage in Bayport until I was twelve. Hell, I was happy when they took me away.¡±

    Ember fixed her eyes on his, homework forgotten. ¡°Have you ever wondered about them? You know, who they really were?¡±

    Carn frowned. ¡°I try not to worry about it. I know they¡¯re not in Mendel¡ªmy caretaker checked when I was first brought in¡ªso there¡¯s no real way of knowing if they were Linnaean or not without Bayport¡¯s records.¡±

    Records¡­ maybe they could tell me something about my mother. But Vargas is a week away by horseback. ¡°What happened after you came here?¡±

    ¡°The city put me up in one of the community halls and let me attend the middle division on scholarship. Then, since I did well in school, I was accepted into the university.¡±

    Ember nodded, unsurprised¡ªalthough Carn wasn¡¯t the studious type, he had a natural affinity for learning.

    ¡°Is Bayport like they say?¡± Naz asked dreamily. ¡°I heard it¡¯s on the coast.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s cold, it smells like fish, and I think the sea swallows more sailors than it lets out alive.¡±

    ¡°Still, I wish we could go,¡± Naz replied. ¡°Maybe one day, when the treaty is more secure.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Carn shrugged, ¡°but I¡¯m glad we have Mendel until then.¡±

    ***

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s time for our first round of exams already,¡± Naz griped, holding her books close to her chest as if they could provide some comfort. ¡°One month into school is far too soon.¡±

    You have no idea, Ember wanted to say. I¡¯ve only just found out I¡¯m Linnaean, and they¡¯re already grilling me on the facts and figures. Her eyes were heavy from the long nights spent studying for her core classes, and her stomach rumbled every few minutes to remind her of the meals she¡¯d skipped. ¡°At least most of them are over,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°That might not be such a good thing for me,¡± Naz countered. ¡°I think chemistry kicked my ass¡­ the stoichiometry is just not clicking.¡±

    Ember nodded sympathetically, her mind jumping back and forth between the conversation and her next exam: Hickory¡¯s practical. ¡°How¡¯s Carn coping? Have you talked to him recently?¡±

    Naz frowned. ¡°Actually, no. He¡¯s been distant ever since he moved into the mammalia dorm¡­ the last time I saw him is when we were all together last week.¡±

    ¡°I figured he was just studying,¡± Ember said, giving Naz the side eye, and they both broke into laughter.

    ¡°Okay, you¡¯re right, there¡¯s no need to worry. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll come around when exams are over.¡±

    Ember agreed as they came to a crossroads in the path, where they waved goodbye and wished each other good luck. Right away, without Naz around to distract her, anxiety about the exam formed a knot in her chest. ¡°Webcaps, skullcaps, dapperlings,¡± she recited under her breath. In typical fashion, Hickory hadn¡¯t told them what the practical would be on, but poisonous mushrooms had appeared in several of his lectures.

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    A small crowd of nervous students had already gathered in front of Hickory¡¯s tree-classroom by the time Ember arrived. Many of them had come absurdly over-prepared, bearing full-body protective suits, stacks of books on plant identification, and bucketfuls of digging supplies.

    ¡°He really gave us no hints,¡± Morgan said, appearing behind Ember in chemist¡¯s goggles and gloves. Stifling a chuckle, Ember greeted her, and the two quizzed each other on Hickory¡¯s lessons to pass the time.

    The professor arrived ten minutes before the official start of the exam, holding nothing but a clipboard and a notepad. ¡°Now now, students,¡± he bellowed, ¡°judging by your punctuality, you must be very eager to take my exam!¡± The class laughed nervously. ¡°Worry not-¡± croak ¡°-I will not keep you waiting any longer. Today, we will be going to the Saline Lake. You may leave any aids inside the classroom, where I assure you they will be safely awaiting your return.¡±

    Reluctantly, the students pulled off their special suits and set down their supplies. After waiting for the last stragglers to join them, Hickory raised two fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply. To Ember¡¯s surprise, a herd of elk materialized between the trees, silent and stunning like forest spirits. Their brown and white coats glittered in the sun, and over half of the herd sported antlers as wide as a human¡¯s wingspan.

    There was an audible intake of breath as the herd separated. Each elk found its place next to a student, seemingly knowing with whom they would be most compatible. Ember¡¯s elk was a young female, smaller than most members of the herd but still at least four and a half feet tall at the shoulder. She swung her heavy head, regarding Ember with soft brown eyes. ¡°Hello,¡± Ember whispered.

    The largest buck sauntered up to Hickory, resting his chin atop his head and letting out of low huff. Unlike the others, the buck was fitted with a harness that supported a one-person cart. ¡°All right, class, ¡° Hickory croaked, ¡°you may now ask for permission to mount your elk. As you can see, I will be valiantly leading the way from this carriage, but I feel very confident in your abilities to ride behind me.¡±

    There was a pause as the class processed his instructions. Then, instinctively, Ember and half of the group sought out Chaz the gorilla, whose massive physique had become somewhat of a running joke. He glanced at his elk (the second largest) apprehensively, eliciting an equally apprehensive look from the animal.

    The class broke out into belly-shaking laughter. With the tense mood dissipated, the students that had traveled by elk before began to mount their animals, some jumping straight into position and others using tree roots to boost themselves. Ember watched a few examples, noting the successful attempts and the ones that ended in body-bruising failure. Having grown up in the country, she wasn¡¯t a complete stranger to riding, but her grandfather¡¯s working horses had rarely tolerated her attempts to mount.

    ¡°All right,¡± she turned to her elk, ¡°let¡¯s do this. May I ride you?¡±

    There was no response, which Ember took as a good sign. She positioned herself parallel to the elk, using a mound of soil to elevate herself. Then, she placed her hands on the dense hair around the animal¡¯s neck, keeping an eye on her blunt teeth. She took a step and sprang upward slightly, propelling one leg over the elk¡¯s back and heaving herself into a prone position. The elk adjusted to her weight, and Ember managed to sit up behind her shoulders, using her mane as an anchor. She tightened her core and squeezed the animal¡¯s body with her legs, remembering to lean forward and keep her back straight.

    It took a few minutes and a half-dozen crashes for the whole class to mount, but eventually, even Chaz sat perched atop his elk. ¡°Now that you are all settled,¡± Hickory announced, ¡°we will begin our journey to the Saline Lake. Your elk know to follow me and Gambit, so there¡¯s no need to give them commands.¡± He climbed into his cart, and the lead elk¡ªevidently named Gambit¡ªtook off at a trot, following the path that led to the far reaches of campus. The others followed, some nearly displacing their inexperienced riders.

    Despite the fact that the elk¡¯s back was uncomfortable and her long hairs poked Ember¡¯s skin, the two quickly fell into a rhythm as they traveled. Ember began to relax, looking around appreciatively. Like nature itself, Mendel and its residents were in a constant state of change, and there was something novel to see each time she left her dorm room. Although the leaves had not yet started to change colors, the forest was already preparing for fall, with many of its animals beginning to grow an extra layer of fur or entering a rut for the breeding season. Flocks of birds returned from their northern migrations, rodents hoarded food for the winter, and clusters of multi-colored beetles aggregated in patches of light. The excitement was infectious, and even the Linnaeans seemed to find themselves outside more often.

    In the end, the ride was moderate and undemanding, coming in at three-quarters of an hour. The sun was directly overhead when they came to a stop at a mid-sized outbuilding. Ember and her classmates dismounted¡ªsome more gracefully than others¡ªand waited for Hickory¡¯s next direction. He climbed out of the cart, stretched his long legs, and disconnected Gambit¡¯s harness.

    ¡°Thank your mounts,¡± he instructed. Ember turned to her elk, stroking her neck and praising her in a way that she hoped conveyed her gratefulness. The animal considered her one last time before joining the other members of her herd as they separated from the students.

    As quickly as they had come, the elk melted back through the trees. Ember found herself waving goodbye along with her peers and hoping that the herd would return to escort them back. She had felt a connection with her mount, something she would have thought impossible just a month before; never on the mainland had animals been deemed worthy of respect or capable of communication.

    ¡°Well then,¡± the professor called the class¡¯s attention, ¡°I see that you have all made it in one piece. As you know-¡± croak ¡°-we have spent our first month learning about gathering data in the inaccessible areas of campus. The Saline Lake is one such area, covering twenty acres and reaching a maximum depth of fifty-five feet. It is also a very vulnerable environment, as it must be maintained at a salinity level of thirty-five parts per million to accommodate our saltwater species. This makes it a hotspot for research, maintenance, and healthcare workers.

    ¡°Today, you will partner with one other person to survey the lake conditions at various depths: five, ten, and twenty feet. You may check out any level one or level two gear in the storage building, including wetsuits, masks, rafts, fins, and surface-supplied air equipment. You will not be graded on how far you can dive or what equipment you use. Instead, you¡¯ll earn marks for your ability to safely navigate the lake conditions, your resourcefulness, and the quality of your data. No one will be penalized for their mutations or lack thereof. And before you ask, pisces will not have the advantage on the next two exams.

    ¡°If you have any questions or concerns, I will be stationed at the eastern lookout tower and my teaching assistants will be on rafts. No matter your species, do not dive or drift into deep water, indicated by the red buoys. Good luck to all of you, and stay safe.¡±

 12: A Cunning Cephalopod

    Ember and Morgan found each other as the students began to pair up. ¡°You didn¡¯t happen to develop gills on the way here, did you?¡± Morgan asked hopefully.

    ¡°No luck,¡± Ember sighed, remembering that her partner wasn¡¯t a strong swimmer either. If anything, the heavy layers of scales on her head and shoulders would weigh her down in the water.

    They exchanged a worried look and hurried to join the line for the outbuilding. Because the forest was particularly dense in the remote areas of campus, Ember couldn¡¯t see the Saline Lake, but the smell of salt in the air betrayed its presence. From Hickory¡¯s lectures, she knew that it was a hub for Mendel¡¯s saltwater species, and¡ªbecause of the difficulties with monitoring it¡ªa hotspot for accidents on campus.

    ¡°We need to gather samples from the surface and from the lakebed,¡± Ember said, ¡°and since neither of us can free-dive that far, we¡¯ll need to check out level two equipment.¡±

    Morgan agreed, but Ember noticed her leg bouncing nervously. They laid out the rest of their strategy as they waited, beginning with a list of materials and ending with the construction of their report.

    The line moved quickly as the students rushed to pick up their supplies, and it was less than ten minutes before the pair passed over the threshold. Ember glanced around, comparing what she saw to the diagrams that Hickory had drawn on the board. The outbuilding was large, with two stories that served as equipment storage, a temporary laboratory, and a center for emergency medicine. It was humid inside, constructed from interlocking wooden panels, and more insulated than the other buildings in Mendel. In the first story, the students could check out level-one supplies themselves or request more advanced equipment from the staff at the window.

    As per their strategy, the girls pulled one-piece swimsuits, masks, and fins from the clothing rack and picked up the basics for data collection in the level-one room. Then, while Morgan secured a pass to use one of the rafts on shore, Ember checked out a surface-supplied air system and a first-aid kit. They met up outside of the outbuilding, both breathing heavily, and struggled to load their provisions into a rolling cart.

    They made their way slowly through the dense forest, following the other students and the smell of the sea. As the trees cleared, the Saline Lake stretched before them, vaster and busier than Ember had imagined. Bamboo rafts lined the eastern bank and many of the lake¡¯s patrons were resting on the shore or interacting with the staff. Nearby, Ember saw a young Linnaean wearing a cork vest being led into the water by a man in a wetsuit.

    After identifying their assigned raft, the pair set up their station and changed into their gear. Ember stumbled out from between the trees dressed in the slick swimsuit and bulky fins, drawing a giggle from Morgan, who had chosen to ditch the most awkward parts of the wardrobe.

    ¡°It¡¯s safer,¡± Ember snapped. ¡°If anything, it¡¯s sillier not to wear them.¡±

    Her partner shrugged facetiously, and the two set out to gather their data. Collecting the first samples was surprisingly simple; the water was pleasantly warm, and the ticklish patches of seagrass on the sandy bottom were easy to avoid. They pushed the raft out into five feet of water and surveyed the surface, taking their notebooks from the waterproof bags to write down their observations. For the quantitative data, they tested the water¡¯s pH, finding it to be slightly alkaline, and crouched along the bottom to gather bits of sand in glass vials.

    The task was trickier at ten feet but still manageable. After Morgan paddled them to the desired depth, Ember lowered herself into the lake, holding onto the edge of the raft. The dark, undulating water set her slightly on edge, but the closeness to shore and the number of people nearby made her feel relatively protected. After gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and plunged to the bottom, making a sightless grab for a fistful of sand and making it breathlessly back to the surface.

    After she clambered back onto the raft, Morgan once again paddled them further away from shore. As they left the launching area, the conditions began to change rapidly. The sediment cleared, and rocks and coral heads sprouted along the bottom. Fish darted close to the raft, startling the girls, and dark shapes that could have been sea creatures or shadows from overhead moved across the sand. When the trees along the shoreline seemed to shrink in size, Morgan dropped their weighted measuring tape, then retracted it, shaking her head¡ªonly sixteen feet.

    Ember shivered. They were two hundred feet from the banks now, and the voices of the other Linnaeans were faded and echoey. Although rafts and boats still dotted the lake¡¯s surface, the water that lay between her and them seemed like an impassable wall. The red buoys sat a hippodrome-length ahead, forming a menacing triangle that promised deep and dangerous waters.

    ¡°Over here!¡± someone called, and Ember shifted to see another raft with two of her classmates. Morgan paddled over and one of the guys held up his measuring tape, indicating a depth of twenty feet exactly.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Ember said. She donned her mask and leaned over the side of the raft, dipping only her head in the water. Below was a long and wide line of brightly-covered corals surrounded by a conglomeration of life: schools of fish of all sizes, many-legged crustaceans, and branched sea sponges that reached toward the surface like fingers.

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    She sat up on the raft, breathless and stunned. ¡°We¡¯re over the reef.¡±

    Morgan¡¯s eyes were wide as she looked over the edge. ¡°I don¡¯t know about this¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go. Only one of us can use the equipment anyway.¡±

    Her partner¡¯s shoulders slumped in relief. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll work on our report in the meantime and make sure we don¡¯t drift into deeper water.¡±

    With her heart thumping, Ember turned to the equipment in the center of the raft. They¡¯d studied the surface-supplied air system in class, but actually using it was a different story, especially since most of the lesson had been dedicated to troubleshooting. It was one of the most advanced pieces of technology that Ember had ever seen, consisting of a mouthpiece, a long tube made of twisted fibers, and a metal cylinder that supplied compressed gas.

    Ember fitted the mouthpiece between her teeth as Morgan checked the regulator and the hose. After a thumbs up from her partner, she eased herself into the water, trying not to think about what might be lurking below. Air bubbled through the mouthpiece, allowing her to take shallow breaths. She turned, slowly, remembering how important it was to make a controlled descent. The water pushed against her on all sides, embracing her, cooler than in the shallows but not uncomfortable.

    She windmilled her arms to keep herself afloat and dared to look down. All around her, the lake was bustling with activity. A school of yellow and blue fish darted around her feet, disappearing into a structure of coral, and a crab-like creature with a fanned tail scuttled across a patch of sand. There was motion in every corner of her vision, and she spun in a circle to keep anything from sneaking up on her. Above, the bottom of the raft was a dark rectangle, dwarfed by the vastness of the water.

    Awkwardly, Ember lowered herself onto a patch of sand and scooped a pinch into a vial. When she stood back up, an unexpected current sent her floundering into a tower of coral. She mumbled a curse, causing the mouthpiece to shift between her teeth and eliciting a flurry of bubbles.

    She froze as the water cleared. Directly ahead, part of the coral structure began to pulse and shift, detaching itself from the reef. The bright yellow of the coral faded to a dull grey, materializing into a ghost-like creature that glided onto the sand patch and shook itself off.

    Ember stumbled backward, holding the mouthpiece in place and trying to breathe normally. The creature was about her size, draped in doughy skin with no discernable face or limbs. Disorientated, it turned around and changed colors again, this time to a ruddy brown.

    Ember held her hands in front of her and moved them up and down in what she hoped was a calming motion. After a moment, the creature reached up and pulled back a flap of skin, revealing a face that was distinctly human. She clutched her chest with relief and forced out a garbled apology, watching the Linnaean carefully for any indication of violence. The sea creature¡ªobviously male¡ªregarded her cooly, then shot toward the surface like a cannonball, stirring up the sand so that it blocked Ember¡¯s vision.

    She clutched the sample in one hand and followed haphazardly, hoping that she wouldn¡¯t annoy the other Linnaean more than she already had. The moment she breached the surface, she pulled the tube from her mouth and pushed her goggles to her forehead.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she panted, already struggling to tread water. The sea creature half-swam, half-floated a few feet away with his color-changing skin flared out like the tail of a startled cat. He was otherworldly, and his unlidded eyes gazed at Ember like she was stuck to the bottom of someone¡¯s shoe. But as she turned to face him directly, his eyebrows rose and his face softened inexplicably.

    ¡°Hello,¡± he said, and Ember had the sense that she¡¯d avoided a tongue-lashing. His voice was soft and raspy as if he had a sore throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry I disturbed you, I¡¯m not a strong swimmer.¡±

    ¡°I can see that,¡± he replied, gesturing in a matter-of-fact way that revealed an arm covered in coin-sized suckers.

    ¡°You can breathe underwater?¡±

    He chuckled condescendingly. ¡°Not for long. Like it¡¯s rare for birds to have a set of wings, it¡¯s rare for pisces to have fully-functional gills. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m going to go back to napping.¡± Before she could say another word, he sank back under the surface and disappeared from view.

    What a strange conversation. Ember rubbed her head, dehydrated and dizzy, and paddled back to the raft. She grasped the bamboo shoots and plopped the sample on the deck, letting her upper body slump over with exhaustion.

    ¡°You¡¯re back!¡± Morgan exclaimed, helping Ember clamber to her knees. ¡°Who were you talking to?¡±

    ¡°Some pisces. I woke him up, and he was a little rude.¡±

    Morgan paused. ¡°Did he change colors?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±

    ¡°Shit, Ember,¡± she replied, bending over with her hands on her thighs. ¡°That was Orthus.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a third-year, an octopus, and pretty well-known around here. Supposedly he knows everything about everybody, and if the rumors are true, he¡¯s even been in Corax¡¯s laboratory. But he¡¯s nearly impossible to find, and he doesn¡¯t deal with just anyone. So why the hell did he talk to you?¡±

    ¡°That all sounds illegal,¡± Ember sighed, too exhausted to care that she¡¯d run into Mendel¡¯s information dealer. ¡°Have you finished the report?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Morgan smiled, holding up a notebook page covered in data and calculations. ¡°Alkalinity, wind strength, noise levels, lake floor composition, qualitative observations¡­ it¡¯s all accounted for, except the most recent sample.¡±

    Ember looked to the sky, letting out another deep breath. Finally, at long last, exam week was over. ¡°Let¡¯s head-¡±

    ¡°Help!¡± Someone shouted, and Ember whipped around to see one of the students who had directed them to the reef. He was leaning over the side of his raft and pointing at something in the water. ¡°Conrad hasn¡¯t come up yet!¡±

 13: The Greenhouse

    Ember¡¯s blood ran cold as she stared at her classmate. ¡°Your partner hasn¡¯t come up? Was he connected to an air supply?¡±

    The man shook his head, his face slack with terror. ¡°Call a medic,¡± Ember ordered. Without hesitation, she pulled the goggles over her eyes and stuck the mouthpiece between her teeth, plunging back into the dark lake water.

    For a moment, she lay suspended just below the surface, urgently searching for any sign of a struggle. Her eyes locked onto two bodies, tightly intertwined and nearly indistinguishable from one another in the stirred-up water. She swam as quickly as she dared, coming up behind them with her back to the corals.

    From close up, what had appeared to be a mess of limbs separated into two Linnaeans: her classmate and a sea creature covered in long purple spines, both surrounded by the faint red hue of blood. Conrad was impaled from his feet to his stomach, struggling weakly as he tried to detach himself. As Ember watched, the sea creature tried to push him away but only managed to bury her spines deeper.

    Keeping the mouthpiece tightly between her jaws, Ember grabbed Conrad by the hips and wrenched him backward. Catching onto her plan, the sea creature latched onto a head of coral, and Ember tugged again. He popped free, moaning and sending more blood leaking into the water. Knowing that she was running out of time, Ember gestured for the other Linnaean to follow and pulled Conrad flush against her, taking care to avoid the spines. She bent her knees and pushed off from the sand, propelling herself toward the surface.

    The raft grew closer painfully slowly. Conrad¡¯s body dragged in the water, weighing her down and threatening to send her sinking to the bottom. She gasped for breath, kicking as hard as she could and clawing with her free arm. Then, finally, Morgan¡¯s hand stretched out into the water, hauling them up until their heads broke the surface.

    Together, the Linnaeans pulled their injured classmate onto one of the rafts. The spiny sea creature emerged last, gripping the edge of the raft with a look of horror splayed across her face. ¡°He stepped on me,¡± she gasped.

    ¡°Never mind that,¡± Ember said, bending over Conrad. He was pale and shaking, but breathing shallowly; some unknown mutation had kept him from aspirating. Broken-off spines spouted from his skin at random intervals, surrounded by purpled and swollen flesh.

    ¡°I sent out a flare,¡± his partner said. Ember nodded, noting that the nearest boat was on the opposite bank.

    ¡°What¡¯s your species?¡± she asked the sea creature.

    ¡°Long-spined sea urchin.¡±

    ¡°Venomous?¡±

    She nodded. Ember rooted around in her first aid kit, coming up with a pair of tweezers, which she used to grip the first cluster of spines stuck in Conrad''s skin. She pulled them out gingerly, leaving behind a patch of blue-black residue. Morgan came behind her and rinsed out the puncture wounds with a canteen of fresh water. As they worked, Ember spotted Orthus watching with an almost disinterested look on his face.

    ¡°The medic¡¯s coming,¡± Conrad¡¯s partner said, pointing at a rowboat with a bright-red flag. A moment later, a middle-aged Linnaean pulled up beside them, taking one look at the urchin and lifting Conrad into his boat. Using his own tweezers, he removed the rest of the visible spines in rapid-fire, dabbing at the skin with a vinegar solution.

    ¡°It burns,¡± Conrad moaned, twisting against the wooden rowboat.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be just fine,¡± the medic said calmly, then turned to Ember and the others. ¡°I¡¯m going to take him back to the infirmary to get the deeper spines removed. He¡¯ll be out of commission for a few days, but he¡¯ll be okay. You did well pulling him out of the water.¡± With that, he rowed briskly toward the outbuilding, leaving the three classmates and the urchin staring at each other.

    ¡°You probably saved his life,¡± Conrad¡¯s partner told Ember. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Professor Hickory knows.¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you,¡± the urchin added, her face pinched and swollen from crying.

    Ember looked down, grimacing at the mess of venom and blood on the bamboo shoots. ¡°Please, let¡¯s get back to shore. I think I¡¯ve forgotten the feeling of dry land.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Congratulations, Ember!¡± Naz exclaimed, grabbing and shaking her arm excitedly. Ember blinked confusedly, pushing through the remainder of the crowd so that she stood in front of the board that displayed the exam results. There, outlined in gold, was her name in third place in the freshmen class.

    ¡°Oh god,¡± she said, staring open-mouthed. She¡¯d thought that her exams had gone well, but not this well.

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    ¡°I knew you were brilliant!¡± Naz added, attracting the attention of several students who gave Ember an appreciative whistle or a thumbs-up. ¡°Now you¡¯ve got to tutor me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about all that,¡± Ember laughed. After one last look at the board, they moved to the side, leaving room for other students to view their scores.  ¡°How did you and Carn do?¡±

    Naz shrugged. ¡°I passed. But Carn¡¯s on the probation list.¡±

    ¡°What? He¡¯s so smart!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t know what''s going on. He might act stupid, but he¡¯s always done well in school. We need to talk to him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been living under a rock for the past week,¡± Ember frowned. ¡°Let¡¯s go to the mammalia dorm soon and make sure he¡¯s okay.¡±

    Naz agreed, looking anxious. Not even a minute later, Ember heard her name being called from across the trail. Morgan rushed toward her and threw her arms around her body, giggling excitedly. ¡°We got an A on Hickory¡¯s exam, thanks to you! Apparently, we were one of the only groups to make the dive, and I¡¯m sure no one else saved someone¡¯s life!¡±

    ¡°It took both of us. Your report was excellent.¡±

    ¡°We have to celebrate! Come with me to the Greenhouse tonight, I¡¯ll pay.¡± Ember titled her head, considering it. The Greenhouse was Mendel¡¯s most popular club for university students, within walking distance of the center of campus. ¡°Pleaseee?¡± Morgan begged, ¡°It¡¯s Friday night!¡±

    Ember shrugged. Although she wasn¡¯t the partying type, a break would be welcome after the week of torture. ¡°All right, but I¡¯m not going to get drunk.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Morgan said, looking thrilled. ¡°I¡¯ll pick you up at ten.¡±

    ***

    Ember followed Morgan up the trail, feeling terribly overdressed. The other girl was wearing a tight top that showed off her thick scales and a skirt that fell to her mid-thigh, while Ember had opted for her usual cargo pants and loose shirt. She¡¯d also added a light jacket at the last minute, hoping to chase off the night¡¯s chill.

    Other clusters of Linnaeans were out on campus, drinking from wooden cups or laying on blankets beneath the stars. A bat colony flew overhead, dodging between the great trees in their hunt for insects. Ember and Morgan chatted quietly as they walked, stopping occasionally to look at a deer or owl.

    The music was audible as soon they passed the campus boundary. Nestled between two redwoods was a building constructed entirely from wood and glass, draped in vines and partially obscured by fallen leaves. Morgan grabbed Ember¡¯s hand and brushed the vines aside, pulling her through the open doors and into the club.

    The main floor was packed with young Linnaeans dancing and drinking a variety of multi-colored spirits. Behind them was a raised stage where a band of five played upbeat music. Morgan led them to the counter, where she paid for two cups of berry wine while flirting with the bartender. Ember took her cup in one hand, sampling it tentatively. It went down surprisingly easily, mellow and woody compared to Ciradyl¡¯s hard liquor.

    Content to lean against the bar and sip her drink, Ember watched as Morgan danced through the crowd. She threw her head back and made up her own lyrics to the music, switching from partner to partner with no regard for gender. Meanwhile, Ember recognized a couple of the Linnaeans from class and exchanged a few words with them, deflecting their requests for tutoring good-naturedly.

    After her second drink, Morgan returned to the bar and tugged Ember into the crowd, spinning her around and beginning a jumbled waltz. Ember followed along with the other girl¡¯s antics, laughing despite herself. They crossed in front of the stage to the other side of the club, where some groups of Linnaeans were drinking at tables fashioned from tree roots.

    Ember slowed, causing Morgan to slam into her. ¡°What is it?¡± Morgan asked. When Ember didn¡¯t respond, she shrugged, disappearing back into the crowd.

    Ember narrowed her eyes. Perched at the furthest table was a group of six men, each of them a species of canine. They sat behind a pile of empty steins, horsing around with smug looks that left a sour taste in Ember¡¯s mouth¡ªand in their midst was Carn.

    So that¡¯s where he¡¯s been. Ember looked him over, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the heavy glass in his hand. He looked more serious than usual, and his red fur had thickened around his forearms. As she watched, he fidgeted to one side, seemingly unable to sit still. Ember hung back, deciding if she should speak to him or not. Then, remembering how insistent he had been when they first met, she pushed through the crowd to stand in front of his table.

    His eyes were wide and wild as they met hers. ¡°Hey, Carn,¡± she said, ignoring the skeptical looks from the other canines. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you around lately, how have you been doing?¡±

    Carn¡¯s ears tilted back slightly as he glanced at his new friends. ¡°I¡¯m all right.¡±

    ¡°Did your exams go well?¡±

    ¡°Just fine.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to the next game?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know.¡±

    Ember scowled. ¡°Can we talk? Naz is worried.¡±

    ¡°Ember, I¡¯ll see you around, okay?¡±

    She clenched her fists, wanting to grab him by the collar and knock some sense into him. The dismal, sour man in front of her was so un-Carn-like that it made her furious. ¡°You-¡±

    ¡°He said to leave,¡± one of the other canines interrupted. He was well-developed, lean and scrappy with disk-like ears and dark brown eyes. As he regarded Ember, his posture stiffened and the hair around his neck stood on end, the kind of warning unique to apex predators.

    Ember raised her hands in surrender, accepting that she wasn¡¯t going to get through to Carn in front of the others. As she turned back into the crowd, she looked at him one last time, watching as he lowered his eyes to the floor in shame.

    How the hell am I going to tell Naz that he¡¯s off the treatment?

 14: The Rogue & The First Rank

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Naz asked, leaning over her food to look more closely at Ember. ¡°You¡¯re sweating.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m coming down with something,¡± Ember replied, making a face as she downed a cherry tomato covered in bacon grease. It did seem unusually hot in the cafeteria, and her braid stuck to her neck uncomfortably.

    ¡°Are you taking the treatment on time?¡±

    Ember nodded. ¡°Of course. Once a day, just like my advisor said.¡±

    A moment passed in silence as the two ate their meals. Ember stole a glance at Naz, whose expression was gloomy as she moved her food around in circles. She had been stewing ever since Ember had broken the news about seeing Carn in the club.

    She noticed Ember¡¯s look and shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s a damn idiot,¡± she mumbled for the third time.

    ¡°He¡¯ll come around. It seemed like the other canines had some sort of hold over him.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they are notorious around here. But it¡¯s still his decision,¡± she said, stabbing at the prawns on her plate. ¡°If he gets sick it won¡¯t be anyone¡¯s fault but his own.¡± Her lip trembled slightly, and Ember groaned internally as she tried to think of a comforting reply.

    ¡°Attention students!¡± someone called, saving Ember from making things worse. At the entrance of the cafeteria was a woman in the dark green tunic of an officer of Mendel. She was commanding and well-developed, with long, blade-like arms and thin antennae. ¡°Excuse me! This is an important announcement.¡±

    Her serrated forearms and plier-like mandibles demanded respect, and the students fell completely quiet as she found a place in the center of the room. ¡°I¡¯ve received news of a rogue Linnaean spotted in the woods near the campus boundary. Their age, sex, and species are unknown, and we suspect that they may be capable of camouflage. They are potentially aggressive.¡± The room broke into nervous chatter, and Ember glanced at Naz uneasily, receiving an almost disinterested shrug in return.

    ¡°I encourage you all to take extra care when navigating campus. Don¡¯t walk alone, and avoid traveling at night unless you have an admin escort. That said, please don¡¯t panic: we have a team of specialists tracking the rogue, so they will undoubtedly be apprehended soon.¡±

    ¡°Was there an attack?¡± one of the students blurted out.

    ¡°No, just a sighting, so don¡¯t be alarmed.¡± Half a dozen other hands shot up, but the officer waved them away. ¡°I must go and aid the investigation, but if you have any more questions, feel free to speak with a campus official.¡± She strode back through the exit, ignoring the shouted questions that followed her.

    Ember¡¯s pulse thumped unsteadily in her ears as she watched the officer disappear. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much,¡± Naz said, ¡°this has happened at least once a year since I¡¯ve lived in Mendel, and the officers always catch them right away. They¡¯ll have trackers with thermoception on the case.¡±

    Unconvinced, Ember pushed her plate away, remembering the wolf who had gone crazy with bloodlust. ¡°Rogue¡­ what does that mean, exactly?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s someone who has succumbed to their animal instincts with the intention of committing a crime. It¡¯s different from living off the grid or going through bloodlust¡ªrogues usually want to hunt other Linnaeans, and they maintain some of their humanity.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not exactly comforting.¡±

    Naz sighed, her eyes dark with exhaustion. ¡°Relax. I¡¯m telling you, they will have caught him by tomorrow.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Remember to practice your diagrams of the plant vascular system,¡± Professor Tinsley said, gesturing to the chalkboard with one fuzzy arm. Her long, feathery antennae waved back and forth, picking up signals from the inside of the cavernous lecture hall. Ember scrambled to copy the rest of the diagram as she finished speaking, committed to maintaining her high grade in biology.

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    The professor¡¯s thin wings fluttered as she checked the sun¡¯s position through a gap in the ceiling. ¡°It¡¯s almost noon, so I¡¯ll let you out early. Class is dismissed.¡±

    The sound of shuffling filled the hall. ¡°Can Roland, Ember, and Wesley stay behind?¡± Tinsley added. ¡°I have something to discuss with you.¡±

    Ember paused midway through stuffing her notebook into her bag. Sure enough, the professor was waiting at the front of the classroom expectantly, and an avian with dense black feathers was already making his way toward the front. She swallowed, throwing her backpack over one shoulder and waiting for the stream of students to pass. Did I do something wrong?

    By the time she had gathered her courage, the professor and the other two students¡ªthe avian and a Linnaean of an unknown class¡ªwere already carrying on a conversation. Heat rose to her face as she came up behind them.

    ¡°Oh! Welcome, Ember,¡± Tinsley said, and Ember started slightly; up close, her features were disproportionate and distinctly insectile, not as petite and lovely as they had seemed at a distance. The other two Linnaeans nodded in greeting, although the avian¡¯s gaze seemed to linger a little too long.

    ¡°Thank you for coming,¡± the professor added. ¡°I¡¯ve asked to talk to you three because you have the highest scores in my class. I know it¡¯s only been a month, but the first exam is usually a good indicator of my students¡¯ ability. That¡¯s why I believe you might be interested in pursuing higher education in biology.¡±

    Ember blinked. Not once had she considered what she might do after finishing her degree. The avian, on the other hand, was smirking smugly as if he had expected nothing less. ¡°I know this might be sudden, but I¡¯d like to invite all three of you to tour one of the university¡¯s biology labs. You¡¯ll be able to talk to some of the scientists there and learn about the opportunities in the field. It¡¯s a good way to make connections for recommendations or internships.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m interested,¡± the avian said, gesturing with one hand as if it was a given. ¡°When will it be?¡±

    ¡°How about in three days¡¯ time, on Saturday? I know there¡¯s been some concern about the rogue, so I¡¯ll escort you personally. Are each of you interested?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± the two male students asserted, and Ember nodded reservedly.

    ¡°Excellent. Please meet me at this building at nine AM sharp. I have to head to my next lecture, but congratulations to the three of you.¡±

    Tinsley began to gather her papers and Ember turned to leave the hall with a small smile on her face. At least those extra hours of study paid off. I wish I could share this with my father. She passed through the exit and made her way back to the unaffiliated dorm, daydreaming about what the laboratory might be like.

    Despite the bad news about the rogue, Ember found herself in a surprisingly good mood. It was a pleasant day, warm and mildly breezy, and the rain the night before had brought out the forest¡¯s brightest colors.

    Pit pat. The sound of footsteps made her slow, and she looked to one side to see the avian who had met with her and the professor walking alarmingly close by. As their eyes met, he developed an odd, twisted expression¡ªthe feathers at the back of his head stood erect, and his sharp orange eyes regarded her intensely.

    A strange, deeply unsettlingly feeling bubbled within Ember¡¯s chest. She stepped to her right, putting space between them. ¡°Can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, ¡±he said. ¡°What species are you?¡±

    Ember felt an inexplicable urge to lie. ¡°A boar,¡± she said smoothly, ¡°Sus scrofa.¡±

    He tilted his head sharply. ¡°Uh-huh. So you¡¯re ranked second in this class, and third overall?¡±

    ¡°... That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m first.¡±

    The two stared at each other. The tension grew between them, threatening to overwhelm Ember. She looked around, checking if anyone else was nearby. It¡¯s almost lunchtime, so the other classes have to let out soon¡­

    ¡°Okay,¡± she acknowledged. ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    ¡°Are you new around here?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your business.¡±

    The avian¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°There¡¯s no need to get worked up.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking a lot of questions.¡±

    He leaned in, and Ember realized that each of his fingertips ended in a razor-sharp talon. ¡°There¡¯s something about you, that¡¯s all, and I intend to find out what.¡± She shivered, wishing that she had some sort of weapon. If he comes any closer, I¡¯ll kick him in the groin and run. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re a pig?¡±

    As Ember primed her kicking leg, a flood of students appeared down the path. The avian looked away from Ember¡¯s face with a startled expression as if he had been in some sort of trance. ¡°My name¡¯s Roland,¡± he said stiffly, ¡°I¡¯ll see you on Saturday.¡± Throwing her one last stare, he turned and took off in the opposite direction.

    Ember kept careful watch on his plumage until it disappeared around the corner, then took a handful of shaky breaths.

    What¡­ what was that all about?

 15: The Scientific Method

    It was a quiet and dewy morning when Ember began the walk from the unaffiliated dorm to the biology classroom. She pulled her sweater tightly around her shoulders, taking a breath of the crisp air and trying to calm the nervous fluttering of her heart. She preferred these early hours, when the campus seemed frozen in time other than the movement of the forest creatures.

    A handful of administrators was the only reminder of the threat of the rogue, who had yet to be caught or seen since the initial announcement. Despite the officer¡¯s warning, Naz¡¯s reassurance and the relative safety of the trail made Ember comfortable enough to make the trip alone. Still, the empty classrooms were almost ghostly, and as she passed an open door she thought she glimpsed the glowing eyes of some animal hiding under a desk.

    Professor Tinsley and the two male students had already gathered outside of the biology building when Ember arrived. She greeted the three of them, thanking the professor for the opportunity and avoiding Roland¡¯s penetrating stare.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you all could make it,¡± Tinsely said, clapping her hands together in a manner all too enthusiastic for the early morning. ¡°The scientists at the laboratory have set aside three hours for your visit, and you should each have some one-on-one time to ask your questions. The lab is about thirty minutes away, so let¡¯s head out now. If we¡¯re a little early, we might get to see them in action.¡±

    The professor started up the trail with the three students following behind her like obedient ducklings. Her short, teardrop-shaped wings glistened in the budding sunlight, and Ember found herself gazing at them appreciatively. Before coming to Mendel, her only reference for insects had been the farm¡¯s pests and Ciradyl¡¯s cockroaches, but she¡¯d come to view them as animals in their own right.

    Yellow-splotched leaves crunched underfoot as they passed underneath the great trees, a reminder that the true fall season was beginning. They turned away from the main path and onto a game trail, and the already minimal civilization devolved into true wilderness. The underbrush grabbed at Ember¡¯s legs, and a bellow in the distance made her hurry behind the professor. Above, a troop of miniature, reddish-brown monkeys chittered in the tree canopy.

    ¡°Your name is Ember, right?¡± someone asked, and she turned to see the underdeveloped male student who had placed third in the biology class. She nodded, and he held out his hand to shake. ¡°I¡¯m Wesley. Are you excited for today?¡±

    His question hung in the air as Ember gripped his hand. Its texture was jarringly peculiar: gelatinous and almost slimy. It wasn¡¯t until he drew back and repeated his question that she refocused. ¡°Yes¡­ I¡¯m excited, but I don¡¯t know what to expect.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I forget to warn you. The slime¡¯s non-toxic, I promise.¡±

    A vein pulsed in Ember¡¯s neck. ¡°What species are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an earthworm.¡±

    She tilted her head. ¡°It¡¯s my first time meeting a vermes. Where is your dorm?¡±

    He pointed at the ground between his feet. ¡°There¡¯s an underground complex on the north side of campus.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it claustrophobic?¡±

    ¡°It was at first, but now I find it comfortable, and I¡¯ve heard that it helps the parasitic species feel more at home.¡±

    Ember concealed a grimace. Although she wanted to avoid prejudice, the thought of a parasitic Linnaean was inherently unappealing, and she said a quick prayer to whatever god might exist that her development would steer clear of the vermes class altogether.

    As she opened her mouth to respond non-committedly, she was distracted by the feeling of being watched. She looked ahead just in time to see Roland whip back around, and the uneasy feeling spread across her stomach again. ¡°Hey,¡± she said under her breath, ¡°do you happen to know what species he is?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he hardly shuts up about it. He¡¯s a black hawk-eagle and a fighting prot¨¦g¨¦. Why?¡±

    So that¡¯s the reason for all of his confidence. Ember shook her head, filing away the information and deciding to focus on the field trip for the time being. The rest of the walk passed in anticipatory silence, and it wasn¡¯t long until the laboratory materialized between two massive fir trees. It was a squat building, made entirely of brick with large glass windows. Lichen and vines had attached to its surface, giving it an almost fantastical aura. The professor pulled open the heavy wooden door, ushering them inside and whispering a few words of encouragement.

    To her surprise, Ember found herself not in the laboratory itself, but in a smaller sub-room. The smell of pine and moss disappeared, replaced by something bitter and antiseptic. Ahead was a pair of glass doors through which she could see Linnaeans in long white coats bustling around workstations.

    ¡°Wash your hands here,¡± Tinsley said, directing them to a copper pipe that dripped into a basin. The three students obliged, scrubbing their hands with a square block of soap and rinsing them off in the cool water. Then, they wiped off their shoes and donned lab coats of their own. Ember turned to either side, enjoying the feeling of the dense material against her skin and her newfound sense of authority. Once everyone had been thoroughly sanitized and outfitted, Tinsely opened the door to the main room.

    Almost immediately, Ember was inundated with new smells and sensations. While most of the buildings in Mendel made use of natural skylights, the lab was lit by gas lanterns that cast a yellow glow. The main room was metallic and bare, a stark contrast to the forest outside. There was unfamiliar equipment everywhere she looked: rows of glassware and chemicals lined each station, wide sinks sat against the opposite wall, and showerheads hung down from the rafters.

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    A half-dozen scientists with glass goggles moved between the tables, looking through microscopes and jotting their observations down in grid paper journals. As Ember watched, one of the researchers dropped a flake of blue-green fungus into a shallow glass dish, eliciting a puff of vapor.

    Professor Tinsely excused herself, promising to pick them up in three hours'' time. A moment later, one of the scientists broke away from his station to greet the students. He was a silver-scaled pisces, tall and thin with a set of gills on either side of his neck. ¡°Welcome to the Burbank biology lab,¡± he said, ¡°I am Dr. Veige, vice president of this department and your guide for the day. For our first hour, I¡¯ll take you on a tour, so please follow me.¡±

    The three students went with him eagerly as he stopped at each point of interest. The lab had been designed with efficiency in mind, with each piece of equipment placed logically to form a cohesive whole. As Dr. Veige showed them the fume hoods, emergency eyewashes, and decontamination apparatuses, Ember couldn¡¯t help but think of Wentworth¡¯s lab, which had been a dank and dirty afterthought. Once again she was confronted with one of her own misconceptions¡ªalthough Linnaeans might choose to live intimately with nature, they were far more technologically advanced than Ciradyl.

    The group¡¯s final stop was at one of the middle stations, where an active experiment was taking place. A scientist with black and white striped hide was crouched in front of a row of glass beakers, wearing a mask and a glass shield fitted tightly over her face. She looked up as the group approached and directed them to stand back.

    ¡°This beaker contains ten milliliters of wood-ant venom,¡± she said, gesturing to a small glass of clear liquid. ¡°This particular sample was gathered from a young Linnaean, whose issues controlling his venom glands just landed one of his classmates in the hospital. I want you to watch what happens when this solution comes into contact with copper.¡±

    She pinched a thin piece of wire between her gloved fingers and dropped it into the beaker. After only a second, the mixture began to bubble and fizz, forming a thin cloud of vapor that dissipated right above the surface. The wire bounced around vigorously, hitting the glass walls like a frantic fly trapped inside a jar.

    The scientist checked her timepiece regularly, jotting notes at each interval. By the five-minute mark, the wire had darkened in color and diminished to half its original diameter. ¡°As you can see,¡± she said, ¡°the venom from this particular individual has a potent acidic component. You can imagine what it did to his poor classmate¡¯s eyes.¡±

    Ember shared a horrified look with Wesley. ¡°Are you saying that a Linnaean produced a substance that can dissolve metal?¡°

    She nodded. ¡°It seems that way.¡±

    The students shook their heads in amazement as the scientist resumed her work. With a slight smile, Dr. Veige led them to a quiet area of the laboratory to give them their next directions. ¡°At this point,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m going to allocate each of you to a researcher for some hands-on experience. Feel free to ask them any of your questions.¡±

    Ember was the first to be assigned. Her station was located in the back left corner, where a scientist with a distinctly feline countenance was working with a series of microscopes. His long, tufted ears tilted back as he peered through an eyepiece, muttering observations to himself.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Ember said shyly. ¡°I was told I¡¯ll be working with you for the next hour.¡±

    He looked up from his work with a startled expression. ¡°Yes, yes,¡± he grinned, displaying a set of canines that rivaled Carn¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m Dr. Shire, and my specialty is microbiology. Do you have any questions?¡±

    ¡°I have a lot, actually.¡± Ember nodded, closing her eyes as she recalled the constant confusion of the last month and a half. Thoughts of mutations, the treatment, and bloodlust came to mind, but it was the uncertainty of her origins that won out in the end. ¡°I suppose that what I want to know most of all is where the affliction comes from.¡±

    Dr. Shire whistled. ¡°Jumping straight into it, are we? Well, do me a favor and look into the second microscope.¡±

    Cautiously, Ember crouched down to peer into the eyepiece. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that she was looking at a structure made entirely of tiny, interconnected blobs. ¡°These are animal cells, right?¡± she said without looking up. Even her teachers at Wentworth had possessed a basic knowledge of cell theory, though it was much more rudimentary than what she had learned in Mendel.

    ¡°Yes. Do you see the dark spots inside the cells? Those are the nuclei.¡± Ember squinted, and sure enough, each of the cells had a chia-seed-shaped speck near its center. ¡°Within the nucleus is DNA, which contains our genetic information and controls how our body functions.¡±

    ¡°Then the affliction must come from the genetic code.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s not so simple,¡± Shire said, holding up a finger. ¡°Approximately fifty percent of our DNA comes from each parent. But the strange thing is that each Linnaean starts out with a fully human phenotype.¡±

    Ember frowned, feeling more confused than before they¡¯d started talking. Seeing her expression, the researcher pulled a scrap piece of paper from a pocket in his lab coat and drew two images: an intact ladder and a ladder split in half lengthwise. ¡°You can think of DNA like this,¡± he said. ¡°There are two strands that fit together. Since cells come from other cells, these strands must be copied for the body to develop and maintain life. It¡¯s during this process that the error occurs.

    ¡°First, the intact ladder is split into two parts. Then, an enzyme¡ªcalled polymerase¡ªbuilds a new strand on top of the old one, using a pairing system. For Linnaeans, instead of following the pattern, the polymerase inserts a few nucleotides out of order. That is to say, the new DNA is not that of a human, but of some other organism. And when the cells replicate, this error spreads.¡±

    Ember¡¯s head spun as she tried to make sense of it. ¡°But why?¡± she asked. ¡°Why would our cells just start producing the DNA of an animal instead of a human?¡±

    Dr. Shire shrugged. ¡°Honestly, we don''t know. Our technology is still limited, so most of this is just theoretical. The trigger could be an error in a gene, something environmental, or a foreign pathogen like a virus or a pollutant. But since the cause is uncertain, we can¡¯t cure or prevent the affliction, only slow and manage it.¡±

    Ember paused, digesting the implications of what she¡¯d learned as though they were a particularly hardy meal. Horns, wings, fangs¡­ they¡¯re not a curse from god, but a real, biological condition. Never had the affliction felt so tangible, and suddenly she wanted to know more, an interest that gnawed at her belly and whispered in her ear.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, gripping and shaking Shire¡¯s hand.

    He chuckled, and his pale eyes danced with amusement. ¡°Your professor was right; one day, you might be a good addition to this lab. Now, do you have any more questions?¡±

 16: The House of Canidae

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to listen to you with that look on your face,¡± Ember said.

    Naz huffed, and her already steaming expression darkened further. ¡°He¡¯d better listen.¡±

    With a defeated sigh, Ember turned to face the entrance to the mammalia dorm, a pathway bordered by snowy-white aspens. Beyond was a conglomeration of smaller structures, stacked against each other and interspersed with vegetation. Platforms and rope ladders lined the trees, leading to houses for the arboreal species. It was a feat of environmental engineering, but Naz took off down the path before Ember could really admire it.

    The usually gentle pisces walked purposefully through the complex, leading Ember down steps, under tree roots, and over raised bridges. With every ounce of her usual shyness converted to anger, she was a force to be reckoned with, and her inflamed stomping earned them a few odd looks.

    They finally stopped in front of a multi-story wooden building that used two trees as support. ¡°This is where the male canines stay,¡± Naz spat, and before Ember could say anything she raised her fist and knocked.

    A Linnaean with yellow fur and floppy ears pulled the door open, tilting his head as he considered them. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°We need to speak with Carn,¡± Naz replied.

    He shrugged, gesturing inside. ¡°If you say so. He¡¯s upstairs, first door on the left.¡±

    Ember stepped reluctantly over the threshold. The inside of the house was unclean, with half-eaten food and bottles of alcohol strewn about the living areas. A handful of Linnaeans reclined on a straw-stuffed couch, smoking something green wrapped in a paper roll. Ember recognized several of them from the club, and they eyed her suspiciously¡ªbut, luckily, they seemed too preoccupied to physically intervene.

    Naz kicked a pile of dirty clothes aside and headed up the stairwell. The door to Carn¡¯s room was slightly ajar, and they opened it without knocking, startling him and his roommate. Naz stopped in the doorway, staring at Carn, and Ember indicated for the other canine to leave with a jerk of her head.

    Carn sat up in bed, his face flushed and feverish. ¡°You look terrible,¡± Ember commented.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    Naz stalked over to scrutinize him more closely. ¡°So it¡¯s true¡­ you¡¯re off the treatment.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just sick.¡±

    She let out a strained laugh, looking around the room in disdain. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Why would you risk your life for this?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand anything,¡± Carn snapped. ¡°This pack is my family. Besides, the counselors prescribe us way more treatment than we actually need. Do you think the athletes would be that developed if they followed those guidelines?¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re not an athlete,¡± Ember said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s clearly making you ill.¡±

    ¡°Maybe this is what it takes.¡±

    ¡°What if you¡¯re caught?¡± Ember asked, ¡°You¡¯ll be expelled.¡±

    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± Naz interjected. ¡°We can help you. If you talk to an advisor now, you¡¯ll have medical amnesty. They¡¯ll prescribe you a higher dose of the treatment to stop things from progressing further.¡±

    ¡°For the last time, I don¡¯t need help! Can both of you just shut up?¡±

    A slap rang out as Naz hit Carn across the face. Ember stepped forward, gently pinning her arms down. ¡°Come on, this isn¡¯t like you,¡± she murmured.

    Carn turned to face them slowly, his cheek already swelling in the shape of a handprint. ¡°You need to leave.¡±

    Naz stared at him with disbelieving eyes, then turned her back and walked slowly toward the door. Ember watched her worriedly, knowing that the interaction must have left her in shambles. She stepped closer to Carn, lowering her voice. ¡°Look, I know we haven¡¯t known each other for a long time. But Naz sees you as family. If you let her go now, she might not forgive you.¡±

    He shook his head slowly. ¡°I need this.¡±

    Ember held his gaze steadily. ¡°Then I hope you can make peace with your choice.¡± She turned and left the room, looping Naz¡¯s arm in her own on the way out.

    Their trek back through the dorm was subdued. Naz trembled in Ember¡¯s grasp, her face downcast with dejection and rage. They stopped at the pathway of aspen trees. ¡°Let me walk you to your dorm,¡± Ember said. ¡°It¡¯s not safe to cross the forest alone.¡±

    ¡°W-will you stop with that?¡± Naz asked, her voice shaking as she tried to hold it together. ¡°It¡¯s been a week; I¡¯d bet that the rogue sighting was a hoax to begin with.¡±

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    Ember sighed, seeing straight through her friend¡¯s pretended courage. ¡°Come on,¡± she said evenly. ¡°I¡¯m going back with you, and that¡¯s that.¡±

    ***

    Ember''s stomach lurched as she looked down the tree trunk at the hundred-foot drop. ¡°You¡¯re only halfway to the canopy!¡± Hickory bellowed from somewhere above. ¡°You won¡¯t get any data from there!¡±

    ¡°To hell with him,¡± Morgan spat, her complexion unusually green. ¡°He¡¯s a goddamn tree frog.¡±

    Ember swallowed, gathering her courage and grabbing the next rung in the rope ladder. It swung to one side, scraping her knuckles against the ribbed bark. The harness that served as her only failsafe pressed against her stomach and legs uncomfortably, but she was grateful for the reminder that it would¡ªprobably¡ªcatch her if she fell.

    She pulled herself up rung by rung, placing each hand and foot carefully. Nothing existed but the fibers of the rope against her palm and the bark in front of her eyes. She counted each step in a desperate whisper, trying to establish a rhythm. It was rigorous work; her breath burned in her throat, and her limbs soon grew heavy with exertion.

    To her surprise, her hands touched not rope, but wood: she had reached a rest platform. She pulled herself through the hole, kneeling and making sure that the rigging was intact as she waited for Morgan. Not long after, the other Linnaean came up beside her, dry-heaving over the side of the platform and cursing Hickory¡¯s name. ¡°I¡¯m a land animal,¡± she groaned, ¡°I¡¯m not built for this.¡±

    She fell silent as she struggled to catch her breath, and for the first time, Ember allowed herself to broaden her perspective. The platform was dauntingly high: three-fourths up the tree, at least two hundred feet off of the ground. The tree moved underneath them, swaying and pulsating in the breeze. It was sunnier near the canopy, and the brightly-colored fall leaves glowed like a vibrant sunset. All around them was the chattering of animals, the rustling of leaves, and the sharp whistle of the wind.

    As she took it all in, her heart thumped inside her chest with a mixture of fear and elation. ¡°It¡¯s kind of beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Morgan whipped around to face her, appalled. ¡°You¡¯re crazy.¡±

    Without responding, Ember righted herself on the platform and gripped the rungs again. This time, she let herself accept her surroundings. She made every step with certainty, and soon, the swinging of the ladder and the upward motion felt almost as natural as walking. Each time her muscles started to shake again, she found another burst of strength to take her just a little higher.

    It seemed like just a moment had passed before her hands touched the wooden planks of the main platform. She pulled herself through the hole and stood up against the tree, disconnecting her safety line. Far below, Morgan was still fighting to reach the top, and on the nearby redwoods, many of their peers were struggling parallelly.

    The platform on which Ember stood wrapped around the tree about fifteen feet below its crown. She skirted the trunk¡ªwhich was at least twenty feet in diameter¡ªand took her first look at the aerial research station. It was a glimpse into the world far above the forest floor: an assortment of bridges, ziplines, and tree houses that spanned hundreds of feet in either direction.

    Although it was still before noon, a few Linnaeans were already checking nests and doing maintenance, as well as assisting Hickory in keeping a watchful eye on the students. For the day''s assignment, the professor tasked them with observing three arboreal species in their natural environment. It was relatively simple, explorative work, designed for them to experience just a portion of what the station had to offer.

    A rustling sound disturbed the momentary peace. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Morgan gasped, collapsing on the deck near Ember¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Ember teased, unclipping her from the rigging and helping her to stand up. ¡°Let¡¯s go west, to the edge. We¡¯ll see more animals with fewer people around.¡±

    ¡°The only place I want to go is down,¡± she muttered, but she followed Ember as she set off across the station. The path was precarious, more closely resembling an obstacle course than a workplace. They wrote down their observations as they went, stopping to rest and watch red squirrels chase each other across the branches.

    As they moved further from the center, the platforms became narrower and the crossings more harrowing, with some consisting of just a few pieces of foot-long logs strung together. Ember had to coax Morgan across, shouting words of encouragement and promising that they had almost reached their destination.

    The last gap before the edge spanned over thirty feet. A zipline hung just above Ember¡¯s head, the only manner of traversing the chasm. She clipped on the safety line, and before Morgan could stop her, she grabbed the trolley handles and pushed off the platform.

    She gasped as the metal cable bounced, dropping her a couple of feet and then propelling her back up again. The sound of metal grating against metal rang out over the trees, startling a handful of starlings from their perches. The forest floor sped by dizzyingly fast, far enough below that a fall would result in not only death but complete obliteration.

    The platform rushed closer at a breakneck pace and Morgan shouted a warning behind her. She raised her legs in a pike position, hitting the wood hard enough to feel the shock all the way up her body. She stumbled forward a few steps, gripping the trunk and the safety line to stop herself from falling over the edge.

    She doubled over, wiping her brow and taking a moment to calm her nerves. A burst of unmatched adrenaline spread through her chest like liquid fire. ¡°Come on, Morgan!¡± she shouted, ¡°It¡¯s all right!¡±

    Her partner looked at her from across the gap with her arms crossed. ¡°I¡¯ll just wait over here!¡±

    Rolling her eyes, Ember turned away from the zipline and looked to the edge of the station. It was slightly eerie¡ªno one else was around, and the series of platforms dropped off suddenly just past the nearest tree trunk. Nestled above Ember¡¯s head was a sizable tree house, accessible by a set of wooden steps.

    Curious, she climbed up the staircase and onto the short deck. The windows to the house were open, and inside Ember could see glass vials and insects pinned to corkwood. An insectarium. After a quick glance around, she grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. It swung outward too easily, and she realized that it had been left ajar.

    An uneasy feeling took hold in Ember¡¯s chest. Every Linnaean scientist she had met was particular about their work and would have never left specimens exposed to the outdoors. She passed through the doorway warily, ready to turn back at a moment¡¯s notice.

    It was dark and messy inside the room, and a jar that had contained a preserved stink bug lay broken on the floor. The tiny, beady insect eyes seemed to watch her as she stooped to investigate.

    She tightened her jaw. Around the pieces of shattered glass was a trail of dark red blood that led back the way that she had come. She traced it with her fingers, realizing that it was too much to have come from a simple cut.

    There was a struggle here¡­ and someone was seriously wounded.

 17: Lockdown

    Buzzz. Ember looked up, spooked, as a fat fly flew in a circle around her head. It slipped through an open window and disappeared between the branches, the only sign of movement in the vicinity of the treehouse. She shook her head, turning to leave just as the sound of footsteps came from the deck outside.

    She stepped back wildly, gripping a glass shard in her hand and pressing herself behind the door. As it swung open, she darted to the side and raised the shard¡ªonly to find Morgan on the other side.

    ¡°Woah!¡± The other girl shouted, holding up her hands in a sign of surrender. Her nose was twitching uncontrollably, and the scales around her shoulders were standing straight up. ¡°We need to leave,¡± she whispered. ¡°It smells like death.¡±

    Ember narrowed her eyes, considering it. Despite the sinister atmosphere, she had a feeling that the danger had passed. ¡°No. I think we need to figure out what happened here.¡± She slipped the shard into her pocket. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s find where the scent is the strongest.¡±

    The two stepped back onto the deck, and, with a disapproving look, Morgan pointed overhead. ¡°The source of the smell is up there, near the crown of the tree. But I don¡¯t think you should go.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Ember reassured her, her attention already focused on the branches above. With her jaw set in determination, she climbed on the deck railing, balancing like a tightrope walker. Grabbing the supports of the tree house, she boosted herself up so that the roof was level with her waist. Then, she swung her right leg to one side, hooking it over the rim and scrambling onto the sloped planks.

    ¡°Come down,¡± Morgan urged. Ignoring her, Ember scrutinized the branches below the crown, searching for a path to take her to the top. Two wide branches jutted out from the trunk, one of them close enough to be a foothold. Though the angle was awkward, she used it to spring up to the next level.

    Bit by bit, she neared the crown. The limbs grew thinner and bouncier, and she had to take care with the placement of each step. She was higher than she had ever been, suspended two hundred fifty feet above the forest floor. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she kept climbing, driven by instinct and the insatiable desire to solve the mystery of the blood in the treehouse.

    The smell hit her at the same time as the cloud of flies, penetrating and putrid. She gagged, clamping a free hand over her nose and mouth. Ahead was a nightmarish scene: a broken, humanoid figure draped over the fork of two branches. The exposed flesh was crawling with fat, black insects, giving it the appearance of re-animation.

    Entranced, Ember moved closer, startling the insects from their meal. Within arm¡¯s reach was the body of a youthful, orange-haired Linnaean with a long tail. Her skin was pale and blotched with purple, and her lifeless, blood-splattered face hung toward Ember, attached to her body by the few remaining tendrils of her neck.

    Ember¡¯s mouth turned sour as the image seared itself into her brain. Something¡ªsomeone¡ªhad hunted and killed the woman, not to eat her, but for their own pleasure.

    Horror-stricken, Ember rushed back down the tree and jumped onto the deck of the treehouse. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Morgan asked, grabbing her by the shoulders to steady her.

    It took Ember a moment to find her voice again. ¡°Come, quickly,¡± she forced out, ¡°we need to tell Hickory that the rogue has made its first kill.¡±

    ***

    The mood in the common room of the unaffiliated dorm was somber and funereal. The students sat in small groups with blankets wrapped around their shoulders, their faces drawn and tired. They had lit candles to stave off the darkness, and the dozens of flickering lights cast oddly-shaped shadows. Ember sat against the wall, her lips drawn into a thin line. For the first time, it seemed that Linnaeans were afraid of the dark.

    The manager of the dorm, Ms. Marmee, picked her way between the students to a spot near the center of the room. She cleared her throat¡ªthough the room was utterly silent¡ªand brought a scroll to her face.

    ¡°Today is a dark day for Mendel,¡± she sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sure by now all of you have heard that the body of a graduate student was found at the aerial research station this morning. She was murdered by the rogue that was first sighted a week ago.¡±

    The mood in the room seemed to intensify, and still, no one moved, staring at Ms. Marmee with rapt attention. ¡°I¡¯ve called you here to share the results of the latest briefing. At seven o¡¯clock this evening, a second body was found by an avian officer. It was an undergraduate student, a small mammal, who appears to have been killed on the ground and dragged into the trees.¡±

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    Shocked whispers broke out over the group, and Ember swallowed thickly, remembering the horrific scene at the station. A second body?

    ¡°T-the two victims were killed in a similar way,¡± Ms. Marmee continued, her voice wavering. ¡°The final blow was dealt to the neck, and the bodies were left suspended near the tree canopy. The officers¡¯ analysis suggested that the rogue is an arboreal and nocturnal feline. It seems to target mammalian species of small to moderate size.

    ¡°In light of this news, the lower division, upper division, and laboratories will be halting all classes for the rest of the week, and likely until the rogue is captured. The police presence on campus will be increased tenfold, and you are all encouraged to stay inside as much as possible. Undoubtedly, some Mendelians will try to hunt this rogue, but I beg of you, do not join them. As of now, none of you have the skill or prowess to face a highly-developed apex predator. So, honor the dead, and please stay safe.¡±

    ***

    Ember sat up in bed, rolling her sore neck on her shoulders. The light of the sunrise shone through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, painting the bedding yellow and orange. The first days of October had come quietly, forgotten in the commotion surrounding the rogue.

    She looked to her right, where Naz was curled up on a temporary mattress pad. She¡¯d come with a suitcase on the night that Ember had discovered the body, claiming that lockdown would be too lonely in the pisces dorm.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± Naz said, regarding Ember with her wide-pupiled, dewy eyes. Her face was gaunt and tired, evidence of the past five days they¡¯d spent inside while they received news of the rogue¡¯s kills. Two more bodies had been found, bringing the total number of victims to four.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m awake,¡± Ember replied, flopping back onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling. To make things worse, a gnawing sensation had developed on either side of her nose, promising to spoil her mood for another day.

    ¡°When is this going to end?¡± Naz groaned.

    ¡°How should I know?¡±

    ¡°How do you think Carn is doing?¡±

    Ember rubbed her temples. ¡°Don¡¯t do that. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°You know that¡¯s not true.¡±

    The two fell into silence. A spider scuttled up the wall and slipped between two wooden panels, disappearing into the outside world. Ember sighed, pushing aside the dull throbbing of her head. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get something to eat and then go to the bathhouse? I know you must miss the water, and we both smell foul.¡±

    ¡°All right,¡± the pisces replied, rolling onto the dirt floor with a huff. Ember threw a jacket over her sleepwear and rinsed her face in the sink, trying to wash away the last of the night¡¯s weariness.

    The two left Ember¡¯s room and padded down the hall toward the unaffiliated dorm¡¯s small dining hall, which was tucked underneath the roots of the nearest fir tree. Even though breakfast had started just half an hour before, the wooden tables were nearly empty.

    ¡°It looks like more students went home to their families,¡± Ember said, grabbing a pre-loaded tray off the kitchen counter. ¡°Have you talked to your father?¡±

    ¡°We exchanged messages a couple of days ago,¡± Naz replied. ¡°He wants me to come home, but I¡¯m still hoping that this will be resolved soon.¡±

    Ember shrugged, secretly hoping that her friend would stay despite the strained atmosphere. Before she could reply, their conversation was interrupted by a group of first-year Linnaeans passing through the entrance to the hall. They chittered like a flock of parrots, seemingly unbothered by the events of the past week, and set down their trays at the table closest to Ember and Naz.

    ¡°I heard the rogue is lying low,¡± one of the girls announced. ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a kill in two days.¡±

    ¡°What if we went out, then?¡° another whispered. Her two, half-formed ears swiveled from side to side conspiratorily. ¡°I heard about a party on the east side of campus. We can have the canines escort us¡ªthey sent a message that they¡¯d be going there tonight. You know, this time of year they test the new members.¡±

    ¡°That could be interesting,¡± the first girl agreed. ¡°If we all go together, there¡¯s no risk. Besides, the path is well-lit at night. We¡¯ll just have to avoid the patrols.¡±

    Ember set down her fork and stood up slowly. She took a few steps forward, placing her hands flat on the girls¡¯ table and leaning close to the stubby-eared Linnaean. ¡°What did you just say?¡±

    Though they were the same age, the other girl looked nervous. ¡°That we can go to a party, and the canines will take us?¡±

    ¡°Okay. And where is this party?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ it¡¯s at the abandoned equipment room, near the amphibia dorm.¡±

    ¡°If you want an invite, just ask,¡± one of her friends laughed.

    Ember stared daggers at her. ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot.¡± She turned on her heel and sat back down with Naz, ignoring the hateful glances that followed. ¡°Did you hear all that?¡±

    The pisces nodded, pushing her tray to one side. ¡°I have a bad feeling about this.¡±

    ¡°Should we tell someone?¡±

    Naz considered it, then looked down at the table with a frown. ¡°If we do, Carn might be expelled. Let¡¯s give him one last chance.¡±

    Ember frowned, realizing what she was suggesting. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±

    ¡°Please, Ember?¡±

    She threaded her fingers together as a feeling of trepidation sent a shiver down her spine. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll lend you an outfit if we¡¯re going out tonight.¡±

 18: Aggressive Mimicry

    Naz ran her knife over the sharpening block one last time, eliciting the drawn-out scraping sound of metal against metal. The weapon was different from the utilitarian knives that Ember had seen in Ciradyl and in the countryside, curved and claw-like. She gripped it by the leather-wrapped handle, slashing it diagonally through the air to test its sharpness.

    ¡°What type of weapon is that?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a karambit,¡± Naz replied as she sunk the tip into the wooden plank by the door. ¡°My martial arts instructors gifted it to me after I passed the first exam since it¡¯s used for self-defense, my specialty.¡±

    Ember looked at her quizzically. ¡°Then should I bring a weapon as well?¡±

    Naz shook her head. ¡°Just remember what we prepared, though I hope it won¡¯t come to that. A knife will do you more harm than good if you don¡¯t know how to wield it.¡±

    Ember nodded as the pisces strapped the knife to her waist. The all-black, form-fitting clothes that Ember had lent her covered the majority of the shimmering scales on her body, and she had let her hair down to conceal the sides of her face. Though she looked grim in the ensemble, her grip on the karambit was uncertain, and Ember had no delusions about her chances against the rogue.

    ¡°If he insists on going to the party, I¡¯m going to the authorities,¡± Ember warned.

    Her friend nodded, peering through a gap in the wooden planks. ¡°It¡¯s dark now. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Careful not to make too much noise, Naz pried the boards off of the window using her knife. With a small boost from Ember, she scrambled onto the sill and jumped to the forest floor. Ember handed her their hand-held paraffin lantern and then climbed out herself, propping up the boards behind her to maintain the illusion that the barrier was still intact.

    The two wasted no time in beginning their hike through the forest. It was a straight shot to the amphibia dorm, which was on the west side of campus, bordered by the Lion¡¯s Tail River. They slipped between the trees, using game trails to skirt the main path and avoid the junctions where they knew officers would be stationed. The night was shrouded in darkness: the moon was a waning crescent, and the cooler weather had reduced the number of fireflies to only a handful. It seemed as though even the animals had sensed the tense atmosphere of the last week, because the usually-bustling forest was unnaturally still. The young women moved quickly, saying nothing as the disquiet weighed heavily upon them.

    Naz grabbed Ember as a diagonal path intersected the trail that they had been following. ¡°Let¡¯s stop,¡± she whispered. ¡°If the canines are coming from the mammalia dorm, they¡¯ll have to pass through here.¡±

    She blew out the lantern, and the two crouched amongst the fallen leaves. The darkness crept up between them, turning the world dark and fuzzy, and Ember found herself wishing that one of her mutations had been night vision.

    The minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Branches rustled overhead, and Ember could hear the cracking of underbrush as larger animals moved somewhere in the distance. Her breaths came quickly and shallowly, feather-light yet too loud against the backdrop of the forest. Naz pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them and rocking slowly back and forth.

    It seemed a lifetime before the long-awaited sound of footsteps appeared behind them. Making its way down the path was a group consisting of the six canines that Ember had seen at the club, including Carn, and a handful of female students. They talked in loud whispers, snapping twigs with their heavy footsteps and playfully pushing each other toward the trees. They¡¯d brought at least three lanterns, oblivious or uncaring to the danger that light could bring.

    Ember cringed. Clearly, some of them have already had something to drink. It was a miracle that they haven¡¯t been caught.

    Stolen story; please report.

    The two friends pressed themselves between the tree roots as the group neared, keeping in mind the canines¡¯ keen sense of smell. Luckily, the unruly Linnaeans were too preoccupied to notice that anything was amiss, and the group passed by without incident. Ember and Naz exchanged a glance¡ªthey had no chance of talking to Carn with the others by his side. They followed close behind the group as it continued toward the abandoned equipment room, checking vigilantly for any sign of the rogue or campus patrols.

    After a few minutes of walking, the group inexplicably came to a halt. One of the girls gestured animatedly, starting an argument within the group. Ember and Naz stayed back, hiding just within earshot.

    ¡°She said that she was coming,¡± the girl snapped. ¡°She was supposed to meet us here.¡±

    There was murmuring amongst the other Linnaeans. ¡°I want to keep moving,¡± one interjected, pulling her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. Around half the group nodded their assent, while the rest seemed uncertain.

    The canine with disk-shaped ears held up a hand. ¡°Hey Carn, why don¡¯t you wait here for Maria? You can join us once she comes.¡±

    Ember frowned. The slight edge to his voice made his words seem more like a threat than a suggestion, and the timing of the incident was suspiciously convenient.

    ¡°Wait here¡­ alone?¡± Carn asked, looking to the other canines for support. Some shrugged and others looked down, seemingly disinterested.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the lead canine said smoothly. ¡°The rogue won¡¯t be interested in a mutt like you.¡±

    Naz muttered something, and Ember elbowed her to be quiet. If they discover us now, the rogue might be the least of our worries.

    As if in slow motion, the group continued down the path, leaving Carn behind. He stood in the center of the trail, watching them leave with his hands held out powerlessly. He fidgeted, holding his lantern up to the tree line and whispering a curse under his breath. Even in the low light, Ember could see that his mutations had progressed even further: his back had developed a slight hunch, his red fur had thickened over his arms and shoulders, and his forearms and calves had blackened in color.

    The fox paced a few steps in either direction, growing more uncomfortable with each passing second. He set down the lantern and picked it up again, squinting in the low light. An animal howled in the distance, startling him, and he looked longingly in the direction that his friends had gone. Ember and Naz remained perfectly still, cautious to approach him and content to watch him agonize for just a moment.

    A gust of wind blew, rustling the dry leaves. Carn raised his nose to the air, sniffing deeply. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± he growled. ¡°I can smell you.¡±

    After a wary glance at Ember, Naz stepped into the light. ¡°You again?¡± Carn huffed, but Ember could tell he was relieved not to be alone.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Naz urged, ¡°it¡¯s not safe here. Let¡¯s go back to Ember¡¯s dorm.¡±

    He tilted his head, appearing to consider her proposition, but soon dismissed it with a wave of his hand. ¡°This is the last test. If I pass, I¡¯ll be sworn in officially.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand?¡± Ember asked, her voice growing louder as she began to lose hope. ¡°There is no ¡®Maria¡¯, they staged it all to haze you. Do you intend to stay out here all night?¡±

    ¡°I-¡± he stopped suddenly, interrupted by a high-pitched chirp from somewhere between the trees. It rang out twice more, sharp and unwelcome, and then faded into the background.

    Ember twisted around in alarm. The noise was too loud and artificial to be from a rodent. She grabbed Naz¡¯s arm. ¡°We need to hurry.¡±

    They both turned toward Carn again: he was facing the direction of the noise with his ears pricked and his nose twitching. His lips were drawn up over his canines, and his tail swished between him agitatedly.

    Ember held up her hands. ¡°Carn¡­ calm down.¡± When he ignored her, she called out again. This time, he whipped around to face her, and she involuntarily took a step back. Like when he had stopped the bloodlusted wolf, the pupils of his orange eyes were reduced to slits.

    He pawed the ground, taking a few tentative steps forward. ¡°Don¡¯t do it,¡± Ember warned. She stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the woods, but he stared right through her. With a whispered plea, she reached out for him, but his decision had already been made by factors out of their control.

    With a snarl and a spring that marked the beginning of a hunt, Carn darted forward, catching Ember by the shoulder and knocking her to the ground. Naz grabbed for his legs, but he shook her off effortlessly, bolting into the pitch-black forest.

 19: The Man-Eating Margay

    Ember groaned, peeling herself up from the dirt path and pulling Naz to her feet. Another set of chirps resonated between the trees, punctuated at the end by the sound of Carn crashing through the underbrush. Naz scooped their lantern from the ground and lit a match, bringing it to life again. The flickering light illuminated her wide, fear-filled eyes and the line of blood that dripped from her split lip down to her chin.

    ¡°What should we do?¡± she whispered in a choked voice.

    ¡°We need to get help,¡± Ember answered grimly.

    The two turned away from the woods just as a guttural, blood-curdling scream split the air. ¡°That¡¯s Carn!¡± Naz gasped, and before Ember could stop her, she took off in the direction of the sound.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Ember cursed, rushing to catch up. Naz pushed forward, sprinting with the lantern swinging wildly in her grasp. ¡°We¡­ can¡¯t¡­ beat¡­ the rogue!¡± Ember panted. ¡°We¡­ need¡­ help!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time!¡± Naz snapped back. Despite her small stature, she was quick as a jackrabbit, and it was all Ember could do just to keep up. Bushes and low-hanging brushes slashed at their legs, tearing at their pants and slapping against the newly exposed skin.

    A second scream sounded between the massive trees, this time much closer. Naz turned sharply, almost losing Ember. She zig-zagged over roots and fallen limbs, pinpointing Carn¡¯s location with each noise.

    Without warning, the young women skidded into a clearing, stumbling over each other in their efforts to stop. The dim light of the lantern revealed the scene in segments. First was Carn, hunched over to their right with his ears flat against his head and his teeth bared. Dark blood gushed from a wound near his shoulder, splattering on the bed of leaves beneath his feet. A lean creature stalked opposite him, unmistakably feline with a speckled coat and a long, rod-like tail.

    The rogue turned, locking eyes with Ember. He wore no clothes, though most of his body was covered in patchy fur. His mutations, left untreated, were distinctly disturbing: his head was almost entirely that of a cat, complete with massive, void-like eyes. In another setting, his small ears and nose might have been endearing, but at that moment they were horrifyingly macabre.

    He licked his jowls, revealing inch-long canines. ¡°I wondered who was coming,¡± he mused. ¡°A pisces and a reptile, how astonishing.¡±

    ¡°Get out of here,¡± Carn panted, gripping the wound on his shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s strong.¡±

    Naz pulled the karambit from its sheath, holding it out by her thigh as she prepared for an attack. The fins at her forearms sprang outwards, forming blade-like semicircles.

    In the blink of an eye, the rogue darted across the clearing, a move so jarring that Ember nearly missed it entirely. He maneuvered himself behind Carn, gripping him by the back of the neck and wrenching his body upward.

    ¡°If anyone moves,¡± he said through his teeth, ¡°I¡¯ll separate his skull from his spine.¡±

    Carn whimpered, scrambling against the cat¡¯s body in a weak effort to take the pressure away from his neck. Paying him no heed, the rogue began to walk toward the nearest tree, holding the fox against his front and letting his legs drag across the forest floor.

    Ember¡¯s chest constricted as she watched the grisly scene. She recognized the rogue¡¯s threat for what it was: meaningless since he would kill Carn whether or not they tried to stop him. We can¡¯t let him climb that tree¡­ we have to stall for more time.

    She sprung forward without another thought, throwing herself against the rogue¡¯s back. He twisted around at the last moment, but Carn¡¯s body slowed his reaction time. His grip on the fox loosened, and Naz took advantage of the opening, darting forward and sinking the karambit into the flesh near his hip.

    The feline let out an ear-splitting yowl, shaking his body with enough force to send Ember and Naz flying into the dirt. He re-tightened his grip on Carn and shot up the tree, leaving the karambit lodged in place.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Ember muttered. Even carrying Carn, the rogue was able to climb vertically with as much agility as a squirrel or monkey.

    Ignoring her injuries, she leaped to her feet and approached the tree, a massive oak whose first branches jutted out from the trunk at least twenty-five feet above the forest floor. She touched the bark, wondering if she should¡ªor even could¡ªmake the climb. Near her feet, Naz let out a groan and sat up.

    Will we forgive ourselves if we do nothing?

    Ember swallowed. ¡°Naz, run as fast as you can and get help. I¡¯m going up.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The two locked eyes, and Naz pressed the glass vial¡ªthe only defense they¡¯d prepared¡ªinto her hand. ¡°Please be careful.¡±

    Ember stared upward at the tree, her body shaking with white-hot adrenaline. This time, there was no ladder and no safety line; if she fell or had to face the rogue in mid-air, there was no chance that she would survive. There were no real handholds, but the trunk itself was made up of thick grooves just narrow enough to grasp. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the bark, letting it cut into her skin.

    Her own body weight was a heavy burden as she scaled the tree. She clawed her way up bit by bit, resting for only a moment at each burl and hollow. The rogue had disappeared with Carn into the first cluster of branches, where the faint sounds of a struggle gave Ember hope that he still lived.

    Run fast, Naz, she prayed as her limbs burned. Blood dripped down her wrist, though she felt nothing.

    It was nearly five minutes before she reached the first cluster of branches, by which time the rogue had fallen disturbingly quiet. She climbed onto the first limb carefully, smothering her gasps for breath as they pushed at her throat.

    The air was still and lifeless, and without the lantern, it was too dark to see more than a yard in either direction. Stars danced in Ember¡¯s eyes, and she clamped her eyes shut, staving off unconsciousness. I have to find them¡­ I must¡­

    Her head throbbed. She pressed herself closer to the tree, beginning to despair for Carn and for herself. Then, inexplicably, something began to take shape deep within her mind. She saw¡ªnot with her eyes, but with a new channel¡ªa blob-like mass forming in the branches just five feet above. Like a beacon, it glowed yellow and red as it pulsed with heat.

    Ember¡¯s eyes sprung open. There they are. With newfound energy, she climbed as stealthily as possible to the fork where the rogue had dragged Carn. She pulled herself up so that she was even with them, and slowly, she skirted the trunk.

    She caught sight of the rogue when he was only four feet away. He looked up from licking his wound almost leisurely as if he had sensed her presence long before. He was perched atop a wide branch, and at his side was Carn, tucked against the side of the tree like a limp doll. Without taking her eyes off of the rogue, Ember took in her friend¡¯s dismal condition: his head was a bloody mess, and it wasn¡¯t clear at first if he was breathing.

    ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± the rogue said, creeping slowly to his feet. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find someone like you here.¡± Ember gritted her teeth, saying nothing. The creature tilted his head, looking her over with a penetrating stare. ¡°It¡¯s too bad you don¡¯t know what you are.¡±

    ¡°Go to hell,¡± Ember hissed, refusing to take the bait. The rogue threw his head back and laughed, an action as disconcerting as it was unnatural in his cat-like body. He stepped forward on all fours and leaned toward Ember. Her whole body trembled, but she held her ground, refusing to drop his gaze. In her peripheral vision, next to Carn, the blood-stained karambit glinted in the low light.

    Her chances, however slim, would hinge on the rogue¡¯s disdain for her. Closer¡­ come closer. He pounced, and Ember let him grab her by the arm, his razor-sharp teeth biting through her flesh like needles. Her back hit the trunk with a thump, knocking the wind from her lungs. The rogue tightened his jaw, sending waves of pain through her body, strong enough to make her cry out.

    Now!

    With her free hand, she yanked the vial from her pocket and popped off the cap. Even through the pain, she held her hand steady, inverting the vial and pouring the liquid over the rogue¡¯s head.

    The feline shrieked and released Ember¡¯s arm as the liquid gushed into his eyes and mouth. He backed up, clawing at his face. Ember scrambled to her feet, jumping to where Carn¡¯s body rested at the fork of the branches. Without taking her eyes off of the rogue, she felt behind her for the handle of the karambit and grabbed it with two hands.

    The rogue stumbled backward over a wide branch, putting distance between him and Ember. ¡°What did you do?¡± he sputtered.

    Her heart thumped frantically against her chest as she approached. As much as she wanted to curl up next to Carn, she knew that she had a small window before the rogue regained his vision¡ª the only time that they would be on equal footing.

    Blindly, the feline slashed at her. She dodged at the last moment, wind-milling her arms to regain her balance. The ground swelled up beneath her, fuzzy in the darkness. She grabbed a nearby branch with one hand and kicked at the rogue¡¯s face, disorienting him.

    For the next minute, Ember and the feline were locked in a desperate struggle. Bit by bit, they neared the end of the branch, hitting each other with haphazard, glancing blows. The rogue was more comfortable on the thinning limb, but he could not find another place to jump without the use of his eyes. Both Linnaeans were bleeding profusely, but Ember knew that the cat would outlast her in a battle of stamina.

    Grabbing the branch above her head for support, Ember bent her knees and jounced the limb that they were standing on with all of her strength. It bobbed up and down like a cork in water, threatening to dislodge them both. One of the rogue¡¯s back legs slipped out from underneath him, and at the same time, Ember stabbed at his face with the karambit. She missed, and the tip embedded itself in the wood, throwing her off balance.

    For a moment, both she and the rogue fought to keep their footing. Then, using the knife as an anchor, Ember managed to recover just a second before the cat. She ripped the knife from the wood, slashing at his face over and over.

    He dodged the first strikes wildly, but, finally, one met the flesh just below his ear. He reared back as a shower of blood sprayed them both. His other back leg slipped, and in a haze of pain, he toppled to one side, hanging from the branch just by his front paws.

    Before he could regain his senses, Ember slashed at his right paw with all of her force, cutting it clean off. He fell from the branch with a look of sheer shock, plummeting to the ground below.

 20: The Consequences of Battle (Arc 1 Finale)

    The rogue¡¯s body crashed down the length of the tree, snapping branches and sending leaves fluttering to the floor. He hit the ground with a resounding thump, face-up with his limbs bent at odd angles, moaning a discordant caterwaul that made Ember shudder. It was a testament to his resilience that he was still alive, though he would not be recovering any time soon.

    Clouds passed over the moon again, hiding the body from view. Ember took an uneven breath and turned toward Carn, saying a prayer to whatever god might exist that he was still alive.

    Cautiously, she crawled over to where he lay in the fork of the branches. He had been gravely injured: his right ear hung on by just a thread, and a long scratch ran over one eye. Still, when she brought her face next to his mouth, she could hear him softly exhale.

    Her shoulders slumped as the knot in her chest unraveled. Yet, a new problem was emerging: both of them were in serious danger of bleeding out. Remembering what she¡¯d learned in Hickory¡¯s lectures, she pulled off her overshirt, wrapping it tightly around the wound near his shoulder. She left the head wound untouched, afraid of worsening it.

    When she was done, she leaned against the tree trunk, holding Carn¡¯s hand gently. The heavy blanket of unconsciousness pushed at the back of her mind, but she staved it away by pinching the skin on her forearms. The mysterious headache and the sixth sense that had accompanied it had disappeared, leaving her blind to whatever other creatures¡ªbenign or otherwise¡ªmight be attracted to the scent of blood.

    Some time passed before the branches below began to rustle, startling Ember. She craned her neck to see a shadowy figure half-jumping, half-flying up the trunk. In her exhaustion, her scrambled brain struggled to make sense of the sight.

    ¡°It¡¯s you, sir,¡± Ember breathed as she recognized Corax. He was as uncanny as ever, angular and almost grotesque, yet she had never been so relieved to see anyone. She felt a burst of gratitude toward Naz, who must¡¯ve run swiftly despite her injuries to track him down.

    ¡°You did well,¡± Corax rasped. ¡°I¡¯ll take the fox.¡±

    Ember released Carn¡¯s hand and shifted out of the way. ¡°Will he be all right?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll live, but with one eye fewer, I suspect.¡± When Ember grimaced, the headmaster shook his head slightly. ¡°Do not pity him too much; perhaps it was a much-needed lesson.¡±

    How cruel, Ember thought as he scooped Carn into his arms. He hopped down from the branch to the nearest burl, gripping the bark with his talons. Even with the extra weight, he appeared to glide rather than fall, unencumbered by his lack of fully-developed wings.

    ¡°Ember!¡± someone called, diverting her attention from Corax. Below, Naz was running toward the tree, leading what must have been the rest of the rescue team. The combined light of their lanterns finally brought the world back into clarity, and suddenly Ember realized that she wanted nothing more than to be back on solid ground.

    Corax passed Carn over to the team¡¯s medic, who immediately set to work on binding his wounds. The others gathered around the rogue, tying his arms behind his back and pulling him to his feet.

    The headmaster briskly climbed back up the tree, settling next to Ember. ¡°Come now,¡± he said. ¡°Take hold of my cloak. I¡¯ll get you down.¡±

    Doing as she was told, Ember wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the feathers that poked at her through his clothing. He leaped from the branch, making her gasp as her stomach dropped out from underneath her. Before she could utter a word, he landed gracefully on a natural ledge and jumped again, reaching the forest floor in a matter of seconds.

    ¡°Oof!¡± Ember exclaimed, stumbling as Naz hugged her from behind.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t do anything,¡± the pisces whispered, her tears wetting Ember¡¯s skin through her torn shirt.

    ¡°You brought help, and we¡¯re all safe. That¡¯s what matters.¡± They both looked at Carn, who had been placed onto a temporary stretcher and hoisted between two of the officers. With the cloth bindings around his head already soaked in blood, he cut a worrisome figure.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± one of the rescuers interrupted, ¡°we need to bring you to the infirmary. Would you like a stretcher?¡±

    ¡°No thanks,¡± Ember said, taking Naz by the arm. ¡°I¡¯ll walk.¡±

    ***

    Ember stirred. Her body was sore and her eyes heavy. The bed was cool and comfortable, but it was not her own, and her brief rest had been feverish. As the reality of what had happened settled over her, she placed a hand over her heart as if to calm its beating. She had defied the rules, fought someone almost to the death, and watched as one of her closest friends was mauled.

    One step at a time, she told herself, sitting up in bed. She was laying on the last mattress in a long row that stretched across a dimly lit room. Her torn and bloodstained shirt had been replaced by a simple cloth gown. Almost unconsciously, she touched the wound on her arm, remembering with a shudder how it had been numbed and sewn with black thread.

    A Linnaean with heavy, curled horns appeared in the doorway, inclining his head when he saw that Ember was awake. ¡°How do you feel?¡±

    She closed her eyes, ridding her mind of the last traces of sleep. ¡°I¡¯m okay, I think.¡±

    ¡°Then, if it¡¯s all right, the headmaster will see you now.¡±

    Without waiting for permission, Corax emerged from behind the door, taking a seat on a stool next to Ember¡¯s bed. ¡°Forgive me for the disturbance, but I thought you might have some questions. Truthfully, I have some myself.¡±

    Ember nodded, surprised by his bluntness. ¡°How¡¯s Carn?¡±

    ¡°His wounds were serious, but he will recover. Thanks to you and the pisces.¡±

    She looked down at her hands. ¡°I¡¯m glad. Even if he did bring this upon himself, Carn is the sort of person that you can¡¯t help but root for.¡±

    Corax¡¯s dark eyes gleamed as he looked at her. ¡°By sneaking out, you and Naz broke the rules and endangered yourselves.¡±

    ¡°I know, but-¡±

    ¡°However,¡± he interrupted, ¡°you did Mendel¡ªand myself¡ªa great service by incapacitating the rogue. May I ask how exactly you did it?¡±

    A ghost of a smile flitted across Ember¡¯s face. ¡°Capsaicin oil. Naz and I crushed peppers from the dorm kitchen before we went after Carn.¡±

    Corax laughed. ¡°How wonderfully simple.¡±

    ¡°What was he?¡± Ember asked. ¡°The rogue, I mean.¡±

    ¡°A margay. It¡¯s a small wild cat that mimics the call of other animals to draw in its prey. Since your friend was off the treatment, he was susceptible to deception. That said, this creature was particularly clever. I suspect that he hid amongst the herds of deer to conceal his heat footprint.¡±

    Ember nodded, and the two fell into temporary silence. Corax picked at the tip of one talon, making a clacking sound that made Ember uneasy. ¡°Is there something else?¡±

    She hesitated. ¡°Yes¡­ the rogue mentioned something odd about my species. My symptoms have pointed toward cold-blooded animal, and during the fight, I experienced a sort of sixth sense. But I still have no idea what I am.¡±

    The bird-man narrowed his eyes. ¡°Ember, part of a Linnaean¡¯s development is discovering and accepting these things for themselves. Reptiles¡ªif that is what you are¡ªtend to conceal changes to their body in times of uncertainty. What is your goal here in Mendel?¡±

    Ember blinked, rubbing her knuckles absentmindedly. ¡°Well, there are things I want to find out about my family¡­ mysteries from my childhood. And I need to know that my father is alive.¡±

    Corax tapped his talons together in disapproval, but his eyes twinkled again. ¡°You must know that correspondence with the mainland is not allowed. However, if you were to journey to Ciradyl, whomever you brought with you would be in danger. Could you protect them?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Ember murmured, put off by his cryptic manner of speaking. Is he encouraging me to break the rules?

    ¡°When you want something, you need to take responsibility.¡±

    ¡°How should I do that?¡±

    Corax leaned forward, casting a long and wraith-like shadow over the bed. ¡°Strength, child. Strength and strategy. That will be the answer to everything.¡±

    Ember¡¯s brows knitted together as she considered his words. I¡¯m certain that he has his own motives, but maybe what he¡¯s saying is true. In the two months since she had been whisked away to Mendel, she had been passive, letting others dictate what she should do. In the end, only luck and a little bit of quick thinking had spared her from Ciradyl¡¯s guards, the blood-lusted wolf, and the rogue.

    I am tired, she realized. Tired of waiting for answers¡­ of being told no at every turn¡­

    She thought of the fighters in the hippodrome, powerful enough to shake the ground itself; the scientists in the lab, manipulating the laws of biology to their own will, and Corax with his spies, moving pieces on some invisible chessboard.

    If I climb the rungs of the hierarchy, will I be able to take control of the strings of my own fate?

 21: Level Zero

    Ember wiped the sweat from her forehead, resisting the urge to double over. Her whole body was fire-hot, and her mouth tasted sour, like acid. Her partner, an unaffiliated Linnaean with his long black hair tied up in a bun, was pale-faced and faint.

    Their instructor, known simply as Mr. Badger, took his place in front of the two rows of students and crossed his furry arms over his chest. He looked down his black and white-striped snout, scrutinizing them with narrowed eyes. ¡°Break¡¯s over,¡± he shouted. ¡°Jab!¡±

    With a groan, Ember reassumed her fighting stance, and her partner held out the leather target. She struck out with her left fist, hitting the target with barely enough force to jolt it. Her knuckles stung from the impact, and she knew instantly she¡¯d made contact with the wrong part of her hand yet again. With a shake of her head, she repeated the punch, being careful to keep her wrist straight and to aim between her first two knuckles.

    ¡°Cross!¡±

    This time, she used her right arm, thrusting it forward with as much strength as she could muster. Once more, the target wiggled only slightly, taunting her. She gritted her teeth, frustrated beyond measure at her apparent lack of improvement.

    The instructor called out the punches again as he walked between the students and corrected their form. Ember counted each repetition, willing this set to go faster than the last. Midway through, the burn of exertion crept from her feet to her throat, making each breath painful. Her punches grew sloppier until she was slugging away toward the leather, just hoping to make contact.

    Mr. Badger came up beside her, taking the target from her partner and holding it firmly at shoulder level. ¡°Fix your stance, Ember.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± she exclaimed sheepishly, realizing that she had been standing too squarely, making herself an easy mark for a would-be opponent. She took a step back with her left leg and turned slightly to the side, repeating both punches. Her fists caught the leather in the corner, throwing her off balance. This feels so awkward!

    ¡°Stop, stop,¡± Mr. Badger called out to the class, and Ember¡¯s face grew beet-red with embarrassment. ¡°I know you¡¯re all tired, but that¡¯s when your technique is most important. Our martial arts are designed for real combat, so they must be as efficient as possible. As beginners, you should always take the shortest path to your target. That¡¯s why we¡¯ve been practicing only these two punches. Does anyone know the difference between the jab and the cross?¡±

    No one answered, too exhausted from the two-hour-long training. The instructor shook his head, disappointed. ¡°In a traditional stance, the jab is performed with the left hand. It¡¯s a speed punch, used to test the distance between you and your opponent. The cross is a power punch, performed with the right hand. You can increase its force by rotating your back leg and hips. You must be purposeful with your movements!¡±

    Most of the class gave him a ¡®yes sir¡¯, except for a pisces who was busy throwing up in the nearest bush. ¡°You¡¯ve done well enough today,¡± he conceded. ¡°You can go home.¡±

    Slowly, the students dragged the equipment back into place. Ember said a quick goodbye to her training partner, Sam, who raised his hand weakly in a gesture of farewell. After a moment of deep breathing, she set about unraveling her wraps, long strips of cloth that were meant to protect the delicate bones in her hands. They were damp with sweat and slightly bloodstained, a reminder that her callouses had not yet developed.

    She shook her head, lamenting her lack of progress. Can nothing come easily? She was strong and fairly fit, with good stamina, flexibility, and balance. Why then, did she struggle with the most basic movements?

    SLAM! An impact shook the ground, emanating from somewhere in the distance. She walked forward a couple of steps and climbed a tree root to investigate. Though it wasn¡¯t visible through the trees, she knew that the training complex for the ranked¡ªthe real fighters¡ªwas just a quarter of a mile away. Unlike the outdoor mud pit that served as the grounds for the amateur class, it was vast and fully outfitted, a miniature campus in its own right.

    In her ten days of training, one thing had become certain: Linnaeans were crazy about combat. In addition to private coaching, the university and the city of Mendel offered training classes for terrestrial, arboreal, aerial, aquatic, and subterraneous species. Sparring matches ran constantly, and other than the massively popular division one tournament, there were two other circuits in which ranked fighters could compete.

    Then, of course, there was Ember: an unranked, amateur, bottom-of-the-barrel beginner without a single reliable mutation. Level zero.

    ¡°Ember!¡± someone called, and she turned to see Naz and Carn walking down the trail. In the filtered sunlight of the fall afternoon, the two were an odd pair. The slight pisces spoke quietly, walking gracefully with her sheathed karambit laying against her thigh. Next to her, the much taller fox navigated the trail with caution. In the two weeks since the incident, the wound on his side and the chunk out of his ear had begun to heal, leaving permanent scars. True to Corax¡¯s prediction, the medics had been unable to save his left eye and had left a white bandage in its place.

    Exhaustion forgotten, Ember grinned and jogged to meet up with them. Naz offered her a canteen of fresh water. ¡°How was your class?¡±

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    Ember grimaced. ¡°Brutal. I swear I have no talent for fighting.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get the hang of it soon,¡± Carn assured her. ¡°At least you¡¯re going about it the right way.¡±

    The two women exchanged a glance. Since the day after they¡¯d rescued him, his self-depreciation had been relentless. Although Ember was glad that he had finally come to his senses, she doubted that his new attitude was helping his recovery.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Naz said to Ember, ¡°we¡¯ll walk you back to your dorm.¡±

    The three set off together, moving slowly to accommodate Carn. The path from the training grounds to the unaffiliated dorm was a long but beautiful one, taking them near the Lion¡¯s Tail River and through the west side of campus.

    After the neutralization of the rogue, the Linnaeans had returned to the outdoors with fervor. The afternoon was pleasantly warm, and the semi-frantic animals and vividly-colored leaves made the atmosphere almost exuberant. It was a bustling hour, with students and faculty passing between the classes, dorms, and mess halls.

    Using a rope bridge, they crossed over the Lion¡¯s Tail and into the campus proper. Carn¡¯s ears perked up as they passed a set of classrooms, setting Ember on edge. Her eyes fell on a group of Linnaeans gathered at a nearby junction, whose poorly-concealed whispers were obviously directed at the three friends. It had become a common occurrence amid the rumors and speculation surrounding the rogue¡¯s defeat.

    ¡°Good afternoon!¡± Ember greeted the gossipmongers, loud and punctuated enough to make them jump. They scattered, leaving weakly mumbled greetings in their wake.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that,¡± Carn said, but Ember could tell that he was relieved. While most of the university¡¯s students looked at Ember and Naz with admiration, he had been the subject of their scrutiny and contempt.

    Ember shrugged, and the next few minutes were spent in silence. Around them, the structures grew denser and the path busier. About halfway through the trek, they passed into one of the campus¡¯s main squares, a large clearing where a cluster of giant mushrooms served as benches for eating and socializing.

    ¡°How is your studying going?¡± Naz ventured.

    Ember kicked a pile of fallen leaves, admiring her ability to redirect the conversation. Still, the topic wasn¡¯t without its issues: after the first exams, Carn had been put on academic probation, meaning he¡¯d be dismissed if he couldn¡¯t improve his grades.

    ¡°Not too well,¡± the fox replied. ¡°I missed too much¡­ it¡¯s like I¡¯m learning two months of material in a week.¡±

    ¡°At least we still have the weekend,¡± Ember said. ¡°We¡¯re moving you out on Saturday, and once I finish my study guides for history and habitat analysis, I¡¯ll be able to help you study.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± Naz added, standing on her tiptoes to put an arm around Carn¡¯s shoulders. ¡°We¡¯re in this together.¡±

    Carn smiled slightly, looking down at the path beneath his feet. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Ember bumped his shoulder, hoping to cheer him up. Though she hadn¡¯t forgiven him completely for what he¡¯d put them through, as far as she was concerned, his injuries and newly developed self-hatred were punishment enough.

    ¡°Look,¡± Naz said. The three came to a stop, fixated on the center of the square, where a team of students and faculty were erecting an elaborate memorial. Although construction had begun a week before, it was the first day that the centerpiece had taken shape: a wire sculpture of a woman and her companion animal, a small monkey perched on her shoulder.

    A somber atmosphere settled over the group, familiar from the weeks spent in mourning. Ember stilled, feeling her heart beat against her ribcage. Now, for the first time, the woman was recognizable as the body she¡¯d discovered with Morgan. She gazed at it, making an inadvertent comparison to the image of the ravaged corpse that had been seared into her mind.

    ¡°Hello,¡± someone said, drawing her out of her dark recollections. Ember huffed, slightly annoyed until she took in the woman¡¯s features: she was petite, with orange fur, small ears, and a long tail. All told, she was eerily similar in appearance to the rogue¡¯s victim.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Ember replied softly. Naz and Carn looked at her confusedly, and she held up a finger, indicating that she needed a moment. Her friends slipped back, giving them space to talk.

    The woman wiped her hands on her trousers, leaving behind specks of dirt. ¡°It¡¯s strange that you would pass through here today,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s the first time I came to see the memorial.¡±

    ¡°Another coincidence,¡± Ember agreed. ¡°You¡¯re her family, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The woman looked up at the sculpture with a forlorn expression. ¡°Yes. My sister was a pacifist, and research was her life¡¯s work. She spent day and night in that insectarium.¡±

    Ember stayed silent, unsure of what to say. She was aware that it must be acutely painful and perhaps perplexing to meet the person who discovered your sister¡¯s corpse and fought her murderer.

    The woman¡¯s eyes burned as she turned to face her. ¡°I am grateful for what you did. But no matter what she believed¡­ what she would have wanted¡­ I find myself wishing that you had not killed the rogue so that I could eviscerate him myself.¡±

    Ember clenched her teeth, stunned. The margay had been saved from a trial¡ªand in all likelihood, the death penalty¡ªby dying from his wounds mere days after their encounter. It was a reality that labeled her a killer, though she was not prepared to accept the title.

    Her expression must have brought forth some sort of realization in the woman because her eyes softened. ¡°Please, put little stock in what I say. Perhaps in my grief, I forgot that I was talking to a teenager.¡±

    Ember glanced away, finding Naz¡¯s eyes across the square. The pisces looked prepared to intervene at a moment¡¯s notice, a fact that heartened her. She shook her head slightly, indicating that she was all right. ¡°I¡¯m not offended. It¡¯s a beautiful memorial.¡±

    The tension dissolved slightly. ¡°I think so too. This weekend, the volunteers will thread vines over the wires, which will take hold and bloom with lavender flowers in the spring.¡±

    Ember closed her eyes, imagining it. Waterfalls of purple blossoms would trail from the sculpture, dotting the clearing with starbursts of color. By then, the leaves would be bright green again, and animals would be awakening from their hibernation. The sunlight would be new and warm, and the spring air would be crisp and sweet-smelling.

    ¡°Mendel will heal and grow,¡± she said quietly, ¡°as will we.¡±

 22: New Beginnings

    Ember dipped her quill into the inkwell again, carefully copying down the words from the history tome. A candle sputtered in one corner of her desk, on its last legs from the early hours of studying.

    She focused keenly on the dark and bold words, committing them to memory. Each of the thirteen major city-states, including Ciradyl, had its own ruler, manner of government, and spheres of power. The historical events were known only through the regions¡¯ individual cultures and dialects, making interpretation just as important as memorization.

    She wrote each name almost obsessively, taking comfort in the scratching of the tip on the paper. It seems arbitrary to be so anxious about grades after everything that¡¯s happened¡­ Yet, studying was something she was naturally good at and something that she could control. More importantly, if Corax was to be believed, making high marks in academics would bolster her rise through the rankings. Besting Roland¡ªthe black hawk-eagle who had tried to intimidate her¡ªwould be a welcome bonus.

    As she shifted to one side, light spilled over the page, announcing the arrival of dawn. She blew out the candle flame and set her notes out to dry.

    It was cool inside her dorm when she gathered her things and left her room, barefoot. The floor, wood-paneled in places and soil in others, was rough beneath her toes. She pulled aside the curtain to the bathhouse, releasing a torrent of warm and humid air.

    She stripped off her nightclothes and stepped into the water, sending tiny creatures scuttling to the deep end. The stone was smooth against her skin, and the water washed easily over her overworked muscles. She sank deeper, marveling at whatever apparatus was maintaining the water¡¯s temperature. Overhead, tree roots overlapped, forming a woven ceiling dotted with moss and lichen.

    At ease, she closed her eyes, thinking of her first morning in the dormitory. Back then, she had been so out of place that a single conversation had sent her running from the bathhouse. She had been afraid, bereft amid the broken pieces of her life in Ciradyl.

    The water stilled, and she looked down, meeting her own reflection. The sight startled her; Linnaeans as a race were not vain, and mirrors were a rarity in Mendel. She studied herself: the way her dark brown hair lay damp against her shoulders and neck, framing a face that, once round, was now angular. Her eyes, a muted green in the light, peered back at her pensively.

    She brushed a hand over her cheek, where the skin was taut and hollow-feeling like hide stretched over a drum. It was there that the strange ache sometimes originated, giving her glimpses into the infrared realm¡ªthe fiery hues of radiant heat let off by living things. It was her first significant mutation, but since the incident, it had come too infrequently and fleetingly to be of any use.

    Enough, she told herself, stirring the water¡¯s surface to distort the image. She rose from the bath, drying herself with a towel and changing into a simple set of pants and a hooded jacket. It would be a busy day, occupied with moving Carn into his new room, studying, and training, but she took comfort in the schedule. As long as she kept moving forward, the tasks left undone were not so unbearable.

    ***

    Carn held his knapsack close to his chest, looking nervous. Naz and Ember walked on either side of him, holding burlap sacks and dragging a moving cart.

    ¡°Have you spoken to the canines?¡± Ember asked, wondering what kind of reception they should expect to receive at the canine house. The fox had been lodging at the infirmary while his injuries healed, but after two weeks he¡¯d long overstayed his welcome, leading him to secure a spot in the main hall of the mammalia dorm. Unfortunately, however, the remainder of his belongings were still in his old room.

    ¡°Not since they left me in the forest,¡± he replied. ¡°I reported them for hazing and for being off the treatment, but it¡¯s difficult to prove, so nothing has come of it yet.¡±

    ¡°I heard they¡¯re under investigation,¡± Naz said hopefully.

    Ember shrugged, not expecting much to come of it. Carn himself had committed most of the crimes that he had reported, making justice a double-edged sword. To distract him, she held up three fingers, remembering what she¡¯d read from his notes. ¡°What are the three tenets of cell theory?¡±

    He rolled his eyes but played along. ¡°One: the cell is the basic unit of life. Two: all living organisms have at least one cell. Three¡­¡± he frowned, scrunching his face up. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±

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    Ember feigned disappointment. ¡°Cells come from other cells, during mitosis or meiosis.¡± He nodded, taking note, and Naz jumped in, quizzing him until they reached the final stretch of the path.

    Ahead, nestled between two trees, lay the wooden building that served as the dormitory for the pack of male canines that had caused them so much strife. Ember tightened her grip on the wagon handle, remembering the last time she and Naz had visited the house and the sting of rejection that had followed. From his downturned expression, Carn seemed to be sharing the same thought.

    They skirted the house cautiously. When they reached the front door, it was Carn who knocked, tentatively at first and then hard enough to shake the entryway.

    The three Linnaeans glanced at each other. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone is home,¡± he said, pulling the brass key from his pocket and twisting it in the lock.

    They waited with bated breath as the doors swung open. Ember stepped over the threshold and paused, taken aback. The interior was a far cry from when she had first seen it: polished and kept up, without a single flask or joint strewn over the floor. ¡°Looks like you were right about the investigation,¡± she commented.

    Carn mumbled his assent, but the stiffness of his shoulders and his twitching nose betrayed his uneasiness. They picked their way up the stairs, listening carefully, but the house was as silent as if it had been abandoned.

    With slightly more confidence, he unlocked the room and pushed open the door.

    ¡°Oh, god,¡± Naz whispered. Ember cringed; Carn¡¯s half of the room had been trashed. His bed and clothes were shredded, and what little belongings he had left behind were smashed to smithereens. There was a foul smell in the air, and when Ember caught sight of the yellow and brown-stained linens, her teeth clenched with anger at the canines¡¯ vindictiveness.

    Carn stood in the center of the room, cradling his knapsack as he took it all in. His expression was ambiguous, with his mouth drawn into a thin line and his ears pulled slightly back. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Naz said, throwing her arm around his shoulders.

    He shook himself, and Ember realized that he had already finished mourning the months spent in fictitious friendship. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, ¡°there¡¯s nothing here worth saving.¡±

    ***

    Ember took a sharp breath, hunching her shoulders and bending her knees. Naz¡¯s bony fist caught her on the side of the head, a clean tap that surprised her more than it stung.

    ¡°Not again,¡± she complained, backing up out of the pisces¡¯ range. They had been practicing slips and rolls¡ªskills used to dodge punches¡ªfor at least half an hour, with minimal success. Carn chuckled slightly where he sat in the nearby grass, a textbook open on his lap.

    ¡°You need to keep your eyes up,¡± Naz instructed with a slight grin on her face. ¡°I¡¯m short, so you might have to bend your knees more than usual.¡±

    Ember sighed, brushing the hair from her face. The pisces was faster and more skilled than her regular training partner, and in the growing darkness, it was difficult to read her movements.

    ¡°Again,¡± Naz ordered. She darted forward and sent two straight punches to Ember¡¯s head, followed by a hook to her body. She controlled her strength and technique carefully, keeping her sharp fins tucked close to her skin, but Ember reacted a fraction of a second too late. Scrambling, she turned into the punches rather than away from them, and without much fat to protect her, the blows promised to bruise.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± Giving up, she wrapped her arms around Naz¡¯s waist and lifted her, kicking, into the air.

    Carn leaped up, abandoning his studying to join in, poking the pisces¡¯ belly and tickling under her arms. ¡°Put me down!¡± she squealed, and Ember complied, dumping her unceremoniously onto her butt. She reached out as she fell, grabbing Carn by his legs, and the three collapsed into a pile.

    For a moment, Ember was lost within the mess of writhing limbs, unsure which way was up and which was down. It seemed a lifetime before she managed to separate from the jumble, hardly able to breathe from the force of her laughter.

    The friends egged each other on as the sun set, interrupting the moments of calm with poorly-concealed snorts. When they finally grew tired, they flopped on their backs in the grass like children let out to play. The area in which they lay was hilly and open, giving them a prime view of the sunset as it painted the horizon orange and purple.

    Carn stretched his hand up to the sky, spreading out his fingers as if to encompass all that lay above. ¡°Bayport, where I was born, is a divided city,¡± he said suddenly. He had rarely mentioned his hometown, so Ember and Naz quieted, listening attentively.

    ¡°There are precious metals in the earth and money to be made in the sale of fish, crabs, and snails,¡± he continued, ¡°so the merchants, metalworkers, and jewelers own fine houses. But for the townspeople and the prospectors that travel from the east, the winters are cold and the sea unyielding. They cannot swim, and they do not have the boats to fish or the skill for apprenticeship.

    ¡°To survive, they sell themselves or their children into the service of the traffickers¡ªthere is a slave market twice yearly for this purpose. It is a short life, one that ends with sailor¡¯s disease, frostbite, or the black lung of the mines. This is what I suspect befell my parents¡­ and many of the children at the orphanage who required extra care or expensive medicines.¡±

    Naz reached for him, but he shook his head. ¡°I was a fool,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Because I never knew my family, when the canines promised that I could earn a place in their pack, I wanted to believe them. Now I see that true kinship is not bought nor given so easily.¡±

    Ember turned to face him, hoping her expression conveyed what words could not. ¡°To new beginnings,¡± she said simply.

    ¡°To new beginnings,¡± her friends echoed.

 23: Luck of the Draw

    Ember pushed her chair back, gathering her papers into a neat stack and throwing her backpack over one shoulder. She walked down the long aisle of the biology lecture hall, passing students with their heads still bowed on the first page of the midterm exam. She was already calculating her score in her head, and even if she¡¯d missed every problem that she was uncertain about, it would be high enough to place her in the top ranks. The thought put a bounce in her step.

    Reaching the front, she plopped her test in the center of Professor Tinsley¡¯s desk, who gave her a small smile as she looked up from her work. Ember turned, dusting off her hands, and ran straight into another student.

    ¡°Oof,¡± he said indignantly, giving her a light push on the shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. Roland.

    Her body reacted immediately. She recoiled from his touch, and her heartbeat sped up, jumping into her throat like a dropped rubber ball. Her thermal vision flared, painting his head and chest a bright yellow. This time, she gritted her teeth, determined not to be overwhelmed. After all, compared to the margay, he was nothing but an inconvenience.

    The avian placed his test on top of hers, scanning her page as he did so, his expression unreadable. They walked toward the exit together, keeping an awkward amount of distance between them. Ember noted that although his gaze was still overly interested, he seemed warier than during their first meetings. Whether the change had come from her role in the rogue¡¯s death or from some physical development, she didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you at the training grounds,¡± he said as the door shut behind them. ¡°For someone praised so highly, your skills are underwhelming.¡±

    ¡°Strange,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯m there nearly every day, and I¡¯ve yet to see you.¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°I must have given you the wrong impression¡ªI wasn¡¯t training at those grounds. I was passing by on my way to the ranked complex.¡±

    His words had the desired effect, and Ember fell silent, realizing why he had been referred to as a prot¨¦g¨¦. Though she wasn¡¯t knowledgeable about the fighters¡¯ politics, she was aware that few freshmen were among the ranked. He grinned cockily, knowing that he had bested her. ¡°Come see my match,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m making my debut into the division three circuit on Sunday, in the arena.¡±

    ¡°Good luck,¡± she said, sarcasm bubbling up from beneath the surface. He shrugged dismissively, turning on his heel and leaving her seething.

    She shook her head as if ridding herself of the remnants of his presence. Even he could not take away the pride of having finished half of her exams with the certainty of high marks. Still, with Carn, Naz, and Morgan all testing, the rest of the afternoon stretched out like a lonely gulf. She looked forward to the day when solitude¡ªonce a comfort¡ªwould not bring forth memories of a rotting, gutted body, or the thunk of the karambit as it met flesh.

    She found herself jogging, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders uncomfortably, ridding herself of the pent-up anxiety from her exams, the encounter with Roland, and her ineptitude on the training field. It took her a moment to realize that her path was leading to the center of campus, to Mendel¡¯s library, where she could find a different type of companionship between the pages of a book.

    She was damp with sweat when she came to a stop on a wide, well-traveled pathway. Her breaths were heavy, and she pulled a canteen from her bag, drinking deeply. On either side of the path lay a bed of sweet-smelling clovers, and above was a canopy of vines that flowered pink and yellow. A handful of butterflies fluttered between the buds under the watchful eyes of green anoles and sparrows.

    Though there were some classrooms nearby, most of the area had been left devoid of construction, drawing attention to the area¡¯s centerpiece: the library. Like many of the buildings in Mendel, it blended into the forest itself¡ªa winding, towering-like structure supported by a trio of redwoods.

    A little tremor of excitement made its way through Ember¡¯s chest. The sight was straight out of the fairy tales of her childhood, unmatched on the mainland, where the trees would have been razed, the ground flattened, and the animals poisoned to make way for streets and factories.

    After cleaning her face with the rest of the water from the canteen, she hefted her backpack higher on her shoulders and climbed up the sloped path to the entrance. A torrent of students brushed past her as she held open the door, in search of a last-minute answer before an exam.

    The inside was marvelously intricate. Narrow staircases zigzagged from story to story, leading to hardwood walkways that bordered the walls. There was a gap in the middle of each floor so that standing at the bottom, Ember could see all the way to the roosts on the ceiling. Most spectacular were the books, which lay on richly-colored wooden shelves, in glass cases, and at miniature research stations tucked into the walls.

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    Through her history course, Ember had learned that books were one of Mendel¡¯s secret treasures. What hadn¡¯t been smuggled from the mainland was printed on the city¡¯s presses. The result was tens of thousands of hand-written tomes, papyrus scrolls, and textbooks with covers inscribed in gold leaf.

    As diverse as the books were the Linnaeans, some winged, others with horns, fur, or fins. They walked, glided, slid, and hopped across walkways and up ladders, books held close to their chests or sticking out of their bags. Some lay draped over railings with a pencil in hand, scribbling notes or engaging in whispered conversation.

    Ember climbed up the nearest staircase, letting herself be engulfed by the dull murmur of chatter and the warm light streaming through the windows. She bypassed the first floor and walked straight to the nonfiction section, where she pulled a familiar, heavy book from the first shelf. It was well-worn, with yellowed pages and a leather cover marked with grease from many inquisitive fingers.

    She set the book down on the banister, propping up her notebook next to it. On the first page was a running list of possible mutations, some with annotations:

    <ul>

    <li>Ability to detect vibrations</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Sensitivity to cold - coldbloodedness? </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Rejection of vegetables and fruits - carnivorous?</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Relative comfort when climbing trees - arboreal? </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Ability to sense radiant heat - infrared vision? </li>

    </ul>

    She frowned, reread the list, and then added a sixth observation.

    <ul>

    <li>Fight or flight response triggered by a black hawk-eagle.</li>

    </ul>

    Something about the statement seemed incomplete. She tapped the page, mentally picking apart each of her encounters with Roland. At first, she might have believed that their relationship was simply one of predator and prey¡ªher as the prey, of course¡ªbut he had seemed to share her discomfort during their most recent meeting.

    When no answer was forthcoming, she tucked her pencil behind one ear, searching the book¡¯s glossary for any terms related to infrared vision. It led her to the 400th page, in a chapter titled ¡°Beyond the Five Senses: Biological Abilities and Their Uses.¡±

    Halfway down the page was a short paragraph on infrared vision next to an illustration of a person glowing orange and yellow. Ember skimmed it, running her finger along the words to keep pace.

    Objects that are warm to the touch emit considerable amounts of infrared radiation. Infrared sensing, commonly known as thermal vision, is the ability to ¡°see¡± these wavelengths. It is typically associated with hunting, though it may also assist with thermoregulation, predator avoidance, navigation, and reproduction. It has been observed in some beetle, snake, bat, frog, and fish species.

    Ember considered the possibility of each of the spotlighted animals, turning it over in her mind like a morsel of food on the tongue. Her aversion to water ruled out the pisces and amphibia classes, and both aves and mammalia housed only warm-blooded animals. Vermes was a broad category, but very few preferred the treetops, and she found worms markedly distasteful anyway.

    That left reptilia, the reptiles; and insecta, the insects.

    She put the end of the pencil between her teeth, thinking deeply. Insecta was extensive and therefore nearly impossible to rule out. However, she doubted that any insect could threaten a bird of prey.

    She placed her palms flat on the table, looking up with a combination of surprise and relief. By her own reasoning, she had reached the same conclusion as the rogue.

    ¡°Reptilia,¡± she said aloud, testing the word on her tongue. Strangely, the idea didn¡¯t disgust her.

    Her eyes fell back to the paper, tracing a diagram beneath the paragraph. It was a crudely drawn, rough-hewn side view of a snake¡¯s face. Between its nostril and eye was a membrane-covered pit, next to which was an arrow pointing to a fine-print explanation.

    Snakes detect infrared thermal radiation using specialized pit organs.

    Carefully, Ember brushed a finger over the valleys on either side of her nose. If she pressed hard enough, she could feel the bone beneath, but a gentler touch met a shallow, hollow-feeling chamber. It was the spot where she¡¯d first felt the gnawing ache as the flesh rearranged itself.

    For a moment, she allowed herself to consider the possibility that her body had begun to produce the DNA of a slithering, sinuous reptile.

    She took the hand from her face. She felt calm, peaceful, even. Somehow, accepting that she was a snake seemed as natural as claiming to have two arms or two legs.

    She let out a long breath, shaking her head. How ironic. Just as wings were the symbol of the Holy Order¡¯s goddess in Ciradyl, the snake was the symbol of its devil. According to the priests¡¯ lore, it swallowed up entire families in the centuries before a wall was built around the city. Even in the modern day, it was not uncommon to see the creatures nailed to the thick wooden planks of a front door during days of worship.

    Anxiety folded her in its unwelcoming arms. What would my father think of me? She dug the canteen from her backpack and took a gulp, hoping to ease her nerves. What species am I? Will I be venomous? Will I have fangs, scales, a rattle?

    Then, suddenly, she remembered Corax¡¯s words. ¡°Ember,¡± he had told her, ¡°part of a Linnaean¡¯s development is discovering and accepting these things for themselves.¡±

    She gripped the leather of the canteen. As hard as it may be, she would have to embrace her source species if she were to move forward. Any moments spent worrying about others¡¯ reactions would be time wasted. Besides, in a way, she had won the luck of the draw. She wasn¡¯t a krill, an earthworm, a cricket, or a gazelle.

    She was a predator and a damn good one at that.

 24: Rolandéˆ¥æªš Debut

    Ember turned off her headlamp, emerging in a spray of dirt with Morgan by her side. Despite their sore arms and ruined clothes, they were both smiling. In forty-five minutes, they had successfully documented three weak points in the tunnels beneath the dining hall and reinforced them with a temporary plaster solution. It had been Ember¡¯s idea to add glowworm mucus to the mix, marking the compromised areas for the repairmen. All in all, for the first time, one of Hickory¡¯s practicals had gone off without a hitch.

    The young women handed in their documents, receiving a pleased nod from the professor. Morgan dusted off her hands, elbowing her partner in the ribs. ¡°We did it! Exam week is OVER!¡±

    Ember smiled, slightly embarrassed by her enthusiasm. As they turned to leave, Hickory cleared his throat. ¡°Ember, would you stay behind?¡± She exchanged a concerned glance with Morgan, then walked back to where the professor waited atop a protruding tree root.

    He folded his arms, accentuating his sizable belly. His moist, round eyes lazed from side to side as he considered his words. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he croaked, noticing her increasingly concerned expression. ¡°Your work is excellent, as always. I just realized that we had not had the opportunity to talk after the incident during the first exam.¡±

    Ember swallowed. ¡°Sir, it¡¯s really not a problem.¡±

    ¡°Simply put,¡± he said, ignoring her, ¡°I feel as though an apology is in order. You should not have been the one to make that gruesome discovery. It was my responsibility to thoroughly search the area.¡±

    Ember shuffled to one side, a little taken aback. For someone who frequently put his students¡¯ safety on the line, he was surprisingly earnest in his apology.

    There was a moment of awkward silence, in which she realized that it was particularly difficult to have a conversation when both parties were reticent. ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied stiffly.

    ¡°Well, if-¡± croak ¡°-if you ever need to talk about what happened, my door is open.¡±

    Ember paused. ¡°With all due respect, professor, I prefer to keep these matters close to the chest.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, I understand,¡± he replied, looking relieved. ¡°That¡¯s all unless you need something else.¡±

    Ember was mid-head shake when an idea bubbled up from her subconscious. So far, her training had yet to bring her any closer to contacting her father, while assholes like Roland were climbing the ranks. Perhaps it¡¯s time to act beyond the rules, as Corax suggested.

    She decided to take the risk. ¡°Actually, there is something. Would it be possible for me to stop by the Saline Lake again? I¡¯d like to visit a friend, but I¡¯ll need a raft and some air.¡±

    He leaned forward, looking at her carefully. ¡°Usually I wouldn¡¯t do this for a first-year student,¡± he said, and Ember feared he would deny her. ¡°But¡­ on account of your performance in my practicals, I¡¯ll write a note. I¡¯m trusting you not to do anything dangerous.¡± He ripped a page from his clipboard, scribbling a permission slip. She took it nonchalantly, slipping it into a dirt-stained pocket. Looks like good grades can be useful, after all.

    ¡°Thank you, sir. Have a good weekend.¡±

    ***

    Ember slumped a couple of inches in her seat, leaning closer to the person next to her. With his trunk-like limbs and plated shoulders, he was by no means a small man, and she hoped that she¡¯d be swallowed up by his presence. Unfortunately, he noticed the maneuver and looked down at her with a bewildered expression.

    She mumbled an apology and pulled her hood over her forehead, feeling sheepish. What would my friends think? She could just imagine Carn mimicking her, sneaking around with a hunched back and tip-toed steps like a petty thief. She¡¯d conveniently forgotten to invite them in order to avoid the spectacle.

    The arena was smaller than the hippodrome, but if Ember hadn¡¯t been waiting to watch her rival debut, she would have found it more compelling. It was entirely outdoors, with only a canopy of woven vines to protect it from the weather. In the center was a flattened oval about one hundred fifty feet long and fifty feet wide. Hard-packed white sand had been laid over the soil, presumably so that it was easier to follow the fighters¡¯ movements. It was already stained with fresh, bright red blood from the day¡¯s previous fights.

    On the ground around the arena¡¯s rim were a handful of medics, referees, and journalists. The rest of the patrons were seated¡ªor making their way toward¡ªstiff, bridge-like aisles suspended between the trees that circled the perimeter. The rows were stacked vertically in sets of three, accessible only by spiral staircases snaking up the trunks. There were twenty chairs in each, about half of which were filled, housing a substantial crowd.

    Ember listened carefully to the patron¡¯s excited whispers. ¡°I heard he trained with the Circling Eagle, master of the Apex Association,¡± a woman speculated. ¡°It would explain his explosive growth.¡±

    Her partner shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s just a rumor. The masters don¡¯t usually get involved with new or low-ranked fighters.¡±

    Ember swallowed uneasily, hoping that the man was right, and turned her attention to Roland¡¯s opponent. The fighter was already in the center of the arena, stretching out her legs¡ªof which there were many. They dangled in rows along her torso, spindly like a millipede¡¯s. Her skin was armored with overlapping, brightly-colored plates, and antennas sprouted from her skull.  There was an odd bulge around her armpits which Ember couldn¡¯t make sense of from her position in the stands.

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    As she glanced in Ember¡¯s direction, Ember waved slightly. I¡¯m rooting for you.

    Like at the hippodrome, as the time for the fight neared, an announcer mounted a wooden platform near the back of the field. He was dressed sharply in a bright blue suit, and dense brown fur sprouted from the sleeves around his wrists and ankles.

    He brushed off his clothes, shuffled his feet, and opened his mouth widely. ¡°Hmm hmm,¡± he cleared his throat. Ember jumped in her seat: his voice was unnaturally loud, comprehensible even over the sound of the crowd and the rustling of the forest.

    ¡°I¡¯m Howler, your announcer for ranked fights,¡± he began. ¡°Next up, we have our fifth match of the day. Let¡¯s hope it ends better than the last one!¡±

    The crowd laughed sympathetically, and Ember grimaced, remembering the blood on the arena floor. Howler checked his notes. ¡°Our debutant, Roland, has challenged Amina Lafleur, ranked 376th. Both are university students. If he succeeds, he will enter the ranked, and if he fails¡ªand survives¡ªhe will have to wait another year!¡±

    Ember narrowed her eyes, looking at Amina more carefully. There were around four hundred rankers between the university and the city¡¯s population. Since Roland had chosen to challenge her specifically, it meant that he was confident that he could counter her skills, and she would be at a disadvantage having never had the opportunity to spectate one of his fights.

    ¡°Amina is at center field,¡± Howler added. ¡°She¡¯s a fairly new fighter, and the only known Linnaean with her source species, the mantis shrimp!¡±

    Ember raised an eyebrow incredulously. That explains the legs¡­ but how can a shrimp defend itself from a raptor?

    The crowd cheered, and Ember turned to see Roland emerging under one of the suspended aisles. He was dressed in a simple pair of training shorts and a loosely-fitted shirt, but even she had to admit that he had a regal air about him. His intense, orange eyes looked into the crowd, and the black feathers around his head stood erect like a crown. His wings, broad and densely feathered, hung down to his calves.

    ¡°Here¡¯s our challenger, fashionably late, it seems. He¡¯s a black hawk-eagle, and only eighteen years old! This is our chance to see how he fares against a more experienced fighter, so place your bets now.¡±

    The announcer continued on, belting out the rules, which were the same as the division one match: no eye gouging, no puncture wounds through the heart or neck, no ripping of limbs, and no fatal envenomations. The fight would be won when either fighter forfeited, became unconscious, or could not continue due to their injuries.

    Both fighters agreed to the rules, shook hands, and took their places at the center of the arena.¡°You may begin!¡± Howler yelled.

    The opponents paced around each other. Roland¡¯s wings sprang open, ready to carry him out of danger at a moment¡¯s notice. Amina was the first to move, scuttling diagonally to close the gap with her many legs outstretched. She was faster than she looked, and Roland only managed to dart out of the way at the last moment.

    His talons glinted as he slashed at her, but they slid off of her armor with a screech. She pressed forward, dropping down onto her stomach to move even more quickly. Ember grimaced; the sight was distinctly reminiscent of a rainbow-colored roach.

    For a few seconds, Roland managed to keep Amina at bay. He slipped to the side of her attacks, battering her with his wings just before she could seize him with her legs. He aimed several crisp punches and kicks at her torso, but they bounced off uselessly, throwing him off balance.

    Seeing an opening, Amina reared up onto her two human legs again. Almost too quickly for Ember¡¯s eyes to follow, two heavy, hammer-like limbs thrust out from under her armpits. Roland threw himself to one side, rolling as he hit the dirt. At the same time, Amina¡¯s limbs smashed into the ground with a boom that shook the entire arena. Leaves and nuts showered the forest floor.

    The crowd broke into hysterics. ¡°Holy shit,¡± Ember muttered.

    ¡°There it is, folks!¡± Howler shouted. ¡°The mantis shrimp¡¯s most powerful attack! If our challenger gets hit with that¡­ well, let¡¯s just say he won¡¯t be getting out of bed any time soon!¡±

    Amina righted herself, looking put off by her failed strike. She beelined toward Roland, and the two picked up the cat-and-mouse chase once more.

    Why would he challenge her of all people? Ember leaned forward, trying to pick apart the match like Carn would have done. Roland is fast, and he¡¯s well-trained. His kicks and punches are clean, even though they¡¯re not landing. On the other hand, Amina looks like she¡¯s relying on her armor and that monster strike¡­but how does he intend to gain the upper hand?

    Bit by bit, Amina closed the distance. She backed the hawk up until they were at the far reaches of the arena, almost underneath one of the suspended aisles. He stopped, hesitant to give up any more ground, and they exchanged a couple of superficial blows. Then, as she had done before, the mantis shrimp lined herself squarely in front of him.

    Ember held her breath. Here it comes¡­

    In the instant before her legs thrust out, Roland leaped into the air. His wings beat down twice, struggling to keep him above the ground. He landed on top of Amina, gripping her shoulders with the talons on his hands and feet. She flailed, and his wings opened up to their full capacity as he fought to hold on. Then, Amina tipped over, and both Linnaeans fell into the dirt.

    In the scuffle that followed, Roland managed to readjust his grip so that he was holding onto Amina¡¯s back with his hands. His talons slipped between her armored plates, finding purchase in the flesh beneath, and blood sprayed onto the sand. Twice she tried to attack him with her powerful legs, but he kept close to her side so that none of the hits landed.

    He bent his legs and pulled her flush against his body. For a split second, he was suspended in time, a coiled spring with his wings stretched high over his head.

    His wings pulsed downward, sending a blast of sand over the crowd. No one breathed as he teetered above the ground. But then, his wings caught something in the air, and the leap carried him high enough to land on the railing of the nearest aisle.

    ¡°This is highly unorthodox!¡± Howler yelled. ¡°The referees say¡­¡± he paused. ¡°They¡¯ll allow it!¡±

    Patrons threw themselves out of the way as Amina tried to wriggle from Roland¡¯s grasp. Ember gripped her knees with white-knuckled hands as she realized what he intended to do. He didn¡¯t choose Amina for some secret reason, but because she¡¯s lightweight.

    The hawk adjusted his position on the railing and leaped to the next aisle, struggling to keep his balance. Amina froze as she came to the same realization as Ember. She began to reach for his body, desperately trying to hold on.

    Roland looked down at her. Without hesitation, he shook her from his talons, sending her plummeting the thirty feet back down to the arena floor.

 25: A Streak of Gold

    Ember picked at the spot on her forehead, trying to peel it up. It held on stubbornly, growing more inflamed with each attempt. Like a pimple, it had cropped up overnight, slightly off-center near her hairline: a glittering golden scale no larger than a pea.

    She flicked it one last time, then washed her hands and tied up her hair. It was the Tuesday after exam week, the day when scores would be released at noon on the bulletins at the center of campus. Even though it was only eleven, she knew that the crowds would already be gathering. It was all she could do not to run from the dorm in anticipation.

    As she crossed the room again, a leaflet on her desk stared back at her. It had been delivered under her door that morning by some unknowing courier. Athletic Department News! the name seemed to shout. The headline was even more painful: Promising new debutant defeats Amina Lafleur, leaving her in critical condition. A photo of Roland, captured just after the match, took up at least half of the front page.

    Ember swept the paper onto the floor, scowling. It wasn¡¯t enough that the ¡®freshman who had become a ranker¡¯ had been the talk of all of her Monday classes. Now he was in the goddamn newspaper?

    In search of a distraction, she lay on the dirt floor, tucking her feet under the mattress to hold herself in place. She sat up, feeling her abs tighten, and touched her chest to her knees. The movement had become familiar after three weeks of training. One. Two. Three¡­

    By the time the knock came, Ember¡¯s biceps, abs, and thighs were swollen. She rose on shaky legs from her plank position and pulled open the door, revealing an equally nervous-looking Carn and Naz. ¡°Are you ready?¡± the fox asked. She nodded.

    Without a word, the three left the unaffiliated dorm. The air was crisp, the hallmark of the first day of November. Ember shivered, still partially warmed by her workout but already regretting leaving her jacket behind. On either side of the trails were piles of fiery red leaves, cut through by patches of grass and clover. As expected, the pathways were choked with students on their way to the bulletins.

    ¡°Have you spoken to your advisor yet?¡± Naz asked, catching sight of Ember¡¯s new scale. ¡°Since you found out that you¡¯re a snake?¡±

    Ember¡¯s gaze slipped to the ground. ¡°No¡­it was midterm week, and there wasn¡¯t much time. The pharmacist adjusted my dosage not long ago if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about.¡±

    Naz shook her head. ¡°I just think that they¡¯ll have some resources for you. Like how Carn had a retainer to guide his canines into the right place.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ember conceded. She looked back at the unaffiliated dorm¡ªthough it was long since hidden behind the trees¡ªremembering how Corax had requested that she have her own room on her very first night in Mendel. ¡°I¡¯m not ready to move yet. I¡¯ve just settled in.¡±

    ¡°The reptile dorm might be even better,¡± Carn added sympathetically. ¡°There¡¯s not many students there.¡±

    Ember¡¯s half-hearted agreement died in her throat as they turned a corner, bringing the library into view. Beneath its pavilion was a large, and growing, crowd of university students.

    Bells rang nearby, startling some birds from their perches and marking the coming of noon. At the same time, a procession of faculty and student employees emerged from the library doors. Each pair carried a four-foot-tall leaderboard, one for each year of the university. The boards had been carved with slots so that a tab with each of the students¡¯ names could be slid into the correct placement.

    The crowd swelled forward, trying to get a glimpse of the results. It was obvious which board was which since the freshman board boasted almost six hundred slots while the senior board had just over half as many. Just a glimpse would be enough: the top ten names were marked with gold, the names of the average scorers in black, and the names of those who would be up for academic dismissal in red. For them, the next few weeks would be spent in limbo as they waited to see if their petitions would be accepted.

    The faculty shooed back the crowd and hung all four bulletins on the wall underneath the pavilion, where they would stay until finals. The moment they finished, the students pushed forward to see their scores. By unspoken rule, the upperclassmen were allowed to go first, though the freshmen and sophomores muttered their annoyance. Most of the older Linnaeans returned with looks of satisfaction, but Ember spotted a couple of tearful faces.

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    When it was finally their turn, Ember and her friends muscled through the crowd to the first board in the lineup. Her eyes sifted through the gold tabs, starting from the tenth place. She could hardly breathe as she moved up the rankings without seeing her name. Then, finally, it seemed to leap out from the very first slot, where it dominated the freshman class.

    She smiled. This time, there was no shock, no imposter syndrome: only cool pride spreading through her chest. She allowed herself a moment to commit the sight to memory.

    She widened her perspective gradually. Unsurprisingly, Roland had placed second, a fact that would probably throw him into a fit of panic. On her right, Naz looked pleased, pointing to her name in the middle of the pack. On her left, Carn was holding a fist to his chest, his gaze locked on where his name rested¡­ in black, just one slot above the red section. He had narrowly avoided academic dismissal.

    ¡°You did it,¡± Ember said, her voice partially lost to the crowd. She thumped him on the back, careful not to jar his healing injury. Naz threw her arms around him, giddy with excitement. He grinned, and his one eye shone with accomplishment.

    ***

    Ember slipped to one side, avoiding her partner¡¯s fist by a hair. He stepped back, looking surprised. ¡°Again,¡± she ordered, still circling back and forth.

    He gave her a little nod and raised his arms. He drew closer, sending an awkward series of jabs and crosses at her upper body. Forcing herself not to panic, she watched his torso carefully. His shoulders shifted to one side as he prepared to punch, telegraphing his intended direction. Ember turned just slightly as the strike came, and it brushed past her into empty space.

    ¡°Nice work, Ember,¡± Mr. Badger said from nearby. ¡°Good improvement! Sam, your punches are swinging wide again.¡±

    A slight smile graced her face. She was no genius¡ªstill a total beginner¡ªbut she was finally improving. Bit by bit, she had chipped away at the instincts that told her to turn her back and cower. The sting of Naz¡¯s punches had taught her to keep moving, and to watch for her opponents¡¯ tells before their next strike. The drills had set the framework for her new skills: the strength exercises had fortified her muscles, and the early-morning runs had built up her stamina.

    Growing frustrated, Sam tried again, his hair shaking from his bun as he swung. The punch grazed her ear, but she gritted her teeth in determination. Going against her instinct, she leaned forward into the opening, close enough to feel his droplets of sweat as he shuffled backward. Quickly, she brought her right fist up from her ribs, rotating her leg and hip to amplify the power.

    The uppercut sunk into the flesh of Sam¡¯s stomach. ¡°Oof!¡± he huffed, doubling over. Spit dribbled from his mouth.

    Ember looked at her reddened knuckles, half in shock and half in awe. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said softly.

    He held up a hand, still panting. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ be,¡± he choked out between breaths. ¡°It¡¯s my fault¡­ for not dodging.¡±

    Ember wiped the sweat from her mouth. Well, it looks like I¡¯ve finally graduated from level zero.

    ***

    Ember tried not to flinch as the open-air carriage hit a bump, jostling her against the rough wooden bench. There was no driver, and smoothness was not the specialty of the three furry creatures pulling the cart. It bounced as they trotted leisurely on skinny legs, humming to each other and releasing the occasional sneeze. To Ember, they looked like a cross between a large bird and a horse.

    She pulled her coat more tightly around her shoulders. The leather caught on the slippery strap of her bathing suit, releasing a squeak. The other three Linnaeans¡ªall obviously aquatic species returning from the main campus¡ªglanced at her incredulously, and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. Their skepticism was tangible: why would an undeveloped reptile be visiting the Saline Lake on a chilly November afternoon?

    Truthfully, Ember was also questioning her choice. She¡¯d picked an overcast day, thinking that the fewer people that saw her, the better. Now she realized that the lack of other visitors made her stand out more.

    It¡¯s too late now, she told herself. The carriage was the second-to-last one of the day, and it would draw more attention if she demanded they return to campus. She reached into her pocket, tracing the corners of Hickory¡¯s permission slip. Am I making a mistake?

    As soon as the creatures came to a stop, she yanked open the door and jumped down onto the lakeshore. She walked quickly to the outbuilding, which cut a dreary silhouette in the shade. Unlike during Hickory¡¯s practical, it was almost empty. A lone research student was at the equipment counter, leaning on one arm dejectedly as Ember walked in.

    His eyebrows raised as he considered her. He said nothing, as though he expected that she had wandered inside by accident. ¡°Hello,¡± she ventured. ¡°May I check out a raft, a mask, and some surface-supplied air equipment? I have a professor¡¯s note.¡±

    He leaned forward dubiously, taking the note from her outstretched hand. ¡°There¡¯s no recreational diving after October 31st.¡±

    ¡°Just the raft, then.¡±

    He paused. ¡°...All right.¡± He handed her a key. ¡°You can take the one in the ninth spot. Don¡¯t go out too far.¡±

    Ember nodded. She turned for the door, eager to leave the outbuilding before he changed his mind. ¡°Wait,¡± he added, and a bolt of anxiety ran down her neck.

    ¡°...Yes?¡±

    ¡°Take one of the windbreakers on the chair. It¡¯s cold out on the water.¡±

 26: An Ill-Conceived Escapade

    Ember hurried along the lakeside trail, keeping her head low. The shoreline was clear, and the only sign that other Linnaeans were nearby was the occasional ripple on the lake¡¯s surface. She was grateful for the brown windbreaker and its hood, both for the warmth and the anonymity.

    As promised, a sturdy bamboo raft was waiting in the ninth slot. It was secured at the crest of the bank, just before the shallow incline that led into the water. With unsteady hands, she gripped the cold metal of the key and unlocked the chain wrapped around the nearest shoot. Bracing herself against a stone, she pushed until the raft slid down the ramp and into the water.

    She tucked the paddle under one arm and scrambled down next to the raft, angling her legs awkwardly to dip a hand into the lake. She winced, withdrawing it immediately; while the air was merely crisp, the water felt downright frigid, at least to a Linnaean with a cold-blooded source species.

    For Hickory¡¯s practical, she and Morgan had walked the raft into waist-high water before mounting it. This time, she clambered onboard from the shore, only dampening her hands and knees. She sat back on her shins and used the paddle to propel the raft off of the bank.

    As she bumbled a few feet in either direction, Ember began to realize just how ill-conceived the trip was. Having never grown up around the water, she had failed to recognize the impact of the time of day and weather on the lake conditions. In the dim light, the water was inky black and opaque below the surface. Without her partner and classmates nearby, the atmosphere was almost sinister. In the distance, she could just make out the buoys that marked the drop-off into the depths.

    Moreover, she wasn¡¯t skilled at steering the raft, and it was too dangerous to enter the water without equipment. Even if she did¡ªsomehow¡ªfind who she was looking for, there was no guarantee that he would agree to help her.

    With her options limited, Ember pointed the raft in the direction of the reef where she and Morgan had recorded their twenty-foot dive. For fifteen minutes, she paddled further from the shore. Glimpses of the sandy bottom became fewer and farther between. The towers of coral heads, once vibrant, loomed dark and shadowy in the muted light.

    She stilled the raft. It bobbed gently as she tightened the windbreaker and peered into the gloomy water. The wind whistled past her ears, pushing flyaways out of her ponytail. If she sat quietly enough, she could hear splashing near the opposite shore. She folded her legs and waited.

    Time moved slowly. Birds flew over the lake on their way to roost in the trees, and the sun crept across the sky in a downward arc. Ember picked up her paddle only occasionally, pushing herself a few feet back so that she wouldn¡¯t drift out into deeper water. She thought of calling out Orthus¡¯s name, then decided that it would ruin any chance of him appearing at all. Perhaps he meets his clients somewhere else?

    There was a disturbance nearby, and Ember looked over to see a school of forearm-sized fish flashing just underneath the surface. Their vibrations made raindrop-like patterns as they wove frenetic patterns over each other. One jumped clear out of the water with a flick of its silvery tail, narrowly missing the nearest bamboo shoot.

    Ember shifted. That¡¯s weird, it¡¯s like they¡¯re being chased.

    A tremor ran through the bamboo. Ember seized the sides, her chest tightening. The raft spun slowly as she scanned the water. She counted to sixty, the taut skin over her knuckles whitening. When nothing else happened, she sat back gradually, picking up the paddle. It¡¯s time to go.

    Something slammed into the raft from below, flipping it into the air in an eruption of surf. Ember¡¯s fingers grasped at the slippery shoots uselessly, and she hit the water with a slap.

    For a moment, everything was still. She sank slowly under the surface in a cloud of bubbles, stunned by the shocking cold. Then, her eyes sprang open and she kicked hard, breaking the surface. She took a gasping breath, and her heavy clothes threatened to drag her down again. The raft floated nearby, belly-up. She reached for it.

    Something bumped her leg. She yelled, kicking with full force. Her shoe made contact with a dense body, pushing it away. Desperately, she hauled herself onto the raft, dripping with icy water.

    ¡°Ow!¡± someone exclaimed, and Ember whipped around to see the head and shoulders of a grey-skinned Linnaean. She was topless and rubbing a reddened spot near her collarbone. ¡°You made me lose the fish,¡± she said indignantly.

    A wave of fury crashed down over Ember. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± she shouted. ¡°You¡¯re damn lucky I know how to swim!¡±

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    The woman tilted her head, and a quizzical whistle came from her throat. ¡°Why were you flailing around in the water?¡±

    Ember¡¯s mouth widened in disbelief. ¡°You knocked me off of my raft!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not really a good day for a swim.¡±

    ¡°You. Knocked. Me. Off!¡± Ember nearly screamed. Her hand twitched, and she had to stop herself from slapping the woman.

    The other Linnaean was tapping her head. ¡°You look very familiar. I think we¡¯ve met before.¡±

    Ember folded her arms, taking a few calming breaths. Sure enough, she recognized the rubbery skin, tiny teeth, and shrill voice. ¡°You came up on me while I was taking a bath,¡± she confirmed accusatorily. ¡°On my first day in Mendel.¡±

    The woman laughed. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    Ember reconsidered her position, deciding that yelling at the only other Linnaean she had seen in hours wasn¡¯t the brightest idea. ¡°As you pointed out, I don¡¯t belong here,¡± she said pointedly. ¡°I was looking for someone. His name is Orthus. Do you know him?¡±

    The woman¡¯s teeth sparkled as she smiled slyly, and for a moment Ember was taken aback. ¡°Yes, I do know him. In the wild, dolphins hunt octopi.¡±

    The thought of Orthus, haughty as he was, being chased by this ridiculous woman made the corner of Ember¡¯s mouth twitch upward. She narrowed her line of questioning. ¡°What I meant is, where is he? Right now?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that. He¡¯s out.¡±

    ¡°When is he coming back?¡±

    ¡°No one knows.¡±

    Ember resisted the urge to claw her hair out. She was soaked to the bone, and it wouldn¡¯t be long before the sun descended over the horizon. At some point during the dolphin¡¯s collision with the raft, the paddle had been lost to the dusky water. Even if she left right away, she might not make it back in time for the last carriage.

    She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. ¡°Can you take me back to shore?¡±

    The dolphin sank back down into the water until only her eyes showed, pretending to pout. Ember pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I kicked you, and that you lost your fish, all right? Never mind that I was actively drowning. I¡¯m hopeless in the water, so please, push the raft back. Surely it won¡¯t take long.¡±

    The other woman thought it over. Then, without another word, she took a gulp of air and disappeared under the surface. The raft shook and then rocketed through the water, almost dislodging its passenger.

    As the dolphin¡¯s strong, silvery legs propelled them through the water, Ember realized that she had drifted further out than she had originally thought. With no obvious markers like trees and buildings, the distance from the shore had been deceptive. Even at their quick pace, it took over fifteen minutes of hair-rasing travel until the tip of the bamboo shoots poked solid ground.

    Ember hauled herself to her feet, stumbling in her eagerness to leave the lake. Her fingers and toes were painfully numb with cold. She thanked the dolphin, who stopped mid-reply to dive down in pursuit of another school of fish.

    ¡°What a disaster,¡± Ember muttered aloud. With great effort, she dragged the raft up the bank, her shoes spitting out water with every step. She reached for the chain, having to pick it up once, then twice as her shaky fingers lost their grip. Finally, she turned the key in the lock, securing it again.

    Her steps along the shore were slow and labored as if her legs were held back by hands of molasses. As soon as she looked at the sky again, it was clear that the last carriage would have long since come and gone. She tried the door to the outbuilding, but it was locked, so she dumped the sodden windbreaker in front of the door. I guess he really wasn¡¯t worried, she thought, remembering the research assistant who had manned the counter. Good thing I didn¡¯t drown¡­ though it would have been no one¡¯s fault but my own.

    With no other option, she turned toward the trail that led back to campus. She guessed that it was a seven-mile journey back to the unaffiliated dorm. She was far too tired to run, and it was not an easy hike over the forest terrain, meaning it would take at least two and a half hours before she could suppress her disappointment with sleep. Still, barring any major incident, she would be back before eleven o¡¯clock.

    She pulled off her waterlogged outerwear and threw it over her shoulder, stripping down to her bathing suit. As the wind stung her exposed skin, she reminded herself that she was solely responsible for the unwise idea of visiting the lake. She set off over the trail, lifting her wearied legs over the uneven ground. The giant trees arched overhead, their leaves rustling in the dying shades of sunset. The wall of darkness between their trunks made Ember wary, though she no longer felt the sharp fear that had accompanied nighttime in the weeks immediately following the rogue¡¯s attack.

    Ember¡¯s body was deathly sore by the time the waning moon rose in the sky. Other than the occasional distant noise or the buzzing of an insect, it was a quiet night. By her best reckoning, she had walked for forty minutes. Her bathing suit had settled into an uncomfortable dampness, though rivulets of water were still being expelled from her hair.

    Something prickled on Ember¡¯s right. She turned suddenly, just as a figure materialized behind the nearest tree. A spike of adrenaline ran down her neck, and she stepped backward. Her foot turned awkwardly over a root, and to her horror, she collapsed like a sack of potatoes onto the path.

    The figure neared as she righted herself. ¡°W-who are you?¡± she demanded, trying to keep her voice calm.

    He stepped into a thin ray of moonlight, pulling back the hood of his cloak. He was dressed in all black, with a leather messenger bag lying against one hip. His half-blue, half-orange eyes shone out from the darkness, looking her up and down. ¡°Ember?¡±

 27: Covert Correspondence

    Ember sat down on the tree root, folding one leg delicately over the other as if making up for her unceremonious collapse. She feared that appearing this way in front of Orthus¡ªshivering, with dirtied skin and an uncooperative body¡ªhad already lost her all credibility as a client. Yet, she could think of no words to reassert herself, so her mouth remained clamped shut.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± Orthus said, setting down his bag and disappearing between the trees. He reappeared only a moment later with an armful of branches, which he dumped on the forest floor between them.

    The only noise was the hum of the forest as he struck a match and held it to the wood. It was a dry night, and the fire caught quickly, licking first at the needles and then at the larger branches.

    In the firelight, Ember had her first real look at Orthus. He was surprisingly striking, with a strong nose and dark-brown hair that turned up around the nape of his neck. His black clothes concealed the loose, color-changing skin that had covered him like a cloak during their first meeting. As he held his hands to the fire, his sleeves fell back to reveal a smattering of suckers on his thin wrists. He looked up at Ember, his gaze aloof but not unkind. ¡°Are you thirsty?¡±

    Her head nodded of its own accord. Meticulously, he reached into the front pocket of his bag, pulling out two palm-sized wooden cups, a canteen, and a vial of leaves. As Ember watched, he shook a pinch of leaves from the vial into each cup, poured a stream of water over them, and then set the cups on a stone near the fire. ¡°Camellia sinensis,¡± he explained. ¡°Black tea. It will warm your hands, at least.¡±

    Ember stared at him. Something about his manner reminded her of Corax, though he was more volatile. She thought of how his expression had changed when they had first met in the lake from potent contempt to something softer. Even now, he was helping her in a way that seemed against his character. ¡°I was-¡± she began to say, but he held up a hand, and she fell silent again.

    For five long minutes, she sat perfectly still, watching as the flames flickered over the wood. Finally, Orthus retrieved the cups, reaching across the fire to place one into her hands. She sniffed it, letting him take a sip before she decided that it was safe to drink. It smelled of earth, and it tasted strong and bitter.

    ¡°I heard about your triumph,¡± he said. ¡°Against the rogue and in the academic rankings.¡±

    She looked up, surprised, then remembered that he dealt in information. ¡°What of it?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s my business to know who is doing what, when.¡±

    Once again, she could think of nothing to say, so she raised the cup slowly and sipped the tea. ¡°You were looking for me,¡± Orthus prompted. ¡°Why?¡±

    She smiled ruefully. How pitiful she must look, shivering and hunched over with both hands wrapped around the cup. ¡°It was an unwise plan,¡± she admitted. ¡°I need a way to contact my father, who is in Ciradyl, and I could think of no one else to ask.¡±

    For a split second, his gaze on her sharpened. ¡°Your father lives?¡±

    His reaction surprised her, and a question rose in her throat, but she didn¡¯t give it voice. ¡°I have no reason to believe otherwise.¡±

    He steepled his fingers, pausing to think. ¡°In that case, I can think of only one way to contact him.¡±

    Ember tried to conceal her eagerness. ¡°Yes?¡±

    His reply came quickly. ¡°Surely, you know that I don¡¯t give away information for free.¡±

    ¡°Of course. What is your price?¡±

    He reached over the fire again, and she had to stop herself from flinching away. With one long, thin finger, he poked her on the forehead. ¡°That scale.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

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    Wordlessly, he passed her an inch-long switchblade by the handle. She took it gingerly, letting it sit in her palm. The thought of refusing flashed through her mind, but only briefly; it was a small price for what he promised in return. With cold fingers, she felt for the scale, pressing the blade of the knife against its rim. Then, quickly, she forced it from her skin.

    It came free with minimal resistance, and she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. A tiny chunk of bloody skin remained affixed to one side. She placed it and the knife in Orthus¡¯s outstretched hand, watching with morbid curiosity as he folded it into a handkerchief and slipped it into his bag.

    He cleaned his hands with a splash of water, offering no elucidation for his bizarre request. ¡°There is an acquaintance of mine,¡± he began, ¡°a dove, who has the unusual ability even among Linnaeans to commune with her source species. Her flock does surveillance and delivers messages on the mainland in exchange for her tutelage. They have a homing sense that allows them to return even over thousands of miles. ¡±

    Finally, a straight answer. ¡°What will it cost?¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°Unfortunately, she has a very Linnaean way of doing things. Her older sister, Freya, is a ranker. If you best her, you¡¯ll gain an audience.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the sister¡¯s species?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a harpy eagle.¡±

    Shit. Ember pressed a sleeve to the spot of raw skin on her forehead, recalling the sickening crack when Roland had dropped the mantis shrimp on the hard-packed sand. As a snake, an eagle would be her natural predator. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not ideal. I¡¯m not particularly talented on the battlefield.¡±

    Orthus shrugged. ¡°Then give up.¡±

    Ember looked at him. His smirk told her that they both knew that giving up had never been¡ªand would never be¡ªan option. ¡°There¡¯s no other way?¡±

    ¡°There may be, but I don¡¯t know it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the same as saying no.¡±

    He leaned back and laughed. ¡°You catch on quickly.¡±

    Ember frowned. ¡°But will the ranker accept my challenge? She has much to lose in a battle with an unrecognized fighter.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s possible. The fights are held in the utmost secrecy. Not many people know about her sister¡¯s abilities, so when Freya is challenged, she typically accepts in order to meet her opponent.¡± He paused, seeing her skeptical expression. ¡°Listen. She owes me a favor. I will mention your name to her, but it¡¯s no guarantee.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much,¡± Ember said, inclining her head. She stood up, handing him the cup.

    He nodded. ¡°Wait, I¡¯ll call you a mount.¡±

    She didn¡¯t argue as he reached into his bag, pulling out a thin, bone-colored whistle. He blew into one end and it rang out like a bell, cutting through the surrounding forest. ¡°She will come soon,¡± he said.

    Ember watched Orthus out of the corner of her eye. As always, he was calm and composed, and his face betrayed nothing. Still, something pushed her to risk a question. ¡°Orthus, my friend told me that you are very selective with your clients. I don¡¯t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but if I may know, why are you helping me?¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± he ran a hand over his face, and Ember detected a glimmer of uncertainty.

    I was right, it¡¯s more than just kindness. She folded her arms, wracking her brain for a reason, but came up empty. ¡°Have we met before?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s nothing like that. Let¡¯s just say that you remind me very much of someone I knew when I was younger.¡±

    He turned his head to look at a spot on the forest floor, and his expression did not yield itself to further questions. He took his canteen from his bag, shaking the remaining water over the fire. Smoke rose into the air as the embers sizzled, and Orthus kicked dust over them. Instantly, the air grew colder.

    Only a moment passed in silence before fallen leaves crackled nearby, signaling the arrival of the mount. She emerged at Orthus¡¯s side, partially obscured by the darkness. She was taller and lanker than the deer that Ember had seen before, and she held herself almost regally, with her short, fuzzy-looking antlers pointed toward the sky. She nuzzled Orthus as he petted her flank.

    Ember approached cautiously. ¡°She¡¯s beautiful. I thought only the males had antlers.¡±

    ¡°Not reindeer,¡± he said. ¡°Her name is Aria.¡±

    Wordlessly, he kneeled, offering Ember his knee to stand on. She placed her foot carefully, swinging her other leg over the reindeer¡¯s back. The white-tufted fur was softer and denser than she would have guessed, and she pushed her fingers deeper for warmth.

    Orthus stood up, dusting off his pants. ¡°Tell her where you want to go in simple terms, and she will understand.¡±

    Ember looked at him. Their conversation had been anomalous, somewhere on the boundary between companionable and transactional. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°I mean it.¡±

    He waved her words off, but the corners of his thin lips quirked upward. He leaned forward, whispering something to the reindeer, and she started toward the trail at a leisurely pace.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go swimming next time you need me,¡± he added from behind them.

 28: Tree-Shaping

    ¡°You should have told us!¡± Naz whisper-yelled, leaning over to point accusatorily at Ember. ¡°I would have gone with you! I¡¯m a pisces, for god¡¯s sake.¡±

    Ember glanced behind them. Luckily, it was a particularly spirited day, and none of the other students were paying them any mind. ¡°I only had permission for myself,¡± she said weakly. ¡°Besides, it turned out fine in the end.¡±

    ¡°I would have expected this from Carn, but not you,¡± Naz added, and the fox nodded in corroboration. ¡°Who knows what that freak wanted with your scale, and all he told you in return was to fight someone.¡±

    Ember held her hands out in front of her, pleading for mercy. Wait until they find out that I intend to challenge that harpy eagle.

    Carn threw an arm over Naz¡¯s shoulders, jostling her. ¡°She means, ¡®thank you for telling us.¡¯ We¡¯ll help you contact your father.¡±

    Ember smiled slightly. The decision to open up to them about her mission hadn¡¯t been taken lightly, but despite Naz¡¯s scolding, she felt that it had been the right one.

    ¡°Hello,¡± someone said, and Ember realized that they had reached the front of the line, where the faculty member at the window was trying to get their attention.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± the three said sheepishly. They pushed their school IDs¡ªcarved into a thin wooden card¡ªacross the counter. The woman checked their names and identification numbers, then rifled through the files under her desk, coming up with three lumpy envelopes, one gold, and two black.

    ¡°Congratulations,¡± she said, handing them over.

    They thanked her, holding the envelopes close to their chests. They turned down the path, glanced at each other, then rushed to break them open¡ªCarn by ripping off the top with his teeth; Ember by tugging the seal open with her finger; and Naz by making a neat slit with her karambit. Inside was their stipend for passing midterms and staying enrolled at the university.

    ¡°Finally!¡± Carn exclaimed, grinning widely enough to reveal the full length of his canines, and Ember echoed the sentiment. Unlike Naz, whose father lived in Mendel and regularly sent her money, she and Carn were flat-broke. As long as they were students, their school supplies, medicine, and food were provided, but any extra was awarded only twice a semester.

    Ember poked around in the envelope. It was her first time seeing such a variety of Mendel¡¯s currency, which was separated into pouches by type. Within the first was the least valuable unit, dark-brown cacao seeds that smelled earthy. The second held simple, unmarked disks, made from copper, silver, and gold alloys. In the last were the most valuable, a couple of tiny, brightly-colored gems. It was an impressive assortment, especially for Ember, who had received the highest stipend thanks to her high scores.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go to town,¡± Carn suggested, his one eye gleaming. ¡°It¡¯s a Saturday, and we¡¯re done with exams. What better time is there?¡±

    Ember was quick to agree. Though she had lived in Mendel for three months, she had yet to see the city proper except on the night of her arrival. Studying¡ªand lately training¡ªhad kept her busy, and she had been afraid that her lack of knowledge about Linnaean culture would once again make her stick out as a foreigner.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Naz added. ¡°It¡¯s about time that Ember tried something other than the mess hall food.¡±

    Ember let herself be led from the center of campus to the southern hub. It was a transportation site, known as one of the busiest spots on campus, which is precisely why Ember had avoided it. Sure enough, it was overflowing with other students itching to spend their stipends. Draft animals bearing riders or carts were arriving and departing the broad trail every couple of minutes. Others mingled among the waiting students, eating from buckets of nutrient-rich oats.

    As Ember watched, a rider dismounted a massive, grumpy-looking bovine with droopy horns. It bellowed irritably, hitting the man with a flick of its tail. The rider pulled back, gesturing in surrender, and quickly took off the animal¡¯s tack. The bovine huffed, trundling through the crowd and disappearing into the woods.

    Ember pointed incredulously. ¡°Did he just scold that rider?¡±

    ¡°I guess he¡¯s done working for the day,¡± Carn laughed. ¡°They come and go as they please, in exchange for feed and companionship.¡±

    Sure enough, there wasn¡¯t a whip or spur in sight. ¡°No wonder there¡¯s such a long line,¡± Ember laughed.

    Even with the animals taking breaks, the line moved quickly. When an open-topped carriage pulled up, Ember and her friends dashed forward to claim it. As usual, there was no driver, just a massive draft horse with a deep brown coat and feathered feet. They boosted themselves into the car, and a Linnaean couple climbed in after them, taking up the opposite bench.

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    Naz leaned over the front of the carriage, raising her voice. ¡°Take us to Main Street, please!¡±

    The horse neighed, taking off in a brisk walk. The carriage rattled over the hard-packed dirt but held steady, stabilized by its four wide wheels. Other draft animals passed them on the left, some riderless, others pulling carts or carriages. Though Ember recognized a few from her hometown, many were completely foreign, like a tan-colored creature with two humps.

    The horse ignored the side trails, staying on a wide path that skirted campus on the southern side. As they traveled, both Naz and Carn and the Linnaean couple chatted quietly. Ember draped one arm over the side of the carriage and peered out, content just to watch and listen.

    ¡°Where does your father live?¡± Carn asked Naz.

    ¡°He has a little cabin north of the city, by a lake.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a pisces, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s a loach, like me.¡±

    ¡°Was your mother Linnaean?¡± Ember interjected softly, curious about Naz¡¯s past.

    The pisces shook her head. ¡°My mother passed in childbirth, and my father and I fled here when I was just a baby. Even at that age, I was showing signs of development, and there was no way he could stay in hiding and care for me at the same time.¡±

    ¡°What was it like to grow up here?¡±

    ¡°I was lucky. The other families helped my father find work, and they looked after me until I could go to school. I grew up without hardship or shame, unlike most of my peers.¡±

    Ember smiled, knowing that the statement wasn¡¯t entirely true. Though it was not uncommon in Mendel, Naz had still been raised by a single parent in a new land. She respected her friend¡¯s humility, though, and leaned back against the carriage seats, returning to quietly listening.

    After about ten minutes, the horse turned, taking a northwestern path through the forest. The transition from the university to the city was gradual, with the buildings being replaced first by dense forest and then by free-standing residences. One-room treehouses sat tucked between high branches, and entrances to tunnels were marked with piles of stones. They were well camouflaged, and for each one that Ember spotted, she was sure that she had missed three more.

    The horse continued on, seemingly unbothered by the weight of five people and of the carriage itself. Rather than thinning, the forest grew thicker. The trees reached impossibly high into the sky, far taller than the tallest buildings on the mainland. The bases of their trunks were wide enough to accommodate Ember¡¯s dorm room at least three times over, and their roots often rose high enough above the ground for the carriage to pass underneath. The openings to hollows were fitted with doors, some featuring tiny flaps for animals to pass in and out.

    More than once, Ember noticed Linnaeans dressed in flowy, all-green uniforms navigating the forest. Despite wearing helmets and thick leather boots, they maneuvered through the branches with certainty and grace. Some carried spools of metal wire, toothed blades, or armfuls of plant cuttings. One was attaching supports to a new sapling. ¡°Who are they?¡± Ember asked, pointing.

    ¡°Tree-shapers,¡± Carn replied. ¡°They¡¯re Mendel¡¯s architects and caretakers.¡±

    The concept seemed backward to Ember. ¡°They¡¯re doing construction by¡­ planting more trees?¡±

    ¡°They are one and the same,¡± Naz explained, ¡°but it¡¯s more complicated than just planting trees. Tree shaping has been a tradition since the first settlers came to Mendel. The shapers monitor the health of the forest by removing excess vegetation and nursing the well-placed saplings. They also schedule appointments with arborists for the elderly and sickly trees; there, rot and pests are removed, and they¡¯re prescribed supplements based on their needs.¡±

    Ember paused, struggling to make sense of it. Even at the university, some growth was cleared to make way for buildings. But as they traveled, the trees only grew taller, their crowns gleaming with the light of the midday sun, and their roots stretched like bridges from one bole to the next. Window-like openings appeared at various heights along the trunk, some fitted with panes of glass.

    As Ember watched the treeline, she had the sense that she was missing some essential component of the scene. Her eyes would alight on something peculiar, but the speed of the carriage would rip it away before she could define it.

    A white arm reached out of one opening, draping a bedsheet over a nearby limb. Ember reeled, shocked, as the structures took shape within the wood. Each place that tree bowed out was a natural hollow, the inside of which had been converted into a Linnaean dwelling. The wide branches and roots connected in just the right places to create serviceable walkways, and the foot-sized indentations spiraling up the trunks formed staircases.

    Tree shaping¡­ so this is what Naz meant. Unlike the university, which had been founded in the last four decades, the city had existed for over one hundred fifty years. It must have taken generations, but maintaining the trees¡¯ good health had allowed the Linnaeans to manipulate their growth, creating living architecture.

    The path widened, and trails branched off in every direction, each one busy with travelers. The structures increased in number until they filled every inch of Ember¡¯s vision, disappearing underground and high into the treetops. Pots hung from the thinner branches, and greens and herbs grew from notches in the bark. Flowering vines were strung over the path, filling the air with a sweet aroma.

    The doors to larger hollows were marked with the names of shops, and street vendors sold their goods using roots as booths. Linaneans walked along the natural bridges, some holding shopping bags. Oftentimes, companion animals perched on their shoulders or hung around their necks. Every few minutes, a messenger bird would fly a circle around someone¡¯s head, dropping a scroll into their outstretched hands.

    The horse brought them to the head of a winding street. The atmosphere buzzed with feverish activity. Ember looked back and forth, trying to take in everything at once. The path led under roots and between the gargantuan trees, circling outdoor markets and finally disappearing in the distance.

    The horse pulled the carriage to one side of the road, and Naz pushed the door open. ¡°Welcome to Main Street,¡± she said.

 29: Main Street

    Ember looked up with awe as her boots touched the soil of Main Street. All around her, the city pulsed with life¡¯s energy. The ground vibrated beneath her feet, traveling up her legs and into her chest. A leaf fluttered lazily past her shoulder, dislodged by a Linnaean walking across a branch sixty feet overhead. In the distance, a roar hinted at the presence of a waterfall.

    ¡°Careful!¡± Naz exclaimed, gripping Ember¡¯s arm and tugging her out of the path. The horse sniffed at her hair and then heaved the carriage forward, taking the Linnaean couple further down the street.

    Ember shook her head, dazed. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Carn grinned, pointing upward with one finger. ¡°Come on!¡± With the help of an outcropping, he climbed up the base of a nearby tree. Ember followed hesitantly, then realized that, though it was impossible to discern from the outside, a distinct pathway had been shaped into the wood. It wrapped twice around the trunk, then connected to a root eight feet off of the ground.

    Even if Ember had been uncomfortable with heights, the path would have posed no risk. The root was sturdy and flat, at least four feet across at the thinnest point. The sides were higher than the center, making it difficult for someone to fall off even if they weren¡¯t paying attention.

    Naz jumped past Carn, taking the lead. As Ember¡¯s eyes traced the path, she realized that it changed direction with almost dizzying frequency, winding between tree trunks and switching between rock, wood, and soil. It ran through undulating roots and hanging ladders, crossing above the road and intersecting with other avenues. Curtains of vines and thick doors sprouted up from nowhere, marking the entrances to tucked-away hollows.

    ¡°Let¡¯s look here first,¡± Naz said, turning suddenly to descend a staircase onto the forest floor. As Ember tried to catch her bearings, she realized that they were on the other side of the road from where they¡¯d started.

    Embedded in the tree trunk was a wooden door, which Naz pulled open to reveal a small but brightly lit interior. A bell jingled above the entryway, announcing their arrival.

    Ember shivered; it was noticeably colder inside. A long and low counter bisected the store, atop which were wooden trays packed with ice, each one holding bright red cuts of meat of all varieties. Ember¡¯s nose twitched, and to her embarrassment, a drop of saliva dislodged itself from her lower lip.

    Well, I¡¯ll be,¡± a jovial voice said, and Ember tore her gaze away from the meat to see a very large man in a bloodstained apron. Though almost every aspect of his appearance was different from Olga''s (the young Ursidae with whom Ember had traveled), he gave off uncannily similar energy. He smiled broadly at Naz, crossing his furry, muscled arms over his chest. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen you around here, kiddo.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been in school, Mr. Boris. These are my friends, Carn and Ember.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m an old friend of her dad¡¯s. I¡¯m guessing you all got your stipends?¡± They nodded. ¡°Well, you won¡¯t be needing any of that here. I¡¯ll whip you up something for your travels.¡±

    Ember watched eagerly as he pulled three drumsticks from the ice, setting them atop a grated metal apparatus. He struck a match, lighting the wood at the bottom. The tantalizing smell of grilled meat began to waft up, gathering near the ceiling and then disappearing through a strategically placed vent. When the meat was done, he wrapped the bone in parchment paper and passed the drumsticks across the counter.

    A rich, juicy flavor spread across her tongue as Ember took her first bite. ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± she said enthusiastically.

    ¡°She¡¯s not usually so excitable,¡± Carn pointed out.

    ¡°Such is the way with carnivores,¡± Mr. Boris shrugged. ¡°Now, you kids go and enjoy your day. Come see me again.¡±

    The three waved goodbye as they left the butchery, their mouths full of turkey. They set back out over the path, exploring as they talked and ate. When they passed stores nestled between roots or boughs, they peered through the windows with eager eyes. Following Naz¡¯s lead, they meandered higher, until the draft animals on the path below shrank to the size of Ember¡¯s thumb.

    In single file, they climbed up a staircase that spiraled around a fir tree. Ember¡¯s steps were steady, but she held one hand against the trunk, letting the gnarled bark stamp a pattern into her palm. As she looked over the gulf between trees, her heart raced with exhilaration. The rays of the afternoon sun caught the multicolored leaves at odd angles, bathing the path in a spectrum of light. The wind danced through the deep green needles, whipping strands of hair against her face.

    It¡¯s as if I¡¯m in another world.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Naz called, and Ember shook herself, following the pisces off of the staircase and onto a branch bridge. At the same time, she picked up on an irregular beating noise, like flapping wings. Curious, she stepped to the edge, peering into the breach. Ahead was a spectacular sight: a broad, orb-shaped treehouse suspended between two massive redwoods. Birds of all species were entering and exiting through holes in the roof, carrying scrolls or small parcels.

    ¡°Incredible,¡± Ember breathed. She stood stock-still, watching as a tiny sparrow emerged from the treehouse gripping a miniature scroll in its talons. It circled once, then swooped low and disappeared between the trees. Only a moment after, a rainbow-colored macaw returned through the same opening bearing a stack of letters.

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    ¡°I suppose they¡¯re freelancers, too,¡± Ember said, thinking back to the draft animals at the university hub.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Carn confirmed. ¡°The birds have extremely high intelligence¡ªequal to that of a human child.¡±

    ¡°No one would believe it.¡±

    Carn smiled, recognizing that she meant the people of the mainland. ¡°They would feel threatened, no doubt.¡±

    They fell into silence, watching the birds flutter to and from the treehouse. The steady beat of their wings and their intricate pattern of flight soothed Ember into an almost trancelike state, and she was surprised when she noticed Carn trying to catch her attention again.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± he said, ¡°there¡¯s someplace I¡¯m dying to show you, and they close early on the weekends.¡±

    The two young women followed as he started over the path, walking parallel to Main Street. They descended slightly, passing underneath the treehouse¡ªwhich was less pleasant downwind¡ªpausing only when Carn required Naz¡¯s guidance. After only a moment, they skirted another tree trunk, coming up upon a thick wooden door engraved with the symbol of a curved dagger.

    Carn glanced at Naz knowingly, his ears perked and his ginger tail swishing in excitement. He gripped the handle, tugging open the door and holding it for Ember.

    Ember¡¯s eyes widened. Inside the small shop, every surface was lined with weapons. Axes of every size hung against the nearest wall, the largest with a blade larger than her head. Natural shelves held plates of armor,  helmets, and chainmail. Hardwood cases displayed ornamental daggers, some broad and others thin as a quill. There were swords, maces, lances, spears, bows, and countless others, many completely foreign.

    At the back of the store was a short desk, behind which a blonde woman was sharpening a knife against a stone. Her assured movements and lean muscle implied that she was a skilled fighter. Two striking, curved horns sprouted from the top of her forehead, arching backward over her back. For armor, she wore a vest of interlocking grey plates and a helmet custom-fitted with horn-shaped holes. Though she appeared to be a prey animal, she exuded assertiveness.

    ¡°Hello,¡± the shopkeeper said softly. Ember choked out a reply, finding her throat surprisingly uncooperative. Carn chuckled under his breath. ¡°What are you looking for today?¡±

    Naz pushed Ember forward. ¡°What weapon do you think would suit her?¡±

    The shopkeeper stepped around the counter, her gaze tracing Ember from head to toe. Gently, she lifted one of Ember¡¯s hands, tracing her palm and the joints of her fingers. Ember froze, feeling her face grow red, and prayed that the woman would not notice the bead of sweat beginning to make its way down her forehead. Do I have whatever she¡¯s looking for?

    After a full minute of scrutiny, the woman stepped back. ¡°From what I can tell,¡± she said, ¡°you¡¯ve been training, but not for long, and never with a sword or bow. Your muscles are lean, so you¡¯re more inclined to agility and stamina than brute strength. Do you know your source species?¡±

    Ember shook her head. ¡°No, but my suborder is serpentes.¡±

    The woman took a moment to consider, her eyes running over the weapons on the wall. ¡°In this case, a sword, pike, or bow might be a hindrance. At this stage, it¡¯s best to develop your body before learning to wield a completely new weapon¡­¡± she trailed off,  tapping her fingers against one arm. ¡°Wait! I know just the thing.¡±

    Quickly, she strode back around the counter, reaching beneath it to retrieve a sheathed knife. The sheath was hard leather, engraved with the symbol of a serpent wrapped around a chunk of roughly cut amber.

    ¡°We call this a fang knife,¡± the shopkeeper explained. ¡°It¡¯s the weapon of choice for many close-combat strikers. It¡¯s also discrete, so you can carry it wherever you go.¡±

    Ember took the knife from her outstretched hand, feeling an inexplicable feeling of trepidation. She unsheathed it slowly, revealing a wicked, gleaming blade. It was indeed fang-like, with a longer reach and less curvature than Naz¡¯s karambit. Its surface was marked with rippling patterns so that the light bounced off of it at odd angles.

    On the blade¡¯s surface, she could see her own reflection: her high cheekbones, accentuated by the hollow heat pits on her cheeks; her full olive eyes; and the wild strands of dark hair that had escaped from her ponytail. In the blurry, distorted image, she almost mistook herself for her mother.

    ¡°Let me show you something,¡± the woman continued to say,  taking the sheath from Ember and twisting the chunk of amber. It popped off in her hand, revealing a shallow compartment. ¡°This is a custom model,¡± she said. ¡°The compartment is for storing venom, which can be rubbed onto the blade or used as a poison.¡±

    Ember swallowed, her mouth dry. ¡°Who was this knife forged for?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± the shopkeeper replied, sounding slightly off-put. ¡°It bears the mark of my father, but it was retrieved from the mainland a couple of years ago. I found no mention of its owner in his records.¡±

    ¡°Where is he?¡± she pressed.

    ¡°He passed away years ago,¡± the woman said, confused.

    ¡°Do you know anything else? Like where it was retrieved from?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No. Whenever scouting parties go out onto the mainland, it¡¯s the protocol to return any retrieved weapons to their forger in Mendel if the wielder¡¯s family cannot be identified.¡±

    The knife sat solidly in Ember¡¯s hands, imbued with the same distorted familiarity as her hallucinogenic dream a few months before. ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± she said.

    The shopkeeper looked taken aback. ¡°Are you sure? I intended to show you this only as a model. This particular weapon is more expensive because it was forged by my father.¡±

    ¡°What is the price?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-five silver disks.¡±

    Ember looked to Naz for help, wishing that she had taken the time to familiarize herself with Mendel¡¯s currency. She knew that the silver disk was equal in worth to one hundred cacao seeds, but the particularities of the other alloys and gems exceeded her.

    ¡°That¡¯s equivalent to five gold disks or an opal,¡± Naz whispered. ¡°About three-fourths of your stipend.¡±

    The sum seemed trivial to Ember. She would receive a second stipend after finals, but another buyer could purchase the knife before she could identify this enigmatic feeling. ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± she said, her voice unwavering. ¡°And please give me a copy of its records.¡±

 30: Cheers to Mendel

    Ember repositioned herself on the tree root, digging her fork into a cut of chicken. Her mouth watered at the taste: complex, juicy, and fresh. The dark meat had been baked in butter, broth, and herbs, infusing it with flavor. It was a distinctly different experience from the dining hall food, which was prepared with quickness in mind.

    The restaurant, the Hummingbird House, was the perfect location to watch the city wind down. Its outdoor pavilion was tucked against the base of a banyan tree, enshrouded by hanging prop roots. If she looked upward through the gap in the tree¡¯s crown, she could see Linnaeans on their commutes back home. To her right, she could hear the clopping of draft animals¡¯ hooves.

    True to its name, miniature, picturesque bushes with tube-shaped pink flowers created the perfect environment for the elusive hummingbird. They hovered four or five feet off of the ground, their tiny wings beating with frantic frequency. Beneath them, almost comically round quail roamed the forest floor for scraps. A little wooden coup with a wire door¡ªintended to protect them at night¡ªsat at the back of the pavilion.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± Carn asked, and Ember paused mid-bite. The weight of the knife against her thigh left no question that he was referring to her impulsive purchase. Though the strange connection had faded since she had left the weapons shop, she had the sense that it could reawaken at any moment.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, either,¡± she admitted. ¡°It felt like the only choice.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your reason? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you make a decision that wasn¡¯t based on logic.¡±

    Ember shrugged. ¡°Aren¡¯t I Linnaean?¡±

    ¡°Point taken.¡±

    In the moment of silence that followed, a group of Linnaeans in soot-colored overalls passed overhead, engaged in rigorous conversation about a recent fight in the division one tournament. From their clothing, Ember guessed that they worked underground or in manufacturing, two sectors she knew next to nothing about. In fact, before that day she had only interacted with admins, professors, and researchers, allowing her to forget that any city would need shopkeepers, butchers, engineers, and hundreds of other professions to function.

    ¡°I know we¡¯re only freshmen, but what do you all want to do after graduation?¡± she asked, directing the question to both of her friends.

    Naz glanced at Carn. ¡°Unlike you, I don¡¯t think higher education is in the cards for either of us,¡± she said good-naturedly. ¡°I¡¯d like to work in human relations. Essentially, condensing and interpreting the information we receive from mainland scouts and helping to oversee negotiations with the humans.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Carn said thoughtfully. ¡°Before my injury, I was considering training to be a scout in my last two years of university. I¡¯ve never been a brilliant tracker, and now it would be even more difficult. Maybe teaching?¡±

    Ember considered it, deciding that both of their choices suited them. On the other hand, her future was veiled with uncertainty. The instability of the Linnaean treaty¡ªreinforced by the abuse she¡¯d witnessed during her kidnapping¡ªhardly seemed conducive to determining her career aspirations. ¡°Truthfully,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m having trouble looking past tomorrow. I can¡¯t help but feel that everything could come apart at any moment.¡±

    Carn gave her a sympathetic look. ¡°That¡¯s how I felt when I first came to Mendel, too,¡± he replied. ¡°You¡¯ve only been here, what, three months? You¡¯ll settle in by the time the year ends.¡±

    Ember shook her head, slightly frustrated. ¡°It¡¯s not just that. After my mother disappeared, my father was the only person by my side. When we moved to Ciradyl, he became a low-ranking miner just to support us, and wouldn¡¯t let me leave the academy to help pay the bills.¡± The image of him cooking a meal in their small kitchen flitted through her mind, making her voice tighten. ¡°On the night that I was taken from Ciradyl, he encouraged me to run away even though he would have been killed in retribution. How can I live peacefully here knowing that I left him behind? He could be rotting away in a mainland prison.¡±

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    Both of her friends looked back at her with wide, surprised eyes, and she realized that she had shared something deeply personal, a rare occurrence. She looked down at her plate, suddenly self-conscious.

    ¡°The mainland is a cruel place,¡± Carn said softly. ¡°Maybe Mendel is too good to me if it made me forget what it felt like to lose everyone in my hometown.¡±

    Ember¡¯s expression softened. From what Carn had said and from her readings for history class, she knew that almost every family in Bayport had been impacted by the slave trade. In the orphanage where Carn had grown up, a steady stream of difficult children¡ªCarn¡¯s only family¡ªwould have been sent out to sea each year. Out of all of her peers, he probably related to her situation the most.

    ¡°I understand your determination to find your father,¡± Naz added gently, ¡°but do you really need to fight that harpy eagle? Give me some time to look for another way.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ember consented, though she doubted that the pisces would be successful. If there was an easier way to contact her father, she trusted that Orthus would have told her. ¡°Enough of this,¡± she said, raising her glass. ¡°Today has been special. I¡¯m grateful to you both for bringing me here. I never imagined that such a place could exist.¡±

    The heavy mood dissipated, and her friends smiled, touching their glasses to hers. ¡°Cheers to Mendel,¡± Carn said.

    ***

    The new scales on Ember¡¯s fist gleamed as she threw a cross, catching Sam on the cheek. One hand shot up to his face, the other held wildly in front of him to fend her off. Though she had controlled her power, her angular knuckles had sliced the skin just below his eye.

    ¡°Can you continue?¡± Mr. Badger asked, looking down his snout with a firm expression. Sam nodded, his eyes narrowed in determination even as his mouth hung open, desperately sucking in air. If he quit now, he would receive a low score on his one-month evaluation.

    In a choppy, awkward motion, Sam turned out his front foot and swung at Ember with a roundhouse kick. She lifted her knee before it made contact, blocking his foot with her shin. She waited as he caught his balance, her eyes shifting to meet Mr. Badger¡¯s to see if he realized what she had: she could have bested her opponent at least three times already.

    She let him strike at her again, moving her body just enough to avoid his punches. He grew exhausted, sweat soaking his clothes and flying from his face. She could tell that his technique had improved, yet his hits seemed to travel through the air as slowly as if they were fighting underwater, and the set of his shoulders gave away the trajectory of each strike.

    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Badger nod slightly. Finish him.

    For a moment, Ember didn¡¯t move. She felt the ground solidly beneath both feet, a sensation that traveled up her calves and into her thighs. Her muscles tightened, and she sprang forward explosively, a knee outstretched to catch Sam between his ribs. As she made contact, she watched his face devolve into panic: an expression she herself had worn when faced with the overwhelming pressure of the rogue.

    He stumbled backward, gasping for breath, and she took the opportunity to turn, planting both hands on the forest floor and whipping around with one leg outstretched. Her ankle caught Sam¡¯s front leg, sweeping him clean off of his feet. He hit the ground hard, coughing as he fought to suck air back into his lungs.

    Ember stood, dusting her hands off on her pants as she processed what had happened. Mr. Badger remained quiet, so the only sound was her opponent¡¯s labored panting. There was an unexpectedly solemn feeling in the air¡ªthe result of Sam being left behind. In their spar only two weeks before, Ember had won by a narrow margin, but now, the gap between them had widened to the point of no return.

    As Mr. Badger pulled Sam to his feet, Ember retrieved her fang knife from a nearby rock, returning it to its sheath. It hadn¡¯t left her side in the week and a half since she had purchased it in the city. Since then, she had spent half of her training time teaching herself to wield it.

    The instructor finished checking Sam over, patted him on the back, and made his way over to Ember. ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± he said in his characteristically low voice. ¡°You¡¯ve improved by leaps and bounds since you first joined my class, and I can tell it¡¯s not just from talent. Your movements show confidence that can only be developed through experience. You¡¯ll receive the maximum score on your evaluation.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± Ember replied. She looked back at Sam, who was sitting in the dirt with his legs stretched in front of him. ¡°What happens now?¡±

    ¡°There are still some things for you to learn before you graduate from the beginners class. Until then, I¡¯m going to pair you with Jisu, since she¡¯s in a similar situation.¡± He pointed across the training grounds at a young, black-haired woman who was shadowboxing in preparation for her evaluation. Most of her visible skin was covered in sleek black fur, and her ears were distinctly feline. From her movements, Ember could tell that she was a practiced fighter.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember said again, inclining her head. ¡°I¡¯ll introduce myself after her fight.¡±

 31: Petrification

    Jisu stood across from her partner, tightening her hand wraps meticulously. Her expression was sharp and centered, and her long, whip-like tail swished slowly behind her. She was lean, and her muscles were easily visible outside of her sleeveless shirt and boxing shorts. A pair of sizable canines hung over her lower lip.

    Her partner, a Linnaean male in his twenties, was in a similar stage of development. A pair of long antennae sprouted from his skull, and inch-long orange spines lined his calves. He had short, nonfunctional wings, and plates of exoskeleton protected his extremities. His leg bounced nervously as he waited for Jisu to finish her preparations.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she said, assuming a boxing stance.

    Mr. Badger nodded. ¡°You may begin.¡±

    Jisu stalked forward with her ears flattened against her head. Her opponent shrank back, hesitating. ¡°Don¡¯t wait for her to attack!¡± the instructor shouted. The insect gave a small nod, darting forward to strike Jisu¡¯s head with a series of punches. He was quick, but Jisu reacted automatically, ducking beneath his strikes and circling him. She spun on one foot, her other arcing through the air in a perfect crescent to connect with the side of his face.

    He let out a yelp, springing backward to put distance between them. He could jump surprisingly high, but the ability did little when used only to retreat.

    Jisu pounced forward, pressuring him, and they exchanged a series of quick, superficial blows. He jumped again, attempting a kick with his powerful legs, but Jisu rolled beneath it, popping up behind him. Her technique was more advanced than the rest of the class: she used her catlike strength and agility to compliment the strikes they¡¯d learned, beginning to develop the style unique to Linnaean fighters.

    Ember drew closer, completely engrossed. If only he would use his jumping height offensively¡­!

    For a split second, an opening appeared in the insect¡¯s defenses. Without hesitation, Jisu extended her claws, slashing his body diagonally. He stumbled back, shocked, as his torn shirt fluttered between them. It was a clear, but terrifying message. She has incredible control. An inch more, and she would have disemboweled him.

    Ember¡¯s eyes flitted between the two opponents, painting a clear picture. Though Jisu had yet to injure the insect, he had been incapacitated. His thin chest trembled as he breathed, rising and falling with panicked frequency.

    The cat¡¯s focus didn¡¯t waver for a second as she watched him. She stepped forward tauntingly slowly, and Ember shivered, reminded of the battle with the margay. When she attacked again, her strikes were unfaltering, and they broke down the insect¡¯s defenses until they were tattered beyond repair.

    When she could push her opponent no further, Jisu leaped into the air. She lifted one leg above her head, her emerald eyes aflame, the picture of deadly grace. With the force of an axe chopping wood, her heel smashed down onto the insect¡¯s skull, rendering him unconscious.

    Ember shuddered, both enthralled and horrified. So that¡¯s what true talent looks like.

    Mr. Badger quickly stooped to the insect¡¯s level, taking his pulse and examining his head. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± he announced, ¡°his exoskeleton prevented a concussion.¡±

    Ember shifted uneasily. Did Jisu know that would happen? Either way, she¡¯s merciless. She caught Mr. Badger¡¯s gaze, tilting her head. How am I supposed to train with her?

    The insect awoke, occupying the instructor¡¯s attention. Mr. Badger handed him a canteen of water, assigning another student to walk with him to the infirmary once he regained his bearings. Though Ember had grown accustomed to the Linnaean¡¯s cavalier attitude toward injuries, she pitied him as he stood, his head bowed with dejection. It wasn¡¯t your fault, your opponent was just too strong.

    Mr. Badger released the class and then spoke briefly with Jisu, who Ember had no doubt had received the top score in the evaluations. When their conversation was finished, Ember brushed past him, swallowing uneasily. ¡°This will be a good challenge for you,¡± he said under his breath, though she could not tell if the words were meant as a warning or encouragement.

    The cat was kneading her leg muscles as Ember approached. ¡°Hello,¡± Ember said awkwardly, and Jisu looked up, her face scuffed with dirt from her fight. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if Mr. Badger informed you, but we¡¯ll be partners until the next evaluation.¡±

    Jisu nodded. ¡°You¡¯re the one who defeated the margay. I watched your spar: your technique is decent, but you don¡¯t fight like a Linnaean.¡±

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    Ember tilted her head, unsure if she should be offended or curious. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a snake, yes? Snakes are ambush predators; they catch their prey off-guard, and they strike fast. You were trying to conserve your energy in the fight against your partner, right?¡±

    Ember nodded. Indeed, she had been afraid of tiring too quickly, even though Sam¡¯s skills had not posed much of a threat. ¡°That¡¯s the first issue. You¡¯re at a disadvantage the longer a fight drags on. At the first opportunity, put all of your speed and strength into one attack.¡± She held up a finger. ¡°Force is weakest when it¡¯s dispersed. If you concentrate your energy on a single point, there¡¯s no one at our level who will be able to block it.¡±

    Ember gaze sharpened. Jisu had applied scientific theory to fighting, an act Ember had considered more innate than logical. If she too could use her ability to reason¡ªone of her greatest assets¡ª to improve her technique, she too might be able to accelerate her rate of improvement.

    ¡°I appreciate your perspective,¡± Ember said, clasping Jisu¡¯s hand to pull her to her feet. ¡°I look forward to training together.¡±

    ***

    Ember stretched her hands above her head as she exited the lecture hall, letting out a yawn. Professor Tinsely¡¯s lecture on the cardiovascular system had been unusually dull. Though she was still a strong student, with only three weeks until finals, her motivation was beginning to dwindle. The late nights spent training added to the increased difficulty of waking up for her early morning classes.

    As she mentally planned for the rest of her day, she itched at the scales that were growing along the side of her neck. They were hard but flexible, embedded in the first layer of her skin in patches of three or more. She had begun to grow fond of their gold color, as well as the extra protection that they provided during sparring sessions with her new training partner.

    Something stirred within Ember¡¯s chest, taking her focus away from scheduling. She turned her head slightly, looking over her left shoulder. Not even three yards away, a figure was leaning against the tree that she had just passed. His dark feathers and well-developed wings left no doubt as to his identity.

    Roland pushed himself off of the tree, walking leisurely toward her with his arms clasped behind his back. His expression was relaxed, but the tenseness of his shoulders betrayed his unease. Ember¡¯s eyes traced his lean, hard muscles¡ªtraining with the other rankers had clearly treated him well.

    ¡°You were waiting for me.¡±

    He shrugged, and his wings flared open slightly. She opened her mouth to comment on the midterm ranks, but something about the hard look on his face made her swallow the words.

    ¡°You lied to me,¡± he said accusatorily. ¡°You¡¯re not a boar, you¡¯re a snake.¡±

    Ember shrugged, unsure where the conversation was going. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that at the time. Besides, I¡¯ve never asked about you.¡±

    ¡°Never mind that,¡± he snapped, and she took a step back. ¡°Tell me your species.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know it,¡± Ember answered honestly. ¡°Why are you so worked up?¡±

    He gritted his teeth, and a taloned hand darted forward, gripping her bicep hard enough to puncture the skin. ¡°Tell me, damn it!¡±

    ¡°What the hell?¡± Ember yanked her arm back, finding him unyielding. She looked around, sure that someone must be nearby, only to realize that he had ambushed her on a less-traveled segment of the path.

    She raised her eyes to his, preparing to kick him where he wouldn¡¯t recover easily. Instead, the intensity of hatred in his deep orange eyes sent a shockwave through her body. Her infrared channels opened, painting his body red and yellow. His wings unfurled, casting a shadow over both of them. Desperately, she tried to pull away, but her body remained frozen in place.

    Something clicked. Like bloodlust, what she was experiencing was a phenomenon unique to the relationship between predator and prey: petrification, the temporary inability to move when faced with the natural predator of one¡¯s source species. She unleashed a slew of swear words inside her head, managing only to struggle weakly against him. Shit.

    ¡°I knew it,¡± Roland sneered, leaning closer. ¡°But if I¡¯m your predator, then why do I feel-¡±

    Ember closed her eyes, focusing all of her energy on breaking free from the petrification. Her senses returned all at once, and one hand shot to her side, unsheathing the fang knife and swiping at his torso. His face twisted into a mask of fury, but his eyes flashed with something else: fear. He batted the knife away with a wing, sending it flying across the path.

    Ember darted to the side, striking his head with her leading fist. The blow caught him by surprise, but he managed to deflect most of it so that it only grazed his chin.

    He sidestepped, beating his wings to throw her off balance. He appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her neck in a hold that kept her from moving even an inch.

    His grip tightened, and Ember¡¯s eyes watered. Does he intend to kill me? Like a rabid animal, she bit down on his arm with all of her strength. A metallic taste spread across her tongue, and he grunted, flinging her to the ground.

    Her head hit the path first, jarring her entire body. She looked up, dazed by the pain, to see Roland looking at the crescent-shaped bite mark on his arm with a mixture of confusion and anger. So he wasn¡¯t completely in control, she realized groggily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he muttered, giving her one last look before walking quickly down the path.

    Ember pulled herself up, rubbing her head. She felt disgustingly lousy, not only because of the pain but also because she had survived only by his mercy. Her jaw felt odd, and when she opened it, a pool of blood and saliva poured onto the soil in front of her¡ªand with it, a pearly-white canine tooth.

 32: The Linnaean Gene

    ¡°Here,¡± Naz said, passing an ice pack to Ember. She raised it to her lip, grimacing. The area was swollen and tender, and her head throbbed with pain. Naz pressed a hand to Ember¡¯s forehead, looking at Carn with concerned eyes. ¡°The fever is getting worse.¡±

    ¡°Tell me one more time,¡± Carn said, folding his arms over his chest. ¡°This is from a training accident?¡±

    Ember nodded, knowing that he didn¡¯t believe her, but thankful that he didn¡¯t press. The last thing she needed was the hotheaded fox deciding to confront her rival. ¡°Okay,¡± he said, sounding entirely unconvinced. ¡°I need to go to class now, but I¡¯ll come back tonight. If it¡¯s not better by then, you¡¯re going back to the infirmary.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Ember said, waving him away. She¡¯d taken the first trip immediately after the encounter with Roland, armed with a different lie about what had happened. They¡¯d been unable to reattach her tooth, which had cracked in half after hitting the rocky trail. The mysterious fever had risen steadily in the three days since.

    The moment the door to her dorm room shut behind Carn, Naz leaned forward. ¡°It was that hawk, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    Ember groaned. ¡°How did you know?¡± she asked painfully.

    Naz pointed an accusatory finger. ¡°You act so weird about that guy. Why won¡¯t you report him? This is assault.¡±

    Ember gave her a look, attempting to explain herself. ¡°Don¡¯t act like¡­ this is uncommon among Linnaeans. The last thing I need¡­ is to be branded a coward. Besides¡­¡± she trailed off, thinking of the conflicted look in Roland¡¯s eyes. ¡°Something weird¡­ is going on. Don¡¯t think¡­ he was off of the treatment¡­ but we reacted to each other so strongly.¡±

    Naz sighed, moving Ember¡¯s sweat-soaked hair from her neck. ¡°With a direct predator, that¡¯s not impossible. Especially if your subspecies are from the same region.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that. He¡¯s¡­ afraid of me, but what sort of snake¡­ threatens a hawk?¡±

    Naz shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s beyond me. If anyone would know, it would be the headmaster.¡±

    Ember leaned back on her pillows, closing her eyes. Yes, the man who has never given me a straight answer. Perhaps it is time for me to see him again.

    ***

    Ember looked up, causing a fat, cold raindrop to splatter on her cheek. Ahead, wrapping around the tree trunk like a serpent, was a spectacularly designed treehouse. It spanned several stories, jutting out onto the sturdiest branches and connecting to ladders that reached into the canopy. The entire complex was veiled in a curtain of falling rain, lit only by the occasional strike of lightning in the distance.

    Cold and shivering, she pulled her hood tightly over her head, sending rivulets of water cascading down her arms. She approached the tree¡¯s base, where an unassuming door was embedded into the wood itself. It was an atypical, eccentric sight: exactly what she would have expected of the entrance to Corax¡¯s study.

    She turned the door handle, finding it unlocked, and stepped into the trunk. It was dark and musty, and smelled sweet, like sap. She pulled a match from her bag, lighting it and holding it in front of her eyes, and was greeted with a narrow, winding staircase.

    She touched the wall, momentarily baffled. From the outside, the fir was indistinguishable from any other, but it had been shaped to contain two layers, the gap between which housed the stairs.

    Ember took each step cautiously. Though the air was still, the match flickered, and she held it tightly between both hands for fear of extinguishing the flame. The dense wood swallowed up all sounds, and she had to strain her ears to hear the pattering of rain and the gentle plodding of her footsteps. In the edge of her vision, insects scurried away into the darkness.

    Looking back at the faint light of the entrance, she began to rethink the choice to use her infirmary-mandated break from training to see the headmaster. Since it had been her first day back in class since the accident (she had skipped Monday due to the rising fever) she was already fatigued. Now, the sensationless stairwell was setting her teeth on edge, worsening her headache, but turning back into the stormy forest was no more appealing.

    She continued faster, dragging one hand against the outer wall to keep her bearings. After a dozen circulations, warm light spilled onto the stairs, marking the transition into the treehouse. She blinked away the ache in her eyes, waiting for them to adjust, and looked around.

    Directly ahead was a short hallway that terminated in a door marked with Corax¡¯s name and title. The walls were made from planks of wood and adorned with various art pieces: portraits of Linnaeans in white coats, the shed antlers of a moose, and head-sized moths preserved in glass frames. There was a single, small window whose pane was dimmed by streaming raindrops.

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    Gathering her courage, she gripped the iron door knocker, banging it against the wood. The sound reverberated through the hallway, shaking the foundations of the treehouse. When it went unanswered, she sighed, resting her head against the door. The secretary of the registrar had given her directions to Corax¡¯s study, but he hadn¡¯t known when the headmaster was most likely to be in. He¡¯d informed Ember that she might have better luck calling on him unannounced than waiting for an appointment¡ªa statement that she was now questioning.

    ¡°Come in,¡± a gravelly voice ordered, and Ember leaped a foot into the air, whipping her head to the side and jarring the wound from her missing tooth. When she realized that Corax was not, in fact, leaning over her shoulder, she inspected the doorframe more closely, finding a horn-shaped instrument fitted into its surface. A thin metal pipe attached to one end and disappeared into the ceiling. How curious; it¡¯s like a more advanced version of the two cups and a string contraption that children use in their games.

    Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped into the lowest story of the study.

    At first glance, she almost believed that she was inside the office of a madman. There was no discernable order to the multitude of oddities strewn about the first floor. Skulls¡ªboth animal and human¡ªsat in glass display cases, glass weights propped open scrolls atop wooden tables, half-finished maps clung to the walls, and telescopes pointed out of open windows. Artifacts, some precious and others seemingly worthless, perched on every surface.

    Pain forgotten, Ember looked at them hungrily, itching to dissect them. Knowing Corax, not a single item is without use.

    In the middle of the room, a wide, velvet-lined staircase led up to the second story. A shadow danced over the stairs, hinting at Corax¡¯s presence. ¡°Headmaster?¡± Ember called.

    ¡°Come up, come up,¡± he encouraged, and Ember gripped the banister, taking the stairs at a measured pace.

    Unlike the lower story, the room was relatively open. A sturdy, rectangular table sat in its center, atop which was an elaborate, three-dimensional map of Mendel and the mainland. Ember scanned it quickly, unable to contain her curiosity. She spotted entire cities, including Ciradyl, represented by miniature wooden buildings surrounded by black circles. Tiny trees marked the great woods, which she noted extended much further than she had imagined, almost spilling off of the southern edge of the table. To the west of the mainland was the sea, a wall of rolling waves that dwarfed the model ships.

    The table¡¯s organizer¡ªpresumably Corax¡ªhad placed tall, red markers at various, seemingly unconnected locations on the map: in the deep forest, in the middle of the sea, in the blazing central desert, and in the icy mountains of the north. Even as she committed them to memory, uneasiness spread through her chest, prompted by the sense that she was seeing something she had no right to see.

    Corax cleared his throat. ¡°Ms. Whitlock?¡± She turned her head away from the table. The headmaster was looking up from a microscope, his quill poised mid-notation. He wore a white lab coat that hung nearly to the floor, covering his feathered legs.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ember said. ¡°I¡¯ve interrupted your work.¡±

    He shook his head, gesturing toward himself with a spindly hand. ¡°Come. I wish to show you this.¡±

    She walked to his side, already silenced by his brusque manner. He stood up from his chair, allowing space for both of them to lean over the small desk. Next to the microscope was a detailed diagram of a double-helix structure, which Ember recognized as a strand of DNA.

    With a taloned finger, he pointed to a segment of the structure. ¡°Do you know what this is?¡±

    Ember ran her tongue over her dry lips, trying to recall what she had studied. ¡°It¡¯s a gene, the basic unit of heredity.¡±

    Corax nodded, seemingly pleased. ¡°Not just any gene, child. This is the root of all of our struggles and gifts, the reason we take on the characteristics of our source species: the Linnaean gene.¡±

    Ember looked at it carefully, her brow furrowing. ¡°But Professor, the scientists at the biology lab said that our mutations are due to an error during DNA replication; that when polymerase synthesizes DNA, it inserts the wrong order of nucleotides. Like the pattern for a fur coat instead of hair.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. But why would a polymerase go haywire? There must be a trigger.¡±

    Ember began to catch on. ¡°This gene controls the polymerase enzyme, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    The headmaster smiled. ¡°Yes. This is the key. I believe that Linnaean DNA must be distinct from that of humans; it carries this gene, which is capable of modifying polymerase.¡± He looked down, tracing the segment gently. ¡°This is the source of our power. Whether it was given to us by some god or the devil himself, I know not.¡±

    Ember gazed at the diagram, lost in thought. If the Linnaean affliction is not the result not of an error, but of a gene, it means that we are fundamentally different from our human counterparts. A shiver ran through her body, and she clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. It was a dangerous idea, one that could be used to argue that one race was indeed superior to the other.

    Corax wiped his mouth, breaking out of some sort of trance. ¡°Surely you did not come to hear me ramble on.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes,¡± Ember stuttered, gathering herself. ¡°I came because I recently had an encounter with Roland, the second-ranked student in the freshman class. He¡¯s a black hawk-eagle, and we share a connection, but not for the better.¡± She resisted the urge to touch her purpling jaw. ¡°Last time we met, I experienced petrification, but  he was also wary of me.¡±

    The headmaster looked down at her, dissecting her with his dark eyes. ¡°Shall I assume that this ¡®encounter¡¯ was responsible for your missing tooth?¡±

    Ember¡¯s tongue inadvertently flew to the gap between her teeth. ¡°Perhaps.¡±

    To her surprise, he pushed no further. ¡°Why do you need my help?¡±

    ¡°I have the sense that something unusual is afoot, and I fear that if I do not know my species soon, the situation will worsen.¡±

    Corax considered her. ¡°Fine. I can see that your mutations have progressed sufficiently since we last talked, and I see no reason to deny one of the university¡¯s best students. Follow me, I¡¯ll tell you what you wish to know.¡±

 33: Hemotoxin

    When the headmaster agreed to help her, Ember sighed, failing to conceal her relief. ¡°The relationship that you¡¯re describing is indeed rare,¡± he began. ¡°Bloodlust and petrification are usually specific to predator and prey, but there is one exception. What exists between you and Roland Raiford is the phenomenon of natural enemies.¡±

    He turned, walking briskly down the stairs, and Ember rushed to follow. Without pause, he pulled a tome from the bookshelf and cleared a space on a nearby table with a sweep of his hand. By memory, he flipped to the book¡¯s center, thumbing through the pages until he located a lifelike drawing of a black hawk-eagle.

    ¡°This is Roland¡¯s species,¡± he said, taking a moment to scan the paragraph beneath the drawing. ¡°Spizaetus tyrannus, originating from the region around the equator. It¡¯s a relatively small eagle, but its agility and strength allow it to hunt large prey, including snakes. It prefers humid forests, so much of its prey is arboreal.¡±

    She looked up at him, sensing that there was more to say. ¡°Until a decade ago, this was all that I could have told you. That¡¯s when the author of this book, Dr. Salvatore Thompson, returned from the untamed southern lands.¡± Ember fidgeted, willing him to continue faster. ¡°He observed that some boa and python species had pit organs for infrared detection, but as non-venomous constrictors, both posed no threat to aerial predators. There was one taxonomic family, though, that raptors seemed to avoid: the viper.¡±

    Ember listened attentively, hardly breathing. ¡°Members of this family have one of the most potent venoms on earth, and raptors are not immune. When a misguided raptor did hunt a viper, Dr. Thompson observed a success rate of less than fifty percent. And when a small raptor perched in a viper¡¯s territory, the roles were often reversed.¡±

    Ember wiped her mouth, meeting his gaze slowly. ¡°How strong is it? The venom, I mean.¡±

    He closed the book. ¡°It varies from species to species, but it is not unusual for a single dose to contain enough venom to kill twenty human men.¡±

    Ember gripped the edge of the table, her head spinning. No wonder Roland was afraid of me. Her tongue once again flew to the gap between her teeth, this time expectantly. Will a fang descend where my canine once was?

    ¡°Stay here,¡± Corax said. He crossed the room, only to return a moment later with an empty flask and two liquid-filled vials: one a dark red, and the other a cloudy white.

    ¡°Professor, what-¡± she began, but he held up a finger, indicating for her to watch silently. She closed her mouth, trying to stay patient as he uncapped the vial of red liquid and held it over the flask. A viscous stream flowed from the vial, filling the flask a third of the way.

    ¡°This is human blood,¡± he explained, and Ember¡¯s stomach turned unexpectedly. ¡°And this,¡± he raised the vial of cloudy liquid, ¡°is the venom of the jumping viper.¡± He titled the vial, tapping just a couple of drops into the blood. Then, he grabbed the flask by the mouth, swirling its contents.

    After about thirty seconds, he placed the flask gently back onto the table. Ember observed his movements carefully, increasingly fearful of what he intended to show her.

    His thin, meticulous fingers re-gripped the flask, inverting it a foot above the tray. Ember watched, horrified, as a gel-like blob of blood slid downward. It tattered on the glass lip, then collided with the tray with an audible plop. ¡°Like the venom of most viper species, this is a hemotoxin,¡± Corax explained. ¡°This is what it does to a person¡¯s insides. It is a slow, incredibly painful death, one in which blood coagulates, the organs fail, and the tissue rots from the inside out.¡±

    Ember nodded once, weakly. Then, she turned her head to one side, her stomach heaving, and vomited all over the floor of Corax¡¯s office.

    ***

    Lightning cracked outside, illuminating the interior of the study with a flash of white light. A rumble of thunder followed soon after, powerful enough to rattle the treehouse. Corax used his foot to scoot a metal bucket across the floor, where it caught a minor leak with a ping.

    Ember wrapped her hands more tightly around the ceramic tea mug. The dark liquid within reflected her drawn, mortified expression. ¡°I¡¯m so embarrassed,¡± she said, speaking up to make herself heard over the roar of the rain. Everything had caught up to her at once: the day¡¯s exhaustion, the constant headache, and the shock of what she¡¯d learned.

    One corner of the headmaster¡¯s mouth turned up slightly. ¡°It is not such an unusual reaction.¡± She grimaced, turning her head to the left to avoid looking at the wet spot on the floor. Corax had given her space while she cleaned, a disgusting proposition that had almost caused a repeat of the original incident. Nearby, the blob of coagulated blood remained macabrely on the table.

    Ember brushed a hand over her face, which felt hot to the touch. ¡°What are the chances that I¡¯ll develop functional venom glands?¡±

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    Corax tapped his fingers on the table. ¡°Based on the precedent, it is not unlikely. Still, it will take some time for the accessary organs to develop.¡±

    ¡°Should we increase my dose of the treatment?¡±

    ¡°Describe your symptoms to the pharmacist when you pick up your next prescription, and they¡¯ll decide. There¡¯s nothing urgent about your development; I¡¯d say it¡¯s an ideal progression.¡±

    Ember rested her head between her hands. I wanted to become stronger, but not like this.

    ¡°Take heart,¡± he encouraged. ¡°I suspect that you will find your mutations to be a gift rather than a curse.¡±

    She nodded halfheartedly. Any situation in which I need to kill twenty men would be a curse in itself.

    The conversation lulled, and the sound of the storm outside, the scratching of Corax¡¯s quill, and the splashing of the water into the bucket took its place. Ember sipped her drink, waiting for the rain to abate. The warm liquid soothed her mood, and she recovered enough to continue observing the headmaster¡¯s collection. Flickering lantern light illuminated the maps, some of which showed the constellations, the playground of the gods. Her eyes traced each point, committing them to memory. A curious thought took place in her mind: that if her knowledge of the world could be contained onto a single needlepoint, Corax¡¯s would be a vast, inky pool.

    About thirty minutes passed before the storm moved north, leaving the campus behind. Ember stood up, donning her damp coat once more. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°you¡¯ve given me much to think about.¡±

    Corax inclined his head. ¡°Come back any time¡ªpreferably on a settled stomach.¡±

    ***

    It was a boisterous Friday afternoon. The sound of upbeat folk music rose over the forest, overlapping with thousands of cacophonous voices. Vendors had set up shop for acres around the hippodrome, enticing prospective customers with mouth-watering dishes and merchandise in support of both fighters. Students dashed between booths, eager to spend their midterm stipends, and more than a few cups of sweet alcohol were grasped in relaxed hands. The animals sensed the excitement, and several brave individuals wandered through the crowd, rooting for scraps.

    The surrounding trees had been richly decorated with garlands of flowers and nuts. They attracted droves of birds and squirrels, which balanced along the fibrous twine for a nibble. Some leaped to the shoulders of nearby Linnaeans, coveting their prizes.

    Naz jumped up, grabbing a purple flower and pushing it behind Ember¡¯s ear. Ember gave her a small smile in return, grateful for the reassurance. She had agreed to accompany her friends only at their insistence; though the headache had lessened enough for her to begin training again, she had yet to fully recover her mental fortitude.

    Still, she could not help but be awed by the pre-match celebration. It was the largest gathering she had ever seen, and growing by the minute as Linnaeans arrived from their workplaces in carriages and on draft animals. She kept close to Carn¡¯s side, trusting him to lead them safely to their hippodrome seats.

    ¡°Here,¡± Morgan exclaimed, appearing behind them with a handful of paper funnels. She distributed them evenly, much to Carn¡¯s delight.

    ¡°I knew it was the right idea to invite you,¡± he announced.

    Naz rolled her eyes. ¡°The right idea, maybe, but it wasn¡¯t yours. Give Ember some credit.¡±

    Only half-listening,  Ember looked inside her portion, sniffing the contents. The funnel was piled high with cinnamon-covered pecans, a common dessert in Mendel. She pinched one between her fingers, biting it in half. Though it wasn¡¯t meat, she found the taste pleasantly unique, and she satisfied her interest with a couple more before surrendering the remainder to Carn.

    The four took their time wading through the crowd, stopping to look at the various goods. At a booth with a grill, Ember indulged in four strips of bacon for herself and a spit of grilled insects for Morgan. Carn bought a flask of warm berry wine, and they passed it between them for the rest of the journey. In the crisp air of late November, its warmth was more than welcome.

    The sound of the music surged as they neared the entrance to the hippodrome. Morgan looked at Ember mischievously, grabbing her hand and dragging her in the direction of the band. Carn and Naz jogged closely behind, their faces split into wide grins as if they knew exactly what she was planning.

    A band of seven was playing from atop a five-foot-tall wooden platform surrounded by a large crowd. The listeners had formed a decently sized semicircle, in the middle of which a dozen partners were executing a brisk, lighthearted dance. Their feet moved quickly over the forest floor, kicking up the fallen autumn leaves. They spun around each other, their laughs bubbling in the air like a birdsong.

    It was a beautiful, spontaneous dance. Through the rapid, almost frantic movements, even the beginners blended into the whole. At random, one of the dancers was tossed into the air or slid between someone¡¯s legs. Partners were swapped at only a nod, and others were snatched unexpectedly from the crowd by joyous friends. All the while, the spectators shouted words of encouragement.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Morgan said, looking at Ember from the corner of her eye.

    ¡°No!¡± Ember insisted. ¡°No, no, no!¡±

    Someone pushed her from behind, and she stumbled into the clearing with Morgan by her side. She looked back to see Carn¡¯s smug grin, which was wiped from his face as Naz dragged him in after them.

    ¡°Relax!¡± Morgan shouted, grabbing Ember¡¯s shoulder with one hand and her wrist with the other. Patiently, she showed her how to step forward and back, creating a rising and falling pattern that followed the cadence of the music.

    Though they were moving slower than some of the others, Ember could sense that they did not stand out altogether. The wine had dulled her overactive mind, and she let Morgan guide her to and fro to the seemingly endless song. She found herself dancing with Carn and then with Naz, both of whom took up the mantle as her guide with only a moment of uncertainty. A kaleidoscope of horns, fur, claws, and scales whirled around her.

    It wasn¡¯t until Morgan pulled her away from the clearing that her senses returned. The four friends looked at each other, their breaths heavy and their faces slick with sweat.

    Carn grinned, his tousled fur making him look like a farm dog after a long day of play. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said, ¡°I want to get good seats for the last match of the season!¡±

 34: The Spitting Spider vs. The Electric Eel

    Ember hiked up her pant leg, taking a big step to the next row of hippodrome seats. ¡°Are we nearly there?¡± Morgan asked from behind, her question interrupted by a panting breath.

    ¡°Almost!¡± Carn answered, bounding up another two rows.

    Naz rolled her eyes. She grabbed Ember¡¯s arm, pulling herself up to compensate for her short stature. Together, they caught up to Carn, who was standing with his hands on his hips like a king surveying his kingdom. Naz offered Morgan a hand, hauling her up next to them.

    Ember turned around, looking over the hippodrome. It was a spectacular view¡ªthe ovular field stretched out below, lined with endless rows of stone seats. Around them, the massive trees rose above the hippodrome walls on all sides, their needles rustling in the gentle breeze.

    The four Linnaeans settled onto the stone, using their jackets as cushions. Ember sat on the end, listening as her friends struck up an idle conversation. She slipped her hand inside her pocket, fiddling with the pointy end of the ticket stub, and raised her head to the sun as it moved out from behind a cloud.

    She found herself relaxing as the start of the match drew closer. Linnaeans filed into the stadium, their voices intermingling with the music outside. Her friends spoke in low tones, discussing their classes and making bets about who would win the tournament.

    It would be Ember¡¯s second time watching a division one match. Since the first brutal fight between the buffalo and the hawk, she had subtly avoided news of the competition. Now that she was determined to challenge a ranker, however, she intended to make the most of the opportunity to observe in person.

    After twenty minutes, the announcer took the box, straightening his outfit. He was dressed in extravagant, all-green clothing that appeared to be made entirely of overlapping banana leaves. A pair of bright-orange insectile wings sprouted from beneath his shoulders.

    ¡°Welcome!¡± he said, his voice naturally amplified by the shape of the hippodrome. ¡°I am Ethan Bass, a previous winner of the division one tournament and a current member of the Apex Association. I will be announcing for today¡¯s match, so I hope you¡¯ll treat me well!¡±

    The crowd cheered uproariously, and he bowed low, the crown of his head almost scraping the platform. Morgan leaned close to Ember, whispering in her ear. ¡°He was a fan-favorite when he fought. His species is the giant hornet, and he¡¯s known as the Master of the Sting.¡±

    Ember nodded, realizing that she should take him seriously despite his showboating. To take the top rank, even for a season, was an enormous accomplishment.

    ¡°Our fight today is between two formidable opponents,¡± the announcer continued, ¡°Blair Heller, also known as Arachna, and Benjamin Skogland. Blair was ranked third going into the season, and Benjamin second.¡± He paused, allowing time for a male Linnaean to enter from the far side of the hippodrome. ¡°Coming from the left is Benjamin. He¡¯s a veteran of the field, consistently placing in the top five ranks thanks to his incredible source species¡­ the electric eel, Electrophorus voltai!¡±

    Ember stood up slightly, trying to get a better view. The fighter¡¯s appearance was surprisingly unexceptional: he was of average build, with dull, gray skin, and no other discernible mutations. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about him,¡± Carn said. ¡°He¡¯s unbeatable in the water, but on land, he has to make contact with someone to shock them. His eyesight was failing, so he took a season off last year, but it looks like he came back better than ever. If the rumors are true, he trained under a master of the Apex Association.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Ember breathed, wondering how anyone could best such a powerful mutation. None of the strategies she had seen thus far would be able to overcome it; even Roland¡¯s attack against the mantis had required that he touch her with his talons.

    ¡°Next up is Arachna,¡± Bass continued. ¡°She moved up from division two only last year, but she¡¯s a strong contender. She¡¯s a spitting spider, Scytodes thoracica!¡±

    The spectators fell silent as Arachna entered the ring. She was the most developed Linnaean that Ember had ever seen¡ªand she was terrifyingly grotesque. Her torso was humanoid in nature, but her head was unnaturally bulbous, with three pairs of partially-formed black eyes speckling her forehead and fanged mouthparts sprouting from both corners of her lips. Her lower body had almost completely transitioned to that of a spider; eight long, spindly legs erupted from just below her hips, balancing her torso in the center like some terrible apparition. Her natural, human legs hung uselessly below her, bearing little weight.

    Arachna took her time walking to the center of the ring. Each long leg moved one at a time, stretching tentatively in front of her as if testing the ground beneath. Ember suppressed a shudder, inadvertently reminded of when her father had squished a partially large spider underneath his boot.

    Arachna and Benjamin stretched as the announcer went over the rules. ¡°No eye gouging, puncture wounds to the heart, fatal envenomations, or ripping of limbs will be tolerated,¡± he reminded the audience. ¡°The winner will be decided when either fighter forfeits or loses consciousness. Of course, there is a team of medics on-site in case of injury.¡±

    The fighters faced each other, reaching out to shake hands. Arachna dwarfed Benjamin, but he gripped her hand without a moment of hesitation. They separated, waiting for the announcer¡¯s cue.

    Bass made a show of checking that the referees and medics were in position before raising his hand high above his head. ¡°You may begin!¡± he shouted, slashing downward with his outstretched arm.

    The audience roared as Arachna lunged forward, striking Benjamin in the shoulder with one of her front legs. He half-stumbled, half-flew backward, landing on his rear end. ¡°The spider strikes the first blow!¡± Bass shouted. At the same time, she leaped into the air to finish her opponent, her legs pointed downward like a rain of spears.

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    Without losing his composure, Benjamin raised both hands, standing perfectly still. Ember¡¯s mind raced, coming to the conclusion that he must be generating an electrical field to compensate for his loss of vision.

    Arachna faltered mid-air, but it was too late to change her trajectory. She landed squarely on top of Benjamin with all of her legs splayed out to avoid touching him. His hand jutted out, grabbing her nearest limb.

    The crowd gasped as Arachna went stiff. ¡°Arachna attacks first, but is too late to disorientate Benjamin¡¯s electro-location!¡± Bass bellowed. ¡°Will the match end this quickly?¡±

    Ember laced her fingers together, satisfied that she had guessed the eel¡¯s strategy. ¡°It looks like she failed to cut him off,¡± Carn commented, ¡°but I doubt things will end so easily.¡±

    Before Ember could ask what he meant, Benjamin managed to wriggle out from underneath Arachna¡¯s frozen body. Bracing himself against her torso, he swung his knee into her joint with full force. The spindly leg gave way with a sickening crunch. The spectators held their breath as he moved counterclockwise, repeating the motion on two more limbs.

    As he gripped her fourth leg, Arachna regained her agency, scuttling backward with a painful moan. ¡°Why didn¡¯t he shock her again?¡± Morgan demanded. ¡°He let her get away!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s a limit on how many times he can use that skill,¡± Ember answered.

    Carn nodded. ¡°If I remember correctly, there¡¯s a three to five-minute recharge time depending on how powerful the shock is.¡±

    Ember grimaced. Five minutes was a long time to stave off an opponent, even if they were disoriented. So that¡¯s his handicap.

    For the next few minutes, the fighters were at a standoff. Arachna¡¯s broken legs were folded underneath her as she limped from side to side, attempting to bypass Benjamin¡¯s electric field. Each time he raised his head, sensing her, and she was forced to retreat yet again. ¡°Our fighters appear evenly matched,¡± Bass commented. ¡°At this point, either one could win.¡±

    As Ember watched, she began to notice a pattern. Each time Arachna circled Benjamin, she pushed the imaginary boundary between them so that he was forced to back up a couple of feet. He seemed not to notice, either distracted by her movements or unable to sense the hippodrome¡¯s walls with his electric field.

    Ember glanced at Carn, wondering if he had observed what she had. ¡°Arachna is cornering Benjamin.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Bass must see it too, but he doesn¡¯t want to give her away.¡±

    The fighters¡¯ strange dance continued until Benjamin¡¯s back was only a yard from the wall. Arachna reared back, her front legs rising into the air like those of a stallion, and spit two radiant strands of liquid from her fangs. They zigzagged in the air, creating a tightly woven net, and fell upon Benjamin with enough force to send him flying into the wall.

    ¡°Arachna hits Benjamin with her sticky silk, the hallmark of the spitting spider,¡± Bass said, his voice suddenly more serious. ¡°If she can manage to bite him without getting shocked, we may see this fight come to a quick¡ªand gruesome¡ªend.¡±

    Ember looked at Carn for an explanation. ¡°Spitting spiders have venom, too,¡± he said, looking concerned. ¡°They use it to paralyze their prey and liquefy its insides.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be enough to kill him, but it will be painful,¡± Naz said, looking ready to be ill.

    Ember turned her attention back to the fight. Benjamin was doubled over, weighed down and pinned to the wall by the silk. Despite the circumstances, however, he struggled little, looking straight at Arachna with a glare that bordered on defiance.

    ¡°His shock has probably recharged by now,¡± Ember realized. ¡°And she has no way of knowing how powerful it will be.¡±

    Sure enough, Bass wiped his forehead, speaking over the crowd¡¯s murmuring. ¡°It appears we¡¯re at a stalemate, folks. If Arachna strikes now, she could be electrocuted with enough force to stop her heart. Benjamin must be hoping that the pain of her broken legs will make her surrender before he does.¡±

    Ember scooted forward, completely enraptured. Thanks to Jisu, she now recognized how much strategy went into a fight of this caliber. Each fighter must have studied for weeks beforehand, attempting to devise a scheme that would overcome the other.

    The fight had no time limit, and the audience grew restless as the stalemate continued. Dark clouds passed over the setting sun, deepening the chill. The stadium staff began walking up and down the rows, hanging lanterns on the handrails. The orange light cast an eerie glow on the arena and the fighters.

    Finally, Arachna moved. She reared again, expelling a new wave of silk onto Benjamin. This time, however, she didn¡¯t stop when the silk blanketed his upper body. Instead, she shot line after line of the sticky liquid, burying every inch of his visible skin.

    Bass repositioned himself on the platform. ¡°This is a strategy we¡¯ve never seen from Arachna!¡± he exclaimed, hardly able to contain himself. ¡°Does she plan to suffocate him under the weight of her silk?¡±

    The audience erupted into shouts as Benjamin¡¯s body slumped against the wall. A referee drew close to his side, ready to raise a hand the moment he fell unconscious. Ember leaned back, considering the fight won.

    Thunder rumbled in the distance. A single raindrop splattered on the side of Ember¡¯s face, trailing down her neck and wetting her jacket. She looked up just in time to meet the onslaught of rain. It went from a drizzle to a downpour in just moments, stinging her skin like the sharp prick of a needle.

    The crowd rushed to take cover. Ember and her friends jumped up, half-running, half-sliding down the stands in an attempt to find shelter. Bruised and soaking wet, they settled beneath a stone archway, which was already crowded with spectators but close enough to the field to see the fighters. All around them, Linnaeans hid underneath jackets or huddled under stone outcroppings, but few left the stadium. All eyes turned to the field, though without the aid of the lanterns it was barely visible through the curtains of rain.

    The rain had stopped Arachna from shooting more silk, but it had done little to free Benjamin. His body sank lower until he was almost lying prone against the ground. For over five minutes, the rain drummed upon the already-saturated field, beginning to form a layer of standing water.

    A realization hit Ember, turning her blood cold. She grabbed Carn¡¯s arm, looking at him with wide eyes. ¡°He¡¯s going to-¡±

    Before she could move, a figure leaned over the wall, yanking the referee a foot off of the ground the moment before disaster. Ember clutched her heart, recognizing the malformed limbs and dark feathers. Corax.

    Benjamin¡¯s body convulsed. Through the distortion of the heavy rain, Ember almost imagined that she could see wave after wave of electricity arching off of him. Arachna stiffened again, this time with a horrible jerk that curled all of her legs underneath her. She fell sideways, her body hitting the wet field with a moist thump.

    The arena cheered as lightning sliced through the air. Bass jumped up and down on the platform, waving his arms in a stopping motion. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Carn yelled, trying to make himself heard over the storm. ¡°The fight is won.¡±

 35: The Tyrant Flycatcher

    The arena devolved into a melee as the fight concluded. Medics rushed onto the field, only to be deterred by the puddles of standing water. Some ran to Benjamin¡¯s side, attempting to cut him out of the silk cocoon, while others struggled to maneuver around Arachna¡¯s many legs. Corax and Bass stood nearby, waiting to congratulate Benjamin and extend his invitation to the Apex Association.

    The crowd streamed out of the stadium, eager to return home and warm up in front of the fire. Ember and her friends let themselves be swept away in the flow, with Naz holding Ember¡¯s arm to keep from being separated. Morgan waved goodbye at the stadium exit, deciding to try her luck at flagging down a carriage.

    Since the unaffiliated dorm was the closest to the hippodrome, Carn and Naz had opted to stay in Ember¡¯s room for the night. They began the long walk back to campus, haggard and bone-weary. The rain had lessened, but their clothes had long since been soaked through with the bitterly cold water. Ember¡¯s headache began to thump familiarly at the base of her neck, and she hardly noticed as other Linnaeans jostled past her in their haste to escape the storm.

    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Naz said, tugging on Ember¡¯s arm to catch her attention.

    ¡°I feel-¡±

    ¡°Carn!¡± someone called, cutting her short. Ember looked over her shoulder just in time to see a petite, bright-yellow avian embrace Carn. ¡°How are you?¡± he asked, smiling broadly.

    ¡°This is Charlie,¡± the fox said, brightening instantly. Ember tilted her head, feeling as though she had missed something. Carn was still speaking, but his voice sounded warped and far away. She shook her head, trying to fix her vision on the fox, but his image slipped out from beneath her gaze like a watery reflection. She clenched and unclenched her fist, feeling nothing even as her nails bit into her palm.

    Her eyes slid to the left. There was the avian, blissfully chattering away at Carn. At first, she looked at him curiously, her gaze lingering too long. But when she tried to turn elsewhere, an invisible force seized her body, rooting her in place.

    Without warning, something gave way deep inside Ember. Her muscles tensed, an electrifying feeling that began at her heels and raced to the base of her neck. Her head throbbed, hard, and her infrared vision triggered, bathing Charlie in blood-red blotches.

    Ember¡¯s tongue flicked out. Before her eyes, the bird was dissected like cattle led to slaughter. She was hyperaware of his movements: the quick turning of his head, the shuffling of his wings, and the swish of his third eyelid as it protected his eyes from the rain. In the crisp air, he let off wave after wave of rolling heat. She could almost feel the hot rush of blood through his veins as it passed through his quickly pulsing, delicate heart. He was perfectly oblivious, his white neck barely visible under the collar of his raincoat¡­

    Ember was vaguely aware of Naz tugging on her arm. She brushed the pisces side, taking a slow step toward the little bird. Her mouth opened slightly. She was no longer cold, but burning up from the inside out, conscious yet unconscious as if in a dream. And if it is a dream, it won¡¯t be so bad if I-

    Something slammed into Ember¡¯s side, throwing her roughly to the ground. She scrambled for purchase, but her attacker held her head against the forest floor, pinning her with his knees. She coughed, inhaling a mouthful of dirt. ¡°Let me-¡± she hissed, thrashing wildly.

    ¡°Snap out of it!¡± Carn shouted, and she realized it was he who had pinned her. She stilled, her senses returning with a rush of clarity. Carn let her sit up, his single ear still flat against his head and his teeth bared in warning. Naz came to her side, gripping Ember¡¯s shoulders to hold her steady.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ember said shakily, her voice choked and guttural. She felt completely discombobulated as if her guts had been rearranged. The little bird looked at her with terrified eyes, shivering behind Carn. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s okay now, I think.¡±

    ¡°Are you off of the treatment?¡± Carn demanded, grabbing her harshly by the shoulders.

    She shook her head vehemently. ¡°No. I-I¡¯m taking the full dose, I promise.¡±

    His fur began to settle as he calmed down. ¡°Charlie, what species are you?¡±

    It took several tries for the little avian to find his voice. ¡°A t-tyrant f-flycatcher.¡±

    It was a ridiculous name for such a tiny, helpless bird. Ember rested her head in her hands, trusting Carn and Naz to look after her. That was a prey response, she realized uneasily. I¡¯d like to think that I wouldn¡¯t have actually attacked him, but¡­ I don¡¯t know.

    ¡°Ember,¡± Naz said, looking at her with concerned eyes, ¡°you need to see your advisor. Now.¡±

    ***

    Professor Bloomberry crossed his legs, accentuating his round belly and forcing a handful of orange feathers out from beneath his collar. ¡°Let¡¯s go over this again,¡± he squawked, dipping his quill in the inkwell. ¡°You were¡­ attracted to this bird?¡±

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    Ember resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. ¡°Not exactly, Professor. I wanted to eat him.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± he mused, stroking the bright red waggle beneath his chin. She had forgotten just how chicken-like he really was, complete with a wrinkly comb and beady eyes. ¡°Can you elaborate?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± Ember trailed off.

    ¡°It¡¯s best to be honest,¡± Bloomberry added. ¡°I¡¯ve seen everything, so don¡¯t worry.¡±

    Ember pinched the bridge of her nose. She had already explained the gist of what had happened, only for him to misunderstand her entirely. ¡°Okay,¡± she conceded, absolutely mortified. ¡°I imagined the thrill of the hunt: my fangs piercing into his neck, the warmth of his blood as it spilled across my tongue, and the freshness of his flesh in my stomach. I wanted to devour him, whole.¡±

    Bloomberry made an unintelligible noise. ¡°He was a bird, you said?¡± he asked, suddenly finding his notes exceedingly interesting.

    Ember closed her eyes, praying to be transported anywhere else. ¡°Yes, a tyrant flycatcher.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± A bead of sweat worked its way down Bloomberry¡¯s forehead, splattering on the desk. ¡°And you¡¯re a pit viper?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what the headmaster thinks.¡±

    ¡°Highly venomous, you know.¡±

    Ember looked at him. ¡°Professor, are you all right¡­?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± he said, loosening his collar. ¡°This is highly unusual for someone who is on the treatment. You¡¯re sure you¡¯ve never skipped a dose?¡±

    Ember nodded. ¡°Never.¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s only one explanation. You must be an apex predator, and that flycatcher must be your primary prey. Still, an incident like this is exceptionally rare. We¡¯ll up your dosage immediately¡ªI¡¯ll send the prescription to the pharmacy right after your appointment. And I think it¡¯s best if we move you to the reptile complex.¡±

    Ember resisted the urge to groan. ¡°Are you sure, Professor? I¡¯m very comfortable in the unaffiliated dorm.¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± he said, shaking his head hard enough for his comb to flop to the other side. ¡°This is strictly necessary. There will be fewer chances of an accident there. Elliot is one of our best prefects; I know him personally. I¡¯ll send word of your arrival right away.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ember reluctantly agreed. She didn¡¯t want to move, especially less than two weeks before finals, but it seemed there was no room for negotiation. She stood up, throwing her backpack over one shoulder. ¡°Thank you for your time.¡±

    ¡°One more thing,¡± Bloomberry said, tapping his mouth. ¡°Come see me as soon as your fangs break through. In an instance like this, it¡¯s the protocol to cap them until you have control over your venom. You won¡¯t notice it after a little while; it¡¯s like a retainer.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she agreed readily, wondering briefly why Corax hadn¡¯t presented it as an option. On top of all that was happening, she did not want to worry about her potential fangs accidentally injecting anyone with deadly venom, including herself.

    The advisor nodded. ¡°Go along, now. We¡¯ll meet again soon.¡±

    ***

    Jisu blocked Ember¡¯s kick with her shin, laughing hard enough for tears to pool at the corners of her eyes. ¡°You thought he looked delicious?¡±

    ¡°Not you, too,¡± Ember huffed, dodging Jisu¡¯s punch as it flew at her face. ¡°I¡¯m embarrassed enough as it is!¡±

    The panther smirked as they exchanged a flurry of blows. ¡°Relax. Nothing happened, so it¡¯s fine.¡±

    Ember ducked as Jisu slashed at her torso with gleaming claws. ¡°That poor bird is irreparably traumatized,¡± she argued, skirting around her opponent in order to strike at her liver. The cat lowered her elbow, stopping the punch and bruising Ember¡¯s knuckles.

    Ember grimaced, retreating just in time to avoid a counterattack. In her peripheral vision, she could see that about half of the other students had stopped to watch their exchange. In just two weeks of training together, they had surpassed the majority of the class in speed and technique. Still, though Ember could now hold Jisu at bay, she was grossly outmatched, with the cat taking the win about eighty percent of the time they sparred.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give them a show,¡± Jisu growled, her long tail sticking straight out for balance as she lept toward Ember with her claws outstretched. Ember threw herself to one side, executing a well-timed ground roll. She raced to find an opening, but Jisu had already re-orientated herself.

    Ember aimed a front kick at Jisu¡¯s ribcage, hoping to force her back. The panther caught her ankle, simultaneously tripping Ember¡¯s base leg in order to unbalance her. Ember fumbled, falling to her back with a groan. ¡°I saw that kick coming from a million miles away,¡± Jisu commented. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you using that explosive speed?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t find an opening.¡±

    ¡°Then you weren¡¯t looking closely enough.¡±

    Ember rolled her eyes, her foul mood worsening. ¡°I wonder if Carn is still furious with me.¡±

    Jisu looked up from her hand wraps. ¡°What, is he that close with the bird?¡±

    ¡°I guess so.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°Just apologize when you see him.¡±

    Ember sighed, wishing for the thousandth time that everyone would just forget about what had happened.

    ¡°Attention!¡± Mr. Badger called, and Jisu hauled Ember to her feet. The class formed a circle around the instructor, waiting for dismissal.

    ¡°Good work, everyone,¡± he spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve scheduled our next evaluation for the week after finals, about two weeks from now. It will be a rotation spar, so everyone will have the opportunity to fight each other. It will be a useful experience for you all.¡±

    Though most of the class nodded enthusiastically, a couple of the students shot apprehensive glances at Ember and Jisu. Mr. Badger shook his head, looking disappointed. ¡°Fighting stronger opponents is the fastest way to improve. The rotation spar will be casual, but I will pair up the most advanced students at the end to further test their skills.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± the class chorused, shaking hands and bidding each other goodbye.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go another few rounds,¡± Ember said to her partner, brushing a smattering of dirt off of her scales. ¡°But no talking this time.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Jisu smiled, revealing her long, pointed canines.

 36: The Reptile Dormitory

    Ember folded her last jacket, tucking it into the corner of the box that held the belongings she had accumulated during her first four months in Mendel. Her backpack lay nearby, stuffed with her schoolbooks and the few clothes she had brought from Ciradyl.

    She reached across to her nightstand, wrapping her fingers around the wooden star that had lain there since the first night she had spent in the unaffiliated dorm. She held it up to her nose, though it had long lost the scent of the house she had shared with her father. A familiar feeling of guilt blossomed in her chest. I¡¯m trying to reach you, I promise.

    Sighing, she tucked the star into the backpack and shouldered it, groaning under the weight. Her friends had offered to help her, but she had declined, knowing that they were busy enough studying for their exams. Besides, her melancholy at leaving the unaffiliated dorm was something she preferred to keep to herself.

    She stood up, balancing precariously between the heavy box and the backpack, and turned back one last time. The details of the little room were already committed to memory: the vines climbing across the wooden panels, the oak sapling that had sprouted near the window, and the smattering of ash where she had dropped a candlestick. She took a deep breath, letting the door close behind her. Goodbye.

    The mile-long walk to the reptile dorm was not an easy one. Knowing she was sensitive to the weather, she had bundled herself in fur, but the crisp morning air still numbed the tips of her ears. The heavy box left red grooves in her forearms and made her biceps quiver, but she took pride in the fact that she could not have carried the load for even a hundred yards when she had first arrived in the city.

    She found the reptile dorm just as she was questioning Bloomberry¡¯s directions. The complex was more compact and subtle than the mammals¡¯, consisting of a three-story wooden cabin with a series of smaller offshoots. A massive banyan tree stood in the center, enshrouding the buildings with its hanging roots. Tree houses lay in the fork of its branches, and sections of its bark had been covered by tarps, presumably to protect it from the upcoming winter frost. A natural spring gurgled nearby, surrounded by the sound of distant voices.

    Ember shifted the box of her belongings to one hip, freeing up a hand to knock on the door to the main hall. After a moment of shuffling, it swung open to reveal a tall, heavily-muscled man.

    She instinctively took a step back. The man exuded the confidence of an apex predator. His hands were clawed, his skin was armored with grey scales, and a thick tail trailed behind him. He smiled in greeting, revealing bulky, pointed teeth. ¡°You¡¯re the viper? I¡¯m the reptile dorm¡¯s prefect, Elliot,¡± he said.

    Ember met his gaze. The look in his bright-yellow eyes and slit pupils suggested a cunning that contradicted his brawny appearance. He¡¯s a fighter. ¡°What¡¯s your species, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±

    ¡°Alligator,¡± he rumbled, and Ember was reminded of the massive creature she had seen while rafting on the Lion¡¯s Tail River. ¡°I¡¯ll take your belongings,¡± he offered, pulling the box out of her hands as if it weighed nothing. ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Ember shook her head, trying to refocus as they stepped into a long and narrow hallway. It was unexpectedly dark inside; there were no windows, and the only light came from a few flickering lanterns. Like in many of Mendel¡¯s buildings, the first floor consisted of soil with a layer of leaf litter.

    They walked in single file, with Elliot pointing out the doors that led to the washroom, the mess hall, and the small library. Ember¡¯s eyes adjusted quickly, and she examined each new room with interest. They were hardly lavish, but they were well-maintained, and they had been designed with reptilian instincts in mind¡ª  there were lofts for climbing, pods for studying alone, and even a humid basement to assist with shedding.

    At a twist in the hall, Elliot stopped, pushing open a door to a large, open room.  A handful of Linnaeans lounged across armchairs and on pillows, basking in the light from a series of large windows. Several of them were accompanied by their reptilian companions, including a watermelon-sized tortoise and a green iguana.

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    ¡°This is the common area,¡± Elliot explained. At the sound of his voice, most of the reptiles looked up, peering at her with curious, sleep-filled eyes.

    A man peeled himself up from his spot beneath a ray of sun, making his way haphazardly toward Ember. Like Elliot, he was well-developed: his face was sharp, his skin was covered in brown and black scales, and his body had more muscle than fat.

    Ember stood up straighter, suddenly on high alert. He was, undoubtedly, a snake.

    ¡°Thisss the new girl?¡± he slurred, his tongue flicking out as he tasted the air. A couple of the other reptiles followed, crowding around her like she was a fresh new commodity. Their tall frames leaned downward as they appraised her, and her hand inadvertently drifted to the handle of the fang knife.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± Elliot said, sticking his arm out to block the other Linnaeans¡¯ access. He whirled Ember around, guiding her back into the hallway. ¡°You¡¯ll have to excuse them,¡± he explained. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since someone has joined our dorm. We reptiles tend to conceal our mutations until we¡¯re forced into the open.¡±

    Ember nodded, remembering hearing something similar from Corax.  ¡°I looked into your history after the chicken told me you were coming,¡± Elliot added. ¡°Your scores will be good motivation for the other students.¡±

    She shrugged, saved from replying as he started up a narrow staircase. ¡°Bloomberry told me to place you in the main building for monitoring, but I assigned you to a single room. He may not understand, but I do¡ªreptiles don¡¯t like to share.¡±

    Ember smiled for the first time. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    They passed a row of doors, each one marked with a name. The walls were decorated with various medals and report cards from the dorm¡¯s current occupants and alumni. Ember paused at a framed newspaper clipping, reading the headline: Elliot Calhoun debuts, jumping thirty ranks.

    She whipped around, looking at the prefect. ¡°You¡¯re a ranker?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, regarding her curiously.

    She fell silent, locked in an internal debate. The wooden star seemed to burn a hole in her backpack, a reminder that she was basically no closer to contacting her father than on the night that she had spoken with Orthus. She stepped forward tentatively. ¡°Help me,¡± she said, struggling to say the words. ¡°Let me train with you, just until my evaluation in eleven days. Please.¡±

    He inclined his head with a slightly amused expression. ¡°And I was worried you wouldn¡¯t fit in. I suppose each one of us has a reason to fight.¡±

    She swallowed, surprised that he had seen through her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he reassured her, ¡°I won¡¯t ask why. You can train with me, but I won¡¯t slow down for you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, almost overcome with relief.

    Elliot shrugged, turning away and taking a few more paces down the hall. He stopped in front of another door, pulling it open for her to step inside. ¡°This is your new room,¡± he said, placing her box of belongings on the straw mattress.

    It was a surprisingly comfortable space, tidy and just slightly smaller than her previous room. In addition to the mattress, a desk, a chair, and a washbasin had been arranged with space in mind. Fluffy-looking ferns sprouted between the log supports, and a family of sparrows had made their nest in the rafters. They were ironically reminiscent of the tyrant flycatcher that had almost fallen prey to her instinct.

    She looked out of the open window, noticing that she had been placed on the third floor. Below, the path to campus was just visible through swathes of greenery, and if she leaned forward far enough, she could reach the nearest tree limb.

    ¡°Already thinking of escaping?¡± Elliot asked with an undercurrent of humor.

    Ember¡¯s face reddened. So he knows about the incident with the rogue. ¡°I- I would never.¡±

    The prefect smiled slightly. ¡°In all seriousness, the rules are mostly common sense. Curfew is at twelve AM on weeknights. Stay on the treatment, no parties, no fires, and no sparring indoors. Breakfast is at eight. I start training at six, so don¡¯t be late.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± Ember said, grateful that he hadn¡¯t forgotten.

    ¡°Good,¡± he said, giving a small wave. ¡°I¡¯ll let you settle in.¡±

    Ember flopped back on the mattress the moment the door closed behind him. She could hear faint voices downstairs, undoubtedly discussing her arrival. So much for laying low.

    Heat rose to her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, suddenly sheepish at her own boldness. Tomorrow¡­ I train with a ranker.

 37: Grappling

    Ember pulled up her hood, watching as her breath left a fist-sized cloud in the air. The forest was dark and still, but when she activated her infrared vision, she saw the red and yellow traces of small animals hiding in the brush. The cold cut through her training pants and jacket, stinging her eyes and wiping away the last traces of sleep.

    She felt for the fang knife and canteen around her waist before stepping away from the protection of the banyan¡¯s hanging roots. A crack drew her attention to a tall buck, who regarded her aloofly before going back to foraging. Slightly spooked, she walked briskly around the main building in search of Elliot.

    Three men were stretching against a nearby tree, their silhouettes visible only by the moonlight. Ember easily identified the prefect¡¯s large frame, finding herself both relieved and a little disappointed that she wouldn¡¯t be training with him one-on-one.

    ¡°Here she is,¡± Elliot said as he spotted her, thumping her back hard enough to expel the air from her lungs. ¡°Gentlemen, this is Ember, the newest member of our dorm.¡±

    The two other Linnaeans reached out to greet her, and she recognized the first as the snake who had approached her in the common room. ¡°I¡¯m Marcus,¡± he said, ¡°reticulated python.¡± Ember gripped his hand, fighting not to grimace as his fingers crushed hers. He was strong¡ªoverwhelmingly so, and seemingly eager to demonstrate it.

    The other reptile pushed Marcus aside, reaching out to greet Ember more gently. He was shorter and more compact, with a smattering of black and orange scales. ¡°Amir, Gila monster. You¡¯re the girl that defeated the margay, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Ember nodded, bringing her knee to her chest to stretch her hamstring. ¡°It¡¯s good to meet both of you.¡±

    ¡°Is everyone ready?¡± Elliot asked, folding his muscular arms over his chest. ¡°We can talk after we train.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Marcus said facetiously, earning an eye roll from the prefect.

    ¡°All right, then. We¡¯ll start with a five-mile run.¡±

    Ember steeled herself as the three men lined up. At Elliot¡¯s count, they took off like projectiles launched from a catapult. ¡°Holy shit,¡± she breathed, doubling her pace to catch up with them.

    Running had been part of Ember¡¯s routine since she had started training, but never like this. The men set a breakneck pace, striding over shadowed roots and underbrush with hardly a reduction in speed. Their footfalls were surprisingly light and no louder than the noise of the forest fauna.

    Ember was highly aware of every part of her body as she ran. She scanned the forest floor for hazards, knowing that a misplaced foot would send her crashing into the soil, unable to catch up. She kept her breaths even, fearful of tiring too quickly. Each time the men did pull ahead, she tracked them with her infrared vision while searching for a shortcut by which to rejoin them.

    Afraid of becoming lost and losing face, Ember pushed herself far past the brink of exhaustion. A burning sensation traveled from her legs to her chest, and each wave of pain became more difficult to weather. But it wasn¡¯t until the last third of the run that the gap between her and the other reptiles widened beyond repair. Even so, she kept running even after their heat signatures disappeared by following their trail in the underbrush.

    She returned to the reptile dorm just a few minutes after the men. Her brain registered Marcus and Amir recovering and Elliot doing push-ups, before finally, mercifully, she let herself collapse into the dirt.

    The exertion caught up to her at all at once. Her body was liquid fire, and she bent over, retching. She gasped, desperate for oxygen. Relief came bit by bit, agonizingly slowly, and she wiped her watery eyes with the back of her hand. At the same time, an antithetical sensation of euphoria began to bloom within her chest. Shit, I¡­ I really did it.

    Elliot sat back, checking his watch. ¡°Good work, Ember. Thirty-three minutes, just two minutes behind Amir.¡± She managed a lopsided smile, grateful that he wasn¡¯t coddling her.

    ¡°I have short legs,¡± Amir protested. ¡°Besides, if you ask me, reptiles aren¡¯t meant for long-distance running.¡±

    Elliot shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why we do it. It¡¯s as much about fortitude here,¡± he gestured to his head, ¡°as it is about physical ability. Besides, how do you plan to outlast a wolf in a match if you lose your breath after a light jog?¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyes widened. Light¡­ light jog?!

    ¡°Gila, come up here,¡± Elliot finished, his eyes glimmering. ¡°Let¡¯s spar.¡±

    Amir obliged with a grumble, but Ember saw the way his whole body awakened with Elliot¡¯s words. You¡¯re all so damn battle-hungry, she thought, holding her stomach as she felt another retch coming on. Still, as they squared up, she found herself scooting forward for a better view.

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    The first thing Ember noticed was how utterly relaxed the two reptiles were. Though they watched each other with sharp eyes, there was no tension in their shoulders as they exchanged the first strikes. Elliot let Amir take the offensive, blocking his swing with his forearm and eliciting a bam that reverberated through the forest. They moved quickly and fluidly, with clean technique and unexpected combinations.

    Ember watched the spar breathlessly. The fighters came together and apart with astonishing speed, their hits heavy enough to make the nearby trees shed their needles. Elliot anticipated Amir¡¯s every move, countering just enough to conserve energy. Not once did he lose his composure, even when Amir¡¯s paddle-like tail swung past him, snapping a branch off of a young tree.

    As Elliot dodged a cutting kick to the thigh, Amir circled behind him. He twisted over one shoulder, attempting to take advantage of the alligator¡¯s blind spot with a spinning back-fist.

    Elliot turned at the last moment, his yellow eyes burning with an intensity that made Ember shiver. One hand snapped out, grabbing Amir¡¯s forearm and throwing him effortlessly over his shoulder. Amir gripped Elliot¡¯s clothes as he slammed into the ground, dragging the prefect down with him.

    Where Ember had expected the fight to end, it became even more fearsome. The fighters¡¯ bodies blurred together as they fought to gain the upper hand. Their speed and the dim light made it so that Ember only caught snapshots of what was happening: Amir¡¯s legs wrapped around Elliot¡¯s neck, crushing his skull; Elliot heaving himself to his feet, throwing the smaller man to the ground; the lizard tackling the prefect again, followed by a series of increasingly unbelievable submission holds.

    ¡°Elliot is toying with him,¡± Marcus said, startling Ember. He, too, was watching the fight with interest. ¡°Hell, that bastard can bite through steel.¡±

    ¡°What are they doing?¡± Ember asked, watching as Elliot trapped Amir¡¯s arm around the elbow, applying enough pressure to make him grunt.

    ¡°Grappling,¡± the python said as if it was obvious. At the same time, Elliot pushed harder, forcing Amir to tap out. The lizard flopped back, catching his breath, and Elliot dusted himself off. As Marcus had suggested, he hardly seemed fazed.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ going¡­ to beat you¡­ one of these days,¡± Amir panted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait,¡± Elliot replied. ¡°Ember, what did you think?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve never seen that type of close combat,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°Who¡¯s your instructor?¡±

    ¡°Mr. Badger, for the intro class.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Elliot said, ¡°that¡¯s why. Beginners usually focus on their stances, basic strikes, and confidence. Grappling is a more advanced style well-suited to us.¡±

    As Ember started to ask a question, Marcus poked her bicep, surprising her. ¡°Reptiles, especially snakes, have muscular frames. If you can¡¯t win on your feet, taking a striker to the ground is the best way to cripple them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s also how you can get close enough to inject your venom,¡± Amir chimed in.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Elliot said, pulling Ember to her feet. ¡°Let me show you the guillotine choke.¡±

    ***

    ¡°This place gives me the creeps,¡± Carn said, closing the door to Ember¡¯s room behind him. ¡°Did you see how that snake looked at me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Ember grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t think mammals come around here often.¡±

    ¡°For good reason,¡± Carn shuddered, pulling open his algebra textbook to take notes.

    Naz patted his shoulder. ¡°On the bright side, you must smell quite appetizing.¡±

    Carn responded with a dirty look, and Ember looked away, reminded of the incident with Charlie. Though it had been nearly a week since the division one match, the tension between her and the fox had gone unaddressed.

    ¡°Ember, can you show me how to solve this problem?¡± Carn asked, pointing to a logarithmic equation. ¡°I tried converting it to exponential form, but I think I overcomplicated it.¡±

    Ember looked over his shoulder, quickly becoming engrossed in the math. ¡°Yeah, you need to use Euler¡¯s number here. Let me show you,¡± she said, whipping out a quill and scribbling down a series of steps.

    The hours passed quickly as the three Linnaeans studied. It was Naz who called it quits first, slamming her book shut with a thud and stretching her arms above her head. ¡°We are agonizingly close,¡± she said, grimacing dramatically. ¡°Just one more week until we¡¯re free, and then we¡¯re off for nearly a month. I can hardly wait for the Solstice Festival!¡±

    ¡°The what?¡± Ember asked, setting down her notebook.

    Both Carn and Naz turned to look at her in horror. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Carn said, ¡°we¡¯ve failed as friends.¡±

    ¡°The winter solstice is one of our biggest holidays,¡± Naz explained. ¡°The festival takes place over the course of three days, with different events on each day. The last is a masquerade for couples, though it¡¯s also acceptable to go with friends.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a wild celebration,¡± Carn said, raising an eyebrow suggestively. ¡°Every Linnaean looks forward to it.¡±

    Ember laid back against the wall, bemused. ¡°Are you two bringing someone?¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll meet someone at the masquerade,¡± Naz said. ¡°Just for the night.¡±

    ¡°I was going to invite Charlie,¡± Carn said.

    The room fell silent, and Ember buried her face in her hands. It wasn¡¯t clear if he meant romantically or platonically, but either way, she wasn¡¯t entirely surprised¡ªunlike on the mainland, Linaneans took mates as they chose, regardless of sex. But it would hardly be ideal if the avian she almost mauled was Carn¡¯s only romantic prospect.

    She scooted next to Carn. ¡°I¡¯ll apologize to him if he¡¯s willing,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m on a higher dose of the treatment now, and my advisor is confident something like that will never happen again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask him,¡± Carn said, his expression softening slightly. ¡°I know it wasn¡¯t really your fault.¡±

    Ember breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping one arm around him in a firm hug. ¡°Thank you. Just let me know when, and I¡¯ll be there.¡±

    Naz clapped her hands together with a mischievous look in her eye. ¡°If all is well, let¡¯s go get something to eat. I, personally, have a hankering for chicken.¡±

 38: The Blackwater Caves

    The wind whipped around Ember¡¯s face, tugging her hair from its braid. ¡°What in god¡¯s name¡­¡± Morgan muttered, holding onto Ember¡¯s arm as she leaned over the edge. ¡°He really means to kill us this time.¡±

    Ember took a shallow breath, her eyes watering with the stinging cold. Ahead was a cliff, its incline cleaved from the earth as if by a giant¡¯s axe. A waterfall, fed by a tributary of the Lion¡¯s Tail River, roared over the edge, spraying droplets onto the rockface. The ancient forest stretched infinitely beyond, dense and untouched even by Linnaean influence, the gargantuan trees disappearing over the horizon like soldiers marching to battle.

    ¡°He¡¯s taken us to the edge of the world,¡± Ember said, turning back to look at the rest of the students. Like Morgan, they were huddled together with looks of skepticism. The animals that had borne them throughout the hour¡¯s journey lay under the trees, staying a healthy distance from the edge.

    Hickory gestured for them to gather around. He, too, was bundled in a thick coat, with only his bulbous head emerging from the fur hood. ¡°Take heart,¡± he said, clapping his hands together. ¡°For the majority of you, this is your last exam of the semester. For better or for worse-¡± croak ¡°-it will be over by sunset.¡±

    The students glanced at each other, completely unmoved by his assurances. ¡°Tell us why we¡¯re here, professor!¡± someone insisted.

    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± he replied, waving her away. ¡°What you are about to experience is a rite of passage for young Linneans. We are at the Blackwater Caves-¡± croak ¡°-the last barrier between Mendel and the true wild. Other than researchers and recluses, few Linnaeans have journeyed past this point.¡±

    Ember listened closely, reminded of Corax¡¯s map. ¡°It is vital that we maintain some infrastructure in this area,¡± Hickory continued, ¡°for if Mendel was taken, this would serve as a means of escape for many Linneans.¡± He gestured to the edge of the cliff, where ropes, pulleys, and harnesses had been fastened to the rock. ¡°In addition to this, the caves are also home to many members of our resident bear population-¡± croak ¡°-who will soon be beginning their hibernation.¡±

    Ember ran a hand down her face, unsurprised. Only Hickory would devise an exam involving bears. The beasts were phantoms of her childhood, seen only at a distance when they robbed the pasture, their silhouettes framed by the setting sun as they ripped the head from a screaming family goat.

    ¡°Your task is simple,¡± he said. ¡°Each pair of you will enter a cave and note if a bear has claimed it this season. If it is a female, you must count the number of cubs. You will see that many of the caves have been reinforced with supports: please verify that these are not cracked, bent, or otherwise compromised.¡±

    A female student raised her hand dubiously. ¡°But, Professor, what about the bears?¡±

    ¡°What about them?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ are they friendly?¡±

    Hickory let out a guffaw. ¡°They¡¯re not inherently hostile to Linnaeans. But this time of year, they¡¯re unusually grumpy. That said, there will be no tolerance for harming the bears, and please avoid disturbing them if they are already asleep.¡±

    The students looked at him incredulously. ¡°Professor, this is an impossible task,¡± someone interjected. ¡°We could die if we become trapped in a cave with an angry bear.¡±

    ¡°Yet every year, students succeed,¡± the professor pointed out. ¡°I¡¯ll give you one hint. During our lesson on dangerous animals, we studied naturally occurring tranquilizers and hallucinogens. The humidity is high in the area, making it ideal for many of them to grow.¡±

    The student looked away, and Ember surmised that he remembered little of the lesson. It had been a particularly difficult one, as many of the fungi and plants that had sedative properties looked identical to their toxic counterparts.

    ¡°Enough of this,¡± Hickory said, clapping his hands together. ¡°I know that this is challenging-¡± croak ¡°-but I will not be known as an unfair professor. For a point deduction, I will help guide you, and those who did well on the earlier practicals may be able to pass even without completing this task. I¡¯ve also brought a container of equipment for your use,¡± he finished, pointing to a box resting near his horse. ¡°Now, go,¡± he ribbited indignantly, and the grumbling class began to break into pairs.

    Morgan took Ember by the arm, pulling her out of earshot. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you want to do this anyway?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°We didn¡¯t work this hard just to scrape by with a passing grade. We¡¯ll take the top score on this challenge as well.¡±

    Morgan smiled, shaking her head slightly. ¡°Then you have a plan?¡±

    ¡°We should find the tranquilizer first. Then, you can lower me into one of the caves with the rope system. I¡¯ll set fire to the plant and let the smoke fill the cavern so that if there is a bear, we ensure that it is sleeping deeply. Only then will I enter and take the samples.¡±

    ¡°I want to help,¡± Morgan frowned. ¡°I¡¯m tired of resting on your laurels.¡±

    ¡°You can support me from above,¡± Ember said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense for you to enter the caves when you don¡¯t have infrared vision, and it¡¯s not safe to bring a torch. None of it matters, though, if we can¡¯t find the right plant.¡±

    ¡°Amanita muscaria,¡± Morgan said. ¡°It¡¯s a fungus that grows best in the winter months and serves as a potent hallucinogen.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Ember looked at her with surprise, and she shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who studies around here.¡±

    Ember chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. How about we split up and meet back here in an hour?¡±

    Morgan nodded, and the two separated into the dense forest. Ember walked briskly along the stream, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to protect herself from the frigid mist. She passed a number of confused-looking classmates, tilting her head in greeting but giving no indication of her strategy.

    Her fingers were cold and stiff from turning over half-frozen logs when she finally found the first cluster of mushrooms. They shone like red-capped gems in the soil, their tops sprinkled with white flecks. Ember covered her hand with a rag from her pack, tugging them free without letting them touch her skin.

    She returned to the clearing with two mushrooms and sore fingers. Morgan presented her with six prizes of her own, smirking proudly at having surpassed Ember in gathering ability. ¡°What now?¡±

    Ember took a moment to think. ¡°Do you have a spare canteen?¡±

    ¡°No, but I have a tin for cooking meats,¡± Morgan replied, pulling it out of her pack. It was a round, lightweight metal cylinder just larger than a fist.

    ¡°Even better,¡± Ember said, opening the lid of the tin and stuffing the mushrooms inside. Realizing her plan, Morgan broke off a branch from a nearby conifer, cutting it into shavings with her knife and dropping them into the tin.

    ¡°Tinder,¡± she explained. ¡°Pine sap is highly flammable. Without it, the fire will never burn in these damp conditions.¡±

    ¡°Smart,¡± Ember acknowledged. ¡°We need a way to protect me from the vapors, or I¡¯ll be knocked out worse than the bear.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what Hickory brought,¡± Morgan said, and they crossed the clearing, looking into his box of supplies. Sure enough, beneath the other odds and ends, there was a handful of strange-looking masks. Ember grabbed one, fitting it over her face. Its bulbous design constricted her breathing, but she was almost certain that it was intended to protect her from airborne particles.

    Finally, the young Linneans walked together to the edge of the cliff. For a moment, Ember faltered. Though she was comfortable with heights, the jagged drop-off, coupled with the raging wind, filled her with white-hot terror. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± Morgan reminded her. Ember shook her head, positioning herself near the edge and fastening the rope around her waist. It had been firmly fixed to a metal anchor, but she noted that the cord itself had not been reinforced, meaning it could be severed at a moment¡¯s notice¡ªpresumably to prevent the Linnaean¡¯s enemies from pursuing them during a mass exodus.

    She planted her feet on the edge of the cliff, leaning back. The wind slapped against her side, threatening to unbalance her. Adrenaline sharpened her senses, and for a moment she forced herself to experience the sensation of being suspended in the clouds. She met Hickory¡¯s eyes from where he stood beneath the trees, and he gave her a thumbs up.

    Morgan connected the anchored end of the rope to a pulley, giving her increased control of Ember¡¯s repel. ¡°Good luck, and be careful,¡± she said, her face unusually serious.

    Ember braced herself against the rock edge, letting Morgan feed her the rope. Slowly, she lowered herself downward, her hands and feet clinging to each crevice. The ground lurched dizzyingly below, obscured by the waterfall¡¯s mist and the thick gas mask. She turned her head, looking only at the rock in front of her, and kept up her steady descent. At first, her scales protected her hands from the harsh stone, but eventually, they too gave way, exposing the raw skin beneath.

    She noticed the first cave as she came up beside it. It fell into the cliff face like the gaping maw of a beast, surrounded by the dank smell of flesh. Ember paused only to check that the floor was bare, nonflammable rock before reaching one hand inside the pocket of her backpack and pulling out the container. Bracing herself against a ledge, she fumbled to strike a match, waited anxiously for the tinder to catch, and then rolled the entire package into the cavern.

    She cringed as the tin clattered against the cave floor and disappeared around a bend. She had no way of knowing if it had worked¡ªany smoke would be lost to the darkness and the wind the moment it wafted from the entrance. She rested the best she could against a small ledge, giving time for the fumes to take effect.

    When she could stand the burning of her arms no longer, she lowered herself softly onto the cave floor, her boots sending up a cloud of dust. Even with the specialized mask, she could still detect the rank scent of an old kill. She kept the rope around her waist, hoping that Morgan had kept it taut enough to catch her if she had to jump from the cavern.

    She took each step slowly, running one hand against the cave wall to keep her bearings. The darkness folded around her like a blanket, and she was infinitely grateful for her thermal vision. She encountered the sputtering smoke bomb about ten yards from the entrance and gathered it with the rag, holding it with an outstretched arm in the hopes that it would be potent enough to finish sending any awaiting beast into the deep recesses of sleep.

    The cave narrowed slightly as she continued. Something cracked underfoot, and she stooped to examine it more closely, finding a long, yellowed bone. She pushed it aside, swallowing uneasily. Maybe I should stop now¡­ surely we¡¯ll score well enough if I bring back evidence that a bear is here. Still, almost inexplicably, her morbid curiosity and her desire to take the top score drove her to creep forward.

    Ember froze as she rounded the last corner, not daring to breathe. The creature that lay ahead had a gargantuan thermal footprint, far larger than that of even the most impressive draft animal. Its breaths seemed to shake the cave walls, and Ember suddenly felt sure that the half-dozen smoked mushrooms would have done little to tranquilize the bear if it had been awake.

    Her foot brushed something, and she crouched down without taking her eyes off the beast. This will be enough proof, she decided, barely registering that she had grabbed the half-eaten carcass of some little animal before beginning to back out of the cave.

    Snap. Something broke beneath Ember¡¯s boot, loud enough to reverberate through the tunnel. Terror coursed through her veins, and she stayed completely still, her heart thumping so loudly that she swore it would wake the bear if her footsteps had not.

    Nothing came. She let out an inaudible sigh. Thank the gods.

    The creature stirred. Its bulk shifted as it heaved itself to its feet, its massive head swinging to face her, its eyes two glowing green voids. A scream was born in Ember¡¯s chest, bouncing up her throat like a pinball and dying behind her teeth.

    She turned and ran. Her boots scrambled against the damp rock, trying to find purchase. She made it ten yards before she tripped, stumbling in the darkness and falling onto her knees hard enough to jar her teeth in her skull. At the last moment, she turned around to look death in the face.

    The bear leaned down. Its terrible, rotten breath blew over her face as it smelled her. She grabbed blindly for the fang knife, but it was ripped from her hand by a giant paw. The four-inch canines drew closer, and she pressed herself against the damp rock. Trapped, she looked levelly back at the creature, finding an intelligence behind its gaze that pierced her, dissected her¡­

    Wait. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re Linnaean, aren¡¯t you?¡±

 39: Fanging

    The bear laughed, a low, rumbling sound that filled the cave and made the bones rattle. ¡°You¡¯re the viper, hmm? The frog said you were sharp,¡± he growled, lifting his paw from her stomach.

    Ember took a few gasping breaths, struggling to make herself heard through the mask. ¡°Of course, you and Hickory were in cahoots. I really thought you were going to kill me.¡±

    ¡°Not today,¡± he shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture in the bear¡¯s frame. She had to focus to understand his words, which sounded garbled coming from his drooping maw.

    ¡°The sleeping gas didn¡¯t work, then,¡± she said, finding humor in her own words.

    He chuckled again. ¡°It was a good buzz, but it would take a lot more to take me out.¡±

    Ember sat up, able to look at him more closely now that her life wasn¡¯t at risk. He was absolutely mountainous, at least twice the size of the bears that had robbed her family¡¯s farm. His body was covered in coarse brown fur, save for a few old wounds that had scabbed over. Though he was much her senior, Ember could see traces of Olga¡ªthe young bear with whom she had traveled to Mendel¡ªin him.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Ember ventured. ¡°It¡¯s true that I haven¡¯t been here long, but I¡¯ve never met such a developed Linnaean.¡±

    ¡°My name is Igor,¡± he said, the power in his voice palpable. ¡°My family and I are Mendel¡¯s last defense.¡±

    ¡°Your family?¡±

    ¡°For us, the gene runs strong. We are five in total.¡±

    ¡°So the professor wanted us to meet you,¡± Ember realized. ¡°I truly thought he was sending us into the dens of wild bears.¡±

    ¡°Make no mistake,¡± Igor said, ¡°there are natural-born bears here. They like our company. But they are sleeping, now, and nothing can awake them.¡±

    Ember took a moment to think. ¡°Mendel¡¯s last defense? Who stationed you here?¡±

    ¡°My descendants and I are our own rulers, but we take our hibernation here as a favor to Corax.¡±

    What has the headmaster done to earn the respect of such a lineage? Ember questioned, once again taken aback by his foresight. ¡°Forgive me for my impudence, but is that really necessary? Is it possible for humans to take the city?¡±

    The bear looked away. ¡°That¡­ I know not. The politics of the outside world are a mystery to me. The crow might be overly cautious, but he is a lot smarter than I.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember said, pulling herself to her feet with the help of the cave wall. She bowed earnestly. ¡°I will take my leave now.¡±

    ¡°Good luck,¡± Igor said, returning to his corner and huffing as his massive frame sunk back to the cave floor. Ember stumbled back to the exit, shaken but intrigued. She tugged hard on the rope, letting Morgan know that she was ready to come up, and as the rope went taut, she once again began the perilous climb.

    ***

    Ember slept fitfully the night before the first semester rankings were announced. To stave off the cold, Elliot had turned on the building¡¯s wood-burning furnace, but the heat came only in waves, each time shortly diffusing away. Ember repeatedly awoke in a panic, intermittently sweaty and shivering, her mind second-guessing the finals¡¯ most difficult questions.

    She awoke for the last time when the sun was rising over the horizon, her eyelids heavy as she blinked away sleep. She yawned, flinching as something pricked her bottom lip.

    Her eyes widened. She threw herself out of bed, almost slipping in her haste to reach the mirror. She opened her mouth, wide, turning until she found the right angle. Sure enough, the tip of a  razor-sharp fang had poked through the soft flesh left by the missing canine.

    Though she had expected it, Ember found herself in a state of shock as she stared at the new tooth. A heavy feeling settled over her as she stepped back to look at her reflection. It seemed that each day, she could feel another piece of her humanity slip through her fingers.

    Now, to the trained eye, she no longer would be mistaken as fully human. Her face had an intense, almost hard countenance, accentuated by the pair of membrane-covered heat pits between her cheekbones and nose. Her pupils were no longer perfectly round but had begun to elongate vertically, forming the slit characteristic of reptile species. Smatterings of golden, slightly inflamed scales could be found on most parts of her body, and her training had stripped away all of the excess fat she had brought from Ciradyl, replacing her scholar¡¯s physique with lean muscle.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    She sighed, considering her side profile. Would my father recognize me?

    Unable to bear the discomfort, she turned away from the mirror. Instead, remembering Bloomberry¡¯s command, she got dressed quickly in order to visit the infirmary. She had over five hours until the results would be announced, ample time for them to begin the process of capping her fangs.

    She left the reptile hall without pausing for breakfast. Though she still craved meat, she had found that she no longer felt the sharp pull of hunger just from missing a single meal.

    The walk to the infirmary was quiet and peaceful. The cold had deepened with the onset of December, covering the patches of lichen and clover with ice each morning. Many of the forest animals had retreated to their dens for the winter, and the migratory birds had begun their journeys to the wild south.

    It was an altogether different atmosphere from Ciradyl, where the overworked machines would have choked the air with black smog and all but the laborers would have retreated indoors. Still, she longed for the days when she would prepare a small fire for her father when he returned from work, and they would warm their hands over ceramic mugs of bitter tea.

    She shook away the memories as she arrived at the campus infirmary, a multi-purpose healthcare center contained within a two-story log cabin. She pulled off a glove and opened the door, breathing a sigh of relief as warm air rushed over her body.

    The small waiting room was occupied only by the receptionist and one other Linnaean, an older student with an elongated bill and webbed feet. Ember stopped at the desk, talking in low tones so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

    ¡°I¡¯m Ember Whitlock,¡± she said. ¡°Professor Bloomberry told me to come when my first fang broke through.¡±

    The receptionist nodded, causing her stubby antenna to bounce. Like Professor Tinsely, she was a surprisingly attractive insect, with a blue-plated exoskeleton that reflected rainbow-colored light. ¡°We were expecting you,¡± she said. ¡°You can head back now, it won¡¯t take long. It¡¯s the first room on the left.¡±

    Ember thanked her and skirted the desk, finding the room quickly. The small, cot-like bed inside brought back memories of her brief stay after the clash with the margay over two months before. She opted instead to wait on the small stool, occupying herself by looking at the hand-drawn posters on the walls.

    A Linnaean in a white coat opened the door after about ten minutes had passed. Ember thought he looked vaguely familiar, though her previous stay had been too hectic to tell for certain. He was of moderate height, with circular ears and an elongated snout. As the end of his pink tail swished across the floor, Ember realized that his source species was undeniably the rat.

    ¡°Ember, yes?¡± He greeted her warmly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen your name before¡ªare you a freshman?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°So is my daughter. Don¡¯t tell anyone, but I may have taken the liberty of checking the boards before they were displayed. I think you¡¯ll be very pleased when the rankings come out today.¡±

    Ember smiled as she realized what he was hinting at, unable to contain her excitement. ¡°Thank you, doctor.¡±

    ¡°Now, you¡¯re here to have a fang capped. Let¡¯s see, shall we?¡±

    At his bequest, Ember opened her mouth, letting him peer inside. ¡°Sure enough,¡± he said, snapping on a glove to examine the area. ¡°For today, I¡¯ll give you some painkillers and take your measurements for the cap.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t put it on now?¡± Ember asked, slightly worried. ¡°What if I inject myself with venom?¡±

    The doctor laughed slightly. ¡°Bloomberry, my dear chicken, has been known to be a little paranoid. Your venom glands are unlikely to form for some time, and even so, you will develop a natural resistance.¡±

    He leaned over, scribbling a diagram of a snake¡¯s mouth on a scrap of parchment. He pointed at the fang, drawing an arrow to the roof of the mouth. ¡°Fully-developed fangs are retractable,¡± he explained. ¡°They can snap out to inject venom, but most of the time, they¡¯re safely tucked away. The caps are a precaution, not a necessity.¡±

    Ember found herself relaxing at his words. ¡°When will they be uncapped?¡±

    ¡°In the wild, snakes shed their fangs about every two months. We¡¯ll cap each set until you feel comfortable, and then we¡¯ll remove them temporarily to test your venom proficiency,¡± he said, beginning to take the measurements with a line of twine. ¡°There¡¯s no telling precisely how your venom glands and compressor muscles will develop, but it¡¯s been observed that natural-born vipers can control the dosage in each individual fang.¡±

    Ember startled at his words. That would change everything¡­ if I could administer a non-lethal dose, I would be able to use my venom in the matches.

    ¡°How are you feeling about all of this?¡± the doctor asked, withdrawing the twine from her mouth.

    ¡°It¡¯s still sinking in,¡± Ember answered honestly, ¡°and I¡¯m afraid of any situation in which I¡¯d need to use this ability.¡±

    Something dark passed over the rat¡¯s cheery expression, but he masked it quickly. ¡°Just in case, it might benefit you to find a mentor, preferably another venomous snake. Anyway, though, we¡¯ll have the first cap ready in about three days. Is your other canine loose?¡±

    Ember pushed at it, finding that it gave slightly. ¡°A little.¡±

    ¡°Try to extract it by our next meeting, then, to save us some time,¡± he instructed. He stood up, dismissing her. ¡°That¡¯s all. And congratulations again, Ember.¡±

 40: Mr. Badgeréˆ¥æªš Evaluation

    Ember set down her bag, riffling through it until she found the long strips of bloodstained fabric that served as her hand wraps. All around the clearing, Mr. Badger¡¯s trainees were similarly preparing for the evaluation. They spoke in low voices as they stretched, occasionally discussing finals but mainly preparing their strategies for the rotation spar. Many of them¡ªeven some of those who were sure to receive a beatdown¡ªsported the jitters of nervous excitement.

    Ember licked her lips, pausing as her tongue passed over the cold sting of metal. The cap on her tooth, although small, sat in her mouth like an unfamiliar object. On the other side, the gap left by the other missing canine was still raw.

    A blur rushed past Ember, thumping her in the back. ¡°Oof!¡± she exclaimed, glaring at Jisu. ¡°What was that for?¡±

    ¡°Congratulations on first rank!¡± the panther exclaimed, purposefully drawing the attention of some of their peers. ¡°I¡¯m jealous of whatever your stipend will be.¡±

    ¡°Be quiet, will you?¡± Ember hissed.

    ¡°Relax,¡± Jisu said, lowering her voice. ¡°But just because you took the top spot in the freshmen academics doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll best me today.¡±

    Ember took a step back, looking at her training partner. The panther was dressed sleekly despite the cool weather, in tight black leggings and a top that only covered her chest. She was barefoot, and the claws on both her hands and her feet had been noticeably sharpened. She¡¯s serious about this¡­ about beating me. Well, that¡¯s why Mr. Badger paired us up, after all.

    Ember shrugged, continuing to wrap the fabric around her knuckles. Both she and Jisu had trained separately for the past week outside of class, though their spars during class time had seen Ember winning only sporadically. Meanwhile, she had trained with the reptiles almost daily¡ªwith the exception of the day before, which had been used for rest¡ªfor a total of nine sessions.

    ¡°Attention!¡± Mr. Badger called, folding his arms over his chest. A small, flighty-looking mammal stood next to him, poised to take notes. ¡°As you all know,¡± he said, ¡°today is our rotation spar. It will determine who will move to the intermediate class for non-rankers, and who will continue to train with me for the foreseeable future. On my count, you will split into pairs. Billy,¡± he pointed to the mammal, who looked increasingly concerned, ¡°will inform me when three minutes have passed. You will then have two minutes of rest before finding a new partner. Meanwhile, I will walk between the pairs and make observations.¡±

    There were nods all around. Already, many of the trainees were dripping with nervous sweat. As Ember looked around, she felt surprisingly calm; few were as intimidating as Jisu, and even she did not rival the reptiles or the margay.

    ¡°Of course, you will be exhausted,¡± the instructor continued. ¡°There are nineteen students here, so each of you will be sparring eighteen times. The following matches will be held at the end, for everyone to observe: Lance and Anton; Ember and Jisu; Jamarqius and Simmons.¡±

    Ember glanced at Jisu as their names were announced, receiving a knowing glance in return. She had expected as much; after all, they were among the most likely to be promoted to the intermediate class. Despite her antisocial tendencies, Jisu¡¯s habit of analyzing her opponents had rubbed off on Ember, and she was able to put faces to some of the other names. At the very least, it was a reminder to be especially on guard during her rotational spars with them.

    After waiting another few minutes to allow for warming up, Mr. Badger called for the spar to begin. ¡°Hurry, now!¡± he bellowed, and the students rushed to find a partner, leaving no time to be selective.

    Ember was jostled sideways, finding herself facing a pisces as her first opponent. As Mr. Badger counted down from three, she made a quick evaluation of the fish. She had a much heavier build than Naz, with scaleless grey skin and eight whisker-like spines spouting from around her mouth. She¡¯ll be less agile than Naz but have stronger defenses, Ember hypothesized. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of size: if she had learned anything during her misadventures at the Saline Lake, it was that the spines of aquatic animals were likely to be venomous.

    Each pair greeted each other in a show of respect as Mr. Badger finished his count. Then, without further ceremony, the pisces swung a heavy fist at Ember¡¯s head. She dodged just in time, feeling the rush of air against her ear. The attempt had left the pisces vulnerable to attack, and Ember swung at her calf with a low kick, careful to keep her distance in case the fish was hiding a finishing move. The kick connected with a thwack, and the pisces backed off, grimacing.

    Ember took the opportunity to warm up her strikes. She hit the pisces with two jabs, a cross, and a front kick, pushing her back before she could counter. As per Elliot¡¯s advice, she focused carefully on each movement, pinpointing exactly where it would hit while being mindful of the spines. It wasn¡¯t the type of match that had to be finished early; it was much better to show consistency, ensuring that she wouldn¡¯t take on one opponent just to freeze in front of the next.

    Each time the pisces attempted a punch, Ember slipped easily beneath her arm, coming up with an uppercut or hook to her liver. She was careful to conserve her energy, using just enough to make it clear to Mr. Badger that she had the upper hand. When his call of ¡°Time!¡± came, she was hardly winded, while the pisces had to double over to catch her breath.

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    The next round came all too soon, and after, Ember was sucked into fight after fight, each unbelievably fast-paced. The students rushed to find new opponents, panting desperately during the rest period only to have to throw themselves at each other a moment later. Their moves grew sloppy, and it quickly became a test of endurance rather than skill alone.

    In many of the spars, Ember had a clear advantage, but she would not characterize her opponents as easy. Nearly all of them had dropped the unpredictable movements characteristic of true novices, and could at least hold out in a casual spar. More than once, she spotted Jisu watching her in between strikes, gauging her condition for their upcoming match. Ember was grateful that she had not yet utilized the grappling techniques that the reptiles had taught her, choosing instead to debut them only when the situation required it.

    The rotation spar passed in a blur. When Mr. Badger mercifully called the last round to an end, many of the students dropped to the ground in exhaustion, heaving up what little food they had eaten for breakfast. The instructor looked upon them disapprovingly, allowing only a moment for rest before directing them to form a semi-circle. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll begin the final spars,¡± he explained. ¡°First up, Lance and Anton.¡±

    Ember rested on her knees, sucking in air. Watching the match would benefit her little, now, so she focused on recovering her strength. With both fighters exhausted, the match finished quickly and Lance was declared the winner.

    ¡°Next, Ember and Jisu,¡± Mr. Badger ordered. Ember stood slowly, doing a mental scan of her physical state. Her condition was relatively good: she was bruised but had sustained few major hits, and her muscles had regained some of their strength in the brief rest period.

    Ember walked to the center of the semicircle, facing Jisu. She took stock of her surroundings, verifying that there were no nearby obstacles and checking that Jisu appeared to be in approximately the same condition as herself. Then, she narrowed her eyes, consciously tuning out the spectators and all other distractions.

    ¡°Begin,¡± Mr. Badger ordered. Ember and Jisu shook hands, then stepped back several paces. For a fraction of a second, Ember let tension build in her muscles before striking forward, at full speed, with an axe kick to Jisu¡¯s head.

    It was an explosive strike. Ember¡¯s heel connected with Jisu¡¯s body, producing a crack that rang through the clearing. The force sent both fighters skidding apart. Jisu widened her stance, keeping herself from falling as she was pushed back in a cloud of dust. Her arm, now deeply red, was poised above her head where she had managed to block the hit. She panted, her canines visible through her half-open mouth. Behind her fierce countenance, her emerald eyes widened slightly.

    Ember scowled. She had put all of her energy into the first attack, her best chance of a quick victory, and it had failed. Jisu quickly corrected her stance, her long tail sticking out behind her for balance. She growled, darting forward to engage Ember in a series of blows.

    Ember took a deep breath, raising her fists to her cheekbones and tucking her chin to protect herself from the onslaught. Jisu¡¯s agility overwhelmed her own, leaving her trapped in a defensive position. She kept her eyes trained on the cat¡¯s torso, treating every subtle movement as an indication that a strike was coming. She slipped, ducked, and rolled around the shots, barely managing to dodge. Fists flew passed her head, scraping the skin off of her cheeks, and kicks connected enough to create shallow bruises.

    Without warning, the panther sprang into the air, locking her hands around Ember¡¯s neck. Her legs kicked at Ember¡¯s stomach, the long claws tearing at her flesh. Ember twisted, forcing her head from Jisu¡¯s grasp and using her knee to push her off. She retreated quickly, clamping a hand over the wound and feeling warm blood leaking through her fingers. Her tattered shirt fluttered in the breeze, and the back of her head burned where it had been sliced by the panther¡¯s claws.

    She glanced at Mr. Badger, giving a slight nod to indicate that she wanted to continue. In front of her, Jisu was poised in a crouch, her canines bared. Bloodloss-induced dizziness blurred the edges of her vision. I¡¯m running out of time.

    She took a deep breath, finding the thread that connected her to her instincts. Then, with razor-sharp focus, she let it fray.

    Like when she had seen Charlie for the first time, a wave of electricity rushed through Ember¡¯s body. Her infrared sensors activated, overlaying her vision with shades of red and orange. Time slowed down to a crawl, each second ticking by like water dripping from a facet. Her vision sharpened, illuminating Jisu¡¯s features as if through a microscope: the pores on her forehead seeping sweat, a muscle twitching above her eye, and a cloud of warm air hanging from her lips as she exhaled.

    Ember darted forward fast enough to hear the rushing of the wind in her ears. Her punch connected with Jisu¡¯s shoulder, hard, sinking into the flesh. The force repelled the fighters apart with a bang.

    The panther recovered in seconds, coming at Ember in an attempt to surprise her. This time, though, Ember matched her intensity. The speed and power of the strikes locked the fighters in a bubble of burning hot air. Some of the blows glanced off of Ember¡¯s defenses, lost in space, but others landed with bursts of pain. One of her eyes pinched shut, blocked by a rivulet of blood. Her opponent, too, was growing desperate and dangerous. An opening¡­ I need an opening.

    She sucked in a breath as Jisu launched herself forward. The panther¡¯s arm stretched out, poised to strike head-on. Ember forced herself to stay still, to root herself in place until a tenth of a second before impact. Her good eye flicked over her opponent with vivid clarity.

    There it is. Jisu had overextended herself¡ªnot even by an inch, but enough that she would not be able to retreat in time. Ember¡¯s right arm snapped out, grabbing the back of Jisu¡¯s head and pushing her further into the path of her momentum. At the same time, she sidestepped behind the panther.

    With all the speed she could muster, she threw herself at the cat¡¯s back. Jisu tried to whip around, her emerald eye burning with anger, but it was too late. Ember had wrapped her arm around her opponent¡¯s neck, gripping her own bicep to create the unbreakable seal characteristic of the guillotine choke.

    Jisu hissed, writhing as she tried to sink her teeth into Ember¡¯s flesh, but her neck was immobilized. Ember tightened her grip steadily. The cat¡¯s claws scratched desperately at her arm, initially glancing off of her scales but then finding purchase and gouging the skin beneath.

    Ember closed her eyes, weathering the pain. Jisu stumbled, sputtering, her attempts at dislodging her growing increasingly weak. Then, finally, her knees buckled, sending them both collapsing to the forest floor.

 41: Infrared Thermography

    Jisu¡¯s eyes snapped open. She lay still on her back, her arms and legs extended as if she were sunbathing. ¡°You beat me,¡± she said, turning her head to look at Ember. She raised a finger, pointing at Mr. Badger. ¡°You really caught up, just as he said you would.¡±

    Ember looked at the instructor for an explanation, but he was crouching down by the cat¡¯s side, making sure that her injuries didn¡¯t require immediate attention.

    Ember wiped her forehead. She had landed uncomfortably on her knees, scraping them raw. Her vision was still muddled with her infrared sensing, so she closed her eyes tightly, pulling herself back from her instinct with a great effort. With the return came waves of pain from her wounds and profound, all-consuming exhaustion.

    She met Jisu¡¯s eyes, and an understanding passed between them. Jisu looked away, smiling ruefully.

    Uncharacteristically, Mr. Badger patted Jisu¡¯s shoulder before standing.  ¡°An impressive match from both fighters, with Ember taking the win. Both women will advance to the intermediate class. Sam,¡± he said, pointing at Ember¡¯s old training partner (who had escaped the rotation spar without much harm), ¡°please escort them to the infirmary.¡±

    Ember stood, offering her hand to Jisu, but the panther batted it away. She stood heavily, dripping blood onto the forest floor. Her neck was bruised from the choke, but Ember had no doubt that her pride had been more seriously damaged. Though Ember had occasionally beaten her in casual spars, it had been when Jisu wasn¡¯t using the full scope of her abilities, so the latest outcome must have shaken her deeply.

    Together with Sam, they began the long and slow march to the infirmary. Ember held a hand in front of her, looking at her bloodied knuckles. I¡­  I actually won. For the first time, she had tapped into her instincts purposefully, the culmination of her training, research, and the increased dose of the treatment. It was a long-awaited landmark of progress.

    Weariness caught up to Ember by the time they neared the infirmary, and she let herself be guided, trancelike, to a bed next to Jisu. She lay on the cool sheets, staring at the wooden ceiling beams, succumbing to the thoughts fluttering by like butterflies. I must be stronger than almost all humans, now, in hand-to-hand combat. She pictured her father, who had always been a weather-beaten and frail man, as he attempted to hold back the guards who had taken her. If I had this power, could I have protected us back then?

    Something brushed her hand, and she looked over to see Jisu, who had reached out her arm from her position in the adjacent cot. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, her head facing away from Ember. ¡°It was just¡­ unexpected. Have you been doing extra training?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ember admitted, ¡°with the reptiles. Honestly, it was my intention to surprise you. I could have used grappling techniques during class, but I didn¡¯t. It was partially because of what you told me about fighting like a Linnaean.¡±

    Jisu sighed, pausing for a moment to think. ¡°I¡¯m not giving up. I¡¯m going to work twice¡ªno, three times as hard. We¡¯ll go to the intermediate and advanced classes together.¡±

    Ember smiled, feeling her metal-capped fang poke into her lip. ¡°Okay.¡±

    ***

    Ember raised the flask to her lips, tilting her head back as the burning liquid slid down her throat. ¡°This is disgusting,¡± she said, wiping her mouth and passing it to Carn.

    He laughed, his image slightly distorted by the patches of orange and yellow evoked by her infrared vision, which had disobeyed her commands from the very first drought. ¡°I didn¡¯t buy it for the taste.¡±

    Ember was beginning to see what he meant. The pain from her wounds, stitched only two days before, dulled substantially with each mouthful. She scooted over on the log, feeling wobbly, and Naz held out a hand to stabilize her. ¡°This drink is made from the agave plant, you know. I wonder who figured that out.¡±

    Ember let out a laugh, startling herself. She held her hands out over the fire, where the remnants of their roasted squirrel dinner were still clinging to the spit. A pair of glowing eyes shone from the underbrush, hoping for scraps, and Ember flung the remains in its direction.

    Most of the dorm prefects had chosen to lift the curfews since classes had ended, and she could hear other university students celebrating nearby. The clearing outside of the mammalia dorm, where they had chosen to spend the evening, was especially lively.

    ¡°Naz, are you staying for winter break?¡± Carn slurred, sloshing some of the liquid from the flask.

    ¡°I¡¯m staying with my father for a week,¡± the pisces answered, ¡°but I¡¯ll be back in time for the festival.¡±

    ¡°What ¡®bout you, Ember?¡±

    ¡°Where would I go?¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± the fox nodded sagely, bumping her in the arm. ¡°I heard from a friend that you dominated the evaluation. Even I couldn¡¯t stop you now.¡±

    Ember looked at him sharply, suddenly a fraction soberer as she remembered the incident with Charlie. He¡¯s right; I have to be more careful from now on.

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    ¡°Congratulations,¡± Naz said softly, reaching out to touch Ember¡¯s cheek, which was purpling from one of Jisu¡¯s punches. ¡°Is that what this is from?¡±

    She nodded, and Naz looked down at her cup. ¡°Honestly, there¡¯s something I need to tell you.¡±

    Ember waited, aware that the mood had grown serious despite her buzzed head. ¡°You know how I promised I would look for an alternative way to contact your father?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ember acknowledged, tilting her head. ¡°When we were at that restaurant on Main Street.¡±

    ¡°Well, I failed,¡± Naz said, her brow furrowing as she stared into the flames. ¡°I did everything I could imagine. First, I asked my professors in the human relations department, but they wouldn¡¯t tell me anything. Then, I sent a message to my father in the city, but he was clueless, too.¡±

    ¡°Naz-¡±

    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said, looking pained. ¡°On finals week, I noticed that Freya, the harpy eagle ranker, was assisting a class near mine. I knew you might not want me to, but I asked her if her sister would at least hear a request without a challenge. But she rejected me.¡± Naz scowled, tucking her knees close to her chest. ¡°I can¡¯t understand it.¡±

    Ember sighed, wiping her mouth of the foul alcohol. She, too, had spoken to several professors, advisors, and even Corax himself after the battle with the margay. ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± she said, ¡°it¡¯s what I expected. I believe that Orthus was telling the truth: right now, the best way to contact my father is to battle Freya and earn an audience with her dove sister.¡±

    Naz sighed. ¡°I just¡­ I wanted you to be able to stop this fighting nonsense. I know you¡¯re doing it because you have to¡ªyou don¡¯t live for it like the others.¡±

    Ember paused to peel off the remnants of a scale that had been damaged during the fight. ¡°It¡¯s as Corax said: becoming stronger is the only way to do anything in this world. I¡¯ll go to any lengths to find my father. Hell, I¡¯ll go to the mainland if I have to.¡±

    Naz looked up, meeting her eyes. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Ember said, putting a gentle hand on her friend¡¯s arm. She took the flask from Carn, who was lost in his own world, and poured the rest of its contents into Naz¡¯s cup. ¡°Relax. It hasn¡¯t come to that, yet.¡± She looked up, where the moon was barely visible through the treetops. ¡°Either way, the issue is not going to be resolved tonight. Come on, we still have many things to celebrate.¡±

    ***

    Ember grunted as her back hit the ground. Waves of force exploded out from her chest, stealing her breath. She sat up, clutching her side and gasping. Marcus stood above her, his legs still planted far apart in the stance from which he¡¯d flipped her.

    ¡°Keep your head up,¡± he instructed. ¡°That defensive posture is doing you more harm than good. And, for god¡¯s sake, learn how to fall correctly.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Elliot interjected, coming down from a handstand. ¡°Either roll or break your fall. Relax your muscles and dissipate the force through your limbs.¡±

    Ember groaned, her eyes watering from the throw. Although she was grateful that the reptiles had allowed her to continue training with them after her evaluation, the early mornings and constant beatings were taking their toll.

    Marcus sighed, sitting down next to her. ¡°There¡¯s another way you could have stopped me, too, you know.¡±

    Ember looked at him in surprise. Though she did spar with him¡ªwhich always ended in a crushing defeat¡ªhe was the sarcastic type, and it was usually Amir or Elliot who gave her advice. ¡°How?¡±

    He pointed at a spot on his outer thigh. ¡°I have an old injury right here. I hide it well, but if you were to strike it directly, it would disable me for at least a moment.¡±

    Ember looked back at him, confused. ¡°How would I know that, though?¡±

    He shook his head, bothered that he was being asked to explain. ¡°Your infrared vision, obviously. It¡¯s far more useful than you think.¡± He reached out, flicking her cheek in a markedly irritating manner. As he leaned closer, she noticed that a series of shallow pits lined his jaw. They differed in number and placement from her own, the reason that she had overlooked them before.

    ¡°Listen closely,¡± he said, lowering his voice. ¡°You¡¯re aware that infrared vision works by detecting heat, yes? Well, even the slightest injury can disrupt the way that blood flows and change the skin temperature.¡±

    Ember looked at him with interest, offense forgotten. ¡°Are you saying it¡¯s possible to find someone¡¯s weak points just by looking at them?¡±

    Marcus nodded. ¡°If you hone your ability, it¡¯s possible to sense even temporary fatigue. In fact, you may be able to find a weakness before the Linnaean themself knows of it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s incredible,¡± Ember said, her mind racing as she considered his words. ¡°But it must be a difficult technique if each ailment causes its own pattern.¡±

    ¡°Precisely. Asymmetry is the first indication, and it takes time to analyze. Each color corresponds to its own temperature range. Swelling will increase temperature, while chronic degeneration will decrease it.¡±

    Ember bit her lip. Why did I never consider the meaning of the colors?

    ¡°Try it,¡± Marcus said, gesturing at his injury again. ¡°The blue pattern is where the tissue is the coolest, and the yellow is where it¡¯s hottest. On the most basic level, the lighter the color, the higher the temperature.¡±

    Ember turned her head, focusing on his thigh, and activated her infrared vision. His leg glowed red, orange, and green, forming blotches that pulsed like otherworldly creatures. She leaned close, trying to identify the pattern of the injury, but the shapes slipped from her grasp, gyrating and undulating too quickly for her to pin them down. She closed her eyes, delegating every ounce of her focus to the heat signals.

    ¡°Augh!¡± she exclaimed, pulling away as her heat pits throbbed. For a moment, both forms of vision failed, and she almost fell into Marcus¡¯s lap.

    ¡°What are you two doing?¡± Elliot asked, wiping the dirt from his hands.

    ¡°None of your business,¡± Marcus said with a glare, and Ember realized that even the prefect may not know the python¡¯s technique.

    Elliot raised a hand in surrender, backing out of earshot, and Marcus waited for her to regain her balance. ¡°What did you see?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°The image was too unstable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how it was for me, too. You¡¯ve probably never tried to direct your sense like that, so it¡¯s going to take a lot of practice.¡±

    Ember nodded, deciding that researching the new skill should be her immediate priority. If I can master it, it will be an undeniable advantage.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, looking up at Marcus. ¡°I appreciate it.¡±

    He huffed, assuming his usual guarded expression. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, really. There are not many snakes around here, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Ember smiled, realizing that at some point in the last two weeks, she had earned his respect. ¡°As you say,¡± she agreed, lowering her head. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t mind if I come to you for help again.¡±

    He crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°Well¡­ if you must.¡±

 42: Instructor Ophelia

    Ember planted her boot in the underbrush, pulling herself up to the summit of the hill. Ahead was a domed building constructed entirely of metal and stone, an unusual combination for the city¡¯s architecture. Looming at its rear was an impressively large compound built from the same materials.

    She unfolded her map, her finger hovering over the location that Mr. Badger had circled in red. ¡°I think this is it.¡±

    Jisu squinted. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect it to be so close to the ranked complex.¡±

    Ember shrugged uneasily. Indeed, if she kept still enough, she thought she could hear the sound of heavy blows smashing against their targets. Steeling herself, she took a swig from her canteen and began the descent down the hill.

    Mercifully, it was the last leg of what had been a long and arduous hike to the training grounds. The half-frozen branches had torn at her new training uniform, which had been delivered along with the map by mule the day before. Unlike most of Mendel¡¯s clothing, it was tight-fitting, consisting of dark green trousers, a long-sleeved, lace-up shirt, and a thick cloak that clasped at the neck. A leather belt could be fitted around the waist, allowing the fighter to attach the sheath of a knife or sword. She had also been issued a new pair of knee-high leather boots, lightweight enough to run in but also sufficiently durable.

    They arrived at the foot of the hill just as a group of Linnaeans was leaving the complex. Jisu grabbed Ember by the arm, tugging her aside so that they could watch the fighters pass unnoticed. It was an eccentric band, consisting of a horned mammal, a pisces, and two insects. The mammal carried a bow and the fish a mace, but the two insects were seemingly unarmed. Unlike Ember, they all wore bands around their biceps, indicating their status as high-level fighters.

    ¡°The advanced class,¡± Jisu said, looking at them appreciatively. As they drew closer, Ember noticed that their uniforms were well-worn and bloodstained, and their appearance was similarly haggard. Still, though, they were laughing among themselves as they limped into the forest. ¡°They¡¯re preparing to debut,¡± Jisu guessed. ¡°If they become rankers now, they can participate in the spring tournament.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Ember said, memorizing their faces in case she ever found herself facing them. She stepped back out onto the path when fighters passed, looking at Jisu expectantly. ¡°Come on, I¡¯d rather not be late.¡±

    Together, they walked up the trail toward the domed building. Ember took it in with wide eyes, trying not to look too awestruck and betray her inexperience. Some of the buildings had been constructed out of the hill itself and vanished into the bulging earth; others were multiple stories, with the top floors serving as open-air arenas. Vines crept up the stone, softening its stark appearance. Occasionally, a tremor of unknown origin passed underfoot and disappeared into the distance.

    A set of double doors marked the entrance to the domed building. It was an imposing sight¡ªthe heavy hardwood had been reinforced with beams of iron, and what appeared to be a bloody handprint was stamped near the doorknob. A placard above the doors bore the words ¡®For the glory of Mendel¡¯.

    With a great effort, Jisu pulled open the door. Ember entered slowly, initially unable to make sense of the interior. The stone ceiling arched high above, creating the illusion of a never-ending spiral, and scaffolding reached to its peak. A handful of Linnaeans sat with their legs hanging over the edge, watching the battleground below. On the arena floor, two fighters were sparring with swords, the metal clanging jarringly each time their weapons met in a whirl of motion.

    The flooring was hard-packed sand, devoid of any obstacles so that a large number of trainees could spar simultaneously. The walls, however, were lined with weapons and armor of all varieties. Many of them were foreign to Ember: toothed swords, daggers with multiple blades, and spears topped with double-headed axes.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come a long way from the beginner¡¯s class,¡± Ember breathed, referencing the modest clearing in which they¡¯d trained.

    ¡°Keep your head up,¡± Jisu advised. ¡°We deserve to be here.¡±

    Ember opened her mouth, intending to agree, but a sudden motion caught her attention. Behind Jisu, a female Linnaean was descending the scaffolding expertly. She appeared to glide rather than climb, aided by bristle-like appendages that sprouted from regular intervals around her body. She released her grip as she reached the last fifteen feet, landing in a cloud of dust.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said, standing up to her full height.

    Ember mumbled a reply, distracted by her otherworldly appearance. Silvery, segmented armor covered most of her body, anchoring the fiery orange spines. Like Orthus, her coloration was both vivid and fluid, shifting drastically each time it caught the light.

    ¡°My name is Ophelia,¡± she continued. ¡°I¡¯m a ranker and the head instructor for the intermediate class. Am I right to assume that you two are Ember and Jisu?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± the panther confirmed.

    ¡°We¡¯re glad to have you,¡± Ophelia said. Without warning, she gripped a bristle on her wrist, snapping it off before reaching out in greeting. Ember flinched at the noise, prompting a laugh. ¡°Worry not; they grow back quickly. That one was particularly annoying, and I would rather not prick one of my students again.¡±

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    Ember nodded slowly, thrown off by the use of the word ¡®again.¡¯ As Ophelia shook Jisu¡¯s hand, she realized that the instructor wore six bands¡ªthree on each arm¡ªas well as a patch in the shape of a pair of wings.

    ¡°Goodness, look at the time!¡± Ophelia said, glancing at her wrist (which did not, in fact, bear a watch). ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me, I need to prepare for our class. You two should wait here and become acquainted with your peers.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember said, and she and Jisu retreated near the wall to put down their bags and wrap their hands.

    A moment passed in silence before Jisu looked up, her expression pensive. ¡°She was strong. I could sense it.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± Ember commented. Despite her upbeat personality, Ophelia had radiated danger like a brightly-colored poisonous plant, and her watchful eye mirrored Elliot¡¯s. If anything, her peculiar behavior was probably intended to ease our fears.

    ¡°We have a lot to learn from her,¡± Jisu added, sitting against the wall in order to stretch out her hamstrings. Ember joined her, keeping a close watch on the entrance as the members of the intermediate class began to arrive. Like the beginners, they represented a wide range of ages and species, but they interacted with the ease of practiced fighters.

    Amid the sea of new faces, Ember spotted Lance and Jamarquis, two acquaintances from Mr. Badger¡¯s class. She raised her hand in greeting, and they beelined over, clearly grateful not to be the only new initiates. She looked them over, paying greater attention now that she knew they were skilled. Both young men were in uniform, though Jamarquis had modified his shirt to allow room for his two sets of wings. He had dark skin and insectile features, while Lance was petite and covered in snow-white fur.

    ¡°Were you the only others to move up?¡± Jisu asked, sharpening a claw with her blade.

    Jamarquis nodded. ¡°Just the four of us out of the nineteen who made it to the evaluation.¡±

    Ember looked down, finding it unsettling that she was now in a league entirely above so many Linnaeans with whom she had intimately trained. Jisu, on the other hand, was characteristically unaffected. ¡°Your species are the dragonfly and the ermine, correct?¡±

    Both men nodded. ¡°I¡¯m a viper,¡± Ember supplied, not wanting to appear rude.

    ¡°I know,¡± Jamarquis answered. ¡°I was concerned that Mr. Badger would pair us during the evaluation, so I consulted Sam, your previous partner. I was assigned to Simmons, though, so you and I only had the opportunity to fight casually.¡±

    Ember looked up in surprise, meeting his keen gaze. Is he implying that he would have beaten me in a proper match?

    ¡°Did you meet our new instructor?¡± Lance interrupted, demonstrating surprising flexibility as he reached down to touch the toe of his boots. ¡°What was she like?¡±

    ¡°Intimidating. She¡¯s got these bristles that I think are poisonous, but I couldn¡¯t deduce her species.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a fireworm,¡± Jamarquis supplied. ¡°I heard it from my roommate, who dropped out of this class last year.¡±

    Ember tilted her head. If it was true, Ophelia was only the second vermes she had met, which explained why her mannerisms seemed so alien.

    ¡°Gather around!¡± someone called, and Ember looked up to see Ophelia herself in the center of the arena. She had been joined by a long-legged, muscled male fighter with features that seemed both canine and feline. The two swordsmen had finished their spar, leaving the white sand under their boots stained with blood.

    The trainees pulled themselves to their feet, forming two lines. Ember followed along as they bowed, performed a salute, and then assumed a crouch position.

    ¡°Welcome to the intermediate class,¡± Ophelia said, pacing in front of them. ¡°I see many familiar faces, but some new blood as well, which I hope will provide a challenge for our returning students. For the next month, you will meet here every other day promptly at eight in the morning, with the exception of the festival. I expect you to arrive in uniform and with your weapon of choice.¡±

    She gestured to the wall, where a wiry man was tending to the swordsmen¡¯s weapons, which had been dirtied during their spar. ¡°If you have not already, you must meet with the resident armorer to have a protective coating fitted to the blade of your weapon. Those of you without defensive mutations should also consider selecting a set of armor. I want all of you in peak condition, which means minimizing unnecessary injuries this season.¡±

    A handful of the returning students grimaced, and Ember shot Jisu a glance. What happened before we joined?

    ¡°Now, are there any questions before I continue?¡± Ophelia asked.

    Lance raised his hand. ¡°Excuse me, but what is the meaning of the markings on your arm?¡±

    One of the older trainees muttered something under his breath, evidently finding the remark amateurish, and Lance blushed with embarrassment. Ember looked to Ophelia, hoping she would provide an answer.

    ¡°Good question,¡± the instructor commented, glaring firmly at the student who had spoken out of turn. ¡°Both the intermediate and advanced classes are divided into three levels, represented by a band. You can be promoted to the next level only at my discretion. As you can see, I have six bands, as I have progressed through both classes in their entirety. I also have this pair of wings, which classifies me as one of the top fifty rankers.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Lance said quietly, and Ember silently echoed the sentiment. The designation meant that she was, at the very minimum, in the top twelve percent of rankers.

    ¡°Now, as you may have noticed, my physiology is similar to that of a pinecone,¡± she continued amiably. ¡°This means that demonstrating skills can be a challenge. Therefore, I will have two assistant instructors to assist me. Michael,¡± she indicated the carnivore at her right, ¡°is one of them. The other, unfortunately, is late.¡±

    Just as the words left her mouth, the entrance to the training arena swung open. A male Linnaean was framed in the doorway, his impressive wings nearly scraping the ground as he strode toward the group.

    Oh no. Ember¡¯s stomach churned, and she leaned forward, hoping that she was mistaken. Please, god, no¡­

    ¡°Here he is, finally. My other assistant and a new ranker, Roland Raiford!¡±

 43: Opening Day

    Jisu stretched out her knife, pointing it squarely at Ember¡¯s chest. Taking a deep breath, Ember rushed forward, wrapping both of her arms around Jisu¡¯s in order to trap the weapon. The blade poked her stomach, but the natural rubber coating kept it from slicing her skin. She twisted toward the panther¡¯s body, applying pressure until she was forced to drop the knife.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± Ember cringed, lifting up her shirt to see a reddening wound. ¡°I think I¡¯m beginning to understand. Maybe we can try it a bit faster-¡± she stopped suddenly, feeling a prickling sensation at her nape. She turned, her worries confirmed when she caught Roland observing their drill.

    ¡°Ember, your form is atrocious,¡± he commented, his arms folded firmly over his chest. ¡°Why did you use a cross-block when your opponent was holding her weapon at chest level?¡±

    Ember scowled. In a class of twenty-five students, he had managed to find time during both of the first sessions to terrorize her. She could have stomached the advice itself, but his condescending tone pushed it over the edge of unbearably.

    ¡°Come here,¡± he said, pointing in front of him. Ember obeyed, facing him head-on. ¡°Raise your weapon.¡±

    She pulled the fang knife from its sheath. It, too, had been dulled with the rubber covering. She pointed it at Roland, recalling that it wasn¡¯t the first time he had been on the opposite end of her weapon. Memorably, that encounter had left her with one fewer canine tooth.

    ¡°Attack me,¡± he ordered.

    ¡°But that¡¯s not what the drill-¡±

    ¡°Attack,¡± he commanded, this time more forcefully. Ember glanced at Jisu, whose mouth was set in a thin line. She shrugged, indicating that Ember should play along. There would be no help from the other students and instructors, who were engaged in their own training.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Ember said. If he¡¯s asking me to stab him, I might as well do it right. Without any further ceremony, she sprang forward at full power with the blade aimed at Roland¡¯s neck.

    The strike was lightning-fast, but the hawk was faster. His left arm snapped out, pushing against her chin, and the other wrapped around her wrist. He clenched, hard, making her drop the knife with a grunt of pain.

    She panted, trapped in his vice-like grip. ¡°There,¡± she panted, ¡°I see now, thank you. You can let go.¡±

    Wordlessly, he stepped inward, unbalancing her with his bottom leg. She tried unsuccessfully to jerk away before he flipped her, ruthlessly, over his hip.

    As Ember¡¯s feet left the ground, a familiar feeling overtook her. In the last three weeks of training with the reptiles, she had been taken down at least a hundred times, enough for muscle memory to form.

    Her eyes snapped open, meeting Roland¡¯s contorted expression. She yanked her hands free mid-air, crossing them and gripping his collar in a firm hold. At the same time, her left leg drove into the back of his knee, forcing him to fall on top of her.

    He jerked back, caught off guard, but Ember held him firm. ¡°Listen,¡± she said ferociously, ¡°you were right. I¡¯m a viper, and we¡¯re natural enemies. You weren¡¯t entirely in control of what happened before, so I¡¯ll let it go. But if you dare to threaten me again, I won¡¯t hold back.¡±

    Roland snarled, his orange eyes narrowed with fury, and his wings unfurled above their heads. Ember let go, covering her face just as they beat down, generating a torrent of sand particles.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Jisu exclaimed, and Ember felt the panther¡¯s hand wrap around her bicep and pull her to her feet.

    The sand settled, revealing Roland in his usual self-assured stance. He ignored Jisu, instead looking down his nose at Ember. ¡°You¡¯re bluffing¡ªyou still have no chance against me in a fight. This all could have been avoided if you told me your species from the start.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ember shook her head, her voice rising. ¡°You were the one who wouldn¡¯t let it go. You can¡¯t stand that I took the first rank from you, and now you¡¯re trying to push me out of this class. Sure, you¡¯re stronger than me¡ªfor now¡ªbut do you think you can avoid my fangs forever? We¡¯re both part human, too, so stop using our species as an excuse to treat me like shit.¡±

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    A crack appeared in Roland¡¯s composure. ¡°You-¡±

    ¡°Is everything okay here?¡±

    Ember, Jisu, and Roland whipped around, noticing Michael, the other assistant instructor. He glanced between them with a half-confused, half-stern expression. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine,¡± Roland snapped, pushing past him and disappearing between the groups of students.

    ¡°Okay, then,¡± Michael said, looking at Ember, who offered a shrug. Before he could inquire further, there was a shout from somewhere else in the arena, prompting him to hurry away.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be the last of it,¡± Ember sighed, crouching down to retrieve the fang knife.

    ¡°You surprised him, at least,¡± Jisu replied. ¡°He might hesitate to threaten you for a while.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to perfect this technique,¡± Ember said. ¡°Ready to go again?¡±

    ***

    Ember pulled herself to her knees on the carriage bench, leaning out to watch as they entered the city. A stream of cold air pulled her hood back, blasting her face. ¡°Woah!¡± Morgan said, gripping her calf in fear that she¡¯d fall.

    Ember laughed, looking back at the carriage. Next to Morgan was her new romantic partner, Sebastian, a male Linnaean of the mammalian class who was raising an eyebrow in amusement. Across from them sat Naz, Carn, and Charlie, the last of whom had kept one nervous eye on Ember since the moment they boarded. In an attempted distraction, the fox leaned over to point out something of interest, receiving a small smile in return.

    Feeling satisfied, Ember turned her attention back to their surroundings. Mendel had been transformed in preparation for the Solstice Festival. Near the path itself, strings of garland had been woven through the trees and interspersed with berry-stuffed pinecones. Bright yellow flowers broke through the freshly fallen snow, emitting a sweet aroma. Rabbits and white-tailed deer nibbled the decorations, regarding the passersby without care.

    As they drew near, the city proper materialized amongst the trees, a mystical sight beneath the snow and the curtains of vines. The wind swept through the evergreen needles, creating a gentle rustling that was complemented by a chorus of voices. Linnaeans were arriving in all directions, some borne by draft animals and others on foot. Much of their laughter was absorbed by the snow and the canopy, and the rest floated around the trees like fallen leaves along a gentle river.

    When the crowd grew dense enough to block the trail ahead, Ember and her friends disembarked, stopping briefly to rub the horse¡¯s mane in thanks. The group of six held onto each other to keep from being separated. It was Naz¡¯s slim fingers that gripped Ember¡¯s, tugging her gently through the crush.

    Ember took a deep breath as they emerged from the sea of movement and noise. Naz had led them to the center of Mendel¡¯s Main Street. Throughout the network of branches, vendors had erected temporary stalls, calling out in singsong voices as they offered up freshly picked persimmons and golden twine. Music floated up from every corner, springing from wooden flutes and stringed lutes.

    Unlike the tournaments, where the atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the Linnaeans wandered through the city with an air of blissfulness. They were everywhere that Ember¡¯s eyes alighted: walking along the highest branches, holding hands on the trail, or dining at tucked-away establishments. Many had dressed for the occasion in flowy clothing hand-embroidered with scenes of flora and fauna. A few were accompanied by companion animals, who peeked out from a scarf or bag where they had taken refuge from the cold.

    A few children dashed around strangers¡¯ legs, clutching steaming bread, while the elderly walked with the assistance of their loved ones. For the first time, Ember spotted several Mendelians who appeared to be fully human, a sight that stirred up thoughts of her father.

    ¡°This way,¡± Naz said, knowing the city the best out of the group. They followed her between the trees, traversing a path that wound through the towering roots. Tucked inside a colossal redwood was a small eatery surrounded by a halo of smoke.

    ¡°Six hot chocolates,¡± Naz said, pushing a bronze disk across the counter. She was immediately inundated by requests to chip in, but she shook her head with a laugh. ¡°My treat.¡±

    The shopkeeper raised a kettle from the stove, pouring the steaming milk into five papery cups. Ember took hers gratefully, watching as a clump of chocolate was dissolved into a creamy mixture. She could feel the heat even through her thick gloves. Despite being plant-based, the drink went down easily, warming her chest and stomach.

    The friends huddled together, making light conversation as they enjoyed the sweet taste. Ember was glad to see them relaxed and smiling, having left the stress of exams far behind. Carn seemed especially joyful, with one arm thrown over Charlie¡¯s shoulders. Naz¡¯s gift had inspired an air of generosity, and they all hinted at finding each other small presents.

    ¡°Seb and I are going to find a cloakmaker,¡± Morgan announced as she finished her drink. ¡°I have no clothes for this weather. How about we meet back here before nightfall?¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± Carn said. ¡°I think Charlie and I will go off on our own too. See you all soon?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Naz agreed, and she and Ember waved goodbye as the others disappeared into the crowd. She turned to Ember, her face glowing with contentment. ¡°Where shall we go first?¡±

 44: Shooting the Breeze

    ¡°Here you are,¡± the server said, setting their plates down with a flourish of her wrist. Ember¡¯s mouth watered as she looked at the trout, which had been grilled whole and laid over slices of lemon. As she slit it open with her knife, a fragrant aroma wafted over the group. She scooted a bone aside, bringing a forkful of fish to her lips. Flavor blossomed in her mouth, delicious and airy.

    ¡°I¡¯m a little concerned at how eagerly you¡¯re eating that,¡± Naz said drily, eyeing her sideways. Ember stopped mid-chew, recalling that her friend was a pisces.

    ¡°Erm-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m joking,¡± Naz laughed, leaning over to steal a bite. ¡°Although I am relieved that they don¡¯t serve loach here.¡±

    Ember crossed her arms, shooting Naz a look. The amount of food-related humor had increased substantially since the incident with Charlie, which she feared would only further alienate her from him. Still, though, he seemed happy enough as he picked at his plate of berries and grilled insects, engaging in a quiet conversation with Carn.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to have a quiet dinner,¡± Morgan said, her new red cloak spread across her torso like a blanket. She glanced at Sebastian, who nodded. ¡°We had a busy day. Both of us had been saving our stipends for this.¡±

    Ember raised her glass of cider in wholehearted agreement. The treehouse restaurant was in a beautiful location, suspended high in the trees. They were seated on the outdoor platform, which was enclosed by a balustrade and warmed by torches on tall stakes. Their table was situated above the network of pathways, offering a bird¡¯s eye view of Linnaeans in their winter clothing as they navigated the city.

    ¡°We did some shopping as well,¡± Naz said, holding up their bags.

    ¡°Ember did? Really?¡± Morgan asked, leaning forward. ¡°Show me!¡±

    Ember took her bag, lifting each item out carefully. The first was a set of artisan bath soaps, which were made from beeswax and had been lauded by the vendor as many times better than the university¡¯s provisions. They had been poured in the shape of tiny honeycombs and smelled sugary, a fact that amused Morgan. ¡°What a pleasing little trinket,¡± she said, turning it over. ¡°I wonder how it was made?¡±

    After a moment of discussion, Ember lifted out the next item, a whetstone and cleaning rag for her fang knife. Sebastian was particularly interested, reminding her to submerge it in oil before use and to work on the entire blade at once. ¡°He¡¯s something of a weapon enthusiast,¡± Morgan explained, looking at him appreciatively.

    Ember was especially careful with the last item, the crowning jewel of the collection. She unfolded the parcel, revealing a stack of golden fabric that unfurled into a full-length outfit. It was a piece designed especially for the upcoming ball, a jumpsuit-gown hybrid that allowed for a wide range of motion.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Morgan breathed, running the fabric through her hands, and even Charlie paused his conversation with Carn. Unlike the formal clothing in Ciradyl, it was soft and flowed easily, shimmering thanks to the flecks of gold sewn into its upper layer. ¡°This is stunning. It must have cost you.¡±

    ¡°Ember¡¯s stipend is larger than ours,¡± Naz reminded her.

    ¡°Still, it made a dent,¡± Ember admitted. ¡°But it was worth it.¡± She leaned back, recalling how the dressmaker had shone with pride as she showed off her work, a craft she had brought from one of the northern city-states. In fact, most of the festival¡¯s goods had been crafted with such care and skill. The Linnaean people may be hard, but they are equally as passionate.

    As dusk became night, the friends fell into deep conversation. Many of the stories of the first semester were retold: the wolf¡¯s bloodlust, Hickory¡¯s various challenges, the tournaments, the battle with the margay, and countless others. Each development warranted gasps from the listeners, who hung off of the storyteller¡¯s every word. It wasn¡¯t until the server announced the restaurant¡¯s closing that they finally parted, promising to meet again for the events of the second day.

    ***

    Ember leaned forward, trying to catch a better view of the arena far below. The hippodrome was packed for the second event of the day, a game in which two teams were trying to gain control of a spherical, leather-wrapped sheep¡¯s bladder. Stadium vendors climbed up and down the tall aisles, supplying the cinnamon-roasted nuts and grain alcohol whose scent permeated the air. Most prominent was the chatter of thousands of Linnaeans, a sound that pushed at Ember from all sides.

    One of the players headbutted the ball, sending it ricocheting into the other team¡¯s goal. The crowd erupted into groans and roars, drowning out the announcer¡¯s voice. ¡°Nice!¡± Jisu exclaimed, clenching her fist in victory.

    ¡°I thought you could only use your feet,¡± Ember said.

    ¡°Feet, elbows, knees, heads¡­ just not hands,¡± Naz supplied. At the same time, one of the players punched another in the stomach, stealing the ball. ¡°Unless it¡¯s to hit someone, apparently.¡±

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    ¡°That was illegal,¡± Jisu pointed out as the referee scurried across the field, attempting to issue a penalty.

    ¡°Does it have to be so violent?¡± Naz asked, looking sideways at Jisu, who had a characteristically bloodthirsty look in her eyes. Ember silently agreed¡ªin fact, a javelin from the previous competition still stuck out unseemingly from the lowest wall, where it had narrowly avoided impaling a spectator.

    ¡°It¡¯s entertaining,¡± Jisu argued. ¡°Besides, the players enjoy it.¡±

    As the two bickered, Ember turned around on the stone bleacher, looking over the top of the hippodrome. In the surrounding forest, many Linnaeans were picnicking around small fires, and she combed through them to see if she could catch a glimpse of her other friends. The couples had again gone off by themselves, though they had all agreed to meet for the night¡¯s performances. Ember and Naz had stumbled upon Jisu that morning, who had inexplicably been devouring a whole chicken alone at a breakfast restaurant.

    Ember turned back, occupying herself by counting the rows of hippodrome seats. While the first day had been mostly centered around the markets, the second was about the athletes and performers, which required her to brave the massive audiences. By her best estimate, the stadium itself had a capacity of approximately twenty thousand. Nearly every seat was filled, and there were thousands more Mendelians in the vicinity watching the smaller competitions or visiting the markets.

    ¡°Naz,¡± she asked, ignoring as Jisu shushed her, ¡°what¡¯s Mendel¡¯s population?¡±

    The pisces tilted her head. ¡°About thirty-five thousand live within the city walls, and another ten thousand elsewhere in the Old Forest.¡±

    Ember took a moment to think. It was a greater number than she would have suspected, though dwarfed many times over by even the smallest of the thirteen city-states. It was a worrisome comparison, one which brought the Blackwater Caves to mind, where Igor had told her about Corax¡¯s defense strategy.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re studying human relations,¡± she said to the pisces, struggling to make herself heard over the surrounding noise. ¡°Do you believe that the humans will wage war against us?¡±

    Naz frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a hard question. The treaty has held for a century. It¡¯s shaky, yes, but not in imminent danger of collapsing; honestly, I¡¯d like to think that it¡¯s just as likely to strengthen as it is to fail. Linnaeans may be mistreated on the mainland, but at least they are delivered here with their lives.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Ember said, resting her face on her chin. Does that mean all of Corax¡¯s initiatives are just a precaution? Though curious, she didn¡¯t want to sour the mood with further discussion, instead deciding to occupy herself by practicing her infrared vision on the players below. The cold weather made their thermal footprints easier to discern, which in Ember¡¯s opinion, was its only benefit. Since speaking with Marcus, she had managed to lengthen the time she could use the skill as well as its clarity, though she still struggled to maintain it long enough to analyze the color patterns.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re training again,¡± Jisu said into Ember¡¯s ear, startling her. Indignantly, she swung into a one-armed push-up position, earning a few bewildered looks from the nearby spectators. ¡°Not without me. I forbid it!¡±

    ¡°You two are insane,¡± Naz sighed, covering her face in embarrassment.

    Sandwiched between them, Ember tilted her head back and laughed, a sound that carried over the walls of the hippodrome and was lost amid the branches.

    ***

    The performer stretched out her arms, her full-length red coat flaring behind her. The extravagant outfit was made more absurd by her bright orange fur, a feature that identified her as a primate. Her assistant tossed her three large rings, which she displayed to the audience one by one.

    At her cue, a band of three struck up a vibrant folk song. The clarinet wove the melody around the guitar and tambourine, rising and falling in a charming cadence. It was a genre that Ember had begun to associate with Mendel; she had heard nothing of its kind in Ciradyl, where music¡¯s primary purpose was to worship the Divine Goddess or praise the royal family.

    The assistant ushered back the spectators, clearing a circle. The performer took her place in the center, beginning to juggle the rings effortlessly.

    ¡°I could do that,¡± Carn joked, attempting to imitate her movements. Ember smiled slightly, grateful that the three friends had been able to meet up alone. Though she was fond of the others¡ªeven Charlie, though it would be more accurate to say that she was happy for Carn¡ªhanging out with just the fox and Naz was reminiscent of her first explorative months in Mendel.

    ¡°Come on, come on!¡± the performer encouraged, and a couple of Mendelians joined her in dancing to the music. A Linnaean mother stepped into the circle with her small child perched on her shoulders and executed a spin. The child threw his hands up with joy, laughing gleefully. Even Ember moved a little to the music, recalling the dance she had learned on the day of the Division One final.

    After a few minutes, the assistant instructed the crowd to back up. The band started a new song, this one with a more urgent melody. The performer¡¯s routine increased in difficulty, with her sending the rings flying above her head and catching them in strange positions: behind her back, under her leg, and with her toes.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± she asked, waiting for the crowd to cheer. ¡°Too easy?¡±

    Feigning a grave look, she caught the rings and offered them to her assistant. The woman uncapped a vial, dousing them in yellow liquid. Then, she struck a match and held it to the metal, igniting a blaze that bathed the rings in orange fire.

    The crowd gasped as the performer resumed her juggling, this time more quickly. She threw the rings high into the air, executing flips and somersaults beneath them. They spun over her limbs, the tendrils of flame kissing her skin but never stopping long enough to burn. She leaped and twisted, engulfed by endless exclamations of wonder, and a circle of frost melted around her.

    Ember watched, hypnotized, as the rings flew over each other, suffusing the sky in flame. She could sense Carn and Naz on either side of her, similarly enraptured, and their presence put her mind at ease. She inhaled deeply, her chest swelling with the music. For only a moment, she was feather-light, and there was no anxiety, only bliss.

 45: Masquerade

    Ember huddled close to her friends, tightening her fur jacket in an attempt to stop shivering. With the privilege of watching the beautiful sunset had also come the deepening of the cold, which tightened around her heart like a vice. Beneath the jacket, she wore the shimmering gold jumpsuit-dress. It hugged her comfortably, its golden flecks catching the light of the flickering torches.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Morgan said, tugging her behind Sebastian to offer some protection from the wind. The couple had joined Jisu, Carn, Charlie, Naz, and Ember for the ball that marked the final night of the festival.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be long now,¡± Naz said, her eyes sparkling behind her mask. Ember could feel that she was right¡ªthe atmosphere in the air was charged with anticipation. Most of the Mendelians had spent the day preparing their ensembles for the ball, which was hosted on the actual day of the solstice, the first official night of winter.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go up,¡± Jisu urged. When the group agreed, she hiked up her hem, starting up the pathway into the trees. She was dressed especially sharply in a tight black dress with a slit that showed her upper thigh. Ember followed slowly behind, encumbered by her heavy jacket and lamenting the fact that, unlike the cat and the fox, she had not grown a thick fur coat for the season.

    As she climbed, Ember looked down upon the crowd. It seemed that almost all of Mendel¡ªsave the very young and old¡ªhad gathered on Main Street. Mendelians were dispersed on every available surface, balanced on even the most precarious of perches. Only the main trail had been left unoccupied, allowing still more to arrive from afar.

    Since the ball was considered a momentous occasion, the citizens had assembled their outfits as if writing a love letter to Mendel. Each person wore an elaborate mask, some encrusted with gems, scales, or feathers. The clothes themselves were a labor of many weeks, fashioned from dyed silks or wool. They were complimented by the jewelry: beetles¡¯ wings dangled from ears, pieces of silver wrapped around wrists, and dew-drop-shaped gems lined necks.

    Ember lagged further behind, stopping to admire the most dazzling displays. One Linnaean whose source species was a deer had painted his antlers gold, while his partner wore a cloak made only of fallen leaves. Though not all of the Linnaeans¡¯ mutations were inherently appealing, combined with their unique manner of expression the overall effect was that of living, breathing art.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Jisu called, and Ember stopped her people-watching in order to catch up with her friends. The group had gathered atop a large burl, which formed a natural platform about forty feet from the ground.

    Without as many bodies blocking the wind, Ember quickly succumbed to shivering, and Morgan threw her cloak over them both. Naz launched into a lecture about dressing more appropriately, and Ember was saved only when Jisu revealed that she had filled her sizable flask with berry wine. It was passed around eagerly as they waited, determined to let the steaming liquid warm their bellies before it, too, surrendered to the cold.

    After a few droughts, a pleasant haze dulled the edges of the harsh weather. Ember turned her face upward, looking through the canopy. A cloud drifted north, revealing the stars, pinpricks of light whose brightness was startling against the velvety blackness.

    ¡°Look,¡± Charlie said softly, pointing below.

    Ember returned from her stupor, combing through the crowd. ¡°What do you see?¡±

    ¡°There,¡± Naz whispered, guiding her hand. Ember looked down to see a Linnaean materialize on the branch below them, poised in a crouch that was more animal than human. ¡°The recluses are coming.¡±

    One by one, they appeared to Ember like phantoms¡ªcreatures that took shape amongst the crowd, sometimes upright and other times on four legs. Unlike the others, they wore no masks, displaying faces that were entirely animalistic. She had heard about them not long after her arrival in Mendel: they were Linnaeans who had chosen to live as animals rather than as humans, now making a rare emergence from their homes outside the city walls. Each one was shadowed by a less developed Linnaean, presumably in case they were to succumb to instinct.

    All at once, the sound of drumming came from the ground below. It traveled through the trees, shaking freezing droplets of dew onto the onlookers. The crowd grew silent, looking toward the entrance to Main Street. Two shapes were making their way down the path in the distance, lit only by the stars and the torchlight.

    As they drew closer, Ember realized that they were two Linnaean males, riding side-by-side on imposing mounts. On the right was Corax, perched atop a tall elk and wearing a long black cloak that fell below his ankles. Next to him, a larger, mustached Linnaean rode a bear the color of snow.

    ¡°Who is that?¡± Ember breathed.

    ¡°Mayor Richardson,¡± Naz replied. ¡°He¡¯s technically the city¡¯s head, though everyone knows it¡¯s Corax who has the power.¡±

    Ember nodded, recognizing the name. Before she could say anything further, however, a sound rose over the drums, a haunting melody that oscillated as gently as the breeze. She glanced around, but the sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, and she gave up trying to pin it down amid the crowd and the dark.

    The two leaders stopped and turned at the end of the trail, sitting perfectly still atop their mounts. At the same time, the music was joined by a chorus of voices that wove a mournful song in a language unknown to Ember. All along the path, masked Linnaeans emerged from the crowd. Some wore strange costumes fashioned entirely from feathers, fur, or scales, while others were clothed in fabrics made from flowers or leaves.

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    Even in their strides, the Linnaeans were one with the music. They moved fluidly, their movements seemingly random at first. But as the song grew darker, a scene began to play out. They assumed a series of contorted poses, their fingers grasping at the sky in anguish.

    Ember leaned forward, an ache blossoming in her chest. The scene was confusing in its novelty but equally captivating.

    Slowly, the beat of the music changed, and the drums sounded at a frantic cadence. The performers hunched their shoulders, their heads bowed as they fled. They took refuge in small groups, their backs together as they attempted to ward away their invisible attackers. The scene reminded Ember so vividly of her kidnapping that it suddenly seemed less a performance and more a memory.

    The dancer¡¯s mutations made the production even more immersive. They could spring higher, spin faster, or otherwise surpass the physicality of normal humans, and they used their abilities to tell a story of desperation. Some fell to the unseen enemies and lay still on the trail while their companions carried on.

    Mercifully, the grating song gave way to a calm, lovely tune, and the performers¡¯ bodies slumped with relief. Ember recognized the chorus from the first day of the festival, and suddenly she understood¡ªthey¡¯re acting out the persecution of the Linnaeans and the founding of Mendel.

    The production continued, illustrating the periods of development that the city had undergone in the last one hundred years. The performers took on the role of medics, engineers, and scientists, writing formulas on invisible blackboards and healing imaginary wounds. Their movements were light and airy, narrating a story of discovery and acceptance. Whether from the song, the dance, the chill, or the wine, Ember found herself slipping into a hypnotic state.

    The curious, lighthearted music gradually became more boisterous when the timeline reached the present, the city¡¯s golden age. As the music hit the peak of its crescendo, a sound like the ringing of a bell played three times. It roused the mayor on his mount, and he raised his arm and gestured animately.

    ¡°It begins,¡± Carn murmured.

    Ember stirred, re-orientating herself. In Ciradyl, she had found such presentations insipid, but this had affected her in a way she did not yet understand. The onlookers responded alike, many crossing their right fists over their hearts in a salute to Mendel, sinking to their knees, or shedding quiet tears. Ember realized that for them, the performance was a cathartic, transcendental tribute to the sacrifices of their ancestors.

    After a moment, an elegant, rich song began to play. Taking the cue, the Mendelians stepped onto the trail, merging with the performers. As they grasped each other¡¯s hands, their exquisite ensembles coalesced into a mosaic of brilliant hues.

    Naz and Jisu stood close to Ember¡¯s side as they watched the scene transform, passing the flask wordlessly between them. Carn gave a small wave as he tugged Charlie down the path, disappearing into the crowd below. Without moving from the platform, Morgan placed her hands on Sebastian''s shoulders, swaying slowly to the beat. Everywhere, Linnaeans were dancing: in the street itself, atop the highest branches, beneath the gargantuan roots, and behind curtains of vines.

    ¡°This way,¡± Naz said, grabbing Ember and Jisu¡¯s hands and guiding them down the path despite their protests. ¡°It¡¯s easy to get lost!¡±

    On the ground beneath the trees, they were enveloped by Linnaeans. Though the dancers were dignified, their sheer number made it difficult not to be swept away. They wove between each other, some with partners and others alone, impossible to distinguish behind the costumes and masks.

    At first, nervousness held Ember in place with her back against the trunk of a redwood. Naz coaxed her forward, showing her how despite the close proximity, the dancers respected each other¡¯s personal space.

    Together, the three women formed their own little bubble in the ocean of Linnaeans. Ember loosened up, moving gently to the music. Slowly, she activated her infrared vision, allowing her awareness to broaden past her friends. At first, the input was too much, and she scrunched her eyes shut to focus. There was something simultaneously unsettling and bewitching about being surrounded by thousands of bodies, their individual heat signatures forming a brightly-colored mass that pulsed with life, like a single, giant organism.

    Once Ember had surveyed the area, she turned her attention to the music. The song, led by violins, was rich and regal. It drew her closer, persuading her to let the wine reach her head.

    From that moment, she was lost to the celebration as one might be pulled underwater. She was passed between her two friends, roped into one dance after another. Her laugh, made louder by the wine, at times felt as though it was drifting outside her body. The other Linnaeans swirled around her, forming a mesmerizing, impenetrable wall, and clouds passed overhead, shedding a flurry of snowflakes that kissed the dancers¡¯ skin.

    As the night deepened, Naz slipped away, expressing her intent to find a partner with which to spend the remainder of the night. Ember was left with Jisu, who stayed by her side even when the crowd shifted. Though the two preferred to dance together, they split up occasionally for a quick waltz with a spotted acquaintance. Once, Naz spun past in the arms of a young and muscular Linnaean male, winking through the mask at Ember.

    Later, when the moon moved from behind a cloud, Ember caught a glimpse of Linnaean musicians perched high in the tree canopy, their silhouettes framed by the far-away light as they raised their instruments to begin another song. Below them, Mendelians moved like spirits in the flickering torchlight, dancing across branches as easily as if they were floating in midair. Time became distorted, intermittently sprinting and crawling according to its unknowable will.

    ¡°Hey!¡± someone said, grabbing Ember¡¯s shoulder and yanking her, unceremoniously, from her dance with Jisu.

    The panther shook herself like a wet cat, her ears flattening against her skull. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Ember looked down to see Naz, whose mask was askew, revealing a face that was flushed with exertion. ¡°Naz? Where¡¯s that fellow you were dancing with?¡±

    ¡°Never mind that,¡± the pisces said breathlessly, ¡°I overheard that there¡¯s going to be a delivery tonight!¡±

    ¡°A delivery?¡±

    ¡°A Linnaean is coming from the mainland! If we go now, we can make it!¡±

 46: Stirrings of Unrest

    The next half hour was presented to Ember in a series of snapshots: Naz pulling her through the dancers, Jisu close behind; riding on the back of a thoroughbred horse, with the masquerade at their backs; the first wooden buildings marking the outer edge of the city; and finally, the wall of massive trees surrounding the northern boundary of Mendel. It was that inimitable sight that erased the last traces of fog from Ember¡¯s head.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Naz said, suddenly serious. The three swung down from their mounts, stepping off the trail and into the brush. The pisces grasped a rope ladder, beginning to haul herself into the trees.

    Ember focused only on her hands and feet as they ascended, letting instinct guide her. As she fought to regain her mental clarity, she felt a pang of regret that she had let herself be swept so completely into the wildness of the festival.

    When they had climbed sufficiently high, Naz led them horizontally through the trees with the help of the rope bridges. She stopped at the crux of a large branch, resting with her back against the trunk. They were only a few yards away from the wall, which Ember saw closely for the first time: rather than solid wood, as she had assumed, the branches had been shaped so that they wove through each other like the fibers of a basket.

    Jisu and Ember found crevices with which to anchor themselves where it was possible to view the road outside the wall through gaps in the branches. It was well-lit by torchlight, and from her perch, Ember could make out the almost perfectly concealed hinges of the great gates. They were not alone in their spying; many other Linnaeans had gathered in the trees or on the ground, though all but a few remained out of sight.

    Flanked by a small number of horned guards, a figure stood in the center of the trail outside of the walls: Corax, who appeared alert and composed despite his role in the opening of the festival. Other than the season, the scene eerily mirrored that of her own arrival to Mendel.

    I suppose it¡¯s fitting to watch a delivery on the night that celebrates the city, Ember thought, but her uneasiness remained, and she was glad to be inside the walls rather than outside.

    On the path ahead, an armored horse-drawn carriage emerged from the shadow of the leviathan trees. ¡°Woah!¡± the driver called, his voice grating against the anticipatory silence. A howl sounded in the distance, and the horse neighed, rearing up in terror. The driver cracked his whip, fighting to control the animal, and Ember grimaced at its cries. Neither the spectators, the Linnaeans guards, nor Corax moved as the two struggled against each other. In the background, the festival music could be heard faintly.

    Finally, the driver forced the horse into submission. ¡°You may go no further,¡± Corax said, his voice calm yet characteristically coarse. ¡°Show yourselves!¡±

    The door to the carriage swung open. Ember felt her heartbeat in her throat, thumping inexplicably urgently, and Jisu stiffened in her crouched position. In an attempt to calm herself, Ember recalled that in her own delivery, Corax had not opened the gates until the humans turned back for the mainland.

    A pair of heavy boots were the first to touch the ground, followed by the dainty slippers of a little girl. On the far side of the carriage, the guard pulled the child close to him by means of a large hand at her nape. He wore a uniform that Ember did not recognize, one that she presumed belonged to one of the states north of Draycott and Ciradyl.

    Ember rose on her haunches for a better view. The guard was holding the girl too tightly, and she had to rise onto her tiptoes to avoid being choked. She quivered beneath his touch, as terrified as a baby mouse trapped beneath a predator¡¯s claw.

    A surge of white-hot rage surged through Ember¡¯s body, forcing her to shift her position from discomfort. Upon seeing the man, the pain of being ripped from her home and treated like scum, which had dulled somewhat over time, returned forcibly. The capped fangs extended, digging into her lip and drawing pinpricks of blood.

    ¡°Give her to me,¡± Corax coaxed, still at least one-hundred-fifty feet away as he stretched out a feathered hand. ¡°Give her to me, and you can return to whence you came.¡±

    For a moment, it seemed as if the guard was indeed going to release the girl. Instead, however, a hand went to his hip, whipping a knife from its sheath and holding it to her throat. She whimpered, her eyes closing as she fought to keep her neck above the blade.

    Ember shifted, irate, while Jisu released a low growl. ¡°Oh, no,¡± Naz said, horrified. There was rustling from both sides of the wall as the other Linnaeans reacted alike, and the human¡¯s head snapped up in response. Corax held up a hand, silently signaling for no one to move. He stepped forward, maintaining a neutral expression, though Ember could sense his fury.

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    The guard¡¯s pupils darted back and forth, showing the whites of his eyes. ¡°Stay back!¡± he shouted, ¡°if you or any of your freaks come any closer, I¡¯ll kill her!¡±

    Corax held up his hands. ¡°I am just a bird, such that you might roast on a spit. I can do you no harm. What is the meaning of this?¡±

    The front door of the carriage swung open. Gently, as though on an afternoon stroll, another man stepped to the ground below. He was clothed in white down to his boots, and an all too familiar pendant dangled from his neck: a set of silver wings, the symbol of Ciradyl¡¯s church.

    Ember reacted viscerally. Why is one of Ciradyl¡¯s priests accompanying a carriage from the north?

    ¡°Do you know who I am, Crow?¡± the priest asked smoothly, his voice as sickly sweet as overripe fruit.

    Corax looked unimpressed. ¡°I cannot say I know you personally, but I assume you¡¯re a representative of Ciradyl¡¯s Holy Order.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct,¡± the priest replied. ¡°It is my sacred duty to uphold the will of the Divine Goddess, hence my being here. The time has come for a re-negotiation of the treaty.¡±

    A low murmur came from the hidden spectators, and Corax lowered his chin. ¡°A re-negotiation? On what grounds?¡±

    ¡°The Cursed Forest is spreading to the north, encroaching on our territory. Already, valuable land has been lost. Thus, we require reparations in the form of gold and animals. Most importantly, it is imperative that a party of representatives be let inside your city, to verify that you are obeying the will of the Goddess.¡±

    Ember stared at him, speechless. Our territory? Since when have the city-states joined in negotiation?

    Jisu snorted under her breath, reacting to the last demand. It, undoubtedly, was the most ridiculous¡ªthe sanctity of Mendel was the Linnaeans¡¯ greatest asset.

    ¡°We can talk as civil beings,¡± Corax said. ¡°Release the child, and I will discuss your demands with you and the other states¡¯ leaders.¡±

    ¡°Shut your mouth, beast!¡± the guard exclaimed, tightening his grip on the blade. Corax stepped forward, his face darkening.

    ¡°Calm, now,¡± the priest said, his fingers brushing the guard on the arm. As he turned, his robes shifted, revealing the barrel of a long metal weapon tucked against his side.

    Ember recoiled, questioning her eyes. ¡°Is that a shotgun?¡± she breathed, recognizing it only from the stories she had heard from her father¡ªstories that had, invariably, ended in death. The weapon, which required scarce resources and great skill to make, was wielded only by officials of the highest rank.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not become overexcited,¡± the priest said. ¡°Come here, crow, and we will talk.¡±

    ¡°So be it,¡± Corax said, stepping forward.

    No! Ember wanted to scream. Despite his collected demeanor, the way the priest¡¯s hand hovered inside his robes foretold only disaster.

    Almost imperceptibly, Corax¡¯s left hand moved behind his back. Quickly, but without any other indication, it clenched into a fist.

    A shadow dropped from the top of the wall, landing in front of the headmaster. It was pale in the darkness, and Ember only registered its blob-like structure before it shot a series of projectiles in quick succession.

    The darts, which were shaped like short arrows, thunked into the flesh of the priest and the guard with pinpoint accuracy. Two impaled themselves in the priests¡¯ eyes, spurting blood. He screamed horribly, clawing at his face and fumbling uselessly for the gun.

    As if warding off a demon, the guard slashed wildly with his knife. A second set of projectiles caught him squarely in the hand and the throat, jerking his body upward like a puppet on strings.

    Linnaeans flooded from the branches, converging upon the carriage. The priest, the guard, and the driver were violently pinned against the forest floor, their feeble attempts at fighting back easily deflected. The girl was tucked beneath the arm of an avian and swept into the safety of the treeline.

    With a fearsome expression, Corax approached the bleeding men. Ignoring the driver and the priest, he crouched beside the guard, speaking to him below earshot. The man attempted a curse, but the words were garbled by his torn-open throat, from which dark blood bubbled into the dirt below.

    ¡°Pathetic creature,¡± the headmaster growled, driving his talons through the man¡¯s chest. The guard sputtered, convulsing violently. Corax turned his back, wiping his hands on his cape. He raised his arm, and the gates swung open with a whoosh. ¡°Bring the others and bind their wounds,¡± he directed, ¡°they will be useful to us.¡±

    Ember¡¯s stomach turned as she watched the procession, and she covered her mouth to keep from being sick. Although Ciradyl¡¯s Holy Order ruled in conjunction with its monarchy, its church was a minority in the other city-states; in fact, even Ember¡¯s hometown had worshipped the elemental gods. Something had to be amiss for one of Ciradyl¡¯s priests to join another state¡¯s delivery.

    A wave of primal fear seized Ember. If Ciradyl¡¯s church was moving against the Linnaeans, her father would be at risk. She clenched her hands, oblivious to the rough bark gauging her palms. I can wait no longer to challenge the harpy eagle. I must contact him, no matter what.

 47: Final Preparations

    Ember raised her fist, rapping on the door twice. An annoyed huff came from inside, and a moment later, Marcus opened the door, dressed in grey loungewear and a heavy wool robe. He folded his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. ¡°What are you doing here? You look like hell.¡±

    Ember scowled. In the last four days, she had pushed her body to its limit. Other than the stiffness that constricted her every movement, her right eye was a comprehensive display of the various shades of purple. Today, of all days, she was not in the mood for his faux bravado.

    She brushed past the python, ignoring his half-hearted protests. Inside, his room was small but tidy, with a mattress, a bookshelf, and a desk tucked against the walls. A candle was lit at the desk, illuminating an open tome. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a reader,¡± Ember commented.

    Marcus shrugged, watching her from the doorway. ¡°There¡¯s not much else to do this time of year. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still around.¡±

    ¡°I have nowhere else to go,¡± Ember pointed out.

    ¡°Why not join your friend in the city?¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyebrows knit together. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°The fish sent a message for you yesterday, but you were out. She said she¡¯s going home to her father.¡±

    Ember folded her arms over her chest. ¡°Why would you take my message?¡±

    When Marcus shot her a skeptical look, Ember brought a hand to her forehead, rolling her eyes. She had forgotten that he was the acting prefect in Elliot¡¯s absence¡ªnot that it mattered since nearly all of the university students had gone to stay in the city proper after the news had broke of the hostage situation.

    The python stepped away from the doorway, taking a seat in his desk chair. ¡°It¡¯s too bad the fox didn¡¯t come by,¡± he commented. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think he likes me.¡±

    Ignoring his quip, Ember sighed, sitting on the edge of his mattress to relieve her aching legs. Without the heater running, the unpleasant cold seeped through the wooden panels, making her feel as though she were moving through molasses. She felt a pang of guilt for neglecting her friends; in the four days since the festival, she had been completely consumed by preparing for the challenge, and she was too close to her breaking point to handle Naz¡¯s objections.

    ¡°Are you trying to kill yourself?¡± Marcus asked derisively. From the way his pupils were unfocused, Ember could tell that he was dissecting her with his infrared vision, where he would be able to see how hard she had been pushing her body.

    ¡°No, just training.¡±

    ¡°For what? There are no tournaments this time of year.¡±

    Ember paused. ¡°I¡¯m going to challenge a ranker,¡± she said reluctantly.

    Marcus tilted his head ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I have no other choice.¡± She looked away, a bitter taste in her mouth. In the end, the mayor had tentatively declared the hostage situation an isolated incident, citing the small number of humans involved and the lack of repercussions for their deaths. To Ember, his opinion was irrelevant; between what she herself had witnessed and Corax¡¯s public silence, she strongly suspected that something was stirring on the mainland.

    Marcus sat up, looking at her more closely. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡±

    Ember nodded. ¡°I need your help.¡± She reached into her bag, pulling out a scroll on which she had drawn a diagram of the human body. She stood up, laying it down on the desk in front of him. The image was marked with colored ink, detailing patterns that she had noticed during her training, and her hypotheses were scribbled in the margins. She was tantalizingly close to becoming proficient with her infrared vision, yet a few inconsistencies were holding her back.

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    ¡°Here,¡± she said, pointing to a splotch of red around one knee. She had seen the pattern appear after an intermediate fighter was injured in a spar. ¡°Do you know what this means?¡±

    Marcus leaned forward, and Ember was surprised that he actually seemed to be examining the diagram. ¡°Is this marking true to size?¡± When Ember nodded, he brought a hand to his chin. ¡°Well, the most important thing is that one knee appears red, while the other is green. That indicates a large difference in surface temperature¡­¡±

    He reached up, unfolding a pair of spectacles and placing them on his nose. A rogue giggle nearly escaped Ember¡¯s throat, but she masked it with a cough as he continued. ¡°The red area is certainly warmer, which suggests that it¡¯s inflamed. I¡¯d guess a fresh injury to the anterior cruciate ligament. If this was my opponent, I¡¯d target the knee with a cutting kick or reaping.¡±

    Ember listened carefully, noting how, as before, he had shed his sarcasm in order to properly advise her. In the soft candlelight, his appearance mirrored hers¡ªhis face angular and sharp; his skin covered in brown and black scales; and his body more muscle than fat. For the first time, she thought that although he was hardened, he wasn¡¯t bad-looking.

    Over the next thirty minutes, the snakes dissected Ember¡¯s notes. She pointed to each area on the diagram, each time receiving detailed answers that usually confirmed her theories but occasionally contradicted them.

    ¡°Is that everything?¡± Marcus asked.

    Ember looked up as though waking up from a dream. Inside her chest, her heart thumped with the excitement of discovery, and she had the sense that she had crossed a major hurdle.

    ¡°Yes. Thank you,¡± she said, collecting the scroll and tucking it into her bag.

    He placed his glasses back on the desk, and his face assumed a grim expression. ¡°You must know that none of this will matter against a ranker. Whatever growth you¡¯ve done is not enough.¡±

    Ember passed a hand over her face, knowing frustration would yield no benefit. ¡°I¡¯m still going to try.¡±

    She took a step, intending to take her leave, when she felt Marcus¡¯s firm grip around her forearm. ¡°Ember, be careful. You could be seriously hurt.¡±

    Ember looked down at him, her eyes softening. ¡°No promises, but thank you for caring.¡±

    ***

    Ember held the melting stick of wax between her thumb and forefinger, waiting as it dripped onto the small scroll. Then, she pressed her metal stamp into the steaming pile, leaving behind the university¡¯s seal.

    She lifted the scroll, weighing it in her hand. It was surprisingly light considering it bore such a pivotal message: her official challenge to the harpy eagle. It had taken a half-dozen attempts to compose, but in the end, she had decided not to mince words.

    Greetings, it read, My name is Ember Whitlock, and I challenge you to an informal battle for your sister¡¯s services. Please contact me at your earliest convenience, as this is a matter of utmost importance.

    She turned to her left, where a hefty tome was lying open on the desk. She had lugged it from the library that morning, promising to have it back within the day. Inside was a list of every ranker, including their rank, species, and mailing address. Previous borrowers had scribbled notes next to the names, crossing them off if the ranker had retired. Thanks to them, Ember now knew that the harpy eagle¡¯s name was Freya Anderson, and she was ranked 325th, within the bottom one hundred rankers. Even so, after seeing the spectacular fight between Roland and Amina (who had been ranked substantially lower), Ember knew she posed a significant challenge.

    After marking the outside of the scroll with Freya¡¯s address, Ember wrote a second message. This one, which she addressed to Naz, was much more informal but no less succinct. In no uncertain terms, she apologized for her silence and explained what she intended to do. After a moment of consideration, she added a short conclusion:

    Thank you for understanding,

    Your friend,

    Ember Whitlock.

    Waiting on the windowsill was a messenger bird that Ember had commissioned from the aviary. It was small and blackish, and it had puffed itself up to twice its normal size in order to combat the cold. It hopped away as she approached, but she managed to coax it to stay still with the promise of a cherry.

    As it nibbled her offering, the bird allowed her to attach the scroll and the note to its leg by means of a piece of twine. It chirped at her once before taking flight, destined for the mail distribution center in the city proper. Ember watched it circle overhead, its feathers flashing purple as it turned in the winter sun.

    She sighed, relieved to have finished her preparations. Now, all that remained was the harpy eagle¡¯s response. Ember felt fairly confident that Freya would accept: since few people knew about her sister¡¯s abilities, the ranker would want to meet her challenger, and Orthus had implied that he would put in a good word. Though the thought of being in the information dealer¡¯s debt made Ember uncomfortable, she was unwilling to wait for a better opportunity when her father¡¯s life was on the line.

    ¡°Godspeed,¡± she said, shutting the window.

 48: Pre-Game Jitters

    Ember stomped the ice from her boots, looking up at the ranked complex. The sun had only just peeked over the horizon, bringing little warmth, and the massive buildings were buried like sleeping giants under blankets of snow. The complex, which was usually bursting with life, was in a state of near-abandon with the Linnaeans¡¯ flight to the city proper.

    Far in the distance, a trio of rankers emerged from behind a structure, jogging with weighted packs. Ember watched their progress across the landscape as if through someone else¡¯s eyes, her mind muddled by anxiety over the upcoming match.

    With a shake of her head, Ember forced herself to move. She pulled her timepiece from her belt, confirming that she was over thirty minutes early. A familiar wave of adrenaline caused the hair on her arms to stand on end, and queasiness bloomed within her stomach. Hoping to calm her nerves, she took a sip from her canteen and used her teeth to tear off a chunk of beef jerky.

    She stagnated, chewing absentmindedly until she was reminded of the mind-numbing cold. She had opted to wear her training uniform and cloak, which were unmatched for comfort and range of motion but insufficient protection for the depths of winter. Knowing that lingering too long would stiffen her muscles and increase her risk of injury, she started down the path again.

    With a gloved hand, Ember unfolded a scrap of paper from her pocket. The harpy eagle¡¯s letter of acceptance had been blunt: Meet me at Building 3 of the Ranked Complex on December 25, 9:00 AM. Ember had worn the paper almost to shreds, over-analyzing the choppy, uneven handwriting until her eyes grew sore.

    Though she had spotted the building from the hill, with all of the landmarks buried beneath the snow, Ember was soon swallowed by the complex. The scene was surreal in the winter stillness, an untouched pocket of time that threatened to lull her into complacency. It wasn¡¯t until she caught a glimpse of the familiar domed building (the training grounds of the intermediate class) that she was able to re-orientate herself and locate Building 3.

    The structure was a high-ceilinged concrete rectangle, industrial in appearance except for the frost-resistant vines that crawled their way up its sides. Ember took a steadying breath before pulling open the door, letting herself inside with ten minutes to spare.

    Luckily, the interior was noticeably warmer. Like in the domed building, scaffolding climbed the walls and ceiling, allowing trainers to look down upon the fighters. Other than a first-aid station, the floor was completely devoid of equipment, leaving an area 60 yards long and 20 yards wide in which to spar. The majority of the floor was covered by a thin layer of spongy mats, many of which had been stained by droplets of blood.

    ¡°Over here,¡± a voice echoed, and Ember turned around to see two avians resting against the opposite wall. A lump formed in her throat, but she drew closer, raising her hand in greeting. ¡°Good morning. Thank you for accepting my challenge.¡±

    The two sisters looked back at her, tilting their heads in unison. Although both avians, they differed largely in appearance, almost to the point of representing dual caricatures. Freya, the older sister and ranker, stood with her feet hip-width apart. She was broad-shouldered and muscular, with heavy, dark wings and a serious countenance. On the lowest level of scaffolding, the younger sister sat with her feet dangling over the edge. From a distance, she could have been mistaken for a child: short and slight, with beautiful white wings that rested softly behind her. On her lap perched a white dove, who she petted gently upon the head.

    ¡°I¡¯m Kora, and this is my sister, Freya,¡± the younger sister said. ¡°What is-¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± the older sister said, raising an eyebrow. She pointed at Ember¡¯s arm, noticing that her uniform lacked any bands or badges. ¡°You¡¯re in the intermediate class, and you haven¡¯t even passed the first level?¡±

    Ember felt a bolt of dread. ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°What a waste of time,¡± Freya scoffed incredulously. ¡°I assumed that Orthus would not refer anyone below the advanced class to me, but it seems I was wrong. How disrespectful.¡± When she picked up her bag, Ember willed herself to say something, but she was rooted to the spot, fearing that it had all been for nothing.

    ¡°Sister, wait,¡± the dove said, resting her head on the palm of her hand as if observing something amusing. ¡°We¡¯ve come here already, why not hear her out.¡±

    The harpy eagle crossed her arms over her chest. ¡°You want me to kill her?¡±

    ¡°No, I recognize her name¡­ she¡¯s the one who fought the margay, and she¡¯s first in my class. I¡¯m curious, so let¡¯s listen to whatever she has to say.¡±

    The two looked at each other for a moment. Kora stuck out her bottom lip, and her eyes widened pitifully. ¡°Fine,¡± Freya conceded, rolling her eyes.

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    Ember stood up straighter, knowing that she had only one chance to convince them. ¡°Nearly five months ago,¡± she began, ¡°I was taken from Ciradyl against my will. Though my father wanted to join me, the officers lied to us, saying that he would not be allowed in Mendel. Despite my best efforts, I have not spoken with him since.¡±

    Both women remained silent, waiting for her to continue. ¡°In light of recent events, I fear that his life is in great jeopardy. I know the Holy Order well¡ªthey view us as monsters, and they won¡¯t hesitate to imprison him or threaten him to control me. In fact, that¡¯s the only reason I can fathom that they wouldn¡¯t let him come to Mendel.¡± Ember¡¯s voice cracked slightly, but she pushed forward. ¡°He is my only family and my last chance of finding out the truth about my mother¡¯s disappearance. At the very least, I want to know if he is still living at our old house and if he is in good health.¡±

    The two sisters glanced at each other, and something passed between them. ¡°Each one of us has a traumatic story,¡± Freya said. ¡°Regardless of how sympathetic we might be, it doesn¡¯t change the fact that you cannot best me in a fight. No win, no letter. That¡¯s how I protect my family.¡±

    ¡°Let me try,¡± Ember insisted. ¡°This is my only option, and I intend to see it through.¡±

    The harpy eagle sighed. ¡°Fine, but only to keep my word. It¡¯s your funeral.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember said, bowing her head from the sheer weight of her relief.

    ¡°Go warm up,¡± Freya ordered, waving her away.

    Ember obliged, taking a lap around the building¡¯s interior. Though she was constantly aware of the avians¡¯ presence, she willed herself to focus on each step: on the steady intake of breath and the flexing of the muscles just a moment before impact.

    With a faster heartbeat and a clearer mind, Ember stopped about ten yards away from the sisters. She stretched out her muscles one by one, testing them to make sure that they were warm. It was a vital process¡ªsince her mutations made it difficult to regulate her body temperature, it would be easy to tear a muscle and bring a fast end to the fight.

    As she stretched, Ember kept a close eye on Freya. She had picked the spot with the intention of gathering as much data as possible before the fight began, and she knew that the raptor would be similarly analyzing her.

    The ranker was sitting down, touching her toes while her sister stretched out her wings. Though her mutations were similar to Roland¡¯s, they were less polished, including malformations in her wings.  The rest of her skin, which was covered with grey feathers, had been struck through by unsightly pink scars.

    Ember¡¯s research on raptors had pointed out several weak points in their structure: the bones in their legs and wings, the eyes, as well as any skin unprotected by feathers. However, it was never a given that a Linnaean on the treatment would suffer the same weaknesses as their source animal.

    As she lay on her back, holding her knee toward her chest, Ember tilted her head toward Freya. With a feeling of trepidation, she activated her infrared vision, praying that she would find a useable weakness.

    The ranker¡¯s body came to life with swathes of color. As expected, her extremities¡ªwings, hands, feet, ears, and nose¡ªwere colder, while her chest and torso were warmer. Ember dug deeper, expanding and sharpening the image. Dozens of patterns appeared across the rippling figure, and she dissected each one, fighting to remain calm when some proved a fleeting trick of the light. She would lose her place if she wasn¡¯t methodical, and all of her time and effort would be wasted.

    When Freya stood, Ember had marked three areas for closer investigation: inflammation in the left shoulder, weakness where the wings connected to the body, and tissue damage along the right shin.

    ¡°Ready?¡± the ranker asked.

    Ember nodded, fighting to maintain a calm demeanor. She followed Freya to the middle of the floor, nervousness laying dormant in her chest like a slumbering beast. The two stopped about three yards apart, and Kora climbed onto the scaffolding directly above them.

    ¡°I won¡¯t patronize you by taking it easy, and I expect you to do the same,¡± the ranker directed. ¡°We¡¯ll follow the same rules as the tournaments: don¡¯t puncture the heart or throat, gouge the eyes, tear the limbs off, inject with a fatal dose of poison¡­ et cetera. Not that I think you¡¯ll be able to.¡±

    Ember agreed, still mostly focused on reading Freya¡¯s thermal footprint. Could that be a pulled muscle in the shoulder? Will it weaken her punch?

    ¡°Okay,¡± Kora said, crouching with her dove sitting on her shoulder. ¡°Good luck to you both. You may begin in three¡­¡±

    The door swung open, banging against the wall, and all three Linnaeans whipped toward the entrance. There, standing in a pile of snow with her arm outstretched, was Naz. By her side was not Carn¡ªas Ember may have expected¡ªbut Marcus, who had bundled himself in at least three layers of fur.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Freya asked, exasperated.

    ¡°Ember¡¯s friends,¡± Naz said, striding across the training floor. She shoved Ember on the shoulder, her teeth gritted. ¡°Are you trying to get yourself killed?¡¯

    Ember¡¯s face flushed, embarrassed. ¡°Both of you need to leave,¡± she hissed, ¡°this is a private-¡±

    ¡°Relax, we¡¯re not going to interfere,¡± Marcus said, pulling Naz back by her hood. ¡°I¡¯m the reptile dorm¡¯s acting prefect, and I¡¯m here to watch Ember, who is under my jurisdiction. No offense, but I could care less about either of you.¡±

    Freya looked uneasily at her sister, who shrugged, appearing somewhat entertained. ¡°Fine,¡± she sighed, jamming her thumb toward a corner of the building. ¡°Go sit over there. If you move during the fight, it will count as Ember¡¯s forfeit.¡±

    Marcus made a gesture of surrender, pulling Naz behind him as he crossed the training floor.

    ¡°Okay!¡± Kora said, clapping her hands together and startling the bird on her shoulder. ¡°Now, let¡¯s start in earnest. Three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ BEGIN!¡±

 49: The Dove & The Harpy Eagle

    As Kora was counting down, Ember was readying herself to fight. She rid her mind of thoughts of Naz and Marcus, who were watching her intently from the corner, and poured every ounce of focus onto the harpy eagle. She had never taken pleasure in causing injury to others, but she suspended her conscience, knowing that even a nanosecond of hesitation would lose her the match.

    At the moment before Kora¡¯s final signal, Ember¡¯s leg muscles contracted. Then, at the word ¡°Begin!¡± she sprang forward with explosive force.

    It was the fastest speed that she had ever achieved. The breath was ripped from her lips and the training mat split beneath the ball of her foot. She was on Freya in a millisecond. Force is weakest when it¡¯s dispersed, she repeated, remembering Jisu¡¯s words. Concentrate all of your speed and strength into a single point.

    She drew back her arm, directing her strike toward the left side of Freya¡¯s body. At the moment before impact, the ranker reacted instinctively. Her wings snapped open, lifting her a foot from the ground, and her left fist thrust out in a hook at Ember¡¯s head.

    Ember watched the punch as though in slow motion. Around her, the world was eerily silent. The hook, though quick, was made sloppy by the inflammation in the ranker¡¯s shoulder, allowing Ember to maneuver around it easily.

    She sprang upward, and with all of her momentum, she struck the base of Freya¡¯s left wing. The thin bones gave way beneath her fist with a crack.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± Freya cried out, shattering the illusion of silence. Her talons slashed wildly as she attempted to defend herself. Knowing that she could do no more without risking severe injury, Ember retreated, escaping with only a shallow slash on her cheekbone.

    The harpy eagle stared at Ember as if seeing her for the first time. She panted as she clutched her wing, which hung unnaturally by her side like the limb of a broken doll.

    ¡°Freya!¡± Kora shouted, descending a few rungs of scaffolding to reach her sister. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Ember felt a pang of guilt, tasting sourness on her tongue. The strike had landed only because Freya had underestimated her, making herself vulnerable to attack. The thought that she had inflicted serious pain onto someone who had not wronged her was sickening, and she thought for a moment that she might vomit.

    ¡°I will continue,¡± Freya said, her brow furrowing with determination. Hurriedly, she undid her hand wraps, using the material to bind the broken wing to her body. The unnatural position must have been terribly painful, but immobilizing the wing was the only way for her to maintain balance during the fight.

    The ranker looked up, fixing Ember in her dark gaze, and a sudden chill rose up through her chest. As the two circled each other, it was evident that Freya intended to take a more cautious approach.

    Ember attempted to calm her mind and generate a plan of action. Maximizing her speed for a single strike was unlikely to be successful now that Freya was on her guard, and she had spent a great deal of energy in the first effort. Her eyes slid over to the corner, where Naz was clutching her hair in panic and Marcus was watching expectantly.

    Abruptly, the ranker unfurled her right wing half-way, lowering her head and closing the distance between them. Even with her injury, she moved with all of the swiftness of a bird of prey.

    They clashed violently. Being close to the ranker was like trying to stand in the wall of a cyclone. Her uninjured wing beat down upon Ember, obstructing her vision and confusing her sense of direction. When her talons thrust out from the darkness, they were too swift to follow with the naked eye but powerful enough to throw Ember off-balance.

    Gradually, a heavy feeling began bearing down on Ember, as if an overwhelming pressure was crushing her from above. So this is what it feels like to face a ranker.

    As their head-to-head battle continued, it became clear that the ranker could maintain a higher level of speed, technique, and strength. Her powerful punches formed hematomas beneath Ember¡¯s skin, sapping her strength, and her talons left gouges that gushed blood.

    The raptor¡¯s hallmark was her agility. Her rapid footwork gave the impression that she was dancing above the floor, yet it laid the foundation for the devastating hits. When Ember attempted a counter-attack, aiming at the raptor¡¯s body, she would find only air, tricked by a shadow or a feint.

    My only chance is to take her to the ground, Ember realized. By nature, birds of prey had an erratic fighting style, preferring to strike once and retreat quickly. The ranker was strong, but her injured wing would prove a hindrance on the ground.

    Ember stilled, bringing her hands to her cheekbones. She managed to hold her position as Freya struck her in the shoulder with a hard blow and focused on the ranker¡¯s legs as she landed. Finally, for a split second, she could make out their outline clearly. Now!

    Ember dove downward, planting her knee and reaching for the ranker¡¯s thighs. If she could make contact, she would use her momentum to lift the raptor while driving her head into her hip, sending them both crashing to the ground.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Except the bird¡¯s keen eyes had predicted her motion. As Ember dove, the ranker¡¯s knee plowed through her outstretched arms and struck her in the chest.

    It was the hardest hit Ember had ever experienced, and she was thrown like a ragdoll onto her back. The wind was knocked from her lungs, her vision exploded with stars, and a high-pitched ringing invaded her eardrums. When she coughed, a sharp pain blossomed along her ribs. It was so powerful, so acute that it demanded to be felt, and she froze, clutching the spot.

    No. She forced her eyes upward, looking at Freya, who was watching her from a couple of yards away. Not yet. She planted her hand, fighting to pull her legs beneath her. Shakily, she stood, streams of blood running from her wounds and splattering on the training mats.

    ¡°You wish to continue?¡± Kora asked, and Ember nodded through the haze. For the second time, she found the thread of instinct within herself, fraying it and letting it dull her pain. Her infrared vision flared, and her half-grown fangs throbbed. When Ember looked at the ranker again, she appeared more raptor than human, a creature that would swoop in from above and blot out the sun. A primal fear, similar to when she faced Roland, clutched her heart in a vice.

    Freya attacked. Ember evaded quickly, avoiding being trapped within the ranker¡¯s zone of control. When she couldn¡¯t dodge, she blocked, and the force of the blows crashing together sent tremors through the building.

    The raptor attempted a roundhouse kick at Ember¡¯s head, and, instinctively, Ember changed direction on the spot, slipping beneath it. Her vision zeroed in on a white patch of skin¡ªthe crux between the ranker¡¯s neck and shoulder, glowing warm and red.

    Tapping into her last energy reserves, she struck, twisting in the air in order to orientate herself. She collided with the ranker¡¯s body, locating the glowing spot, and sank her teeth into the flesh. A muscle behind her eye¡ªpreviously unused¡ªpulsed, hard, and her fangs dug deeper.

    Freya let out a shout of pain, contracting her body and spinning with enough force to dislodge Ember. She clamped a hand over the wound, which was leaking blood, and looked at her opponent with wide eyes.

    Ember stumbled, hardly aware of her surroundings. I bit her, didn¡¯t I? She shook her head, trying to find herself again. But my fangs¡­ are capped.

    Ahead, Freya steadied herself. Then, she charged forward.

    It was a terrifying sight. The ranker sprang high into the air, opening her good wing to achieve greater height, her body tilted to compensate for the injury. She reached out, catching Ember in the chest with both back legs.

    The hit threw Ember backward onto the training mats, and Freya was upon her just as a raptor tears into prey. The sight of the dark, predator¡¯s eyes sent a bolt of cold fear into Ember¡¯s heart. Blood filled her mouth, and she wondered for a moment if she would die. And then, a heavy hit clocked her on the side of her head, sending her into the depths of unconsciousness.

    ***

    Ember awoke for the first time to the sound of voices. She blinked slowly, finding that one eye was swollen almost completely shut. The blurry faces of Freya, Marcus, and Naz were above her.

    ¡°...didn¡¯t have to¡­ so hard!¡± Naz shouted, most of her sentence lost to the fuzz in Ember¡¯s brain. She was waving her arms wildly, her face bright red with anger, screaming like a little dog might bark at a wolf. Marcus stood stoically behind her, his arms still crossed over his chest. It was so ridiculous that Ember¡¯s mouth formed the ghost of a sad smile before she faded into the darkness again.

    ***

    She became aware of herself once more while she was being carried high above the ground. It was terribly cold, but she was paralyzed, unable to do anything about it. Her head lulled to the side, resting against a shoulder. Behind the shoulder, Naz¡¯s tiny figure was struggling to walk through a deep snowdrift.

    ¡°Keep up,¡± a voice said¡ªMarcus¡¯s, coming like a low rumble from his chest, which was close to Ember¡¯s ear. ¡°Go back to sleep,¡± he ordered in a whisper, this time only for her to hear.

    Marcus is carrying me? She thought as she closed her eyes. How mortifying.

    ***

    The third time Ember awoke, she was lying in bed, and her thoughts were noticeably less scrambled. She opened her eyes, recognizing the dark, wooden boards of the infirmary¡¯s ceiling. Slowly, she sat up, cringing as her ribs, her head, and a dozen other places screamed in protest. She pulled back the blanket, looking at her body, which was a patchwork of bruises and bright-white bandages.

    In a nearby corner, Naz was curled up in an armchair, sleeping fitfully. Ember regarded her for a moment, remembering how the pisces had attempted to defend her. You¡¯re a good friend. I¡¯m sorry for worrying you.

    Marcus stepped quietly through the door, holding a glass of water. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± he said, coming to stand next to the bed. ¡°You¡¯ve caused me a lot of trouble.¡±

    Ember was grateful that it was he, and not one of her closest friends, who had seen her first. She could feel the weight of her loss laying dormant beneath the calm, threatening to send her into hysterics. He, a fighter, would understand without pitying her.

    She gripped the blanket. ¡°I failed.¡±

    The python shook his head. ¡°No.¡±

    Ember looked at him, questioning her ears. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°The dove agreed to help you. It says so in here.¡± He tossed a letter into her lap, and Ember tore it open with shaking hands. The handwriting on the page was flowy cursive, completely unlike Freya¡¯s.

    Ember, it read, Though you suffered a complete loss today, my sister and I were impressed by your fighting spirit. I also have interests in Ciradyl, and it would not be too much of an inconvenience for me to direct my birds to your father¡¯s house. Send me your letter as soon as you are well enough to write it. It should not be lengthy, and ensure that it does not contain any mention of Mendel should it fall into the wrong hands. Good luck.

    ¡°She¡¯s bullshitting you,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Had your fangs been uncapped and your venom developed, you would have won, and Freya would be dead. If word gets out that an intermediate fighter nearly defeated a ranker, she¡¯ll be considered an easy mark and inundated with new challengers. They want to ensure your silence to keep the peace and preserve her rank.¡±

    Ember nodded, too stunned to care that he had read her mail again. She reread the letter twice, and then, when the words had truly sunk in, she clutched the paper to her chest and sobbed.

 50: Spectator (Arc 2 & Volume 1 Finale)

    Ember lifted the ice pack from her ribs, wincing, and placed it on her desk. She had been taking a much-needed break from crafting the letter to her father, which was proving a difficult task: she had to be vague enough to avoid giving away Mendel¡¯s secrets, but specific enough for him to understand her meaning. The goal was that, unless someone had been trained in counter-intelligence, the letter would appear innocuous.

    She sighed, leaning over the paper again and beginning to murmur the words under her breath.

    Father,

    I pray that this letter finds you well. Much has changed since the night I moved away. The city to which I traveled is nothing like we were told¡ªit is an enchanting, surprising place, full of passionate and eccentric beings. There is connectedness here; the city breathes as a person might, and the residents have taken to me as both a student and as a friend. Despite what we were told, they are not hostile to other races.

    It is true that I am ill, but I am also in the best health of my life, and I have changed beyond the point of recognition. I have found my illness to be as much a gift as it is a curse, and it has allowed me to spend my days studying and training in athletics.

    But my reason for writing is not only to talk about myself. There is fear here that something is stirring in Ciradyl, led by the Holy Order. Have you heard such stirrings of unrest in the city? Are you safe? Can you move of your own volition, and if so, might an opening arise in which you can travel south?

    There is another matter that concerns me. Since my arrival, I have had strange dreams and visions of my mother that have sown doubt as to the manner of her disappearance. Is there anything about her that you have not yet told me?

    If you are able, write me back. I am desperate to hear from you.

    With love,

    your daughter.

    Ember tapped the quill to her mouth, thinking deeply. By omitting her own name, Mendel¡¯s name, and any mention of the affliction, she had ensured that the letter would be seen as nothing more than a routine correspondence from a daughter to her father should it be waylaid on its journey. She folded it neatly, touched it to her forehead with a prayer, sealed the envelope, and addressed it to the avian sisters¡¯ household.

    Then began the most painful wait of her life.

    ***

    Ember shifted, resting her chin on the metal bar and letting out a quiet huff. Even in her absurdly puffy fur coat¡ªwhich the doctor had ordered she wear to facilitate her healing¡ªthe scaffolding made a very uncomfortable seat. It didn¡¯t help that her ears were ringing from the sound of metal clanging against metal; on the training floor below, the intermediate class was practicing a drill with weapons. Meanwhile, Ember¡¯s own knife hung uselessly at her hip.

    It was the second class she had attended since her fight six days before, and she was once again relegated to the role of spectator. Since many Linnaeans were still staying in the city proper after the hostage situation, the class was less than half its usual size, and it pained her to miss the opportunity for individualized instruction. Although she was still learning by observation and practicing her infrared vision, without a physical outlet for her anxiety, awaiting news from Kora was causing great mental strain.

    ¡°Ten-minute break!¡± Ophelia yelled over the trainees. With the look of the undead, the pairs of students broke apart and stumbled toward their water flasks.

    ¡°Remember, we¡¯re only halfway through!¡± Roland added, shaking his head in disappointment. His eyes met Ember¡¯s, and she folded her arms over her chest. It was just her luck that the black hawk-eagle had been among those to return to campus, and though he hadn¡¯t said anything directly, his smug glances made it clear that he was glad to see her benched.

    ¡°Ember!¡± a voice called, and she looked away from Roland to see Lance staggering across the training grounds in her direction. He looked exhausted, and one side of his face was smeared with dried blood where he had caught the tip of a blunted blade.

    Ember smiled slightly, waving at the ermine. When she returned to the intermediate class after her fight with Freya, he was one of the first students to express his concern for her health. She appreciated the gesture, especially in Jisu¡¯s absence¡ªworryingly, the panther hadn¡¯t attended class since the night of the winter solstice, and Ember had no way of contacting her.

    As Lance approached, she clambered down stiffly from her seat. ¡°Happy new year,¡± he said, and they clasped forearms in a typical fighters¡¯ greeting. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    Ember winced. ¡°Not the best, honestly.¡± She held out her arms, emphasizing the fur coat. ¡°I feel ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you were attacked by a moose,¡± he added. ¡°Especially during this time of year.¡±

    ¡°I know, right?¡± Ember said, clearing her throat. ¡°Me neither.¡±

    There was an awkward lull in the conversation in which Lance looked at Ember expectantly, waiting for her to clarify the details of her story. Ember occupied herself by coughing, once again silently cursing Marcus, who had created the lie while she was unconscious.

    ¡°Did you see my spar?¡± Lance finally ventured. ¡°I may be agile, but my hits aren¡¯t powerful enough to cause any damage.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Try to be more strategic,¡± Ember suggested, grateful for the change of topic. ¡°Aim for your opponent¡¯s weak points, like their ears, nose, throat, jaw, and solar plexus. You can also target the same area with consecutive strikes, which will wear your opponent down.¡±

    Lance seemed to consider it. ¡°That¡¯s good advice. By the way, have you signed up for your courses yet?¡±

    ¡°No, not yet. I¡¯m planning to continue the biology and history sequences, and I still need to take trigonometry. But I don¡¯t have an elective.¡±

    Lance made a sympathetic face. ¡°Don¡¯t wait too long¡ªthe deadline is next Wednesday, and the office is going to be packed until then.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said, looking slightly ill. ¡°I¡¯m going to sit down. If you want, wait for me after class, and I might be able to recommend a few courses.¡±

    Ember thanked him, then climbed painfully back up to her position in the scaffolding. For the remainder of the class, she poured her focus into observing the other students¡¯ drills. The time passed quickly, and when Ophelia called the training to a close, she joined the other students at the center of the arena for the end-of-class ritual.

    As they sat in the butterfly position, breathing deeply, Ophelia cleared her throat. ¡°I wanted to share some exciting news with you all. I know it¡¯s late notice, but I¡¯ve just received approval to teach a new course for next semester, called Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain. My hope is to apply the more advanced techniques you¡¯ve learned to unconventional warfare: we¡¯ll practice ambushes, raids, and fighting in groups. So if you still have space on your schedule, please consider it.¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyebrows raised in surprise, and she exchanged a glance with Lance¡ªthe class sounded like just what she needed to take her skills to the next level.

    ***

    The first days of the new year passed slowly, and Ember was afflicted with a persistent melancholy. She slept much and ate little, spending most of her time huddled by the heater in an attempt to stay warm. She had no energy even for reading, and she left the dorm only to attend Ophelia¡¯s class and to have her sutures removed.

    Gradually, the students left their families in the city and returned to campus for the spring semester, which was scheduled to begin on the 11th of January. When there were no new developments, the panic surrounding the hostage incident dulled and then dissipated. At the two-week mark since the solstice, a sense of normality seemed to have returned to everyone but Ember.

    Once it was clear that Ember would recover fully, Naz had returned to the city with her father for the remainder of the break, and Carn had been staying with Charlie since the night of the solstice. Ember wrote to both of her friends, though she omitted the fight from her correspondence with the fox¡ªhe was the only other person she planned to tell, but she was waiting for his return to campus so as not to worry him unnecessarily. In her opinion, he needed the break to recover from the incident with the margay and the mad rush to avoid academic expulsion.

    It was on Monday morning that she received the long-awaited knock. She roused herself quickly, throwing the door open and nearly hitting Marcus in the face. ¡°Did my letter come?¡±

    He pointed downstairs. ¡°No. The dove came herself.¡±

    Ember hurried down the stairs, pausing only during a moment of light-headedness. Sure enough, a hooded figure waiting in the living room of the dorm. She glanced around; other than Marcus, there was one other reptile in the room: a lizard, who was quietly reading nearby. ¡°What¡¯s the news?¡±

    ¡°Where can we speak freely?¡± Kora asked in a whisper, glancing at the lizard.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Ember replied, guiding the dove upstairs and locking her bedroom door behind them. ¡°So?¡±

    Kora threw back her hood. Against the dark hardwood, she looked as misplaced as a fallen angel. She dug in her bag, emerging with a letter. Ember reached for it, but the dove withdrew her hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I need to make sure you understand the terms of our agreement. You are in my debt, and you¡¯ll make an enemy of me if you or your friends spread the word of the match.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Ember agreed, gripping the letter firmly. Had Kora refused to give it to her, she would have taken it by any means necessary.

    ¡°You were right,¡± the dove said. ¡°The house was being closely watched. My birds had to wait for the fog to roll in before it could be delivered.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember replied, her heart beating so quickly that she feared it might overwhelm her.

    Kora nodded once. ¡°For the record, I hope it¡¯s good news,¡± she said, replacing her hood and disappearing through the door.

    Ember tore open the letter, her hands shaking as she struck a match and lit a candle. She recognized her father¡¯s thick, uneven handwriting immediately. Though he had been raised on a farm and worked in the mines, he had received some education in his childhood, which was reflected by his good grammar.

    Daughter,

    You cannot imagine my relief upon receiving your letter. Not a day has passed without thinking of you, and many times I have regretted that we did not escape through the window on the night that you were taken. I also feared that you might have succumbed to your illness, though I am not surprised to learn that it was exaggerated.

    I assume that the small bird who delivered this letter was your friend, so I gave it bread and water. It was quite well-trained, and it waited with me until the cover of night. Perhaps this is commonplace in your city?

    It is understandable that you are curious about your mother, and I regret that I did not tell you more before it was too late. I thought that, the less I spoke of her, the less painful her disappearance would be.

    Many years ago, our parents arranged for us to be married in order to combine our farmlands, which were suffering from drought. Over the years, as often happens, we came to share a real love. But not long after your birth, she began to suffer from a chronic illness. She grew tired, ate little, and developed welts that festered like open wounds. She was often possessed by a cold sensation that could not be chased away even by fire. She became taciturn, and when she withdrew from me, I lost her forever.

    There was no warning of her disappearance. Her parents, who never held me in high regard, confirmed that she had left of her own accord, and my attempts to contact the authorities produced no results. It was her parents, not me, who arranged her funeral. It was an open casket, and there is no doubt that it was your mother inside. That day was unsettling. I saw men in attendance who I knew had no relation to either of us. But, for your safety, I questioned no further. That is all I know. If your grandparents still live, I wager that they could tell you more.

    Though I do not wish to worry you, I will be truthful¡ªthis house has been watched since the moment that you left. It was lucky that the bird managed to sneak inside during a moment of fog. It is strange that you talk of unrest. Indeed, I often listen to the guards with the window cracked, and they speak highly of a newly appointed bishop within the Holy Order. There have been stricter laws, too: we must worship thrice weekly now, on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and we must return home before the sun sets. Through all of this, the monarchy has been silent.

    I have burned your letter to ashes. I know it will be difficult, but I must ask something of you. I have lived a humble life, and you are my greatest accomplishment. If I die now, I will be content. Please, hold me only in your heart, and risk nothing else for me.

    With love,

    your father.

 51: Bishop Matthias

    It was a deeply unpleasant day in Ciradyl¡¯s throne room. Despite the high ceilings, the many-columned hall felt grim and oppressive. Cold drafts seeped through the palace at its seams, frosting over the window panes and pushing at the heavy velvet drapes. Though it was mid-afternoon, the sky was darkened by smog from the city¡¯s factories.

    Catherine shifted on her chair, which sat in the intersection of the long twin shadows cast by her parents¡¯ thrones. The furniture was grand¡ªadorned with solid gold and encrusted with gems¡ªbut singularly uncomfortable. She tilted her head up and to the side, a motion so slight it would go unnoticed by all but the most scrutinous eyes.

    Above her, her parents sat like statues, their faces deeply lined with age. Her father, who had once been a broad man, hunched over at a slight angle with his bottom lip ajar, his crown askew on his balding head. Her mom sat with her legs crossed under the heavy skirt of her dress, her bony collarbones protruding from the bodice.

    All three were as still as if posing for a portrait, though it would have been an imperfect one¡ªRosalind, Catherine¡¯s five-year-old half-sister, never attended family gatherings. She had been a product of the king and a handmaid before his health had failed, and she had never been debuted into the public eye for fear that the royal family¡¯s reputation would be furthered soiled. In fact, she didn¡¯t even live in Ciradyl, but in Draycott, an agricultural city-state to the south, with her governess.

    Catherine tapped the arm of her chair, and a servant quickly emerged from against the wall. He bowed low, presenting her with a crystal glass. ¡°Water, Your Majesty?¡±

    Catherine raised the glass to her lip, taking a small sip. She had picked at the skin of her lips in anticipation of today¡¯s meeting, and now her saliva tasted slightly of blood.

    A knock sounded at the entrance of the throne room. The king gave a nod, and the servants pulled open the grand doors. A tall, thin figure stepped onto the silken rug, illuminated by the flickering lamplight. Measuredly, he began the walk toward the thrones, his long, cream-colored robes dragging behind him. Two aids followed a half-dozen steps behind. Around his neck hung stoles of silver and burgundy, and over his heart he wore a large brooch with a set of two wings.

    When he reached the final column supporting the throne room, he bowed low beneath the rulers. ¡°Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Majesties.¡±

    The king grunted, and Catherine held back a look of worry, wondering to what extent he was actually aware of his surroundings. By his side, her mother stayed silent, her pale and skeletal fingers white gripping her skirt like talons.

    After a beat of silence, Catherine raised her voice; she had long since mastered the art of speaking when her father could not. ¡°Good afternoon, Bishop Matthias. For what reason did you request a meeting today?¡±

    He nodded at her with a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Forgive me, Young Majesty, but as it is the Holy Hour, would you not like to break bread in the name of the Divine Goddess?¡±

    Catherine¡¯s stomach turned, and she looked back at him with a displeased expression. His words were as cunning as they were disrespectful: he had dismissed her question, called her ¡®young majesty¡¯ when she had passed twenty-five years of age, and suggested that they dine as equals might. In the royal family¡¯s prime, such statements would have been enough to have the man sent away in exile. But now that the public favor lay with the church, refusing his request would imply that she was unwilling to pay her respects to the Goddess.

    ¡°As you say,¡± her mother spoke in a controlled voice, perhaps afraid that her daughter would rebel. She turned toward the majordomo, who stood closest to the thrones. ¡°See to it that the dining room is set and that we are provided with refreshments.¡±

    He nodded once, disappearing through a side door, and a butler approached the bishop and his entourage. ¡°This way, please, Your Lordship. The royal family will follow shortly.¡±

    Bishop Matthias bowed once more before following the butler to the dining room. As the servants began to help the royals from their seats, Catherine exchanged a dark look with her mother. Too quickly, their hold on Ciradyl was slipping between their fingers.

    ***

    Ember narrowed her eyes as someone jostled up against her shoulder, giving them a sharp look. ¡°Sorry,¡± the bovine said, falling into line behind her.

    Naz tugged Ember closer to her, looking concerned. ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡±

    Ember exhaled through her nose, crossing her hands over her chest. Even before she was diagnosed with the affliction, she had abhorred loud and crowded places, and at the moment, the registration office was both. Students were crammed into every corner of the small wooden building, chattering animatedly about the coming semester, a stark contrast from the quiet winter break.

    The registrar''s secretary, a lemur, was meeting with students at the back of the room. He sat at a stool behind a giant puffball mushroom¡ªhis desk¡ªslurping at what Ember guessed was a highly caffeinated beverage. His spectacles were askew on his nose, and the fur along his long, striped tail was pointing in all directions at once. His assistant, a furry mammal, sported dark circles under his eyes.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I guess this is what we get for waiting until the second-to-last day,¡± Carn said, leaning against the wall. ¡°Maybe I should have come back sooner.¡±

    Ember shrugged. Despite his words, it was clear that the fox¡¯s extended stay in the city had been good for him¡ªhis face was no longer lined with stress, and he had grown into his injuries from early October. In fact, his eyepatch and the missing chunk in his ear now added to his characteristic charm. ¡°Yeah, right. You seemed happy enough when you and Charlie arrived his morning,¡± she teased.

    Carn blushed. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    Since it was hard to hear each other over the bustling office, the friends fell into silence as they waited. The line crawled forward at a snail¡¯s pace, and every time a student asked the secretary a common-sense question, Ember inched closer to pulling her hair out. It didn¡¯t help that each time the door flew open to accommodate another group, it let in a cold draft.

    Then, finally, it was Ember¡¯s turn to speak with the secretary. ¡°Good morning,¡± she said, handing him her student card.

    ¡°You, too,¡± he said, somehow managing to stay polite despite the bedlam. ¡°Your classes?¡±

    She unfolded a scrap of parchment, reading out the list she¡¯d prepared. ¡°Biology Two, History of Mendel, Trigonometry, and Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain, please.¡±

    The assistant scribbled down the list as the lemur peered at her with bright orange eyes. ¡°I remember you¡ªthe first-semester valedictorian. Keep up the good work.¡± After riffling around for a moment in the mushroom desk, he reached across the counter, handing her the syllabi for each class.

    She blushed, muttering a thanks and slipping off to the side as she waited for her friends to sign up for their classes. The moment they¡¯d finished, she beelined toward the door, relieved to be free of the stifling crowd.

    A cold blast of air collided with Ember as she stepped outside. So far, early January was proving to be even colder than December, and winter clothes had to be worn even at midday. She shivered, pulling on a pair of leather gloves and thanking the heavens that she didn¡¯t live in one of the northern city-states.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we go check out our textbooks?¡± Naz said. ¡°I¡¯d like to start the reading for my sociology class before school starts.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Carn said, and Ember nodded in agreement. Since she wouldn¡¯t be allowed to participate in training for the next several weeks, it would give her a way to occupy herself.

    As they walked together, the three soon fell into a comfortable conversation. It had been a long time since Ember had caught up with Carn, and she found herself telling him all the details about her fight and her father¡¯s letter that she had skipped over when they had reunited that morning.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Carn said as she recounted the part about the church¡¯s increasing influence. ¡°I thought that Ciradyl was a monarchy.¡±

    Ember looked to Naz, whose major was human relations, knowing that she could provide a better explanation. ¡°Ciradyl isn¡¯t like Bayport,¡± the pisces said, referring to Carn¡¯s hometown. ¡°Bayport is a merchant city¡ªa plutocracy, really¡ªbut Ciradyl is a theocratic monarchy. In the last couple of decades, the Holy Order has controlled much of the law-making, while the monarchy has become more symbolic.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Ember agreed. ¡°The citizens of Ciradyl are deeply superstitious, and they trust the church to protect them from demons and outsiders.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t bode well for us,¡± Carn commented. ¡°So, what now? I doubt that you¡¯ll heed your father¡¯s request to forget about him.¡±

    Ember sighed. It was a question that she had spent the majority of the previous day contemplating. Since she had spoken with Orthus two months before, she had single-mindedly pursued a fight with the harpy eagle in order to contact her father. Now, her path forward was not as clear.

    She looked down at her arms, which were stained with hematomas the color of bile. ¡°I¡¯m still worried, of course, but it was a great relief to learn that my father is unharmed. For now, I need to bide my time and recover.¡± She clenched her gloved hand. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for an opportunity, and when I¡¯m strong enough, I¡¯ll bring him here.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll help you when that time comes,¡± Naz said, touching her gently on the shoulder, and Carn echoed the sentiment.

    The conversation was interrupted by a hoard of voices, and Ember looked up to see that they had reached the library, the centerpiece of the campus. Even after five months, It was an unmatched sight: the tall, tower-like building wound high into the sky, supported by the trunks of three ancient trees.

    Students¡ªsome accompanied by their parents¡ªrushed along the main path, their hands piled high with books and their long cloaks scraping against the half-frozen forest floor. Some held their syllabi in front of them as if deciphering an ancient document, and others carried materials for specialty classes: jars of dark blood, taxidermied animals, and weapons that looked like they could decapitate a man in one swing.

    Ember let out a silent groan. During her first semester, she had avoided the mad rush when the secretary, taking pity on her, had had someone deliver her books to the unaffiliated dorm.

    The three friends joined the line to enter the library, and it wasn¡¯t long before they were caught up in the throng passing through the doors.

    The inside was even busier than the outside. When they stepped into the atrium, Ember tilted her head up, looking all the way to the ceiling. Along the walkways, Linnaeans of all species were filling their knapsacks with books and scrolls. They hurried along the narrow staircases and ladders, sometimes striding atop the banister or jumping between stories until a member of staff reprimanded them. Others huddled around the fireplaces, laboring over their lists of materials.

    Sunlight streamed through the windows, bouncing off of gold leaf inscriptions. Hundreds of thousands of books lined the many shelves, sorted by author and subject. The variety was astounding: there were pamphlets only a couple of pages long and tomes too long to lift; leather-bound volumes and papyrus scrolls; books from Mendel and from the mainland; ancient texts and brand-new releases. It was a scholar¡¯s dream.

    Ember shook her head, the corner of her mouth quirking up despite herself, and lowered her eyes to the syllabus at the top of her stack. ¡°All right,¡± she said, ¡°First up, Fundamentals of Trigonometry by Person Burton.¡±

 52: Power Struggle

    Catherine had never met an individual as vile as Bishop Matthias. She watched as he raised a chunk of bread to his lips, mouthing it like a dog. Slowly, she chewed on the same piece of roasted pig she¡¯d eaten three minutes before, unable to swallow¡ªwatching him had made her appetite disappear to such an extent that she wondered if she would ever feel hungry again.

    ¡°Are the other dishes not to your liking?¡± the queen asked, her eyes sliding over the dinner table. It was long enough to accommodate ten people, and the spread on top was grand, adorned with a variety of wines, stuffed meats, and steamed vegetable dishes.

    The bishop waved a hand. ¡°Why, I am just a humble servant of the Goddess! I could never partake in such an extravagant meal.¡±

    Catherine stared at him in disbelief. It was he who asked to dine, and of course he would have known that he would not be served only bread. To her disgust, though, several of the servants were nodding to his words, and Catherine even thought she saw one of them mouth: ¡®How sensible¡¯.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± he said, ¡°I would not request an audience just to take advantage of your hospitality. My concern is in regards to the recent incident involving the demons of the south.¡±

    The queen paused, and Catherine quickly raised a hand to dismiss the servants from the room. Once the door had shut behind the last one, she folded her hands over her lap. ¡°You speak of Mendel.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Indeed, that is the name of their cursed city. As you know, on the winter solstice, a delegation was sent from Parma to deliver one of the afflicted. They were accompanied by one of our priests. None of those men have returned.¡±

    Catherine took a sip from her glass of wine. ¡°If I recall correctly, bishop, we¡¯ve already discussed this incident. The Linnaean major, Richardson, sent us a letter explaining that the delegation attempted to hold the afflicted child hostage.¡±

    The bishop shrugged. ¡°Yes, that seems to be their story, though it is almost undoubtedly a fabrication. Your Majesties, this is a blatant attempt to test our boundaries.¡±

    ¡°My understanding was that those men acted on their own,¡± the queen said carefully. ¡°Though I profess that I cannot understand why one of your priests was traveling with a delegation from Parma.¡±

    ¡°Regardless, the afflicted have not dared to threaten us in a century. We must now take stronger action, and it is the Holy Order, not the monarchy, with the power to do so.¡±

    Catherine¡¯s eyes narrowed with understanding. So, this was why he had wanted to meet¡ªto demand that the reigns of power be handed to the church in order to communicate with the Linnaeans directly. ¡°Is this the archbishop¡¯s request or your own?¡± she asked.

    Bishop Matthias¡¯s face darkened. As the archbishop¡¯s subordinate, it was his duty to fulfill his orders, and it was sacrilegious to suggest otherwise. The issue was that, like the king, the archbishop was advanced in age, and his orders were often subject to interpretation.

    ¡°Perhaps, through peaceful negotiation, we can have the men returned,¡± the queen offered. ¡°It seemed from the letter that they might still be alive.¡±

    ¡°Forgive my impudence, but as the primary decision-making body of Ciradyl, it is the Holy Order that is equipped to navigate such a disaster.¡±

    Catherine frowned. ¡°What can you mean? My father is still commander in chief of our forces.¡±

    The bishop had the gall to lean back and chuckle. His eyes shifted to the king, who was staring at a spot on the tablecloth. ¡°In name, perhaps. But I think you will find that the army is loyal to the Holy Order.¡±

    There was a moment of silence as Catherine seethed. Sure, it was true that the majority of Ciradyl¡¯s small army (like the rest of the city, for that matter) attended church, but wasn¡¯t it a stretch to say that they would side with the Holy Order over the monarchy? After all, they had served her family for hundreds of years.

    ¡°Perhaps it is time that we tell the public about this incident,¡± the bishop said suddenly. ¡°I wonder how they will react to the news that the monarchy failed to act when one of their leaders met his demise at the hands of the demons.¡±

    The queen made an involuntary noise of surprise, and a realization dawned on Catherine like a bucket of ice water dumped upon her head. The lost priest had not accompanied the envoy from Parma of his own volition; no, he had been ordered to do so for this very moment¡ªa sacrifice for the advancement of the Holy Order.

    ¡°I am no Linnaean sympathizer,¡± Catherine said, and she meant it; she had been taught her whole life to fear the shadow of the South. ¡°But my great-grandfather was on the council that ratified the treaty. He thought peace would be best for our people.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Do you mean to say,¡± the bishop said slowly, ¡°that you do not intend to entrust the negotiations to us?¡±

    Catherine looked at her mother, who gave her a tiny nod. It was time, now, to draw a line in the sand before they lost what little power they had left. ¡°That is correct,¡± she said, angling her chin upwards. ¡°This duty has remained in my family for a hundred years, and that will not change today.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± the bishop said, and his eyes were cold as he regarded her. ¡°So be it.¡± And then, with no further protest, he stood up, bowed deeply, and exited the dining hall.

    ***

    ¡°Welcooome to History of Mendel,¡± Professor Bao said in a long, raspy drawl, ¡°the one and only class that has been taught at the university since its inception thirty-six years ago. I personally have had the pleasure of being its professor for every semester except one, in which I was bedridden with the flu.¡±

    Ember nodded along. The professor appeared positively ancient, and she wouldn¡¯t have been surprised even if he had been among the first Linnaeans to arrive in Mendel. His face, mostly human with a wide jaw and short snout, had wrinkles so deep that they could have been etched into stone. His skin was thick and grey, and his head drooped from a long, withered neck. But most prominent was the weather-beaten, heavy shell that wrapped around his torso and sat upon his back.

    The professor made a chewing motion, and Ember spotted half of a blade of grass hanging from the corner of his mouth. ¡°Anyways,¡± he continued, ¡°I appreciate you all choosing my class this semester, and I hope you¡¯ll find it informative. Naturally, we¡¯ll begin with Mendel¡¯s geography, then progress to its founding, its early development, the negotiation of the treaty, and the ongoing communication with the city-states.¡±

    Ember¡¯s gaze slid over to a nearby classmate, exchanging a wry look. The rumors were true: Professor Bao had the most sleep-inducing voice she had ever heard, so slow and gentle that it could have been a lullaby. The class had just begun, yet the head of the student adjacent to her was already beginning to droop.

    Bao squinted, drawing attention to his half-milky eyes, and Ember realized that he must be mostly blind. ¡°Truthfully, I¡¯m no good at remembering names, so we won¡¯t spend any time on introductions. I trust that you all checked out our textbook from the library?¡±

    As if in slow motion, he stooped, picking up a massive book from a drawer in his desk. Snapping out of their stupor, the students shuffled through their bags, drawing out their own copies, which were as heavy as a stack of bricks. Ember plopped hers down, where it threatened to topple the entire desk over.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite well-written, and much of it is a first-person account,¡± Bao added, his long, clawed fingers tapping on the hardcover. ¡°High quality, thorough, and enlightening.¡±

    Ember glanced down at her copy, where the author¡¯s name shone in silver leaf: Zinwick Bao, Doctor of History. She sighed. If the lecture thus far had been any indication, the book''s merits would not include a compelling nature.

    ¡°Well, anyhow,¡± Bao said, having the dignity to sound slightly sheepish, ¡°let¡¯s begin with a brief geography lesson, which should be a review for you all.¡± He hobbled over to the board, where he unpinned and unrolled a map.

    Ember sat up with interest. Maps were precious in both Mendel and the city-states, and most of the ones that she had seen were mostly blank to the east and south. Bao¡¯s map was the most detailed that she had seen besides the three-dimensional one in Corax¡¯s office.

    ¡°Our continent is quite large, about two million square miles in area, by our best estimates. Mendel is here, at the top of the southern peninsula,¡± he said, pointing at a little dot. ¡°Our territory is bounded by the Old Forest to the north and the Blackwater Caves to the south. Further below is the true wild, which we know very little about. Only a few researchers have made the journey to the edge of the continent and back, the most successful being Dr. Salvatore Thompson.¡±

    Ember quickly scribbled the name in her notebook, recognizing it from her meeting with Corax in mid-November. ¡°According to his observations, the southern ocean lies about six hundred miles south of Mendel, as the crow flies. It¡¯s important to mention, however, that Dr. Thompson was suffering from the dengue virus at this time, and his notes are stained with blood from self-stitching a wound from a jaguar attack.¡±

    The professor delivered this shocking news in such a flat, emotionless tone, that Ember did a double take. A¡­ a jaguar attack?

    ¡°Moving on,¡± Bao continued, ¡°of the thirteen city-states, Draycott is our closest neighbor to the northeast. Ciradyl lies one-hundred-twenty miles directly above it, where the Hecatomb Mountain Range originates. Further along that chain, to the east, are the mining city-states of Serton and Vargas.¡± He dragged a shaky claw to the left, pointing at the center of the continent. ¡°Here, we have Bushnell, Chibron, Oxbow, and Gibnor, in ascending order. These are the states of the plains and desert.¡±

    Again, he moved his claw, this time to the southwest, where another mountain range cut across the map like jagged teeth. ¡°To the right of the Valram mountains, the wooded cities of Elesmont and Parma; to the left, Westborren and Nekimir.¡±

    He wiped his forehead, drawing a piece of wheat from his pocket on which to chew. ¡°Then, last of all, Fesburg and Bayport on the western coast. Is that clear?¡±

    He looked around expectantly. Ember grimaced, suddenly grateful that his vision was poor; at least a third of the class had closed their eyes, and several had begun to snore softly. Unlike them, she had fought the growing heaviness in her eyelids in order to draw a rough replica of Bao¡¯s map, which she hoped would help her commit it to memory.

    She set her jaw. She had to consider her father in Ciradyl and her grandparents¡ªher best chance of finding out about her mother¡¯s disappearance¡ªin Maple Valley, a farming village outside of Vargas. Because no matter how much she might wish to, she couldn¡¯t stay in Mendel forever.

 53: The Predatoréˆ¥æªš Spirit

    Ember stretched both of her arms high above her head, breathing deeply. She closed her eyes, accessing her condition: she was terribly stiff, but the sharp pain that had plagued her for two weeks was now only a memory. Finally, twenty-one days after her fight with Freya, she had been cleared¡ªprovisionally¡ªto participate in the intermediate class. The same was true for Ophelia¡¯s other course, Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain, which would begin in earnest the following day.

    ¡°Feeling okay?¡± Lance asked, sitting down with both legs in front of him as he bent nimbly to touch his toes.

    ¡°Show-off,¡± Ember muttered, waving a hand at him. Being injured had been an agonizing experience, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel like she had wasted time that could have been used to grow stronger.

    Voices near the entrance of the training hall caught Ember¡¯s attention, and she turned, doing a double-take as she registered a familiar face. There, dressed in her full uniform, was someone Ember hadn¡¯t seen since the night of the solstice: her training partner, Jisu.

    Ember leaped to her feet. Jisu was speaking with Ophelia, both women surrounded by a small group of curious classmates. ¡°Congratulations,¡± the instructor was saying. ¡°I¡¯m impressed, Jisu, that is quite an accomplishment for someone your age.¡±

    Jisu bowed. ¡°Even so, forgive me for my absence. I will train harder to make up for the time I missed.¡±

    Ophelia laughed, waving her bristly hand. ¡°Worry not; I know that the month you spent was far more valuable.¡±

    Jisu thanked her, and then, she caught Ember¡¯s look. She shrugged off the other students¡¯ inquiries, clasping Ember¡¯s forearm in a fighter¡¯s greeting. ¡°Are you well?¡± she asked, looking over Ember. ¡°I heard about your injuries in the¡­ uh¡­ moose attack.¡±

    Ember said nothing, instead taking in Jisu¡¯s appearance. The woman in front of her had changed so much in a month that she wondered if it was even the same person: her manner of speech had matured, her body exuded health, and she wore a calm, self-assured expression.

    ¡°Jisu, where were you?¡± Ember asked, taken aback.

    The panther glanced around. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it after class, I promise.¡±

    Ember nodded uneasily, now more curious than before. Before she could question Jisu further, however, Ophelia called for the class to begin.

    As they executed a quick warm-up routine, led by Michael, Ophelia called for the students¡¯ attention. ¡°It has now been a month since we accepted our newest recruits,¡± she began. ¡°Thus, I believe it¡¯s time to prepare for our first evaluation of the year, which will be held in two weeks¡¯ time. This is your opportunity to ascend to the next level and earn your first, second, or third armbands. Two of you,¡± she looked pointedly at the most senior students, ¡°are also eligible to take the entrance exam for the advanced class.

    ¡°These tests are voluntary. Participating will assess your abilities, but it will be strenuous and can cause injury, so should not be taken lightly. The test will have three parts: a fitness exam and a spar with and without a weapon.¡±

    Ember frowned. She hadn¡¯t expected the first evaluation to come soon after her fight with Freya¡ªthough she was confident that she was able to move up in level, she was still far from peak performance. Even so, the chance to test didn¡¯t come often, and she did not intend to let it slip through her fingers.

    When the warmup concluded, the class split into pairs in order to run weapon drills. Ember and Jisu instinctively sought each other out, settling into the familiar position across from each other on the training floor.

    Ember¡¯s heart raced in her chest as both women unsheathed their weapons: Ember her fang knife, and Jisu her short sword. The drill was an unstructured one¡ªone partner would be on offense and the other on defense, and the offensive opponent would be allowed five attacks to attempt to touch their partner¡¯s body with their blade.

    ¡°You first,¡± Ember said, holding her knife in front of her sternum and feeling unreasonably nervous. Her formal weapon training was limited to Ophelia¡¯s class, but as far as she knew, Jisu was in the same situation. At the very least, observing the panther first would allow her time to plot her own attacks.

    Jisu shrugged, readying her stance. Ember held her knife firmly in her fist with the blade pointed upwards at an angle, an inflexible grip best suited for blocking.

    In a smooth motion, Jisu sprang forward, slashing her sword in a downward arc from her shoulder to her opposite hip. Ember jerked back in surprise, the dulled tip of the blade barely missing her chest. Without pause, Jisu sidestepped and lunged, her arm extended in a stab. Instinctively, Ember parried, turning the knife downward and catching the strike on the flat of the blade.

    Ember watched with rapt attention as Jisu retreated. There was a marked difference in her movements¡ªthey were quicker and harder to predict than before.

    Spinning on the ball of her foot, Jisu attempted another slash, this time in an outwards rotation from the left side of her body to her right. From the apex of her strike, she sliced the sword downward, and Ember raised her blade to block again. This time, however, Jisu drew back her weapon so that its tip was behind her shoulder, bringing it back down in an attack that caught Ember just above the knee.

    Even with the blade dulled, the strike smarted, bringing pinpricks of blood to the surface of Ember¡¯s skin. Ember touched the spot gingerly, berating herself for overlooking Jisu¡¯s feint. The panther had succeeded in making contact in only four strikes. Her sword allowed for greater reach, but that alone did not account for the difference between them¡ªin fact, Ember had the sense that the balance of the fight had laid staunchly in Jisu¡¯s favor since the beginning, like a mother cat that pretended to allow her cub to catch her unawares.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Ready yourself!¡± Jisu said, assuming the defensive position. Ember shook her head, re-focusing her thoughts on her plan of attack. She changed her grip on the knife, holding it sideways to allow her to allow her greater flexibility.

    She closed the distance between her and Jisu, raising her knife high above her head and attempting a downward slash. Again and again, her strikes found only air. Frustration built in Ember¡¯s chest, and she huffed, narrowing her gaze. How is it that Jisu reacts to my every move? Is it my inexperience with the blade? Or my injuries?

    When Ophelia called for the class to gather again, Ember¡¯s skin and pride were bruised; the strike count had ended ten to six in Jisu¡¯s favor. She pushed her blade unceremoniously into its sheath, anger bubbling to the surface.

    ¡°As usual, to finish our class, we¡¯re going to watch some light spars, this time without weapons,¡± Ophelia said. ¡°First up, let¡¯s have Jisu and Jamarquis.¡±

    Before she knew what she was doing, Ember was on her feet. ¡°Let me fight instead,¡± she said.

    The other trainees and Ophelia turned toward Ember, and she realized that her outburst had been discourteous. ¡°Forgive me,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m just eager to resume sparring after my injuries.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Ophelia asked, her brow furrowing in an expression that Ember hadn¡¯t seen her wear before, a cross between disappointment and concern. ¡°That may be too hasty.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ember said, slightly chagrined. She couldn¡¯t back down now, especially when she had stolen someone else¡¯s fight in front of her peers and rivals.

    Ophelia turned to Jamarquis. ¡°Are you okay with fighting Johanna instead?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no problem,¡± the dragonfly shrugged, returning to his seat and shooting Ember a look of interest.

    ¡°I want to see a light spar,¡± Ophelia said, emphasizing the adjective. ¡°I¡¯ll stop the fight when I see fit.¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyes slid over to Jisu, who wore a bemused expression. She pushed one foot back and raised her fists to her cheeks, assuming her usual stance and feeling altogether more serious than was appropriate for an informal spar.

    ¡°Begin,¡± Ophelia commanded.

    Ember swallowed unevenly. She sprang toward Jisu, her left fist drawn back for a punch. Jisu parried with a wave of her hand, directing her off-course. Then, the panther raised her heel for an axe kick, which Ember blocked, attempting to sweep her bottom leg out from under her.

    The opponents were quickly locked into a lightning-fast dance of strikes and blocks. Ember tested a range of techniques, gauging the panther¡¯s ability, and found that she had improved dramatically from their last spar: she was less impulsive, and she had adopted a new pattern of footwork that barely disturbed the sand beneath their feet.

    When Ember activated her thermal vision, she found no weakness in Jisu¡¯s heat signature: in fact, the panther was positively overflowing with vitality. As the fight stretched on, an unwelcome realization dawned upon her; at the moment, she and the cat were evenly matched. Ophelia let the fight continue as both opponents weakened with exhaustion, and soon Ember was gasping for breath, stirring the pain in her ribs.

    Her nails dug into her palms, and she wanted to scream with frustration. I need to end this, now.

    Without giving careful consideration to her actions, she closed the distance between her and Jisu, feigning a knee to the panther¡¯s stomach. As Jisu lowered her arm to block, Ember raised an elbow, clocking her unceremoniously across the face.

    It was an inappropriate, cheap move for a light spar, and Ember regretted it the moment Jisu groaned, a hand flying up to clutch her eye. ¡°Sorry,¡± she murmured, reaching for her training partner.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Ophelia commanded. ¡°Jisu, are you okay?¡±

    Jisu uncovered her face, glancing at Ember with one eye half-shut. ¡°Yes, I think it¡¯s only a black eye.¡±

    Ophelia faced Ember with a disapproving gaze. ¡°Our end-of-class spars are to test your skills against each other,¡± she pointed out. ¡°An elbow to the face is hardly refined, and if Jisu had wanted to execute such a brutish move, she had plenty of opportunities to do so before you.¡± She lowered her voice, speaking only to Ember. ¡°See me after class.¡±

    Ember groaned internally, ashamed and feeling the heavy weight of the other trainees¡¯ judgemental stares. She found her place at the back of the group, sitting with her back hunched. She needed to apologize sincerely to Jisu, undoubtedly, but now was not the time¡ªshe had involved her personal business in class enough for one day.

    When the other spars concluded, the students gathered their bags and weapons, eager to return home. During the morning classes, it was typical for groups of students to remain behind to sharpen their weapons, consult Ophelia, or spar together, but their weariness shone through in the evening.

    The room was nearly empty when Ember approached Ophelia, bowing her head. ¡°I know my actions today were unbecoming of a warrior,¡± she said. ¡°I will apologize to Jisu immediately.¡±

    Ophelia sighed, looking at her without malice. ¡°I know, Ember. Mistakes happen, especially in the heat of battle. That¡¯s not why I asked to speak with you privately.¡±

    Ember blinked, confused. ¡°Then why?¡±

    ¡°What is your reason for training?¡± Ophelia asked gently.

    Ember paused, remembering when Corax had asked her a similar question. ¡°To become stronger,¡± she said. As always, her mind went to her father, who was being watched in Ciradyl even as they spoke. ¡°I need to protect my family.¡±

    ¡°I thought that might be the case. But if your goal is simply to protect your loved ones, then why were you threatened by Jisu¡¯s progress today?¡±

    Ember stared at her instructor. She had a point¡ªEmber had been unreasonably competitive with Jisu if rescuing her father was her only goal. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted quietly.

    ¡°Ember, have you considered the fact that you might enjoy fighting? Not causing others pain, but the physical and mental challenge of self-advancement?¡±

    Ember looked down at her bloodied knuckles. Had training become something more than a means to an end for her? If so, when? She thought back to the satisfaction of successfully landing her first hit; to the pride in passing Mr. Badger¡¯s evaluations; to the sweet relief when training banished the lingering trauma from the margay; to the thrilling sensation of discovery when she and Marcus had bent over her notes, strategizing.

    She shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She was hungry to climb the ranks, to hone her skills until she surpassed Roland and anyone else who dared to threaten her.

    ¡°Nature is, at its core, a competition for survival,¡± Ophelia explained, ¡°in which predators such as yourself must kill or be killed. But be careful, because the desire for power can easily become all-consuming, convincing you to fall prey to shortcuts such as forgoing the treatment.¡±

    Ember nodded. ¡°What should I do?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve grown fast, but your foundation is unstable. Go back to the basics, and practice controlling your instinct before it controls you.¡±

    Ember looked at the sand beneath her feet. Again, Ophelia was right, without even knowing the details of her previous fights¡ªin her desperation, she could have killed Freya had her venom been developed. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, ¡°I understand.¡±

 54: An Insurmountable Obstacle

    Ember threw up her hood, crossing the threshold between the training building and the cold forest. She froze mid-step, sensing a presence nearby, and turned to see a slim figure leaning against the stone exterior. ¡°Jisu?¡± she asked tentatively, both relieved and nervous to see that her partner had waited for her.

    The panther nodded, her face obscured in the dusk. ¡°Let¡¯s walk back to campus together.¡±

    The two fell into step, their boots crunching on the icy trail. Ember took a deep breath, the air stinging on the way down her windpipe. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said decisively.

    ¡°As you should be,¡± Jisu said, regarding her cooly. Ember¡¯s heart sank, and as she opened her mouth to grovel, a small smile lifted the corner of the cat¡¯s lips. ¡°Relax. I¡¯m teasing. I¡¯ve been exactly where you are now.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve improved,¡± Ember admitted, ¡°both your physical condition and your form. Your footwork looked like dance steps, and I couldn¡¯t keep up.¡±

    Jisu¡¯s gaze turned upward. ¡°Ember,¡± she said carefully, ¡°have you ever felt as though you were facing an unconquerable mountain?¡±

    Ember blinked, surprised by the question. She could guess at the feeling to which Jisu was referring, but she had the sense that the cat would say something valuable if she feigned ignorance. ¡°A mountain? What do you mean?¡±

    Jisu sighed, watching as a cloud of vapor detached itself from her lips and drifted into the tree line. ¡°The truth is, when we first met, I was by far the stronger fighter. I knew that you were improving, but I never believed that you could surpass me. Even when Mr. Badger warned me not to be complacent, I didn¡¯t believe him.¡±

    Ember¡¯s brows pinched together. He never seemed to have that much confidence in me.

    ¡°I was shocked and embarrassed when you bested me at the evaluation. It was the first time I had suffered that kind of loss, made worse by the fact that you had only been training a matter of months. Fighting was my entire identity, but I crumbled in front of a true prot¨¦g¨¦.¡±

    ¡°Maybe someone like Roland is a prot¨¦g¨¦, but not me,¡± Ember argued. ¡°I¡¯m still in the first level of the intermediate class, and I performed pitifully just now.¡±

    Jisu stopped her with a hand. ¡°Regardless, from that day on, I felt as though I was facing an insurmountable obstacle. No matter how hard I trained, you trained harder. On the night of the solstice, your murderous expression made me realize that if I didn¡¯t do something, I would be forever in your shadow.¡±

    At her words, a feeling of deep-seated d¨¦j¨¤ vu stirred within Ember, and she shuddered, reminded of the overwhelming pressure of the rogue and Freya. ¡°So what did you do?¡±

    ¡°I humbled myself. I went to Corax, and I begged him to help me grow stronger. He must have sensed my desperation because he sent me to a master fighter. Her name is the Ghost Cat.¡±

    A master. Ember recognized the title: it belonged only to members of the Apex Association, Linnaeans who had won at least one Division One tournament cycle and who transcended the top four hundred ranks. Suddenly, Ember¡¯s envy returned, though she fought to tamp it down. ¡°Did she take you as her apprentice?¡± she asked, her voice filled with trepidation.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Jisu said, shaking her head. ¡°I am nowhere near worthy of that designation. I carried out a task for her, and in exchange, she trained me for a month.¡±

    An unpleasant sensation wormed its way into Ember¡¯s belly. The consequences of the time she had spent trapped in her own bubble had come to fruition¡ªshe was soberingly ignorant of the fighters¡¯ politics. Does Roland have a master, as I heard rumored in his debut fight? Does Elliot?

    Jisu touched Ember¡¯s shoulder, bringing them both to a stop on the trail. ¡°I want to challenge you, Ember,¡± she said fiercely, her emerald eyes aflame. ¡°I want to push each other to the breaking point.¡±

    Ember¡¯s gaze sharpened, and a hiss escaped from between her teeth. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about,¡± Jisu said quietly. ¡°That lethal aura.¡±

    Ember shook her head, pulling herself back from her instinct. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize,¡± Jisu said. She let out a small laugh, and the tension between them dissipated.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s as you said before: we will rise up the ranks together.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Today means nothing in the scheme of our careers. Besides¡­ I know you¡¯re still in pain from your fight with Freya.¡±

    Ember¡¯s mouth dropped open in disbelief. Because she trusted that Jisu would keep quiet, she felt more annoyed than concerned. ¡°Apparently, the perks of training with a master include the latest gossip,¡± she said drily.

    ¡°I prefer to call it being informed,¡± the cat corrected, winking.

    ***

    ¡°You¡¯ve grown,¡± Marcus said, the ball of his foot catching her in the stomach and propelling her onto her rear end. ¡°Your movements are less erratic and more precise.¡±

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    Ember grimaced, rubbing her tailbone. ¡°You¡¯re still holding back.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad,¡± Elliot said from across the clearing. ¡°Marcus would be a ranker if not for his leg injury.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± the python shrugged, offering her his hand only to withdraw it at the last moment, teasing her. ¡°But I can tell your training is paying off.¡±

    Ember caught Marcus¡¯s arm, pulling herself to her feet. For ten days straight, she had trained in only the most basic punches and kicks. It was almost unbearably difficult to restrict herself in the face of her instinct, especially when she fought stronger fighters.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re discouraged,¡± he said, his voice softening, ¡°but even the strongest opponents can be beaten by a single move if it¡¯s powerful enough. It¡¯s better to train the same skill one thousand times than to train one thousand different skills once.¡±

    As usual, his insight caught her by surprise. He looked her over, his eyes glazed, a tell-tale sign that he was using his infrared vision. ¡°Tell you what,¡± he said, ¡°we¡¯re almost done for the day, so why don¡¯t you ask Amir about your venom?¡±

    Ember grimaced, knowing that he must be remembering her slip-up during the fight with Freya. Still, she nodded¡ªshe was spent both mentally and physically from the brutal, monotonous training, and a break would not be amiss.

    ¡°Come here, kid,¡± Amir called, having overheard their conversation from between the trees.

    Rolling her eyes at the nickname, Ember obliged. As she came up beside Amir, she realized that the skin on his hands, forearms, and shins was bruised and broken. ¡°What happened to you?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    He gestured at the tree in front of him, whose bark was painted dark red with his blood. ¡°Bone hardening,¡± he explained. ¡°Small, repeated injuries to the bones increase their density. The same stress, when applied to the skin, forms protective callouses. Let me show you.¡±

    He paused, backed up, and swung his leg at full force into the tree. A bang like gunfire rang out through the clearing, and the oak tremored, raining debris. His shin leaked blood but otherwise appeared to be intact.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Ember breathed, knowing that the impact would have snapped her bone in half.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said sheepishly, ¡°it may not be pretty, but I¡¯d rather suffer now than during a match.¡±

    Ember nodded, impressed by his fortitude. If I had that ability, I might have held out longer against Freya, she reasoned, remembering how the harpy eagle¡¯s strikes had left hematomas beneath her skin.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± the lizard said, wiping his hands on his pants, ¡°how are your fangs coming in?¡±

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re fully grown,¡± she explained, ¡°and according to my doctor, they might shed soon.¡± She opened her mouth and extended her fangs, showing him. After six weeks of growth, they had reached their full length of three-quarters of an inch. The one on the left had been chipped during her attack on Freya, but the right was fully intact.

    Amir squinted at her¡ªunfortunately, one of his mutations had been a degradation in his eyesight. ¡°Have you ever tried injecting your venom?¡±

    ¡°Not on purpose,¡± Ember said, glancing at Marcus.

    ¡°Hmm. The mechanism behind our venom is different, but I might be able to help you.¡± He opened his mouth, revealing a series of razor-sharp, wavelike teeth. ¡°Your fangs are hollow, and they dispense your venom like needles, but my venom is released in the mouth and chewed in by the teeth. Our venom glands are similar, but mine are at the end of my jaw, whereas yours are¡­¡±

    ¡°Below and behind my eyes,¡± Ember supplied, remembering her research.

    ¡°Right. For both of us, a compressor muscle presses on the gland in order for the venom to be released. That muscle is going to take some time to develop, but it¡¯s better to grow accustomed to using it before your venom synthesizes.¡±

    He poked her in the jaw with a stocky finger, and her hand shot up to stop his, her eyes narrowed in a glare. He chuckled. ¡°First, visualize the muscle and imagine it compressing. Then, practice engaging the muscles in your face individually. This will help you gain control and recognize when you¡¯re focusing on the wrong areas.

    ¡°When you do activate the muscle, practice it in tandem with extending your fangs. Eventually, both will become automatic, but it¡¯s important that you don¡¯t engage them only by instinct. Without partial control, your envenomations will always have the potential to be fatal.¡±

    Ember traced a finger below her eye socket, trying to flex the muscle beneath. The sensation she had felt while fighting Freya was nowhere to be found; in fact, the area felt completely devoid of motion. ¡°It¡¯s going to take some time,¡± she admitted, ¡°but thank you.¡±

    ¡°No problem,¡± Amir grinned. A cold gust blew over the group, and he shivered. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go inside and have breakfast.¡±

    Ahead of them, Marcus and Elliot agreed, slinging their bags over their shoulders and beginning to make their way back to the dorm. Ember watched them for a moment, feeling a rush of gratefulness for the time that they had spent guiding her.

    She caught up to Elliot, looking up at the prefect¡¯s large frame. His appearance was as savage as ever: one large, leathery hand held his armored tail to keep it from dragging, his teeth jutted threateningly from his mouth, and his cunning yellow eyes held an air of deadly confidence. Despite that, Ember was at ease in his presence.

    ¡°Elliot,¡± she said, ¡°can I ask you something?¡±

    His bright yellow eyes were curious. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a master?¡±

    A small noise of surprise came from Amir, who turned toward them with wide eyes. Ember¡¯s gaze slid sideways to Marcus, who was watching them in his peripheral vision. ¡°Perhaps I overstepped,¡± Ember backpedaled, holding up her hands. ¡°It¡¯s okay if-¡±

    Elliot laughed, a low rumble in his chest. ¡°That¡¯s a very personal question, little viper.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know,¡± Ember said truthfully. From how she had heard the others speculate about other rankers having a master, she hadn¡¯t thought that it was something to conceal.

    ¡°The politics of the Apex Association are quite complicated,¡± Elliot explained. ¡°The members of the association form rivalries and alliances with each other. It¡¯s a great honor to be publicly claimed by your mentor, but it also means that you¡¯ll open yourself up to challenges from the students of their rivals. If you¡¯re not prepared, you¡¯ll be crushed. Besides, such a partnership is rarely free.¡±

    At his words, Ember¡¯s illusion of a harmonious coalition of fighters shattered. Wouldn¡¯t Corax, the association¡¯s leader, prefer to keep the peace? Her brows knit together, and she imagined him positioning the masters like pieces on a chessboard. Perhaps not, if their feuding grants him greater control. But what was his motive for sending Jisu to the Ghost Cat?

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she told Elliot, ¡°You¡¯ve given me much to think about.¡±

 55: The Aurelian Artery

    ¡°I hope that clarifies your questions about the homework,¡± Professor Bao said, standing up from his desk and making his way to the blackboard in an unhurried shuffle. When there was no response from her classmates, Ember looked around, unsurprised that many of them had already been lulled into a relaxed stupor. One mammal had even gone as far as to use his backpack as a pillow, though the professor seemed not to have noticed.

    ¡°Today¡¯s lesson is a very important one,¡± the tortoise began. ¡°Students often come to my class with the misconception that our treaty with the thirteen city-states has been without issue since its establishment, but this is far from the truth. In fact, there have been many isolated incidents involving the false imprisonment or mistreatment of Linnaeans in the last one hundred years.¡±

    Ember looked up from her notetaking, intrigued by what he was saying. ¡°Such incidents are notoriously difficult to deal with,¡± he continued, ¡°as it is usually not the governments of the city-states, but cults of human supremacists or nonaligned settlements that carry out such heinous acts. Therefore, they are not grounds for termination of the treaty. Furthermore, many governments have become experts at verbally cooperating with our efforts to retrieve captured Linnaeans, but providing little assistance in practice.¡±

    His words brought Ember back to her childhood in Maple Valley, a small farming village outside of Vargas. Though it communicated closely with the city-state, its citizens had mostly handled their own affairs¡ªthus, a Linnaean¡¯s appearance could be easily concealed.

    ¡°Does anyone know who is tasked with detecting and addressing violations of the treaty?¡± Bao asked, regaining her attention.

    A diligent student in the middle row raised her hand. ¡°Is it Headmaster Corax?¡±

    ¡°Good guess,¡± Bao replied, ¡°but not directly. Corax oversees the patrol group, and his crows have played a significant role in our security for decades. Though they occasionally spot incidents on the mainland, they are not advanced enough to relay the details to him.¡±

    Ember narrowed her eyes. Even if Bao¡¯s words were true, she suspected that Corax had other, more comprehensive ways of gathering information. ¡°Is it the scouts, then?¡± she asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s partially correct,¡± the tortoise said. ¡°The primary role of the scouts is reconnaissance: gathering information and supplies from the mainland. They do detect violations to the treaty, but they don¡¯t resolve them.¡±

    Ember exchanged a look with the student in the middle row, stumped. ¡°As you can see,¡± the professor continued, ¡°what I am about to tell you is not well-known. The brave people that rescue captured Linnaeans and deliver them to the mainland are known as the couriers of the Aurelian Artery.¡±

    Ember jotted down the unfamiliar name. ¡°The artery is aptly named, as it is the lifeblood of Mendel. Mistreated Linnaeans gain their freedom through this top-secret network. There are members of the artery in every city-state, many of them human.¡±

    At his words, some members of the class stirred, their eyes finding the board again. ¡°Humans?¡± a pisces asked, his voice skeptical.

    ¡°The humans in Mendel are not our only supporters, child. We have many human allies on the mainland¡ªrelatives of Linnaeans, Linnaean sympathizers, or anarchists who wish to see the downfall of their government. Regardless of motive, we work along with all of them.¡±

    There were mumbles of surprise, and Ember smiled slightly at Professor Bao. Despite what Ciradyl had put her through, she did not want to see humans become synonymous with evil¡ªespecially not when her ultimate goal was to deliver her father to Mendel.

    A male insect raised his hand. ¡°I understand the ¡®artery¡¯ part, but why aurelian?¡±

    ¡°Good question!¡± Bao exclaimed, impressively animated considering his advanced age. ¡°The artery has existed since before the treaty, but its modern name comes from one of its greatest Linnaean heroes. She was known almost exclusively by her title, the Golden Lance of Mendel.¡±

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    There was silence in the classroom, and Ember realized that like herself, no one had heard the name before. ¡°The Golden Lance served the artery for two decades. In that time, it is estimated that she and her subordinates delivered over six hundred Linnaeans and their families to Mendel.¡±

    ¡°What happened to her?¡± Ember asked quietly.

    ¡°Unfortunately, she passed away eight years ago,¡± Bao explained. ¡°Although the circumstances around her death were unclear, many of her subordinates went into hiding out of fear, and the artery lost much of its prowess.¡±

    Ember¡¯s quill froze mid-notation. The timeline of the courier¡¯s death eerily paralleled that of her mother¡¯s disappearance. Is it a coincidence, or could my mother have been involved in the artery? Could she have been one of the Golden Lance¡¯s subordinates?

    Bao¡¯s head turned toward the skylight, and he sighed. ¡°Regrettably, it appears that our class is coming to an end for the day.¡±

    He was again met with silence, and he clapped his hands together. ¡°Rouse yourselves, students!¡±

    The sound of rustling papers filled the classroom as the students rushed to pack their bags and head for their next lectures. Throwing her backpack over one shoulder, Ember made her way around the desks to the front of the room, where Bao was wiping the board clean with an eraser.

    ¡°Professor?¡± Ember asked, and he turned, slowly fixing her in his milky gaze.

    ¡°Ahhh, yes¡­ Whitlock, right? A fellow reptile?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. I wanted to know if you have any more information on the Golden Lance or her subordinates. Perhaps their real names, species, or base of operations?¡±

    The professor chewed on a stalk of wheat as he considered her question. ¡°I appreciate your interest,¡± he said, ¡°but unfortunately, the Golden Lance and her team were some of the most mysterious people in Mendel¡¯s history. They protected their identities above all else, and their real names and faces are unknown to me. Given the nature of their work, I would assume that the majority of them could pass as human and that they spent most of their lives on the mainland.¡±

    ¡°Surely, if the Golden Lance traveled to Mendel, there must be someone who knows her identity.¡±

    Bao nodded. ¡°You are right, but I personally did not have the pleasure of knowing her intimately. I can only recall one person who would be guaranteed to know-¡±

    ¡°Headmaster Corax,¡± Ember finished.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± the tortoise confirmed. ¡°Two mayors served during the height of the Aurelian Artery, but unfortunately, one has passed away, and the other retired to an unknown location outside of Mendel¡¯s walls.¡±

    Ember frowned, uneasy that the next clue to her mother¡¯s disappearance lay with Corax alone. Though she was not entirely distrustful of him, she was aware that he acted in the interest of a complex strategy, one that might not always align with her own interests.

    ¡°Thank you, professor,¡± Ember said, re-shouldering her bag and slipping out of the classroom.

    Even in the chilly, crisp air, Ember felt as though her chest was tightening. She pulled her fang knife from its sheath, watching as the light reflected its intricate patterns and remembering the strange sense of familiarity she had experienced on the day that she had purchased it. It was as if it were made for her: both the way that the hilt sat too comfortably in her hand and the amber-covered compartment for storing venom. But when the shopkeeper¡¯s records had shown nothing of interest, she had chalked it up to an overactive mind.

    Now, she allowed herself to consider that the knife had belonged to her mother. The letter from Ember¡¯s father had explained that his wife had suffered from a chronic illness: that she was tired, ate little, and developed welts. Symptoms of an infection, perhaps, or¡­ a Linnaean with inconsistent access to the treatment.

    Ember shuddered. It wasn¡¯t the first time that the thought had crossed her mind, but it had been just a feeling¡ªnow, the mounting evidence was too great to ignore.

    She had been told that affliction was genetic. Hadn¡¯t her skin formed a welt where she had sliced off her scale for Orthus? Didn¡¯t her mother sneak through the window in her hallucinogenic dream, her golden eyes shining?

    Ember¡¯s mind conjured an image of her mother in front of a mirror, inspecting her body for scales and cutting them off one by one. Feeling ill, she leaned against a nearby tree for support, trying to remind herself that it was just speculation. After all, how could a single woman fulfill the epic task of hiding that she was Linnaean from her husband?

    She clutched her chest, her breaths coming quickly. If my mother was Linnaean¡­ and if, somehow, she served the Golden Lance¡­ my resentment for all of these years may have been misplaced. She would go soon¡ªno, immediately¡ªand find out exactly what Corax knew about her family history.

 56: Gloria Beaumont

    It wasn¡¯t until Ember was standing in front of the door to Corax¡¯s study that she realized that she did not have a plan. Am I just going to bust in and ask about my mother? What if he¡¯s in a meeting? She rocked back on her heels, looking at the nearest portrait on the hallway wall, which seemed to be arching a judgemental eyebrow.

    Calm down, Ember told herself. The key to dealing with Corax was not to tip one¡¯s hand unless absolutely necessary; she must be polite and avoid revealing her desperation with accusations. She took a deep breath, stealing herself, then gripped the iron doorknocker and tapped it thrice against the wood.

    There was a pause in which the sound reverberated through the treehouse, fading into an uneasy silence. ¡°Come in,¡± the headmaster¡¯s coarse voice called from inside.

    Ember pushed open the door. This time, her surprise was short-lived when her eyes alighted upon the array of oddities strewn about every surface. She passed display cases, stacked with skulls; scribbled diagrams that curled at the edges; and jars of flesh, preserved in formaldehyde. On the table where Corax had shown her the effects of viper venom, a half-finished experiment let off a thick white vapor. She lingered at a bookshelf, her fingers itching to seize the leather-wrapped tomes and demand they reveal the secrets of Corax¡¯s psyche.

    ¡°Ah, welcome in, Ember,¡± the headmaster called, and Ember was forced to turn away from the artifacts and step out into the center of the room. Light streamed through the windows of the upper story, illuminating the crow, who sat at the round table at the top of the velvet-lined stairs. He looked back at her knowingly, his pitch-black eyes glistening.

    Ember paused, registering with an air of disappointment that he was not alone; he was joined by a round, blob-like Linnaean with flaccid limbs and a pale, malformed shell hanging from his back.

    A bolt of recognition passed through her. It was the shooter¡ªthe Linnaean who had jumped in front of Corax on the night of the winter solstice and released the darts that impaled the priest. She masked her surprise quickly, knowing that it would be difficult to explain her presence at the delivery.

    ¡°This is Ember,¡± Corax explained to his associate. ¡°She¡¯s the viper I told you about; the first-semester valedictorian of the freshmen class and the one who incapacitated the margay.¡± Ember swallowed unevenly, nodding. ¡°Ember, this is Horace, a member of the Apex Association and a close friend of mine.¡±

    At the words ¡®Apex Association¡¯ Ember¡¯s attention sharpened. ¡°Good afternoon, sir,¡± she said, addressing what she thought was his face. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet-¡±

    The greeting died on her lips as the gelatinous mass in the seat turned toward her. Horace was not an attractive individual¡ªin fact, he was downright grotesque, with eyes that hung out of their sockets on stalks and flaps of soft tissue that oozed mucus. A marine snail? she wondered, detecting the faint smell of salt that hung over his person. Had she not seen what he was capable of firsthand, she never would have guessed that he was one of the most skilled fighters in Mendel.

    ¡°Humm¡­¡± Horace said, the loose skin around his jaw slapping unsettlingly together, ¡°Hello, child.¡±

    Ember struggled to find her bearings again. ¡°Forgive me for interrupting your tea,¡± she said, turning to Corax. ¡°When might you be available to meet privately?¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Corax said, waving a feathered hand, ¡°you¡¯re always welcome, here, Ember, and Horace and I were speaking about trivial matters. If you don¡¯t mind, we can talk in front of him.¡±

    Ember took a breath, her eyes sliding over to the snail. She had intended to speak to Corax alone, but upon further consideration, it would be foolish to waste the opportunity to ask another influential figure about her mother.

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, pausing when she realized that she was unsure of how to continue. ¡°I grew up in Mapel Valley, just outside of Vargas. My mother disappeared¨Cwell, left¨Cwhen I was ten,¡± she started, feeling as though she was making a mess of the whole ordeal by beginning in the wrong place. ¡°Eight months later, my father and I received a messenger from Vargas announcing her funeral. But it¡¯s more complicated than that.¡±

    Ember scrunched her face up slightly, her brain whirring as she tried to sort through what to say and what to conceal. ¡°My mother was¡­ a secretive person. She was afflicted with a chronic illness, and she snuck out often. The circumstances surrounding her death were suspicious, but no one would tell us anything¡ªnot her parents, and certainly not the authorities.¡± Corax was nodding patiently. ¡°I think¡­ well, with the timing of her disappearance, I believe that she may have worked on the Aurelian Artery.¡±

    ¡°What was her name?¡± the headmaster asked.

    Ember had been waiting for this moment. ¡°Gloria Beaumont,¡± she said, searching the crow¡¯s face for any signs of recognition. ¡°That was her maiden name.¡±

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    He appeared to consider it for a moment, but Ember¡¯s heart sank when his face morphed into an expression of pity, without a sliver of recognition. Her desperate gaze roamed over Horace¡¯s face, too, but she could not identify whatever expression lay there.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the headmaster said, ¡°but I didn¡¯t know her.¡±

    ¡°Are¡­ are you sure?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Corax confirmed, and the snail bobbed his head likewise. ¡°Is there anything else you would like to ask, child?¡±

    Even through her pain, Ember felt terribly patronized. Hell yes, there is! she wanted to shout. She wanted to know what he thought of the hostage situation; why he insisted she figure out everything by herself; why he had sent Jisu to a master¡­ but above all, why he was so damned difficult all of the time. Yet, she felt certain that he wouldn¡¯t answer any of those questions, either.

    ¡°No,¡± Ember replied, feeling hollow as she excused herself and disappeared down the staircase, her heart thumping erratically. It makes too much sense not to be true. Perhaps she was not Linnaean, then, but a human ally?

    Or perhaps he lied, a voice whispered inside her head.

    She swallowed unevenly. Having the crow as an enemy was unacceptable¡ªnot when he was the single most influential person in Mendel. Try as she might, she could not think of a reason why he would have lied to her about something as significant as knowing her mother.

    ***

    Ember rested her back against the cool wall of the training building, taking air slowly into her lungs. It was the day of the evaluation: the opportunity to earn her first stripe and move up a level within the intermediate class.

    The atmosphere was serious¡ªeven Ophelia, who usually poked at the students with her strange sense of humor, stood with her arms folded across her chest, business-like and commanding. A medic stood off to one side, his hand resting on a cart full of first-aid supplies.

    Closing her eyes, Ember assessed her condition. It was altogether better than she had expected: her wounds had healed, and after two weeks of grilling herself on the basics, her strength had returned. She felt more stable, too, and less inclined to elbow or¡ªgod forbid¡ªbite someone at the smallest indiscretion.

    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Ophelia called, drawing the class nearer to her. The students rose from their stretches, the tension palpable in the air. ¡°We¡¯re going to begin with our conditioning test,¡± she explained, gesturing for them to follow as she opened the double doors to the outside. A torrent of cold wind blasted the group, and Ember¡¯s eyes traced the still-grey horizon, thinking that it was far too early to be outside on a Sunday morning.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to start by running twenty laps, or five miles, around the entire complex,¡± Ophelia told the group. ¡°Everyone, not just those who will be testing.¡±

    That¡¯s to be expected, Ember thought, but picked up on several uneasy mutters from her peers.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Ophelia said, ¡°¡®Isn¡¯t it unfair to be evaluated on our fighting skills after conditioning?¡¯ I¡¯m sorry to tell you this, but your hardest fights aren¡¯t going to occur when you¡¯re in top form. I¡¯ve watched you all for months¡ªI know what you¡¯re capable of when you wake up fresh-faced. It¡¯s when your energy is stripped away that your true fighting prowess surfaces.¡±

    Ember inclined her head, remembering that Elliot had said something similar. ¡°Don¡¯t even think of cheating on your laps,¡± Ophelia added, ¡°because Roland, Michael, and myself will be watching quite diligently. Now, go!¡±

    Amid the jostling of bodies, Ember felt herself wake up¡ªenergy flooded her legs, a little stiff in the cold but not unwilling. She watched from the corner of her eye as Roland half-flew, half-climbed to the top of the training building, standing like a stark sentry with his arms crossed and his sharp eyes narrowed. Ember hadn¡¯t intended on cheating, of course, but she knew Roland would be on her in a second if she so much as cut a corner.

    Ember took the first laps at a steady jog, falling into place with Jisu at the front one-third of the group. She kept her mind keenly trained on her body: on how the blood flowed, warming her muscles; on her footfalls against the frozen ground; on her breath, which stayed even but stung a little in the cold. It was an easy run, compared to those with the reptiles, when brambles tore at her legs and hidden roots lay in wait to twist an ankle.

    The pack separated predictably, with those who had given into nerves and sprinted out ahead soon falling behind. Ember and Jisu were joined by Jamarquis, whose long legs seemed to carry him effortlessly, and several higher-level students whom Ember knew only from observation.

    The pressure began to build on the sixteenth lap. Ember listened as the carefully controlled breaths of her peers grew ragged along the edges, and she, too, felt the acidic burn of exertion begin to creep into her legs. When two of the older students took off at a sprint, Ember let them, preferring instead to save her strength for the fight to come¡ªknowing Ophelia, strategy and placement would both be taken into account.

    She crossed the line in fourth place, tied with Jisu. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she rested for a moment with her hands on her knees. When she stood to her full height, however, she was more invigorated than weary, now fully warmed up and restless with anticipation.

    The students gathered inside as they finished their laps. When the last student came in at the thirty-six-minute mark, Ophelia gave them five minutes to catch their breath before calling them to the center of the training floor. ¡°Today¡¯s evaluation will be a little different than what you¡¯ve experienced before,¡± she explained. ¡°There are a variety of levels represented by the ten students who are testing today. Therefore, instead of sparring with each other, you will be divided into groups of five.¡±

    She made a vertical slashing gesture with her arm, indicating where the group should be divided. The line fell directly between Ember and Jisu, separating them. ¡°You five,¡± she said, gesturing to Jisu¡¯s group, ¡°will be sparring with assistant instructor Michael first. And you,¡± she pointed at Ember¡¯s group, ¡°will be sparring with Roland.¡±

 57: The Viper vs. the Black Hawk-Eagle

    Ember stood in front of Roland, feeling the familiar surge of instinct that rippled through her veins whenever she had the misfortune of seeing him. His mouth was quirked in a disdainful sneer, and a single bead of sweat tracked its way down his temple. He had obliterated his last three opponents¡ªtoying with them, at first, drawing out their skills so that Ophelia could make an accurate evaluation, and then ending them quickly and decisively.

    As much as she disliked him, there was no arguing that Roland fought intelligently, finding his opponents¡¯ weaknesses and exploiting them within seconds. He had crept up the rankings to the 330s, which was technically below Freya, but Ember had little doubt that he would soon surpass her.

    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± Ophelia asked, and Ember realized that she and Roland had been staring at each other for the better part of a minute. She broke away awkwardly, an embarrassed blush creeping up her neck.

    ¡°We¡¯re natural enemies,¡± she said uncomfortably, just so that Ophelia wouldn¡¯t think that there was something more intimate between them.

    Roland shot Ember a foul look, and Ember rolled her eyes. Only he would be ashamed to have me as a natural enemy.

    Ophelia¡¯s eyebrows shot to her hairline. ¡°Is that so?¡± she asked. ¡°I should have guessed. Well, carry on, then.¡± Ember groaned internally. She had hoped, futility, that Ophelia might have moved her to Michael¡¯s group instead.

    After giving them another minute to prepare, the instructor clapped her spiny hands together. ¡°Remember, Roland, you¡¯re guiding the fight,¡± she reminded him. ¡°Ready yourselves.¡±

    Ember closed her eyes, centering her consciousness. She examined her body mentally, identifying which muscles were weary from the run and which were in top form. Rather than attempting to ignore it, she leaned into the familiar hyperawareness creeping up her neck and activated her infrared vision, watching as it flooded Roland¡¯s body with shades of yellow and orange.

    When she looked up, the raptor¡¯s eyes were fixated on her, half glazed over by instinct. In response, the muscles around her fangs throbbed painfully.

    ¡°You may begin,¡± Ophelia said.

    She had barely gotten out the last word when Ember darted forward, aiming her fist at Roland¡¯s face. Her knuckles grazed his skin, but then he was gone, his powerful wings propelling him five feet into the air.

    She spun around to face him as he touched down, engaging him with a combination of strikes. He responded instantly, blocking her roundhouse kick with an elbow and parrying her punches with a flick of his wrist. She kept close to his body, swinging a cutting kick at his thigh and then sidestepping as he countered, ready to snatch him from the air if he attempted to take flight again.

    They exchanged another round of quick, clean blows. Ember was doing well¡ªstable, steady, her technique crisp and nearly flawless. It would be enough; she would satisfy Ophelia and move up to the first level.

    She kept a tight hold on her mind even as instinct pushed at its corners. As she blocked a front kick with her forearm, she could feel the controlled power simmering beneath the surface of Roland¡¯s skin. She could smell his scent, warm, musky, and tinged with blood. When an opening appeared, she sent a tight jab at his face.

    She froze as his fingers closed around her fist. The corners of his mouth quirked upward, looking down at her with an infuriating air of superiority. ¡®Know your place,¡¯  his eyes said as clearly as if he had spoken the words aloud. He dropped her wrist like it was filthy, allowing her to retreat.

    Then, suddenly, it wasn¡¯t enough¡ªhe was holding back as he had with the others, and she wanted to push him, to be the one responsible for shattering his carefully calculated control.

    A surge of energy came from deep within Ember¡¯s chest. She attacked relentlessly, her fists aimed at Roland¡¯s jaw, his stomach, and his temple. He matched her, their breaths mingling as he blocked the strikes, the sound echoing across the training grounds.

    It was different than any opponent she had fought before. Instinct crackled between them like electricity, and she was aware of every part of him¡ªthe talons, still unused, gleaming at the end of his slender fingers; the sharp, arrogant eyes, dissecting her; the massive wings, stretched out slightly for stability.

    Ember sidestepped a hook, drawing nearer to him, and narrowed her gaze onto his. And then, she opened her mouth slightly, flashing her fangs in defiance.

    The raptor¡¯s eyes lit up with unbridled fury. His wings snapped open, casting a shadow, and beat with full force against her. Ember half-stumbled, half-flew backward, breathless with adrenaline but burning with pride.

    She stood to her full height, brushing herself off. Roland was staring at her, bloodlust rolling off of him in waves. The wind from his great wings stirred up the sand particles on the floor, whipping them into a frenzied sandstorm. Even from three yards away, Ember trembled beneath the pressure of each powerful stroke.

    She backed up slightly, panting for breath, and shielded her eyes against the dust. Her muscles were tense, rock-hard coils. She felt Roland more than she saw him, tasted the flavor of his anger and his fear on her tongue.

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    Ember lept forward. She shut her eyes against the sandstorm, relying entirely on her infrared vision. For a moment, she could imagine that his heat signature was that of a pureblooded bird¡¯s, and hers that of a viper.

    She tore through the gale of sand and wind so quickly that the world seemed to rearrange itself around her. She was a blur against Roland¡¯s side, her eyes springing open and fixing themselves on his face, her own bloodlust rearing its ugly head.

    They clashed brutally. Ember¡¯s bony fists found his flesh, pounding, and his talons tore at her shoulders and belly. She seized a limb, twisting it with all of her strength, but then she was thrown, hard, by one of the great wings.

    They attacked with pinpoint accuracy¡ªno energy wasted on inefficiency, and each move aimed to kill. Roland grabbed at her with all four talons, but she dove to the side one millisecond before she would have been ripped to mincemeat. As she found her footing, she became vaguely aware of the crowd that had gathered to spectate and of Ophelia, watching closely; but then there was no one else but them again, two fighters locked into a battle as ancient as the earth itself.

    Blood sprayed from her chest as Roland slashed his talons across her, shredding the fabric above her collarbones. She grabbed his arm, unbalancing him, and cracked her knee across his ribcage. He let out a guttural cry, and he was on her all at once, his talons pinning her against the coarse sand.

    His long fingers wrapped around her neck, choking. As the nails bit into her flesh, Ember knew that he had won¡ªthat he could rip her throat out if he wanted to. Still, she sunk her fangs into his forearm, relishing the look of pain that stained his features.

    The spell broke as Ophelia pulled him off of her, admonishing him. Ember panted, gasping for breath, as Jisu and Lance rushed to her side. Something poked into her lip, and she reached inside her mouth, tugging out her needle-like right fang in a glob of blood. She was reminded of the fight in which she had lost her canine tooth, although this time, she could already feel the new fang waiting to break the surface.

    Ember¡¯s eyes found Roland¡¯s, and her mouth broke into a painful smile. He was an utter wreck, shaking his head at Ophelia with one hand clamped over his ribs, his arm dripping blood from where Ember had bitten him.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Lance asked, his tone concerned, and Ember realized that she must look slightly deranged. She only nodded in response, unable to put her jumbled emotions into words.

    Jisu thumped her on the back, looking at her knowingly, and Ember noticed that the panther was also battered. ¡°How was your spar with Michael?¡± she asked.

    Jisu grinned, a little cruel and catlike. ¡°It ended in a draw.¡±

    ¡°Congratulations,¡± Ember said, not altogether unsurprised. Michael was not a ranker, but he was a skilled fighter¡ªa level two in the advanced class¡ªand he had fought Jisu after sparring with several of their other classmates first.

    ¡°Attention, everyone!¡± Ophelia commanded, and Ember looked away from her friends. ¡°As interesting as this is, it¡¯s time to stop gaping and continue the evaluation. Michael and I will test the rest of you ourselves.¡± She pointed to the students one by one, re-assigning them to a group. Ember noted with a hint of self-satisfaction how Roland stood off to one side, looking awkward and suitably chagrined.

    Soon, only Ember remained in the center of the training floor. The instructor¡¯s eyes softened, and Ember guessed that she had redeemed herself by remaining lucid in the face of her instinct. ¡°You¡¯ve shown me enough, for today,¡± Ophelia said. ¡°We can assess your weapon proficiency once you have healed.¡±

    Ember looked down at the wound on her chest. ¡°It¡¯s not deep. I can fight today.¡±

    An odd look kindled in Ophelia¡¯s eyes, and Ember felt certain she would refuse. Instead, she sighed, waving a hand in an expression of surrender. ¡°Okay. You¡¯ve already surprised me today, so I¡¯ll trust you.¡±

    The rest of the evaluation passed in a haze. Ember heard her voice raising in support of her friends; saw Ophelia¡¯s brightly-colored spines flashing hypnotically as she sparred the students; and tried to look properly contrite as the medic tutted over her wounds. Once she had recovered some of her strength, she sparred with Michael, putting up a decent enough defense before being disarmed. Then, finally, Ophelia once again called for the class to gather in the center of the training floor.

    The fireworm ran a hand through her hair, looking over the class as a mother hen might look over a particularly troublesome brood of ducklings. ¡°Today¡¯s spar yielded some unexpected results,¡± she began, ¡°but first, congratulations are in order. Out of the ten students that tested, six passed, and all of you pushed yourselves beyond your limits.¡±

    One by one, she called the successful trainees to the front, presenting them with their new stripes. As Ember had expected, Jamarquis and Lance advanced to the first level, one student earned her second stripe, and another was promoted to the advanced class.

    After announcing the four names, Ophelia paused. ¡°I was particularly impressed by two of you today,¡± she said. ¡°Although Ember was defeated, she held her own against a ranker for several minutes, and  Jisu reached a draw with a member of the advanced class. Both trainees also showed remarkable proficiency with their weapons. This was especially admirable considering that they joined us only two months ago.¡±

    The class broke into agitated murmurs, and Ember shot Jisu a look of apprehension, but the panther was sitting with a straight back and a confident set to her shoulders.

    Ophelia cleared her throat. ¡°In light of this, I believe that the only course of action is to promote them both to the third and final level of the intermediate class.¡±

    Ember¡¯s mouth dropped open slightly, and she sat in stunned silence until Jisu¡¯s warm hand enclosed her own, pulling her toward Ophelia.

    The instructor offered them a proud smile. ¡°Here you are,¡± she said, presenting them each with three black stripes.

    Ember clutched the fabric in her hand as she clasped Ophelia¡¯s forearm in a fighter¡¯s handshake. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said earnestly, ¡°what you said really helped me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my job,¡± the fireworm laughed. She raised her voice above the noise, throwing up her arms. ¡°That concludes the first evaluation of the year!¡±

    Raucous yells tore from deep within the students¡¯ throats as they celebrated. A small group crowded around Ember and Jisu, and the panther wrapped an arm around her back, supporting her. She looked at her partner¡¯s bruised face fondly, a little light-headed but ecstatic at their victory. Although she still felt the burn of competition, she was glad that they were taking another step in their journey together.

    ¡°Come on,¡± the cat said, ¡°let¡¯s go to the infirmary.¡±

 58: The City of Sharp Edges

    Catherine pulled her hood lower over her eyes and drew up her skirt, hurrying down the long marble staircase. Her boots hit the stone with a muffled ping, and she looked over her shoulder, relieved that no one appeared to be following her. An unlit iron lantern hung heavily from her fingertips, stinging them with cold.

    In the gilded walls, she could see her blurry reflection. The cloak hung heavily off of her thin frame, and the skin over her cheekbones was taut and sickly pale, not unlike that of her mother. She shrank back into herself, wishing that the clothes would swallow her whole so that her physical form would cease to exist completely.

    Catherine stuck to the shadows, hiding behind billowing curtains and dark corners, but it all proved pointless when she did not encounter a single servant on her path through the castle¡ªa testament to her family¡¯s loss of power. It was the first time that she had left the royal chambers in months, and it seemed as though no maintenance had been done in that time: the candles were burnt down to their bases, the wallpaper peeled at the corners, and hairline cracks were forming in the grand white statues. When she passed underneath portraits of her ancestors, she wondered what they would think of her sneaking about at night like a common thief.

    On the first floor, Catherine unlatched a window, dropping down into a rosebush below. Although it was not snowing, it was horribly cold, and the brittle branches snapped against her limbs as she detangled herself.

    She hurried through the remnants of the royal gardens. As she passed a decaying fountain, its water frozen in jagged spikes, she mourned a time when the grounds had been less of a graveyard: when she had walked through the vibrant, well-maintained floral displays holding her mother¡¯s hand.

    At the edge of the garden, Catherine used a low-hanging branch to boost herself over the low wall. She let out a choked gasp as she landed on the slick cobblestones, jarring her bony knees. Being trapped indoors had made her frail, and she had to pause to catch her breath, watching as the vapor detached itself from her lips and floated away, pulled apart by the wind.

    Though she held the lantern close, she dared not light it as she turned down the nearest street. It was quiet other than the scuttling of pests and the snorting of horses. Apartments loomed over the narrow streets, tall and narrow with slanted roofs. The architecture was unwelcoming, constructed entirely from grey stone, an amalgamation of corners and sharp spires.

    A clothesline snapped in the wind, startling Catherine, and she picked up her pace. The foul smell of excrement, both human and animal, made her pinch her nose shut with one hand. The tip of her boot touched something solid, revealing a frozen carcass that she hurriedly left behind.

    As she waded deeper into the city, shadowy figures materialized amongst the garbage heaps, their shoulders stooped with hopelessness¡ªharmless drunks, seemingly immune to the curfew. She passed a wraith-like man, his face so gaunt and paper-thin that she thought the wind might pick him up and blow him away. In his right hand, he clutched the neck of a liquor bottle.

    Judging it to be safe, Catherine lit the lantern and shielded it partially beneath the cloak. The streets appeared even more desolate in the low light, and rats scuttled outside the reach of the ray by the hundreds.

    She felt a burst of anguish at the state of the city, her bitterness initially pointed at the Holy Order. But in a burst of clarity, she considered that perhaps it had always been this way, and she had not noticed until she herself had given into despair.

    ¡°Ho, there!¡± someone said, and Catherine jumped, her hand rushing to pull down the hood. Her heart lept into her throat as she identified the man as a religious guard, clad in black fatigues with the symbol of the Goddess¡¯s wings on his bicep. ¡°It is four hours past curfew!¡±

    For the first time, Catherine was grateful that her appearance had changed so drastically. Her fingers trembled as she reached into a pocket of her cloak, pinching a gold coin. Drawing upon all of her courage, she picked up his hand by the wrist and pressed it into his palm.

    For a moment, his dark eyes stared down at the coin, and she feared that he would not accept it. Then, he turned without a word, his cloak sweeping in a wide arc as he resumed his patrol.

    Catherine let out a sigh, her relief quickly replaced by morbid glee as she realized that even agents of the Holy Order could be bought with ease.

    She took up the path with an increased sense of urgency. She had sent her maids away, feigning sickness, but it was possible that they would come to check on her during the night. To make matters worse, her clothes were proving inadequate against the cold, and her feet were beginning to feel like blocks of ice.

    As she walked, she remembered a time when she had snuck out of the castle as a teenager, her arm around a servant boy¡¯s; she had forgotten his name, but who he was had always mattered less than what he could do for her. Together they had walked the streets¡ªgone to the market and bought fruits as peasants might. Now, that day felt so far away that Catherine wondered if the memory belonged to someone else and she had inherited it by some happy accident.

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    About an hour had passed since she had scaled the garden wall when she arrived at her destination. The clergy house perched like a noble''s mansion atop a hill, connected to a gothic cathedral by a brick path. The windows were lit with yellow light, warm and welcoming, and Catherine shivered with longing.

    She extinguished the lamp and watched the compound carefully, her side pressed into the rough bark of a leafless oak tree. A single guard sat on the stoop, a bottle of gin in one hand and a cigar in the other. His head lulled to one side, and Catherine realized that he was unconscious; apparently, power had granted him the luxury of complacency.

    She crossed over to the other side of the hill, where she would be hidden by the cathedral, and squeezed through the iron fence. Her ribs caught on the bars, but she sucked in and pushed through with a pop.

    Once inside, she circled the brick building that served as the ministers¡¯ lodging, finding that the grounds were in considerably better condition than her own. If memory served correctly, the archbishop¡¯s chambers were on the bottom floor: even in her younger years, she had respected that he chose one of the most humble rooms even though he was entitled to the grandest.

    Catherine crouched low, peeking over the sill. The room was lit with a dull glow, and she could see bookshelves against the walls and a small cot in the center. She did not recognize the layout, but then again, it had been three years since she had visited the clergy house.

    She ducked lower as a boy entered, carrying a tray with a loaf of bread and a bowl of soup. He was dressed in the tight-fitting suit of an apprentice, a black tie tight around his throat. He placed the tray on the bedside table, sent a few words in the direction of the bed, and disappeared back through the door.

    Catherine lifted herself higher. There, on the white sheets, a figure lay prone with his arms and legs outstretched. He was bony and hollow-looking, the skin yellowed in the light. Her shoulders tensed: somewhere in the face of the sickly old man, she saw the features of the archbishop.

    One of his fingers twitched, and Catherine watched in disbelief as it bent and beckoned to her. She glanced behind her, finding no one. After a moment of uncomfortable hesitation, she hid the lantern in the bushes and pulled the window open.

    She climbed through unceremoniously, cursing as one leg thumped against the wall, and scrambled to the side of the bed. Her heart sank as she got a closer look at the archbishop¡¯s face, and she thought that she must have imagined the gesture because was impossible that the man on the bed possessed a single drop of lucidity.

    She touched the papery hand, her eyes welling with inexplicable tears. Her relationship with the archbishop had been purely diplomatic, but he had been polite and so alive¡ªround in the face and belly, with crooked teeth and a kind smile.

    Then, suddenly, his fingers seized her own, and she let out a little gasp, trying to pull her hand away. But his grip was strong, and he tugged her closer, raising his mouth to her ear.

    ¡°Cath¡­erine,¡± he whispered, his voice raspy from unuse. Her other hand scrambled for the glass water on the table, and she brought it to his chapped lips. He drank, coughing most of it up, but swallowing a couple of drops.

    ¡°Archbishop,¡± Catherine said, keeping one eye trained on the door. ¡°I came to see you.¡±

    There was a small nod. ¡°Matthias¡­¡± he whispered, wasting no time, ¡°wants¡­ war.¡±

    ¡°War?¡± Catherine asked, her voice quick and nervous.

    His limp tongue flicked over his bottom lip. ¡°With¡­ the demons. He will¡­ destroy us all.¡±

    Catherine reeled back, her eyes wide. She had assumed that the bishop wanted to renegotiate the treaty to increase his power, but if he intended to pursue war with the Linnaeans instead, the very fabric of their reality would be rearranged.

    ¡°Ch..child,¡± the archbishop choked, and she turned her sunken eyes back to his. ¡°Flee.¡±

    She shuddered at the intensity of his gaze. ¡°From here?¡±

    He shook his head painfully. ¡°No. Leave¡­ Ciradyl.¡±

    A shudder went through Catherine¡¯s body. Perhaps she had not been the greatest ruler, but the city was her home, her life, and her everything. ¡°W-why?¡±

    A muted thump came from somewhere nearby, and Catherine whipped around. ¡°Go!¡± the archbishop commanded.

    Sorrow squeezed her heart like a vice, and she was overcome with respect for the man before her. He would die soon, either from his ailment or at the hands of the Holy Order, but he had warned her. He had raised his voice when they had discredited him¡ªthought him so sick that they hadn¡¯t bothered to lock his window¡ªand in that way, he had foiled them.

    She pressed a kiss to his hand, and then she was gone, climbing out of the window with an ungraceful haste. She rushed back to the castle, her mind reeling. If the archbishop could be brave in the face of death, she must follow his example: she would pack up her family, send a letter to her sister, and write a manifesto exposing Bishop Matthias from the safety of one of the northern city-states. Perhaps Nekimir, she decided, comforted by the thought of being separated from the Holy Order by the Valram mountain range.

    The newfound determination was invigorating, and it covered up the sting of the cold. She wondered at the bishop¡¯s strategy, questioning why he would choose to expend so many resources to face an unknown power. But as she climbed over the garden wall once more, she remembered something her father had told her back when he had been lucid: that, sometimes, war breeds more unity than peace.

 59: Puppies & Parties

    Carn flopped back on the table, knocking over quills and scattering books. ¡°Ugh!¡± Ember exclaimed, digging a hand under his back to retrieve a crumpled scrap of paper on which she had been making calculations.

    ¡°Woah!¡± Naz echoed, snatching her mug a moment before the fox¡¯s swishing tail knocked it over. He sent them an upside-down grin, his mop of red hair scraping the library floorboards. Ember rolled her eyes, but she glanced around to make sure no librarians were around to chastise him for making a scene. The sound of subdued conversation drifted up from the lower floors of the library, but it was quiet where they sat, surrounded by leather-bound tomes and artifacts on hardwood pedestals.

    ¡°This is torture,¡± Carn groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. ¡°I wish I could kill whoever discovered all of these amino acids.¡±

    ¡°You only need to memorize these twenty,¡± Ember said, holding his textbook up to his face and pointing at the list of structures.

    He let out a disparaging wail. ¡°Twenty?!¡±

    ¡°Ask Charlie to study with you,¡± Naz said, gesturing with her quill, ¡°you don¡¯t listen to Ember and me anyway.¡±

    ¡°His grades are worse than mine,¡± Carn moaned. ¡°Why did I think it would be a good idea to change my major from scouting to education?¡±

    Ember leaned back in her chair, feeling a surge of affection for her friend. It was an overcast and chilly day, tense with the anticipation of the upcoming first round of exams, and she suspected that the fox¡¯s antics were an attempt to lighten the mood.

    She brought her mug to her lips, sipping her bitter tea. For a moment, it was uncomfortable against her new set of fangs¡ªespecially the metal-covered tips¡ªbut the sensation was quickly forgotten as the liquid warmed her belly. Her gaze slid over to the library window, and she looked at the ground far below: at the students walking between classes, exchanging words with each other; at the leafless oaks; at the small animals hunkered down in the cold. Then, inevitably, her mind settled on her parents, and she was overcome by a feeling of futility.

    ¡°What are you thinking about?¡± Naz asked, leaning toward her.

    Ember turned toward the pisces, raising an eyebrow at her perceptiveness. She set down the mug, placing both of her palms flat on the table as she thought of what to say. Then, in low tones, she recounted her conversation with Corax five days before. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think,¡± she concluded, a finger tracing a cut along her cheekbone, ¡°it felt like something was missing, but there were no signs that he was hiding anything.¡±

    Carn sat up, his expression growing serious. ¡°Do you think he would lie to you?¡±

    ¡°Why would he?¡± Ember asked. ¡°What would he stand to gain?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t pretend to understand the headmaster¡¯s motivations, but I can¡¯t imagine he¡¯d hide the truth about your mother,¡± Naz said. ¡°I¡¯ve always believed that he has our best interests at heart.¡± Ember shrugged hopelessly. ¡°Do you have any other leads?¡±

    ¡°Nothing concrete, but my history professor did say that one of the mayors she served is still alive, although he lives outside of Mendel¡¯s walls.¡±

    ¡°Do you know his name?¡±

    ¡°No, but I can ask Professor Bao.¡±

    Naz nodded. ¡°Give me a name, and I¡¯ll find out what I can about him.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember replied, knowing that the pisces was much more well-connected than herself. A couple of minutes passed in silence, and she sipped her tea again, reminded of when she had shared a similar drink with Orthus in the forest. Perhaps he knows something.

    ¡°In other news,¡± Naz said cheerfully, ¡°it¡¯s Carn¡¯s birthday on Friday.¡±

    Ember turned toward the fox abruptly. ¡°Really? Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡±

    Carn looked down, uncharacteristically sheepish. ¡°You have a lot going on, Ember. I didn¡¯t want to trouble you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s nonsense,¡± Ember said, jostling his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll always have time for both of you.¡± She blushed a little, but both Carn and Naz smiled at her. ¡°So, do you have any plans?¡± she asked, eager to move the conversation along.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I was thinking of having a small get-together,¡± Carn replied. ¡°Nothing crazy¡ªI had enough of that last semester¡ªbut maybe something with you guys, Charlie, and some of our other friends.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± Naz said, and Ember heard the gratefulness behind her words that Carn wasn¡¯t slipping back into reckless habits.

    ¡°I would offer my room,¡± Ember said, knowing she was the only one in a singlet, ¡°but with the other reptiles¡­¡± she trailed off, thinking about Charlie¡¯s small, bird-like body, and Marcus¡¯s overbearing manner. ¡°Maybe not.¡±

    ¡°No problem,¡± Carn said, ¡°we¡¯ll have it at mammalia. My roommate already agreed to it. Just bring yourself and some food¡ªand Ember, why don¡¯t you invite Morgan and Sebastian?¡±

    ***

    Balancing the tray of custards in one hand, Ember raised her fist and rapped on the door twice. Carn pulled it open with a good-natured grin on his face and a relaxed haze in his good eye. ¡°Come in, come in!¡± he said, ushering her inside. ¡°There¡¯s gin on the table.¡±

    The inside of the dorm room was lit by warm torchlight and filled with people. Morgan and Sebastian sat atop one of the two beds, speaking with Carn¡¯s roommate; two of Carn¡¯s mammalian friends stuffed their faces with hors d''oeuvres; and Charlie stood half-hidden behind Carn. A hand-cranked phonograph¡ªundoubtedly borrowed from the common room¡ªplayed an upbeat tune in the background.

    Ember set her tray down on the table amongst the other foods, turning to lean against the wall as she appraised the room. Since she and Naz had moved him in, Carn had made the space his own: posters of constellations¡ªpresumably drawn by Charlie¡ªwere tacked to the walls, a collection of outdoor gear sat on a shelf, and a desk overflowing with notes was pushed up against one corner.

    Naz took Ember¡¯s arm, startling her. ¡°Come meet Carn¡¯s friends,¡± she said, ¡°they¡¯re good conversationalists when they take a break from eating.¡±

    Ember hesitated. She wasn¡¯t in the habit of introducing herself to new people, and she was suddenly aware of her appearance: of the green and brown bruises; the scapping cuts left by Roland¡¯s talons; and last year¡¯s scars, cutting through the whiteness of her skin with unsightly pink. She wasn¡¯t usually embarrassed¡ªin fact, there was a certain amount of fighters¡¯ pride associated with the injuries¡ªbut she wondered suddenly how she would look through the others¡¯ eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not in the best state to be introduced,¡± she told Naz.

    The pisces looked at her strangely. ¡°They¡¯re Linnaean, Ember. They¡¯ll be impressed.¡±

    Ember paused, her lips pursed, and then shook her head slightly. ¡°Of course. What was I thinking?¡±

    She and Naz joined the others, and the time passed quickly, lost to conversation. The students mingled, telling stories, complaining about their workloads, and discussing the newest trends in the city. Ember caught up with Morgan, reminiscing about Hickory, and Sebastian looked over her fang knife to make sure that it was being maintained properly.

    Ember grew more relaxed as the evening depended, and she found herself sipping from a glass of liquor, thrust into her hand by Morgan. She was careful to stay alert, however, lest the incident with Charlie be repeated. The group of eight gathered around the small desk, where Carn played a round of chess against his roommate, the others taking sides and whispering advice.

    When several hours had passed, Charlie said something in Naz¡¯s ear, and she clinked a fork against her glass for quiet. ¡°Why don¡¯t you open your gifts now, Carn?¡±

    Carn sat down on his bed, surrounded by his friends. ¡°Mine first,¡± one of the mammals said, thrusting his gift into the fox¡¯s hands. Carn ripped open the brown paper, revealing a large jar stuffed with fermented fruits. He held it up, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

    ¡°That¡¯s my special brew,¡± the mammal said proudly. ¡°I call it burnjuice.¡±

    Carn uncapped the jar, pouring a little of the orange liquid on his tongue. He sputtered, his eyes watering. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s horrible!¡±

    Everyone laughed as he raised it to his lips again, managing to swallow a mouthful. Then, he was piled with gifts from the others: a new eyepatch, sweets, and a mask painted with the colors of his favorite ranked fighter. When it was Ember¡¯s turn, she presented him with a switchblade, the handle carved with the symbol of a tiny fox.

    Carn hugged her with one arm, beaming. ¡°Thanks, Em.¡±

    She smiled. The carving was crude¡ªshe had done it herself, her back bent as she labored by candlelight, but all of the effort was justified by the look on Carn¡¯s face.

    The fox looked up from examining the switchblade. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s Charlie?¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± came the soft response, and everyone turned to see the avian stepping back into the room with a bundle cradled in his arms. His small frame struggled with the weight, and Naz stood up to help him as he handed the package to Carn.

    The fox¡¯s nose twitched. The moment he unwrapped the blanket, a puppy with golden fur burst from inside, yipping and squirming in an effort to lick Carn¡¯s face.

    ¡°A companion animal,¡± Ember realized. Charlie¡¯s eyes were warm as he looked at Carn, and when Ember turned back toward the fox, the pure joy on his face took her breath away. He wiped his eye with his sleeve, tucking the dog close to his chest.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay with this?¡± Carn asked his roommate, his eyes still locked on the puppy.

    ¡°Yeah, man. He asked me first,¡± the roommate said, jabbing a thumb in Charlie¡¯s direction.

    The puppy leaped from Carn¡¯s arms, dashing toward the table of food, and the guests fell over themselves trying to catch him. Amid the wild rush that followed, Ember looked thoughtfully at Charlie. She hadn¡¯t noticed it before, but now she realized that despite their outward differences, Charlie understood Carn¡ªperhaps more than anyone else. She smiled at the little bird, and to her surprise, he nodded back at her, his hands resting against the back of the desk chair as he watched Carn happily.

 60: Capture the Flag Part 1

    Ember paused at the top of the hill, looking down at the ranked complex. The rising sun bathed the forest in red and orange tones, illuminating students running laps around the cluster of buildings. In the distance, Ember could hear the now-familiar sound of weapons clashing. With a twinge of nostalgia, she remembered when she and Jisu had stood in the same spot, ducking between the trees to spy on the advanced students.

    She started down the hill, using her infrared vision to monitor how her muscles were performing. Although the weather was beginning to thaw, the stress of the first round of exams had left her fatigued, and she looked forward to finishing whatever test Ophelia had in store for the Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain.

    ¡°Ember!¡± someone shouted, and she turned to see Lance jogging toward her with his pale hair pushed back by the wind. His clothes were unusually disheveled, and dark circles rimmed his eyes. He panted, raising a hand in greeting.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± she said, and the two began to walk side-by-side through the complex.

    ¡°Do you know where Instructor Ophelia wanted us to meet?¡± Lance asked. ¡°Her directions were a bit confusing.¡±

    ¡°She said to go behind the complex, but I can¡¯t imagine what she might be planning.¡±

    The two glanced at each other worriedly as they reached the edge of the forest. The trees behind the complex were wild and untamed, a barrier between the carefully cultivated vegetation of the university and the city. The forest floor was rocky and overgrown with underbrush, and the only trails had been left by wild game.

    Just as Ember was beginning to think that they had gone to the wrong place, her infrared vision detected a splash of color between the trees. Beckoning for Lance to follow, she followed the footprint to a clearing, where, strangely enough, the forest floor had been outfitted with a large wooden platform painted white.

    Jisu sat in the center of the platform, sharpening her knife. A handful of other students waited nearby, giving the panther a wide berth. Ember offered the cat her hand, pulling her to her feet, and gestured at the platform. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    The panther shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know. Sit down, I¡¯ll help you stretch.¡±

    As they warmed up, more students began to arrive at the clearing. Practical Combat had a few familiar faces from the intermediate class, but the majority were students that Ember had met during the course¡¯s first session. All were skilled fighters since Ophelia had made graduating from the beginner¡¯s class a prerequisite. Missing, mercifully, was Roland, his spot filled by a mild-mannered insect TA.

    Ember heard Ophelia before she saw her. Like a shepherd, the fireworm was leading a flock of students, a medic, and another assistant to the clearing. She broke off her conversation, making her way to the center of the platform and crossing her spiny arms over her chest. ¡°Good morning, everyone.¡±

    Ember nodded at her. Since Ophelia taught both Practical Combat and the intermediate fighter¡¯s class, the two had grown accustomed to seeing each other several times a week.

    ¡°Listen carefully,¡± the fireworm began, ¡°because I have planned something unusual for our exam. I know some of you are disappointed by our course thus far, but it was necessary to establish a baseline skill level before we could tackle more advanced tactics. Today, the one-month mark into our training, is the perfect opportunity to begin in earnest.¡±

    The more advanced members of the class broke into pleased expressions, and Ember felt a tingle of excitement.  For the first month of class, they had focused primarily on theoretical knowledge and drills, many of which Ember had found repetitive. Although that may be about to change.

    ¡°Today,¡± Ophelia said, breaking out into a grin, ¡°we¡¯re going to play a game. The rules are simple¡ªyou will be divided into two teams, and each team will be assigned a base with a flag. Whichever team captures the enemy''s flag and plants it at their base wins and is guaranteed an A grade. Team Blue¡¯s base is a half mile north, and Team Orange¡¯s base is a half mile south. Where we are standing now is the neutral zone, exactly halfway between the two bases: come here if you¡¯re injured, and the medic will treat you.¡±

    One of the older students, a pisces, raised a hand. ¡°Forgive me, professor, but capture the flag? Where I¡¯m from, we played that game as children.¡±

    There were a few snickers at his tone, but Ophelia only smiled. ¡°Many children¡¯s games were borne of war. You may not have realized it at the time, but capturing the flag requires strategy: a plan for offense and defense, as well as physical prowess¡ªspeed, strength, and stamina. In my version, you are allowed to stop each other by any means necessary, as long as it does not cause grievous harm. You may even use your weapons, provided they have been coated with rubber. Myself and my two TAs will be monitoring the field.¡±

    She tilted her head, checking the position of the sun. ¡°If there are no other questions, let¡¯s start now.¡± One by one, she assigned the students to the two teams. When she was finished, there were eight students in Blue and seven in Orange. Many of the intermediate students were split up, with Jisu placed in Blue, and Lance and Ember in Orange. Both teams donned colored jerseys, and Ophelia gave them the signal to start.

    Team Orange set off in a jog to the south. Ophelia had not told them exactly where to find their base, and an unspoken pressure hung over the group to locate the area and set up their defenses. The terrain, however, made traveling quickly impossible. Bramble-covered hills dotted the landscape, tree roots jutted out unexpectedly, and rocks lay in wait under piles of fallen leaves. Once, they had to slow down to cross a rapidly moving, frigid stream, rolling up their pant legs and pulling off their boots.

    The hike was too strenuous to exchange more than a couple words, so the only sounds were the crash of the underbrush and the team¡¯s labored breathing. Ember surveyed the five other members, noting who fell behind and who rushed out in front. She stayed close to Lance, anxiety bubbling in her stomach¡ªgroup work had never been her specialty, but she hoped the social ermine would be able to bridge the gap between her and the others.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    At the fifteen-minute mark, the leader came to a stop, and the rest of the group piled behind him. ¡°I think we¡¯ve overshot it,¡± he said, waving his arm hopelessly. ¡°I lost the pace count.¡±

    It¡¯s only half a mile, Ember thought, but as she looked around, she realized just how dense the forest had become: visibility was limited to about five yards, the sky above was blotted out by the crowns of the gargantuan trees, and the branch¡¯s movement in the wind had a disorienting effect. Suddenly, she regretted allowing the other reptiles to do all of the navigation on their runs.

    The pisces who had questioned Ophelia crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°I thought you said you were trained in wayfinding.¡±

    ¡°I am, but I lost track of my paces at the river. I told you, we were going too fast; it takes time to adjust for wind and slopes.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already behind,¡± the pisces said angrily. He stepped threateningly toward the navigator, and Ember noticed his build for the first time: he was very tall and heavyset, with thick skin and a wide mouth. It was nothing compared to Elliot, of course, but enough to make the other students keep a wary eye on him.

    Ember exchanged a glance with Lance. She had met many such arrogant, domineering personalities¡ªthe worst of them Roland. ¡°I¡¯m sure the other team is having the same difficulties,¡± the ermine tried to reason. He turned toward the navigator. ¡°If we go back to the river, can you pick up the count again?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°I have another idea,¡± Ember said. ¡°I¡¯m a decent climber. If we find a tall enough tree, I might be able to see the base.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d have to climb pretty high,¡± another student pointed out. ¡°That may take too long.¡±

    ¡°What other options do we have?¡± a female insect asked. ¡°I can¡¯t even see the sun. We¡¯ll start going in circles.¡±

    ¡°Can anyone else climb?¡±

    There were headshakes all around. ¡°Okay, then,¡± the insect said. ¡°I think I saw a tall fir just a moment ago.¡±

    She led them back a couple of yards, and sure enough, a massive evergreen pointed like a spire into the sky. Ember looked it up and down, finding it passable¡ªthe trunk was too wide to wrap her arms around, but there were plenty of branches to use as handholds and footholds.

    ¡°Can you do it?¡± Lance whispered, looking at her nervously. In response, she gripped the ribbed bark, pulling herself up to the first branch.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hurry,¡± she told the group. And then she allowed instinct to take hold, focusing only on her grip and the periodic expansion and contraction of her muscles.

    She moved much more quickly than she had just months before, startling birds and squirrels from their resting places. A familiar burn crawled into her muscles, and her skin prickled with sweat, but she kept her breathing steady and pushed onward. She stopped only once to rest, holding the nearest branch in a vice-grip as she panted. At least seventy feet below, the forest floor swirled unsteadily. She swallowed, continuing the climb the moment the black dots disappeared from her vision.

    Then, suddenly, the world opened up all at once. Ember felt the wind at her back, and she turned with a squint to see that she had surpassed the nearby trees. The gleaming gem of the sun bathed everything in a yellow glow. She hugged the trunk, standing up slowly. The forest below was breathlessly vast, and the sight filled her chest with white-hot adrenaline. Below her, the crowns of evergreen trees stabbed the sky like soldier¡¯s pikes.

    Without thinking, Ember made her way to the edge of the branch like a tightrope walker. The chill wind blasted her face, tearing her hair from its braid. She could see the white stone of the ranked complex, and further past, the edge of the university. Her eyes followed the road in the other direction, where it wound into the city and beyond, interrupted by the redwoods of the great wall. Above, a bird of prey angled itself over the horizon, catching a draft.

    For a moment, Ember was overcome by unreality¡ªby the urge to dissipate like vapor and leave the waking world behind. But then, when she angled her head downward, her infrared vision detected the tiny pinpricks of color that were her group members, and she remembered her responsibilities.

    What was I thinking? She shook her head. The base. I¡¯m supposed to be finding the base. She sharpened her gaze, combing through the trees for a splash of color. It wasn¡¯t long before she spotted it: a fleck of orange between the treetops only two hundred yards from where her team stood. Quickly, she memorized a list of landmarks before beginning her descent.

    She pushed herself hard on the downward climb, trying to make up for the time spent lost in her thoughts. She collapsed to her knees as her feet touched down, gasping for breath. Lance called to her, his voice distorted, and she felt his arm around her shoulders.

    ¡°Well, what did you see?¡± the pisces demanded, his leg bouncing restlessly.

    ¡°Just wait a damn minute,¡± Lance replied, and Ember held up a shaky hand for patience.

    As her vision cleared, she scanned the anxious faces of her teammates. ¡°That way,¡± she pointed, ¡°eastward. Walk along the fallen sequoia and you¡¯ll see a pile of grey stones, then a cluster of aspen trees. The base is just ahead. Go now, I¡¯ll catch up to you.¡±

    The pisces turned, leading the way. A couple of the other team members sent an appreciative nod in Ember¡¯s direction or looked at her with concern, but she waved them away, leaving only Lance by her side. She leaned against the tree trunk, holding her side as she waited for a cramp to subside. When she could finally draw enough air into her lungs, she and the ermine started toward the base.

    They found the team in disarray. The pisces was standing near the flag, shouting orders, while several of the other team members looked at him discontentedly. ¡°Your plan makes no sense,¡± an amphibian was saying. ¡°How can I be on offense if can¡¯t even lift the damn thing?¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyes moved between the amphibian and the flag. He was quite short, with a round belly and disproportionally small limbs not unlike Hickory¡¯s. The flag, planted in the center of the orange platform, was at least five feet tall and made from solid wood.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be lifting anything,¡± the pisces said exasperatedly. ¡°Just support me while I grab the flag.¡±

    ¡°Support you how? I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯m the weakest fighter here!¡±

    ¡°Why should you be the flag bearer?¡± a mammal interjected, addressing the pisces. ¡°You may be a strong fighter, but you¡¯re not fast, and I¡¯d like to see you fight while holding that flag.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we-¡± Lance started to say, but he was cut off as the mammal and the pisces continued to argue.

    Ember sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was the same for both Linnaeans and humans¡ªthe loud voices drowned out the others. She was already tired and frustrated, and the argument was like the sound of metal against a grindstone in her ears.

    She raised her voice. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked the pisces.

    ¡°Gunther,¡± he replied suspiciously.

    ¡°Well, Gunther,¡± she said pointedly, ¡°I may not have the answers, but I know we¡¯re never going to get anywhere if you don¡¯t shut the hell up.¡±

 61: Capture the Flag Part 2

    Gunther¡¯s mouth dropped open as he sputtered. ¡°W-well, I-¡±

    ¡°That was a little heavy-handed, don¡¯t you think?¡± Lance said under his breath, but Ember could hear the laughter behind his words.

    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to waste any more time,¡± Ember said. ¡°If I know Jisu, she¡¯s on her way here even if she had to come alone.¡± She turned toward the rest of her team, but the words died in her throat as she saw their expectant expressions. What are you looking at me for? I wanted to shut Gunther up, not take control of this whole operation.

    Lance came to her rescue. ¡°Who wants to be on defense?¡± he asked. Two tentative hands went up. ¡°Offense?¡± He and Ember raised their hands.

    ¡°I¡¯ll join, too,¡± the navigator said. ¡°It¡¯s not going to be easy to find the Blue Team¡¯s base.¡±

    Lance shrugged. ¡°That settles it, then.¡±

    I suppose I was overcomplicating things. Ember counted the group members as they split, realizing that two people hadn¡¯t chosen rules. ¡°You,¡± she said, addressing the amphibian, ¡°You didn¡¯t raise your hand. Do you have a plan in mind?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to help, honestly.¡±

    She appraised him: he had green-grey skin, a round belly, and a tiny tail. His eyes were wide and set far apart, giving him a permanently sheepish expression. She guessed that he was a frog, but a land-dweller, judging by the fact that he hadn¡¯t volunteered to climb the tree. ¡°What¡¯s your species?¡±

    ¡°Fowler¡¯s toad.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a toxin?¡± Ember asked, remembering the incident with the desert toad in the unaffiliated dorm.

    ¡°Yes, but it only works if someone bites me.¡±

    ¡°Any other mutations?¡±

    ¡°Nothing useful, really. Hiding and playing dead.¡±

    ¡°Can I see?¡±

    Looking embarrassed, the amphibian backed up against a tree, lowering himself between its roots. Before Ember¡¯s eyes, his large body merged with the forest around him, the dark patches on his skin mimicking fallen leaves and his bumps becoming indistinguishable from the rocky soil.

    Just as he was rolling over to play dead, Ember held up a hand to stop him. ¡°We can work with this,¡± she said, thinking aloud. ¡°You can spy on the Blue Team using your camouflage. We just need to figure out how you¡¯ll relay their movements back to us¡­ ¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem,¡± the amphibian said, a blush creeping up his cheeks. ¡°My species has a very¡­ distinct call.¡±

    Ember looked at him expectantly, and he grimaced, shuffling sideways so that he would be out of view of the other team members. She watched, fascinated, as his throat expanded to the size of his head, pulsated, and then released an ear-splitting wail not unlike that of an infant.

    Ember clapped her hands over her ears. ¡°Wow,¡± she said, ¡°that¡¯s horrible.¡± The toad looked at her sadly, and she quickly backtracked. ¡°It will work perfectly, though. Why don¡¯t you go talk with the others? Maybe you can develop different codes to inform them of the other team¡¯s position.¡±

    As he waddled away, Ember turned her attention toward the last member of her team¡ªthe pisces, Gunther, whose arms were crossed over his chest and his face blotchy red with anger. She sighed, dragging a hand over her forehead. I¡¯m not cut out for this.

    She approached him cautiously, assuming what she hoped was a neutral expression. His bravado had faded since her outburst, and no one had paid him any mind since.

    ¡°Come to tell me what to do?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No,¡± she replied, ¡°but we¡¯ll need everyone¡¯s skills if we want to win.¡±

    ¡°Your plan won¡¯t work,¡± he said.

    Ember resisted the urge to roll her eyes, deciding to humor him. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just let people pick their positions¡ªnow our defense is unbalanced. The people on Team Blue are mostly offensive fighters, and they¡¯ll probably opt for an all-out attack.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Although delivered in an almost unbearably smug tone, Ember had to admit that he might have a point. ¡°Why don¡¯t you be the fourth defender, then?¡± she asked. ¡°You have a large build, and I heard you¡¯re a strong fighter.¡±

    ¡°And trust you to bring back their flag?¡±

    ¡°The terrain here is rough, and whoever grabs the flag is going to have to move quickly and agilely,¡± Ember explained, frustration biting into her words. ¡°Besides, Lance and I aren¡¯t suited for defense¡ªwe¡¯re lightweights, and we don¡¯t have natural armor like you.¡± She gestured at his tough skin pointedly. ¡°This arrangement makes the most sense.¡±

    The pisces narrowed his eyes, and Ember took a wary step back. Then, he pushed past her without another word, joining the defensive group on the wooden platform. As the tense outline of his back receded, Ember dried her forehead with the hem of her shirt. Did I make the right decision?

    ¡°Hey,¡± a voice said softly, and Ember felt Lance¡¯s hand on her shoulder. The navigator stood by his side, holding rope in one hand and a compass in the other. ¡°You ready?¡±

    Ember nodded, praying that she wouldn¡¯t have to counsel anyone else for the rest of the game; in fact, she decided conclusively that fighting would be preferable to another moment of talking.

    ¡°This way,¡± the navigator said, leading them away from the orange base and back into the dense forest.

    The three Linnaeans moved gracefully, the sound of their gentle footfalls easily drowned out by the wind. The navigator took his time, denotating every one hundred yards with a spot of red paste. Ember kept count of their paces in her head, her anxiety spiking as the minutes ticked by. The mile-long hike was just as difficult as the path to the orange base, and their progress was slowed by freezing streams, tangled underbrush, and fallen trees.

    About three-quarters of the way to the Blue Team¡¯s base, Lance held out an arm to stop Ember and the navigator. His small nose twitched. ¡°There¡¯s someone nearby,¡± he whispered almost imperceptibly.

    The three crouched, sneaking closer to the source of the smell. As they came around the trunk of a redwood, Ember detected a trace of an infrared signature. She pointed, gesturing for them to hide behind a cluster of rolling roots. Just ahead, a hairy mammal was sitting against a treetrunk with his legs outstretched and a knife in his lap.

    Ember glanced at Lance, signaling with her chin for him to approach on the other side.

    The mammal¡¯s ears twitched, and he opened his mouth halfway, but it was too late¡ªthey were on him in an instant. Ember¡¯s arm snaked around his neck, immobilizing him in a choke while Lance kicked the knife out of his reach.

    The mammal flailed as he struggled to escape, and a garbled noise rose in his throat, but Lance clapped a hand over his mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t scream,¡± he warned.

    The ermine glanced at Ember, and she could read the question in his eyes: ¡®What the hell do we do with him?¡¯

    ¡°Listen,¡± Ember said, hoping she sounded suitably threatening, ¡°you have two choices. Either you surrender and return to the neutral zone, or we tie you up here and you wait however long this game takes to end.¡±

    The mammal seemed to consider it for a moment, and Lance took his hand slowly away from his mouth. ¡°Fine,¡± he signed. ¡°I¡¯ll go back.¡±

    Lance tucked the mammal¡¯s knife into his belt as the navigator bound his hands loosely with rope. ¡°Sorry, but I have to hold onto this for now. You¡¯ll have it back after the game¡¯s over.¡±

    The navigator pointed the disgruntled-looking mammal toward the neutral zone, and they watched until they were satisfied that he wasn¡¯t returning to the Blue Team¡¯s base.

    When Lance, Ember, and the navigator took up the trail again, the atmosphere was ripe with anticipation. ¡°It won¡¯t be long, now,¡± the navigator whispered.

    They started as a distant scream split the air, and Ember took a panicked half-step toward it before recognizing the amphibian¡¯s cry. It sounded out five times more in quick succession, punctuated by the sound of branches cracking and pine needles rustling.

    She looked worriedly at the others. ¡°Should we go back? They¡¯re attacking with six of their members.¡±

    Lance shook his head with a frown. ¡°We¡¯re too close¡ªwe have to trust the others. And accounting for the guy we just sent back, there¡¯s only one person on their defense.¡±

    They crept forward, and the blue platform quickly came into view. Sitting against the flagpole was a broad Linnaean, his back turned. Above his head, the blue flag snapped in the wind.

    ¡°He¡¯s not paying attention,¡± Lance said hopefully.

    ¡°Careful,¡± the navigator stopped him, ¡°that guy¡¯s in the third level of the advanced class. He¡¯s known for being a great defender.¡±

    ¡°Species?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°Elephant,¡± the navigator replied, and Ember vaguely remembered a large Linnaean with a rough grey hide and a thick trunk. I should have paid more attention¡ªI didn¡¯t realize we¡¯d be fighting each other.

    ¡°You¡¯re the stronger fighter,¡± Lance whispered. ¡°You attack from behind and I¡¯ll go for the flag.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help where I can,¡± the navigator added, drawing his blunted blade.

    With a nod at her teammates, Ember crept through the treeline until she was within reach of the platform. Even from behind, the defender was mountainous¡ªeven larger than Elliot. She did a quick assessment: a rushed infrared scan revealed nothing of note, but his neck was exposed and there was no weapon in his meaty hands. I¡¯ll strike him in the back of the head, she decided, that¡¯s my best shot at knocking him out or stunning him.

    She darted forward at maximum speed, her eyes fixed on her target. She lifted a knee, prepared to drive it straight into the base of his neck at about half-strength.

    Just before the moment of contact, the defender¡¯s torso shifted, and she found herself looking unexpectedly into a pair of grey eyes. She fumbled midair, but it was too late to change her course as a pair of white tusks caught her in the shoulder, flinging her across the platform like a rag doll.

 62: Capture the Flag Part 3

    Ember let out a choked half-scream, half-cough as the side of her body connected with the ground. She scrambled to her knees, forcing her eyes up in case another attack was coming. Between the black dots that spotted her vision, she watched the defender right himself, balanced by the heavy tusks. To her surprise, he made no effort to pursue her, instead re-assuming his stoic stance with his back against the flagpole. Her eyes traced his large hands¡ªnow smeared with her blood¡ªand belatedly, she realized that he placed them against the ground deliberately to sense the vibrations beneath.

    A snow-white blur rushed toward the defender, and Ember shouted a warning, but Lance was already upon the elephant. He attacked from the front, his canines bared and his fur standing on end, but his rubber-coated knife bounced harmlessly off of the leathery hide.

    The elephant shook off the ermine like he was nothing more than an insect, and Ember had the unique experience of watching her friend fly across the clearing, head over heels. He landed in a crouch, far more ceremoniously than her, his face breaking into grimace.

    ¡°All right, Ember?¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she panted, gripping her shoulder with one hand and weathering the pain radiating across her torso.

    Lance angled his head toward the defender, once again asking a wordless question. Ember winced, holding up a finger to indicate that she needed a moment to think. Luckily, the elephant seemed uninterested in pursuing them, content instead to watch and wait.

    Ember felt a spark of inspiration as she recalled their strategy against the Blue Team lookout. If she was right, Lance would be able to understand her plan without communicating verbally. She pointed at him and then to her ankles, paused, and then indicated herself and mimed a headlock. He gave a small nod, and she responded with an appreciative half-smile.

    She counted down with her fingers. Three, two, one.

    Lance took off a moment before Ember. He attacked from the front, his graceful strides carrying him quickly across the clearing. He sprang into the air, his lean muscles tensed, seemingly poised to strike the defender in the head. Then, at the last moment, he twisted in mid-air, diving toward the elephant¡¯s ankles.

    Ember was already in motion. She felt the contraction of her muscles, imagining the invisible line running through her leg and into the earth beneath. She jumped explosively, wrapping her arms and legs around the elephant¡¯s thick neck at the same time that Lance gripped his Achilles tendons. They locked eyes as Lance wrenched the defender¡¯s legs forward and Ember threw her bodyweight backward in a modified version of a move that Elliot had taught her: the ankle pick takedown.

    It was a simple matter of physics. The defender reeled, trying to recover his balance, and Ember let out a shout of triumph. His weight slumped against the flagpole, and the wood cracked and then snapped in two. He fell to his buttocks heavily, the thump reverberating through the clearing.

    Ember had the elephant¡¯s throat firmly, now, and he was too preoccupied with keeping his torso upright to figure out how to dislodge her. She constricted with all of her strength, her arms tightening around his windpipe as her legs held her in place. Yes¡­ just a bit longer¡­

    The seconds ticked by. Ember¡¯s arms began to quiver, and then to shake. Then, to her shock, the elephant planted one foot firmly on the platform, heaving his bulk upward. Ember struggled to hang on as he shook himself like a wet dog. As if realizing that she was still attached, he batted at her blindly, his meaty trunk making contact with the side of her head with a crack. She fell painfully from his shoulders. Lance, who was trying to extract the flagpole from beneath the elephant¡¯s feet, was dispatched with a firm kick to the ribs. He groaned, blood leaking from between his teeth.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Ember cursed, making eye contact with the defender, who had retrieved the top of the broken flag. She couldn¡¯t believe that he had resisted the choke, which had been successful even against Elliot. His face changed slightly, and Ember realized that his expression was one of amusement. He pointed a finger in the direction of the neutral zone, inviting them to give up.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Ember¡¯s face reddened, and she had to stifle a scream of frustration. He¡¯s just a student, and it¡¯s two against one! We should be able to beat him easily.

    She pulled herself to her elbows. Nearby, Lance took a couple of gasping breaths. He pulled his shirt up, revealing a rapidly reddening patch over his ribs, at least one of which was probably broken. He coughed, once, his eyes watering, but gave Ember a shaky thumbs-up.

    We can¡¯t take much more of this, Ember realized. I need to think. She took a couple of calming breaths, dispelling her anger. The elephant was an excellent defender: he kept focused on the flag at all times, his heavy trunk and tusks helped him stay balanced, and he didn¡¯t waste energy blocking blows that he knew wouldn¡¯t do any damage. It¡¯s like dashing oneself against a cliff, Ember thought dejectedly.

    She rubbed her head, slightly disoriented from being struck with the trunk. Seemingly unbidden, a trace of a memory rose into her mind: a scene from her childhood in Mapel Valley, deep in the throws of winter. On their snow-covered farmland, a pair of starving wolves had chased down and fought a moose that stood three times their height. Ember watched from the window as the wolves nipped at its legs, clawed at its hide, and hurled themselves at its mountainous sides, their growls drowned out by the moose¡¯s bellows as the snow beneath it turned red with blood. Its antlers had caught one of the wolves in the stomach, goring it, but the distraction allowed the other wolf to tear a hole in its neck.

    Ember began to formulate another plan, riskier than the first. Even if she and Lance could wear the elephant down, it wouldn¡¯t be enough; the blue offensive team would probably overwhelm her team¡¯s defenders first. She needed something else¡ªsomething unexpected.

    She activated her infrared vision, scanning the forest for the navigator. He was hunkered against the trunk of a nearby tree, his wide, fearful eyes trained on hers. She felt a pang of resentment before realizing that his timidity might be the plan¡¯s saving grace.

    She checked that the defender wasn¡¯t watching her before pointing to a tree across the clearing and making a lassoing motion with her hand. The navigator wasn¡¯t as quick-witted as Lance, and she had to repeat the motions several times before he understood.

    She noticed the ermine looking at her in his peripheral vision, and his chin dipped slightly. Ember felt a renewed sense of determination knowing that he was willing to follow her even after their previous attempt had failed. She stood, the offensive team¡¯s signal to mount what would be¡ªfor better or for worse¡ªtheir final attack.

    Ember and Lance charged at the navigator again. This time, they met mid-stride before they reached the elephant. ¡°Keep your distance,¡± Ember said into his ear, ¡°don¡¯t let him hit you!¡±

    They attacked with rapid, glancing blows, aiming for the sensitive spots on his body. At first, the elephant weathered them without blocking, one hand clamped over the flagpole, but the irritation soon grew too much for him to bear. He shook with annoyance, reaching out an arm as if to sweep them away, but they retreated too quickly.

    Ember rolled under a blow, the wind from his heavy fist ruffling her hair, and came up next to Lance. ¡°Lure him back,¡± she whispered. He gave a quick nod, his eyes trained on the defender. It was a plan inspired by far more skilled fighters than herself: they would pick at him like the wolves with the moose and then trap him as Arachna had with Benjamin.

    They stayed just out of his reach, taunting him. He took one step, then two, giving in to frustration. When Lance¡¯s sharp teeth nicked the skin above his hip, he charged forward, pushing the ermine aside as though he were made of paper. His beady eyes turned to Ember, and he stepped forward as if to squash her, now within arm¡¯s reach of the tree. ¡°Take him down!¡± she shouted, praying that the navigator had made it in time and that the elephant had been too distracted to notice him.

    Once again, Ember leaped to the elephant¡¯s head as Lance grabbed his feet. This time, though, the defender saw the move coming, and he sidestepped before the ermine could grab him with a self-satisfied expression on his face. Ember smiled grimly¡ªher misdirection had worked. She fought to maintain her perch on his shoulders, keeping a watchful eye on the trunk and the tusks. ¡°Now!¡±

    The looped end of a rope dropped from the branches above her head, and she hurriedly tugged it over the giant¡¯s right tusk. His arm flew up to dislodge her, but she jumped free just as the navigator pulled the rope taut.

    The elephant¡¯s body jerked backward as he lunged forward to attack Ember, tethered to the tree like a dog on a leash. His weight worked against him; the navigator had anchored the other end of the rope to a thick branch, and the more the defender struggled, the more it tightened around his tusk, unbalancing him. His grip on the flag slackened for only a moment, but Ember was prepared. She grasped the fractured flagpole with all of her strength, ripping it from his hands¡ªand then, without a second glance, she took off for the Orange Team¡¯s base.

 63: Capture the Flag Part 4

    Behind her, Ember heard the sound of wood splintering as the branch gave way to the elephant¡¯s strength, but she knew that he had no chance of catching her. Now that the navigator had shown her the path between the bases, there was nothing to stop her as she sprinted over the uneven terrain, calling upon her experience training in the forest with the reptiles and the agility gifted to her by her mutations.

    She burned with adrenaline, the pain of her injuries left somewhere behind her. The cold stung her face and branches clutched at her uniform, but she was an unstoppable force, her footfalls punctuated by the flag snapping wildly in the wind. Lance appeared by her side, the bottom half of the broken flagpole held in his arms like a pike. They fed into each other¡¯s energy, sprinting over fallen trees, rolling roots, and frigid streams with perfect synergy.

    They were halfway to the base when Ember¡¯s infrared detected a group of Linnaeans ahead. She almost shouted a warning to Lance, but his nose was already pointed in their direction, twitching furiously.

    They plowed into the group at full tilt. The members of the Blue Team were deep in some sort of dispute, and Ember and Lance took them by surprise¡ªby the time they caught on, Lance had dispatched two of them, duel-wielding the broken end of the flagpole and his knife.

    Ember was already halfway past the group when she spotted Jisu in its center, the orange flag grasped in her fist. She was favoring one leg, no doubt Gunther¡¯s doing. Not bad, Ember acknowledged.

    Ember evaded an attempt to grab her, keeping an eye on Jisu and watching as her face took on a furious expression. The panther shoved the orange flag into her teammate¡¯s hand, shouting at him to run for the base, and took off after Ember.

    Ember sped up, glancing around for Lance, but the other offensive members of the Blue Team had collected themselves enough to keep him occupied. Meanwhile, Jisu was bearing down on her, the advantage of her leg injury nullified by the fact that Ember had to run carrying the flag. Still, Jisu was first and foremost her friend, and Ember couldn¡¯t resist adding fuel to the fire. ¡°Must¡¯ve hurt you to give that up, huh?¡± she yelled as she ducked underneath a leaning tree.

    ¡°Looks like Craig did a number on you,¡± Jisu shot back, presumably talking about her team¡¯s defender.

    ¡°H-hardly,¡± Ember panted, no longer needing to yell¡ªthey were neck and neck, now, and Jisu made an exasperated noise as Ember evaded her grasp. But barely a second later, the tip of the flag caught in a net of hanging vines, stopping her dead in her tracks.

    ¡°Oof!¡± she exclaimed as Jisu tackled her bodily to the ground. They rolled in a tangle of limbs, the flag caught up between them. Jisu extracted herself first, snatching up the flag, but Ember yanked her back down by her shirt.

    A melee followed. Ember was the better grappler by far, but she couldn¡¯t manage Jisu and the flag at the same time, and the panther¡¯s only objective was to stall for time. She had gone feral, writhing underneath Ember¡¯s grasp, sharp claws puncturing scale and skin.

    Ember struggled to create space between herself and Jisu. Sensing her intention, Jisu threw herself forward, her head connecting painfully with Ember¡¯s nose. Her face dripping with blood, Ember bucked her hips and swung her legs around Jisu¡¯s neck in a triangle choke. Jisu sank her teeth into Ember¡¯s calf, and Ember felt a warm spurt of blood beneath her pant leg.

    Ember tightened her grip. The panther¡¯s attempts to stand up were negated by Ember¡¯s weight advantage, and she was rapidly turning red in the face ¡°Stop¡­ struggling!¡± Ember panted, ¡°It¡¯ll be over in a second!¡±

    With characteristic stubbornness, Jisu fought until the very end. Then, finally, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped onto Ember.

    Ember dragged herself out from underneath her friend, staggered to her feet, and collected the flag. She repositioned the unconscious Jisu into a more comfortable position, then took off toward the base with a limp.

    The Orange Team¡¯s base was in disarray when she arrived. Several planks of the platform had snapped in half, and various blood-stained personal effects were strewn about the clearing. Gunther sat slumped against a tree, but the others were gone, a trail of blood leading back to the neutral zone.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    With a huff, Ember stabbed the broken flagpole into the center of the platform. She folded over with her hands on her knees, the pain returning in full force. She had half-expected something to happen¡ªsome firecrackers, or at least a shout of acknowledgment¡ªbut there was no such fanfare. What now?

    As if he had read her mind, one of Ophelia¡¯s assistants emerged from between the trees, a clipboard in one hand and a bird of prey perched on his shoulder. Ember¡¯s head jerked up¡ªshe hadn¡¯t detected a trace of him, and she chastised herself for not scanning the area with her infrared first.

    ¡°Well done,¡± the TA said, addressing both her and Gunther. He checked his pocket watch, scribbled down the time on a scrap of parchment, and attached it to the bird¡¯s leg with a piece of twine. It took flight, winging north. ¡°I sent the other students back to the neutral zone,¡± he explained. ¡°Ophelia will do her debriefing there. Ready?¡±

    Ember nodded, dazed but anxious to know who had won. She offered her hand to Gunther, and he begrudgingly took it, allowing her to haul him to his feet. They started the arduous hike back to the ranked complex in silence, Ember¡¯s shirt held firmly to her nose to staunch the bleeding.

    Most of the other students were already accounted for when the three arrived back at the neutral zone. Some sat sprawled on the platform, clutching their canteens as though they were their lifeblood. The medic was treating several injured students, but none of the wounds seemed grievous, especially from a Linnaean perspective.

    Ember waved at Lance, whose shirt was pulled up halfway as the medic bound his ribs with cloth. ¡°Didya get the flag?¡± he slurred.

    ¡°Thanks to you,¡± she said, sending him a wary smile.

    The last stragglers entered the clearing as Ember took a long draught from her canteen. She sputtered, expelling half of the water¡ªOphelia¡¯s TA led the group, carrying an irate Jisu piggyback-style.

    The panther said something in his ear, and he deposited her next to Ember. ¡°You should see the medic-¡± he started, but Jisu held up a hand, looking murderous enough to dispose of him despite the onlookers. He shrugged his shoulders in surrender, retreating to assist with the treatment of the other injured students.

    Jisu sat with her legs stretched in front of her, her arms firmly crossed and a don¡¯t you dare expression on her face.

    Unable to resist, Ember wiggled her eyebrows. ¡°He insisted,¡± Jisu scoffed, sending a rude gesture in Ember¡¯s direction. ¡°Said my ligament¡¯s probably torn and he¡¯ll take off points if I don¡¯t agree. Self-righteous bastard.¡± She tilted her head as if seeing Ember for the first time. ¡°Hey, did I break your nose?¡±

    Ember felt up the line of cartilage, but the tissue was too swollen to tell for certain. ¡°Not sure.¡±

    Jisu shrugged. ¡°My bad. Did they say who won?¡±

    ¡°Not yet.¡± She pointed her chin toward Ophelia, who was examining two slips of parchment. ¡°Soon, though, I think.¡±

    Sure enough, only a handful of minutes passed before Ophelia called for the class¡¯s attention. ¡°I¡¯ll skip the speech on how well you all did,¡± she said, ¡°I know you¡¯re eager to know who won.¡± She turned the slips toward them, which Ember now saw displayed two times. ¡°Each TA was present when the flags were planted at their respective bases, so I know these are accurate. Our winner is-¡± there was a collective intake of breath- ¡°Team Orange, by a small margin.¡±

    The cheer that went up was so loud that if Ember had not seen her team¡¯s wounds with her own eyes, she would have thought they were uninjured. Ember added her own shout to the mix, celebrating both the win and the end of the first round of exams.

    The debriefing devolved into chaos. The Blue Team groaned, asking about their grades, while a couple of Ember¡¯s teammates had taken up chanting her name. ¡°Can I keep the flag?¡± someone was asking.

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Ophelia shouted, and the voices quickly died down. ¡°Really, now,¡± she sighed. ¡°No, Billy, you may not keep the flag. To answer the better question, the losing team¡¯s grades will be evaluated on an individual basis depending on participation, strategy, and skill. I have a general idea of what transpired, but rest assured, the TAs and I will be speaking with everyone one-on-one before you leave to record your account of the game.¡± Her voice softened. ¡°In general, though, you all did very well.¡±

    The drop in morale was palpable as a grumble went up from the students, who were annoyed about their well-earned rest being delayed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get a fire going,¡± Lance suggested after a moment.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got tea leaves,¡± someone else chimed in.

    ¡°Biscuits, anyone?¡±

    Ophelia seemed to have no issue with them getting comfortable, so tinder was quickly located, a match struck, and biscuits evenly distributed. The classmates gathered together around the small fire, moving only to eat or join the instructors for their interviews, team feuds forgotten.

    Ember sighed, scotting up against a tree trunk and putting her hands behind her head like a pillow. Lance sat next to her, his eyelids quickly falling shut, and Jisu¡¯s shoulder rested against her own.

    You know, Ember thought, this isn¡¯t such a bad end to winter, really.

 64: Dawning of a New Order

    Catherine leaned back in her chair, avoiding her maids¡¯ eyes, afraid that they would see through her carefully-cultivated mask to the hope and despair beneath. Her head maid¡¯s fingers were tangled in her hair, deftly braiding the golden strands. Catherine winced as she pulled a little too sharply, causing a twinge of pain in her scalp. ¡°Forgive me, Your Majesty,¡± the woman said, sounding altogether unapologetic.

    It¡¯s okay, Catherine told herself, and it was because she and her mother had made plans to flee the castle that very night. She had spoken to the butler, the only servant she was certain was loyal to them, and he had agreed to disguise himself as a merchant and bring a horse-drawn carriage to sneak them out of the city. It pained her to leave her father, but he was a liability¡ªin a bout of dementia he could easily cry out and reveal where they were hiding. The choice was simple: leave him or die themselves.

    That morning, Catherine had sent a letter to her illegitimate sister, Rosalind, by crow. She had explained the threat of Bishop Matthias and her plan to flee to Nekimir, but most importantly, she had apologized for valuing societal expectations over their relationship and vowed to continue her correspondence. ¡®At this moment,¡¯ she had written, ¡®I now see that all of the fuss over one¡¯s manner of birth is meaningless.¡¯

    She had watched as the black wings disappeared over the horizon with a sense of relief. She had disguised the letter well, and the crow was a dependable messenger that her family had raised from a hatchling. She only hoped that her sister, whom she had not spoken to in many years, could come to forgive her.

    ¡°Margaret,¡± she said, ¡°can you bring me a cup of chamomile tea?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty,¡± the girl said, but something in her voice sounded off¡ªsinister, almost¡ªand Catherine turned to face her with her eyebrows raised.

    Suddenly, the nimble fingers in her hair tightened, yanking her head back, and something hard and cold was sliding between her ribs, penetrating deep into the flesh. Catherine screamed, her gaze falling, unseeing, on the dagger protruding from her body. And the blood, so much blood, staining the beautiful white lace of her gown.

    She swayed, toppling from the chair and onto the wooden floor. The ground was unyielding against her cheek, and she stretched one arm out for something¡ªanything¡ªthe other clutching at the wound. Blood pooled at her lips, and she sputtered thickly.

    There was noise above her: female voices, quick and cruel, having a conversation she was no longer part of. She opened her mouth, choked, and then tried again. ¡°Mar¡­garet? Em¡­ily? W-why?¡±

    The tip of a heel nudged her painfully, turning her over. The face that looked down at her was unrecognizable, impassive with a slight hint of distaste. ¡°You have been a dead woman for a long time, Catherine. We only needed to deliver you to the devil.¡±

    Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. ¡°And¡­ my mother?¡±

    The maid shook her head. ¡°Gone.¡±

    Catherine let out a wail. ¡°Hush,¡± another maid said, not unkindly. ¡°We¡ªno, he¡ªwas watching you. He knew everything from the beginning.¡±

    The implication was slow to reach Catherine through her pain-addled brain. The bishop had known: he had let her sneak out unmolested; had allowed her to speak with the archbishop; and had observed everything that she had considered terribly clever.

    Catherine lay bleeding out on the marbled floor of her bed-chamber, feeling shame beneath her sadness and pain. She had fumbled around, been too slow to act, and underestimated her enemy; in the end, she had saved neither her country nor her mother.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Her dying wish was that the bishop had overlooked the letter.

    ***

    Bishop Matthias¡¯s steps were quiet but assured as he walked down the aisle. His robes billowed behind him, and his shadow marched across the marble walls in parallel, distorted at the ends by the torchlight. A gleaming silver pendant, a pair of wings, hung low around his neck. It was raining outside, and the fat droplets drummed on the panes of stained glass. The terrible cold seeped through the building at the seams.

    The congregation waited with bated breath as he took to the pulpit. He cleared his throat, opened the Book of the Divine Goddess, and then turned his dark eyes to the pews.

    In the first rows sat the most influential people: the generals, priests, and politicians, their metals clattering every time they shifted like a herald announcing their status. At the rear was a smattering of carefully selected upper and middle-class civilians, the latter piled on top of one another in a contest for space.

    The listeners were breathless with anticipation, not unlike children waiting for their matron to read from a storybook. Matthias knew this, and he relished how they fidgeted; how they stared at him with eyes filled with admiration and a hint of fear.

    ¡°Today,¡± he said heavily, ¡°has been a tragic day.¡± He spoke in an even voice, neither loud nor softly, so that even the most important members of the congregation had to lean forward to hear him. ¡°We had long suspected that the royal family was being tempted by the devil, but after the events of the winter solstice, I¡ªby the order of the archbishop, of course¡ªcarried out an investigation. The results revealed the royal¡¯s gluttony and sloth, along with their unwillingness to face the growing shadow in the south. When confronted, they fled in the night.¡±

    There were shocked murmurs amongst the commoners, who had heard nothing of the royals¡¯ disappearance,  but they quickly quieted, knowing that their attendance was contingent on their good behavior. The time to speak would come later, from the safety of the local pub or their own four walls.

    ¡°With the help of the butler,¡± Matthias elaborated, ¡°the youngest royal, Catherine, conspired to sneak her parents from the castle in a merchant¡¯s cart. In preparation, she pillaged the palace¡¯s stores like a common thief, taking all a manner of valuables: documents, gold, and national treasures.¡± The corner of his mouth twitched downward, as if he was unable to contain his disgust. ¡°This we discovered in the morning, but their intended trajectory is not known¡ªperhaps they have gone north, where it is unlikely that they will survive the wrath of the Hecatomb Mountain Range in winter; or perhaps they have fled into the arms of the beasts they so wished to protect.¡±

    He let the implication lay in the air. His eyes probed the front row of generals, searching for any indication that they may not be loyal, but he found no animosity in their expressions. As he had expected, the reaction to the royals¡¯ supposed cowardice was more potent than the reaction to their deaths would have been, and he had already ensured that the circumstances of the royals¡¯ murder would not be revealed: the palace maids had been dispatched that same morning, and their killers had been ordered to commit suicide in the name of the Divine Goddess under the bishop¡¯s own watchful eye.

    Once a suitably uncomfortable amount of time had passed, Matthias raised his voice again. ¡°Unfortunately, this is not the only tragedy to befall us today,¡± he said, looking somber. A lonely tear detached itself from his eye and plopped onto the pulpit. ¡°Last night, my colleague and old friend the archbishop lost his long battle with the Winter Fever.¡±

    The uninformed attendees gasped, some going as far as to wail. Matthias let the theatrics go on for some time before pulling a scroll from his robes, which he unrolled with bony fingers. ¡°It is with a heavy heart that I must turn to political matters. As you know, I am next in line for succession. I will now hear objections if anyone should have them.¡±

    There was silence. He made a show of looking around the room. No one would dare to object, of course¡ªnot when the news was too fresh to know the others¡¯ opinions, and speaking out could risk one¡¯s position, especially when the issue in question involved a man appointed by the Goddess herself.

    ¡°I have long been discontent with the state of our nation,¡± Archbishop Matthias said, now pacing along the front of the cathedral, eyes suddenly dry. ¡°Our own sins give rise to Linnaeans among us, and in a backward sequence of events, we hand-deliver them to their cursed city.¡±

    A draft blew out the candle nearest to his side, and half of his face fell into shadow, obscuring the madness beneath. He raised his arms to the sky, and his voice boomed loud and fearsome. ¡°A message has come to me from the Goddess herself. She will lend us her strength if only we will accept it. She will give us the power to wage war¡ªthe power to vanquish the demons for once and for all!¡±

 65: Regicide

    The news descended upon Mendel overnight, tied to the legs of messenger birds sent by the city¡¯s spies. On Monday morning, the papers presented the royals¡¯ flight and the former archbishop¡¯s death in a flat, objective tone on the second page, after an announcement of the lineup for the spring tournament. Most Linnaeans reacted as you might to the death of a distant cousin: wanting to talk; to discuss; but not going as far as to grieve.

    Ember heard them as she threw her coat over her shoulders, passing the reptile common room on her way to class, the newspaper clutched in her whitening fingers. The fear she had felt on the night of the winter solstice returned in full force, and she could taste it strong and bitter on her tongue. It seemed that she, alone, recognized the true meaning of the news: the balance of power had shifted irreparably in Ciradyl, and compounded with her father¡¯s warning about the increasingly stringent religious laws, the timing hardly seemed accidental.

    The day¡¯s lectures were long and painful. Some of the students were missing, having gone to the city to speak with their parents, but the remainder gossiped to each other in a manner that grated on Ember¡¯s nerves.

    Later, she sat at a table outside of the library, picking at a plate of shredded pork. Over time, as her metabolism shifted towards that of an ectotherm, she no longer needed to eat three meals a day. Even so, her friends were looking at her with wide, concerned eyes.

    ¡°Are you-¡± Carn started to say, but he was cut off as Naz kicked his shin under the table.

    ¡°Do you want to try getting another letter to your father?¡± the pisces tried.

    ¡°It¡¯s no use,¡± Ember said, more viciously than she intended. ¡°Our house was being watched even before the coup d''¨¦tat.¡± She looked down at the table, gritting her teeth and feeling the muscles above her fangs pulse irregularly, unwilling to voice her fear that her father had already been imprisoned, or worse.

    ¡°Coup? Didn¡¯t the royals flee voluntarily?¡± Carn asked.

    Ember shook her head, frustrated that her friends didn¡¯t see what she did. ¡°They tried to keep it a secret, but it was common knowledge that the king was ailing,¡± she explained. ¡°It seems unlikely that they would choose to displace him now. No¡ªthey were driven out.¡±

    ¡°But still,¡± Naz pointed out, ¡°Worst case, even if the new archbishop¡ªMatthias?¡ªwanted to go to war, it¡¯s not like he could do it on a whim. Ciradyl may be large, but their army isn¡¯t enough to take on Mendel.¡±

    ¡°The Holy Order is in direct opposition to Mendel,¡± Ember said, placing the salt and pepper shakers opposite each other to orchestrate her point. ¡°Their platform is based on hatred of us, ¡®the demons.¡¯ With them in power, we can¡¯t coexist.¡± She pinched the pepper shaker between two fingers, using it to bowl over the other, and white granules spilled across the table. ¡°If Matthias doesn¡¯t declare war on us, it would be akin to suggesting the Holy Order¡¯s doctrine is wrong. Like allowing the devil to spawn from one¡¯s own land.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Carn mused. ¡°But the old regime was hardly fond of Linnaeans either, and they managed to tolerate us. There was a bit of an uproar three years ago when Bayport went through a revolution, but in the end, Mendel was hardly affected.¡±

    Even though Ember knew that they were trying to reassure her, anger rose hot and ready to her face. ¡°You yourselves explained the threat of the mainland to me,¡± she said. They can understand my worry for my father, but they can¡¯t sense the impending violence that stinks like a corpse trapped in an attic? ¡°You¡¯ve been in Mendel too long,¡± she retorted. ¡°The city lulls you into a false sense of security.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you talk to Corax,¡± Naz tried to reason, ¡°he might be willing to look into the matter of your father now.¡±

    ¡°He was some help with my mother,¡± she scoffed.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that he was lying-¡±

    Ember stood up, slamming both hands onto the table and rattling the plates. Her friends, startled, fell silent immediately. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯ve got to go.¡±

    ¡°Ember-¡± Naz started to say, but her back was already turned as she stalked away.

    ***

    Ember shrugged off her jacket as she entered the reptile dorm, clutching it close to her chest. Her breaths came quick and furious, and she forced herself to slow down. Already the guilt of snapping at her friends was beginning to cut through her anger. On the second floor, she stopped and tugged off her boots, staring listlessly at the patterned carpet.

    ¡°Ember?¡± a low voice called, and she snapped to attention, realizing that she was loitering in front of the open door to Marcus¡¯s room.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she called back, unable to come up with a wry remark.

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    ¡°Come in,¡± he said, and she did as she was told.

    The reticulated python was leaning back in his chair with his feet braced against his desk, a book open on his lap. ¡°The Rise and Fall of Empires,¡± he said, placing it face-down on the bed behind him. ¡°A bit antiquated, but useful enough.¡±

    Ember considered him, wondering if he was trying to pass on a message or simply engaging her in conversation. ¡°Is it Mendel¡¯s time to fall, then?¡±

    His face twisted in a half-smile. ¡°A little melodramatic, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°Not for a while yet.¡±

    She shifted, and Marcus¡¯s eyes glazed over in the tell-tale way that indicated he was scanning her with his infrared vision. She felt momentarily embarrassed and made a conscious effort to relax her muscles. The memory of him carrying her after the fight with Freya rose to her mind unbidden, and her eyes slid to the floor.

    ¡°I fought Freya that day so that her sister¡¯s doves would deliver a letter to my father,¡± she said.

    ¡°I know, I read her message.¡±

    Ember rolled her eyes. ¡°Let me finish. My father is under house arrest in the city, and he warned me that the bishop was gaining power long before yesterday¡¯s events. That¡¯s why I don¡¯t believe the royals¡¯ flight was a coincidence. ¡±

    Marcus¡¯s mouth drew into a thin line, the sarcastic exterior shed as easily as a winter coat. ¡°Then we are of the same opinion,¡± he said gravely.

    Ember¡¯s surprise was accompanied by immediate relief. ¡°You agree that the Holy Order forced the royals¡¯ resignation?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but I¡¯ll take it a step further. Do you think people accustomed to being waited on hand and foot are capable of orchestrating such a plot?¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a ruse. If Matthias is half as smart as I think he is, he wouldn¡¯t let them escape and curry favor with some foreign nation.¡±

    Ember sat frozen for a moment, eyes wide. ¡°Regicide,¡± she said, the word heavy on her tongue. She stood up, pacing the small room. It made perfect, terrible sense, and she felt as though the thought had been lingering in the recesses of her mind like a neglected child. ¡°Yes¡­ the church was expanding its influence¡­ the stricter curfews, the extra days dedicated to worship¡­ Matthias would have wanted to take over as soon as he had the public¡¯s favor, but the royals would have posed a logistical threat. So he killed them.¡±

    She felt suddenly ill, and her pacing increased to an almost frenetic pace. ¡°We have to speak with someone. Mayor Richardson, or-¡±

    Marcus¡¯s strong hand was on her shoulder, steadying her. She blinked¡ªshe hadn¡¯t noticed him stand up. ¡°Corax has already thought of this. He¡¯ll be ten steps ahead of us.¡±

    Ember pulled at a scale on the back of her hand. ¡°What am I supposed to do, then? Wait for my father to be killed?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Matthias has the luxury of time. He won¡¯t act fast. Keep your eyes and ears open, and there will be an opportunity for you to involve yourself.¡±

    She crossed her arms over her chest, unsatisfied with his answer. ¡°Why don¡¯t you sit?¡± he said, not unkindly. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you tea.¡±

    Ember thought it over before settling back on the bed. When Marcus disappeared through the doorway, she considered retreating to her quarters, but he was back quickly with mugs of hot water and cotton bags of tea. He handed her one of each, dipping his tea bag in the water with a delicacy that contrasted his hardened exterior. ¡°Black,¡± he said by way of explanation. ¡°I thought you would want something bitter.¡±

    ¡°Hm,¡± she said, watching as a grey cloud billowed through the cup, as dark as her mood.

    ¡°Did I ever tell you how I got this leg injury?¡± Marcus asked suddenly.

    ¡°You know very well that you haven¡¯t,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Entertain me, then,¡± he said with a half-smile. ¡°I¡¯m from Chibron. It¡¯s a stronghold in the desert and everything Mendel is not: sweltering in the daytime and freezing at night. We lived in structures fashioned from the red rocks, and water and produce were rationed year-round. Most of the men were traders, ferrying goods in caravans across the desert, but it was dangerous work, and many women were left widows.¡±

    Ember found herself nodding with interest: Marcus was a surprisingly good storyteller, with his deep voice and even intonation.

    ¡°The central government in Chibron fluctuates between the control of several different familial clans,¡± Marcus explained. ¡°My family was in favor until I was fourteen. To say that I was privileged would be an understatement¡ªI was something of a prince. The other families schemed our downfall, but my siblings and I considered it a game.¡±

    He tapped the corner of his mug, his face downturned. ¡°When I turned fourteen, I had an inkling that something was amiss. The servants whispered; my parents hid away in their study. Boys talked back to me that never had before. Something restless was in the air.¡± He sighed. ¡°And then my family was slaughtered in the night. The throats of my parents and siblings were slit in their beds.¡±

    Ember took a sharp breath, and she looked up at the python as though seeing him for the first time. ¡°How did you survive?¡±

    ¡°I hid amongst the coals in the fireplace,¡± he said, smiling humorlessly, ¡°and then I jumped from the window and ruined my leg. But a servant took pity on me¡ªthe others had betrayed us or had been killed¡ªand he took me to Bushnell on camelback. The city was in chaos: my family¡¯s enemies fighting our allies, and everywhere, death. My people have the nasty habit of killing each other''s heirs, like male lions who take over a pride.¡±

    Ember was reminded again, painfully, that she was not the only Linnaean whose journey to Mendel was paved in blood, and she realized why Marcus had said he had nowhere to go during the break between semesters.

    ¡°How did you end up here?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Within a month I started showing signs of being Linnaean,¡± Marcus said, ¡°Corax said it was something about the shock of it. The desert nations have their own myths about Linnaeans, more ancient than Ciradyl¡¯s, and all of them ugly. The servant turned me over to the authorities without a second thought.¡±

    For a moment, they fell into contemplative silence. ¡°Thank you,¡± Ember finally said, recognizing that Marcus had placed his trust in her in an effort to ease her loneliness and pain.

    He looked away. ¡°The point is,¡± he finished, ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes open, Ember. This battle will not be fought nor won alone.¡±

 66: Olive Branch

    Thirty-eight. Ember¡¯s shin connected with the rough bark of the pine tree with a resounding crack. Dull pain, numbed by repetition, expanded outwards from the area of impact. Thirty-nine. A piece of wood splintered and flew past her face. Forty. She dropped down into a push-up position, touching her chest to the dirt ten times.

    Forty-one. Blood pulsed an even rhythm in her ears. She could feel the latent strength in her limbs, and with her infrared vision activated, see the new layers of scar tissue which appeared like white blotches on the redness of her flesh.

    Forty-two-

    ¡°Ember!¡± someone shouted. ¡°I thought I might find you here!¡±

    Ember stopped mid-kick, reeling off to the side of the tree. With the trance broken, pain raced up the branching nerves in her legs. The disquiet of her mind, temporarily staved off by training, returned in full force. She sucked in air through her teeth. ¡°Morgan? What are you doing?¡± she asked, a little too sharply.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you since Carn¡¯s party,¡± the pangolin said, looking a little hurt. ¡°That was two weeks ago. Besides, I wanted to say congratulations!¡±

    Ember felt as though she was missing a crucial detail. ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°Exams, of course!¡± Morgan exclaimed. ¡°You took the top spot. Roland is beside himself.¡±

    ¡°Well, thank you,¡± Ember said after a pause. She had completely forgotten about exams, assuming that the announcement of the first month¡¯s grades would be overshadowed by the news from Ciradyl.

    Morgan¡¯s eyes flicked over her, widening. ¡°But what in the world are you doing?¡±

    Ember looked down at herself and cringed. Her shins, forearms, and hands were painted brown with a mixture of blood, dirt, and torn scales. She waved a hand in a gesture of dismissal, and a droplet of blood flew from her knuckles and splattered onto her leather boots.

    ¡°I¡¯m training,¡± she said rather pointlessly. ¡°Bone hardening. One of the reptiles showed me.¡±

    ¡°Riiiiight,¡± Morgan said, looking at her like she was crazy. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding all over the place.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s part of the training.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s a little much, isn¡¯t it?¡± Morgan asked skeptically. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Ember sighed internally. She hadn¡¯t told the pangolin about her father¡¯s house arrest¡ªtheir conversations were usually filled by Morgan talking about herself, which suited Ember fine¡ªso she wouldn¡¯t understand why the coup had negatively affected Ember¡¯s mental state. Stalling for time, she wiped her palms on her pants, which only managed to smear blood over her thighs. ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t worry.¡±

    ¡°Well, all right, then,¡± Morgan said, still unconvinced. ¡°Would you like to come to lunch with Seb and me? He wants to get another look at your knife.¡±

    Ember hesitated. She would have preferred to say no, but Marcus¡¯s words about the importance of one¡¯s friends echoed in her ear. ¡°Sure,¡± she sighed, with herculean effort, ¡°thank you. just let me clean up first.¡±

    ***

    Ember leaned back on her bed with her bloodstained boots still on, one arm thrown over her forehead. A small piece of dirt detached itself from the sole and spilled over the white sheets. It was something her parents would have scolded her for, back when they lived in Maple Valley; now, there was no one around to say anything, and she felt their absence like a blow to the chest.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    In one hand, she held the day¡¯s newspaper, which someone¡ªpresumably Marcus¡ªhad left outside of her door for her to find when she returned home from her run. She unrolled it and held the first page up to her face.

    The mayor¡¯s statement about the coup in Ciradyl was printed on the first page:

    Regarding the shift in Ciradyl from a monarchy to a theocracy, there is no cause for alarm. The archbishop has expressed a desire to uphold the treaty and confirmed that the priest involved in the events of the winter solstice was acting of his own accord. Regardless, security will be increased at the border until negotiations are complete.

    Below the paragraph, Marcus had scribbled the words ¡®A little late¡¯ in pencil.

    Ember¡¯s mouth twisted into a frown. It was late¡ªalmost a week had passed since the initial announcement. She could almost see Corax poised above Mayor Richardson, guiding his pen with his feathered fingers.

    But the crow¡¯s motives escaped her. If Matthias is plotting war as I suspect, it seems unlikely that his actions would be missed by Corax¡¯s spies. Why, then, would the headmaster want the mayor to reassure Mendel¡¯s civilians? She shook her head, doubting herself, and dumped the newspaper unceremoniously onto the floor.

    She flopped back onto the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, where she had once again glued the wooden star from her childhood. The day¡¯s assignments seemed to look at her beseechingly from her desk, but she could not find the will to complete them. Instead, the idea of training bubbled up in her mind like a beacon of hope.

    I¡¯ll ask Jisu if she wants to spar, she decided, ripping a scrap from the newspaper and groping for a quill on her bedside table.

    Thunk. Something pinged against the window. Outside, she could hear the sound of voices, and inexplicably, barking.

    She roused herself and walked in a daze to the window. Below, Naz and Carn were waving at her as Carn¡¯s new puppy ran circles around his feet. ¡°Come down!¡±

    The sight of them flooded Ember with adrenaline, and she blinked as though waking up. A couple of curious reptiles had gathered at their windows and were eyeing the group with interest. Hurriedly, she splashed her face with water and pulled her hair back into a knot. She hadn¡¯t spoken to her friends in a week, but all of her anger about the fight had long since dissipated, and she was relieved that they had been first to bridge the gap.

    She raced around the side of the reptile dormitory, slowing down once she was within sight of Naz and Carn. Both of them had ditched their usual loose-fitting clothing for trousers and skin-tight shirts, and Naz wore her small knife at her hip. They waved in greeting, a little awkwardly, and she was reminded of the day that she had met them in the unaffiliated dorm¡¯s cafeteria.

    ¡°Hi, guys,¡± she said. ¡°What are you two doing?¡±

    ¡°Trying not to get eaten by your dorm mates,¡± Carn muttered, jabbing a finger toward the side of the dorm, where Marcus was resting with his elbows against the window. He gave a slow wink when he saw Ember looking and drew the curtains.

    ¡°He¡¯s joking,¡± Ember said. ¡°I think. Oof!¡± She exclaimed as Naz threw her arms around her torso, jostling her.

    ¡°We missed you,¡± the pisces said, pulling back with a wrinkled nose. ¡°You smell terrible, though.¡± She looked Ember up and down, her eyes a little wide, but she didn¡¯t say anything if she was surprised by the new bruises.

    Ember laughed. ¡°What¡¯s with the outfits?¡±

    The loach and the fox looked at each other. ¡°Well,¡± Naz said slowly, ¡°it¡¯s just an idea, but we were wondering if you would be open to helping us train.¡±

    Ember looked between them, baffled. ¡°It wasn¡¯t long ago that you were training me.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Naz said, ¡°We know the basics, but you¡¯ve far surpassed us now. We want to be prepared for whatever comes.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Carn added. ¡°Besides, I haven¡¯t practiced since I got injured.¡±

    It dawned on Ember that this was their olive branch¡ªtheir way of showing her their support, and she was overcome with emotion all at once. ¡°Yes,¡± she said, the beginning of tears beginning to prick at her eyes, ¡°thank you.¡±

    Her friends enveloped her in a hug, and she let herself relax in their arms. They were split apart only when Carn¡¯s puppy wormed between them, his gums pulled back and his teeth bared at Ember in an imitation of a growl. He had grown substantially in the short time since she had met him,  evidently deciding that it was his duty to protect Carn from interloping vipers.

    The fox scooped him up, scolding him softly, and held him up to Ember by his armpits. ¡°It¡¯s okay, little guy,¡± she murmured as he squirmed away from her. He looked between her and Carn, and then relaxed into her touch with a little yap.

    She scratched him behind the ears. ¡°Some hunter you are,¡± she whispered, and Naz giggled beside her.

 67: The Mycorrhizal Network

    Ember¡¯s boots crunched on the rocky forest soil.  It was early morning, and she had wrapped a jacket tightly around her shoulders to protect against the remnants of cold. Light filtered through the tree canopy, its thin rays throwing the forest into alternating brightness and shadow. Although the last frost of the season had not yet come, the world was steadily warming. The first buds had broken through the ground, but the wind still rattled the naked branches of the oaks and snowy-white aspens.

    Roland¡¯s presence put a damper on Ember¡¯s improved mood. He walked only ten feet away, sporting a black eye and a cast on his left wing, remnants from a recent ranked fight he had fought¡ªand won¡ªwith a vermes ranked in the low 320s. As usual, his presence put a pit in Ember¡¯s stomach, though he was pointedly ignoring her other than a hateful look when they crossed paths at a bend in the trail.

    By Ember¡¯s calculations, she and the black-hawk eagle had scored similarly in their shared classes, and she wondered if it was his failure to restrain his instinct while acting as Ophelia¡¯s TA that had placed him below her. They had managed to avoid each other in the intermediate class, but in a cruel twist of fate, the proximity of the first letter of their last names (Raiford and Whitlock) had placed them in the same group for the biology class¡¯s excursion.

    Seemingly unaware of the dispute behind him, the professor for the second semester in the biology sequence, Dr. Shelby, led the way through the forest. He was a slim, bespeckled human, who¡ªaccording to popular rumors¡ªhad been born to a Linnaean father and human mother. Perhaps because of his lineage, he kept mostly to himself, but Ember found him to be a decent lecturer and a fair grader.

    After thirty minutes of hiking, Professor Shelby stopped in an outwardly unremarkable clearing. ¡°Most of you are probably wondering about the purpose of this little excursion,¡± he addressed the group. ¡°But first, does anyone know what the largest organism on our planet is?¡±

    Because the course was fairly advanced, several hands shot up. ¡°A giant sequoia, professor?¡± a pisces offered.

    ¡°A good answer, but no.¡±

    ¡°The elephant?¡± someone else supplied. The professor shook his head.

    ¡°Bruhathkayosaurus?¡±

    ¡°Incorrect,¡± Dr. Shelby said. ¡°The  species in question is alive today.¡±

    Roland raised his good arm in his typical cool manner. ¡°Largest in terms of biomass or area, sir?¡±

    ¡°Either answer would suffice.¡±

    ¡°Balaenoptera musculus? The blue whale?¡± he said, looking satisfied with himself.

    ¡°Close. It is the  largest animal, yes, but not organism.¡±

    Ember smirked, and Roland¡¯s face flushed with annoyance. When no more hands were raised, the professor pushed up his glasses and crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°This organism,¡± he said, pausing for suspense, ¡°is not a member of kingdom Plantae nor Animalia, but kingdom Fungi.¡±

    ¡°Fungi?¡± a mammal asked, looking baffled. ¡°Is it a giant mushroom, then?¡±

    There were some laughs amongst the group. ¡°Well?¡± the professor asked, ¡°do you all have the answer?¡±

    The laughter died down. ¡°Is it a colony?¡± Ember ventured after a pause.

    The professor nodded vigorously. ¡°Very good! Some of you may consider it cheating, but the organism in question is indeed a fungus. If all parts of its mycelium are connected, which I believe is a safe assumption, then it can be considered a single organism.¡±

    ¡°But aren¡¯t fungi plants?¡± a mammal asked.

    ¡°Good question,¡± Dr. Shelby answered, the most animated that Ember had ever seen him. ¡°Until recently, they were considered plants, but studying them has been my life¡¯s work. In my most recent publication, I concluded that they are more closely related to animals than plants, thus necessitating the creation of a new kingdom.¡±

    As the professor spoke, his voice raised to an almost feverish pitch. It was such a drastic change from his usual manner that a couple of the students took a fearful step back. Perhaps he keeps to himself not because he is human, Ember realized, but because he is raving mad.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°What was the basis of your determination?¡± Roland asked without raising his hand.

    Dr. Shelby¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked. The majority of my work surrounds the fact that fungi are heterotrophs, like animals¡ªthat is, they do not photosynthesize, but feed upon other organisms.¡±

    A thought began to take shape in Ember¡¯s mind. ¡°If fungi are similar to animals, does that mean a Linnaean could mutate into a fungal species?¡±

    The other students fell into a stunned silence. ¡°Well,¡± Professor Shelby said, ¡°what an interesting thought. I suppose such a thing could be possible, though extraordinarily rare. As you know, the mammalia dorms are the largest, even though class insecta is far more taxonomically rich. Why is this?¡±

    ¡°Because mammals are genetically the closest to humans,¡± Roland supplied, leaving Ember simultaneously impressed and irritated.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Dr. Shelby agreed. ¡°A far greater number of nucleotides would need to be displaced for a fungal species to be created, and it¡¯s possible that such a Linnaean would find itself incompatible with its human side.¡± He pulled out a pocket notebook, furiously scribbling notes.

    ¡°Professor?¡± the female pisces prompted after a moment. ¡°You were saying about the largest organism?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Dr. Shelby acknowledged, looking up from his notebook with a flash of displeasure. ¡°Arguably, the largest organism lies below our feet: Armillaria ostoyae. By my calculations, this particular specimen spans about three square miles, which would bring it in at 30,000 tons.¡± He pulled a scroll from his shoulder bag, unraveling it until it pooled about his feet. On the parchment, Ember could see increasingly complex calculations that explained the dark bruises beneath the professor¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°The majority of this species is subterraneous,¡± he added, bending to pluck a brown-capped mushroom from the soil. ¡°The recognizable portion is merely the fruit.¡± He gestured for the class to gather around. Using a brush, he pushed back the soil, exposing a white substance that branched in all directions.  ¡°This the mycelium, the true body of the fungus,¡± he explained. ¡°It consists of individual filaments called hyphae. These are interwoven with the roots of the forest plants, creating an expansive network.

    ¡°It is via this network that plants communicate¡ªnutrients can be transferred between individuals and infochemicals relay information about pathogenic attacks. The network is nourished by the bodies of the animals that die in the forest, including ourselves. In this way, we are all intimately connected.¡±

    It took a moment for Ember to grasp the enormity of the professor¡¯s words. In a sense, it confirmed what she had felt, especially on the night of the Winter Solstice: that the city and its inhabitants were a single, breathing organism.

    Dr. Shelby answered a handful of questions before calling the class back to attention. ¡°Your assignment today is to forage for the fruits of this mushroom and carefully document their positions,¡± he explained. ¡°These will be used to further my research. You have forty-five minutes.¡±

    The class dispersed, and Ember found a spot within sight of the clearing to begin her foraging. She drew her sample collection kit from her bag, pulled on a pair of gloves, and crouched down next to a cluster of mushrooms.

    The work had a repetitive yet soothing quality. Each mushroom had to be twisted from the soil, cleaned, and placed in a specimen bag, and its location had to be precisely noted. It didn¡¯t escape Ember that the real purpose of the excursion was to do Dr. Shelby¡¯s work for him, but she couldn¡¯t muster any real frustration; the task allowed her time to think about the mycorrhizal network, and she turned over the possibilities in her mind as if examining a particularly interesting artifact.

    Most of Ember¡¯s time in the previous two months had been dedicated to training, and she had become particularly masterful with her infrared vision. It no longer exhausted her to use it for longer periods at a time, and she had developed the habit of using it whenever possible, especially when performing idle tasks.

    It was for that reason that she sensed Roland¡¯s presence long before he intended.

    Her hands stilled. She breathed in once, bagged the mushroom she was working with, and turned around to face the raptor. ¡°Do you need something?¡± she asked.

    He tilted his chin up and narrowed his orange eyes. His great wings hung behind him, the monochrome feathers complementing his aristocratic bearing. Ember thought, not for the first time, that such magnificent mutations were wasted on him.

    When he didn¡¯t reply, she set her jaw and tried again. ¡°What do you want, Roland? Surely you¡¯re not planning to fight me during our class field trip.¡±

    He smirked, and Ember prepared herself for whatever was coming. She wasn¡¯t going to rise to his bait, not when there were a thousand other more pressing matters to attend to: her father¡¯s captivity, her mother¡¯s disappearance, and the coup in Ciradyl, to name a few.

    ¡°Orion, the Golden Eagle, has decided to claim me as his disciple,¡± he said.

    Ember¡¯s blood turned cold. It was extremely rare for a ranker in the 300s to have a master, and rarer still for them to be publicly claimed. It means that the Golden Eagle trusts Roland to best any challengers. It was an honor of the highest order, one that placed him firmly in an exclusive club outside of her reach.

    Ember¡¯s skin buzzed with anxiety as she fought to return her face to a suitably neutral expression. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re telling me,¡± she managed to say.

    He shrugged, looking triumphant, and slipped back through the trees. ¡°Catch me if you can,¡± he added over his shoulder.

 68: Springtime Farmeréˆ¥æªš Market

    Ember rested on her elbows, watching the landscape slide past. The wind caught her hair, pulling the strands from her bun and whipping them around her face. It was her first time leaving the university in months, and the change in scenery filled her with a kind of hopeful optimism.

    At last, spring was beginning to overtake the dregs of winter. Buttercup flowers poked through the soil, painting the forest floor with swathes of yellow. The deer had awoken from their lethargy and romped between the trees, seeking out anything green. Beneath their feet, rabbits nibbled at the baby sprouts, and brimstone butterflies¡ªfreshly emerged from their hibernation¡ªfluttered lightly in the breeze. The songbirds, too, had returned from their migration, filling the air with their lively trills. Occasionally, Ember¡¯s infrared detected a splash of red, and she leaned out to investigate as a hedgehog or a red fox ducked into its burrow.

    Across the open-topped carriage, Carn was sitting with his legs spread wide. His chin was tilted up, the wind mussing his ginger hair. The puppy¡ªnow three months old and already twenty-five pounds¡ªwas lying on the bench with his front paws on the fox¡¯s thigh. Carn held his leather collar with one hand, deterring him from harassing the draft horse pulling the carriage.

    Naz sat with her feet in Carn¡¯s lap, a forgotten book propped open on her knees. A fading yellow bruise wrapped around her wrist and disappeared under her sleeve. Ember felt a pang of guilt, but the pisces had insisted that Ember show her how to properly escape a wrist lock, which required a tight hold. The three weeks of training hadn¡¯t been any kinder to the fox, though Ember had used her infrared to avoid irritating any of his old injuries.

    Time was suspended in the ethereal Saturday morning light, and even the upcoming midterms seemed impossibly far away. They passed most of the long ride through the forest in comfortable silence; occasionally, one of the friends offered a lighthearted remark, but mostly Ember watched the scenery while the others dozed. Unlike them, she had yet to become accustomed to the city, and she drank in each new sight, stashing it away in the recesses of her mind to be called upon later.

    They slowed at the wall¡¯s eastern exit. The gate¡ªif it could be considered as such¡ªwas open, and a mammalian watchman was sitting on a wide branch. It was only Ember¡¯s third time seeing the wall, and she had been unable to give it due consideration on the previous two occasions.

    As with the northern segment, the eastern wall was constructed of gargantuan trees whose branches were woven together like a wicker basket. If Ember squinted, their crowns were just barely visible against the brightening rays of the sun, and their roots were large enough to create a significant barrier at the base.

    She tilted her head, bemused. It was feasible that the trees could have been shaped into their orientation, but she failed to understand the mechanism for the gate: it appeared, at least on the surface, a seamless wall of branches that opened outward at will.

    The watchman gave them a nod, and the horse moved forward of its own accord. Ember felt a thrill as they passed underneath the thick web of branches and into the world beyond.

    ¡°Do you know how the gate works?¡± she asked her friends.

    The pisces blinked sleepily as she roused herself. ¡°I can¡¯t say I do. I¡¯ve never watched how it¡¯s done up close, but I¡¯d guess there¡¯s machinery involved.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Ember replied, skeptical. Both on the night of her delivery and the night of the solstice, the wall had opened with merely a woosh and the sound of creaking. But when she looked over the back of the carriage, she failed to see any cables or chains.

    She was distracted as the carriage broke out from beneath the cover of the forest and onto an open plane. Instantly, the world opened up like a flower coming into bloom. Ahead, the path transformed into a winding road beneath the vast blue sky, and a tributary of the Lion¡¯s Tail River sparkled in the distance.

    Ember had learned about the farmlands in Bao¡¯s history class, but it was another experience entirely to witness them in person. The hills around the carriage had been carved into receding step-like platforms, where tall grass swayed with the wind. The landscape was dotted with barns and the occasional oak, but mostly, the great open expanse continued over the horizon.

    Near the path, a farmer walked along one of the uppermost steps, leading a pony that pulled a mechanical reaper, a contraption that Ember recognized from her childhood in Maple Valley. ¡°Are they harvesting grain?¡± she asked Naz.

    ¡°Rye and barley. This farm grows it as a cover crop to anchor the terraces during winter.¡±

    Ember nodded thoughtfully. Based on what she had learned in biology, the crop would also discourage weeds while replenishing the nutrients in the soil¡ªa more sustainable model than the monocultures that were common on the mainland¡¯s larger farms.

    As they progressed, the uniquity of Mendel¡¯s agriculture was confirmed: there were only a small number of low fences, and livestock in the form of horned sheep and shaggy bovines grazed freely. Bao had explained that the western farmland was owned by various families, gifted to them by the state under a contract to farm, while the land further away was terra nullius¡ªowned by no one.

    ¡°How can this land have multiple owners? There are so few fences.¡±

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    ¡°The producers know which livestock are theirs,¡± the pisces answered. ¡°Their ears are marked with tags, and no butcher would agree to process an animal brought in by a thief.¡±

    ¡°Which farm does your father manage?¡± Carn asked, looking over the vast landscape.

    ¡°There, on the other side of the river,¡± Naz said, pointing to the left of the carriage. ¡°There¡¯s a lake, too, where they raise trout.¡±

    ¡°Still, this can¡¯t be enough for a population of forty-five thousand,¡± Ember said, remembering Naz¡¯s words during an outing to the city.

    ¡°You¡¯re right¡ªmost of the city¡¯s food is from wild game and forages. Many residents also have home gardens and practice the arts of pickling and canning.¡±

    After a moment more of discussion, the three friends fell once again into companionable silence as they neared their destination: the springtime farmer¡¯s market, held after the last freeze of winter. When the road branched, Naz patted the horse¡¯s left buttock, directing it toward the river.

    It was lively along the water¡¯s edge: wildflowers grew in the rich soil of the banks, visited by insects; livestock stooped to drink; and Mendelians gathered water with buckets. Scaffolding stretched over the river, where the roots of leafy greens trailed in the current. Further down, the running water spun a wheel connected to a stone millhouse.

    ¡°It¡¯s called aquaponics,¡± Naz explained when Ember asked, ¡°a combination of aquaculture¡ªraising fish¡ªand hydroponics¡ªsoilless plant farming.¡±

    The road grew congested with Linnaeans, some on foot and others riding on the back of draft animals. Many lugged their harvest, and Ember even spotted an antennaed man with his hand deep in a white brood box, pulling out a honeycomb.

    At long last, they reached the site of the market. Naz called the horse to a stop, and they unloaded from the carriage onto a wide path. The stretch was packed with vendors: some had brought fold-out tables, but the majority displayed their goods in wheelbarrows, on the back of carts, or spread out over a cloth. Ember recognized leeks, cauliflower, cabbage, and Brussels sprouts, sweeter for having been touched by frost.

    The three friends set off down the first aisle, the puppy following close behind. It was a different crowd than the university: families manned the booths, carrying sacks of wheat or collecting payment; barefoot children ran amongst the rows, nibbling on handouts; and the elderly walked with their relatives¡¯ support. Ember saw a great deal of older Linnaeans, their skin darkened by the sun, their faces lined with wrinkles, and their haphazard mutations supported by homemade bandages.

    Naz could hardly walk ten steps at a time before being greeted by a family friend. She answered warmly to the inquiries about her health and studies, and Ember wondered if they were the same people who had looked after her when she first arrived in the city.

    The best of the crop, the pisces explained, had already been sent into the city¡¯s restaurants and to the university; the sale was the excess from the families¡¯ private stores. Although the vendors had prices on display, when Naz was recognized, they were inundated with goods free of charge.

    The three friends spent hours walking between the displays, talking and occasionally drinking with the locals. They spent the longest at the booth manned by Naz¡¯s father, who turned out to be a rosy-faced pisces with the same striped patterns as his daughter. He fussed over the three friends, reminding Ember enough of her own dad to make her eyes sting.

    They filled their stomachs with smoked meats glazed in honey and their arms with fresh vegetables (regardless of how many times Ember argued that she was mostly carnivorous). Carn¡¯s dog was offered biscuits and scraps, and eventually, he grew too full even to investigate the barrage of new smells.

    When the sky showed the first signs of darkening, the three friends extracted themselves with much hardship, making their way back to the trailhead. The horse was waiting for them, eating from a trough of oats, and they harnessed him with the help of Naz¡¯s father.

    It wasn¡¯t until they were heading back¡ªtheir goodbyes exhausted, their stomachs full, and enough produce at their feet that they would have to share it to prevent spoilage¡ªthat Naz fixed Ember with a serious look.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Ember asked immediately, worry creeping into her consciousness.

    ¡°I have something for you,¡± the pisces said tentatively. ¡°But promise me you won¡¯t do something impulsive.¡±

    Ember sat up straighter, almost vibrating with attention. From the way Carn was watching out of the corner of his eye, she suspected it must¡¯ve been important enough to let him in on it beforehand. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Naz pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, depositing it in Ember¡¯s hand. She looked down, surprised to see a set of coordinates along with a list of directions written in Naz¡¯s neat handwriting.

    ¡°It¡¯s the address for the mayor that the Golden Lance served. I¡¯m sorry it took so long¡ªhe wasn¡¯t easy to track down.¡±

    Ember¡¯s hand shook as she tucked the paper into her innermost pocket. ¡°Thank you. Thank you so much.¡±

    Naz held up a hand. ¡°Wait. This guy¡¯s a recluse; he lives outside the walls, and I couldn¡¯t find a single person who''s seen him in the last three years. I know I can¡¯t stop you from going, so take us with you.¡±

    Ember frowned. Since coming to Mendel, she had done everything related to her parents alone. ¡°Where did you say he lived, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s technically in the Old Forest,¡± Naz said with a sigh. ¡°If my sources are correct, the last leg of the trip must be taken on foot.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m ungrateful,¡± Ember said carefully, ¡°but I¡¯ve heard that the Old Forest isn¡¯t safe¡ªI might need to defend myself or move stealthily. Carn has a great sense of smell, but neither of you have infrared vision, can climb trees, or know how to navigate.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know how to navigate either-¡± Naz started to argue.

    Carn stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Maybe Ember is right. You both bailed me out with the margay¡­ I want to go, but I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll get in the way.¡± He met her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re not strong enough yet.¡±

    Naz pursed her lips, looking unhappy. ¡°What about one of the reptiles?¡± she asked after a pause. ¡°Maybe Marcus? Doesn¡¯t he already know about your father?¡±

    Ember wiped her hands on her trousers. Letting someone else in on the situation with her parents was out of the question, but she couldn¡¯t deny that Marcus was an adept navigator and fighter. Besides, Naz was looking at her with hopeful eyes, and she couldn¡¯t disappoint her again.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she agreed. ¡°I¡¯ll ask him tomorrow.¡±

 69: The Golden Lance of Mendel

    When Ember was nine, her father had taken her to call upon a neighbor, an elderly woman who depended on them for milk and eggs. An eerie stillness awaited them behind the door¡ªa thin layer of dust coated the still-set table and the air smelled of mildew tinged with the sourness of death. They found the woman¡¯s body in the backyard, beneath her sycamore tree.

    As Ember walked through the forest that housed the former mayor¡¯s house, the memory of that dwelling rose to her mind like a bloated dead thing to the water¡¯s surface. It was dark and musty, but more importantly, imbued with a certain wrongness that slipped away if she tried to pin it down. Where spring had touched the city, it had been kept out by some boundary to this wild recess, and the heavy, chilling cold tightened around her lungs. The animals, though few, scattered along the edges of her vision.

    She retreated further into her jacket, watchful eyes scanning ahead beneath the low black hood. Marcus walked by her side, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the damp earth. He carried a compass in one hand and a map in the other, which he consulted every dozen paces.

    It was rough going. The foliage was overgrown¡ªbare branches had to be pushed aside and persistent vines hacked at with a blade. The trail was confused, appearing and disappearing seemingly on a whim, and the map (borrowed from the library) was incomplete and imprecise. Without the aid of the stars, Marcus had to rely on landmarks and the pace count, both of which were proving unreliable under the difficult conditions. It was impossible for Ember not to accept the truthfulness of Naz¡¯s words: without him, she would have been hopelessly, irrevocably lost.

    Marcus paused to adjust their course, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth. ¡°It should be close, now,¡± he remarked. Ember watched over his shoulder, saying nothing; they had spoken at length on the long carriage ride, and she feared that any further discussion could only serve to acknowledge the precariousness of their situation.

    Just as they started off again, a rustling came from the dense foliage behind them. The two reptiles turned sharply, their eyes meeting. Marcus stuck his hand in front of Ember, imploring her to stay still, and his eyes glazed over as he focused his infrared vision.

    Ember turned her head, detecting a looming green-and-yellow mass. Her breath hitched, and she looked to Marcus for his opinion¡ªalthough the anatomy of her pit organs was more advanced, he was both more developed and more skilled.

    ¡°The tree,¡± he hissed, and Ember needed no further encouragement to climb as quickly and quietly as she could into the lowest branches of the nearest oak. The python followed close behind, shoving the map and the compass into his pockets before he hauled himself up, his muscles flexing against his long-sleeved shirt.

    The rustling grew steadily louder. They tucked themselves close to the trunk, perfectly still, their chests rising and falling quickly. Ember looked at Marcus with a question in her eyes, but he held a finger to his lips, and she was jarred by the seriousness of his expression.

    The creature emerged between two trees in segments: first the head, with a bulky beak as large as a person; the spindly, inelegant neck; and the disproportionately long front legs. At first, Ember could only watch, but when it had revealed itself in full, a dread so potent settled over her that she didn¡¯t think she could move even if she wanted to.

    It was a terrifying abomination. The front limbs revealed themselves to be massive wings, folded back on themselves. Ember¡¯s only comfort was that they could not be functional¡ªthey were torn through like moth-eaten fabric. The rest of the body was likewise mutated, as if the skin of a heron had been stretched over the body of a giraffe. The creature half-walked, half-dragged itself through the brush, its chest rising jerkily with each shuddering breath with a sound like a death rattle.

    As it came even with their tree, it paused, swinging its head around in a half-circle. Hanging from its beak by tendrils of rotting flesh was the leg of a deer, painting the feathers beneath brown with dried blood. Ember shuddered, her hand clamping vice-like around Marcus¡¯s forearm: the eyes, too small for the huge head, were distinctly human.

    The bird-creature slunk away painfully slowly, its talons finding haphazard purchase in the damp soil, and the two reptiles only dared to speak once they could no longer see the foliage bending ahead. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Ember hissed, releasing her grasp on Marcus¡¯s arm. ¡°It was Linnaean, but¡­¡± she trailed off, remembering the wraiths that had appeared at the solstice festival. ¡°A wildling?¡±

    He shook his head, his expression grave. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something isn¡¯t right about this place.¡±

    They hesitated, neither eager to move from the relative safety of the tree. ¡°Should we turn back?¡± Ember asked reluctantly.

    ¡°No,¡± Marcus said decidedly, ¡°we¡¯re close, and if we don¡¯t find the cottage now I doubt we¡¯ll ever return.¡±

    Ember nodded, infinitely grateful for his presence. They climbed down the tree quickly, and after consulting the map for a moment, the python once again began to lead them between the trees.

    The encounter with the bird-creature had set Ember¡¯s nerves on edge, and she saw the forest with paranoid clarity. It was unnatural from soil to treetop: the spongy, rotten earth; the sinister chattering of the squirrels; and the trees that seemed to turn and watch her as she passed by. She let out a little yelp when a blood-red millipede scattered beneath the toe of her boot, and she wondered not for the last time if they should turn back after all.

    At last, the cabin materialized as they stepped into a grove of off-white, sickly aspen trees. Its facade was overgrown with ivy and lichen, and a chunk of the roof had been ripped out and deposited on the stoop. Ember approached cautiously, once again reminded of the dead neighbor and her forsaken house.

    She glanced at Marcus. He gave a half-shrug, so she raised her hand to the wooden door and knocked once. There was no answer from within, but the force of the knock itself had pushed the old rotten panels open slightly, and she stepped over the threshold.

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    The inside was simple, with a kitchen and a living room on either side of the door. It was in complete disrepair: the cabinets hung from a single hinge, the chairs in the sitting room had collapsed in on themselves, and the sink was clogged with black mold. She had half-expected to encounter the sickly smell of death, but there was only the odor of earth and rot.

    The reptiles stepped further into the room, walking slowly as to take it all in. The floorboards cracked and groaned beneath their feet, and when Marcus¡¯s pant leg caught the side of the tablecloth, it released a cloud of dust so thick that it took several minutes for them to stop coughing.

    The reclamation of the forest was complete. Spiderwebs stretched across the broken furniture, weeds sprouted from the floor, and a colony of mushrooms was growing from what had once been the couch. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone here,¡± Marcus remarked with a pitying note, ¡°this place has been abandoned for a long time.¡±

    Ember grimaced, about to agree, but stopped suddenly. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure.¡±

    Marcus joined her, and she pointed down at the floorboards, where a trail of footprints carved a path through the dust. The reptiles proceeded cautiously, following the prints across the living room and into a narrow hallway.

    When they encountered another door, Ember knocked once again. Just before she let herself in, a faint voice sounded from inside, and both snakes drew back as if burned.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ early,¡± the voice rasped, sounding none too pleased.

    Marcus stepped in front of her, opening the door by degrees so that he could peek inside. ¡°Mr. Ernold?¡±

    ¡°No point in¡­. loitering outside.¡±

    The reptiles exchanged a look, and Ember¡¯s fingers unconsciously brushed the handle of her fang knife.

    The bedroom was in decidedly better condition than the rest of the house. In the center, beneath a window, there was a four-poster bed made up with blankets and a comforter. On one side was a bookshelf, and on the other an old leather recliner, upon which sat an elderly Linnaean.

    For a moment, the students and the former mayor assessed each other. Mr. Ernold¡¯s broad figure had sunk low in his chair, and his armored tail (not unlike Elliot¡¯s) spilled over one of the arms. He wore loose-fitting pants but no shirt, his chest crisscrossed by yellowed bandages. He was distinctly reptilian, with thick brown scales and spikes running in parallel stripes down his back. His jaw was elongated, with massive, boar-like teeth jutting at ninety-degree angles. Even more striking than his appearance, however, was the feeling of wrongness that clung to his person.

    Ember and the former mayor spoke at once.

    ¡°We came to-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not Kingsleigh.¡±

    ¡°Not¡­ who?¡± Ember asked, only half understanding the deep rasp of his voice, which reminded her of humans who had overindulged in cigars.

    He coughed heartily, and the wrinkly corners of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. ¡°To think¡­ I was so rude to my first visitors.¡±

    Ember stepped closer to his chair, forcing herself to overcome her trepidation and take her hand away from the handle of the fang knife. Marcus lingered by the door, no doubt out of respect for what they were going to discuss, and she put him out of her mind with some effort.

    ¡°Sir,¡± she said gently, ¡°my name is Ember Whitlock. I¡¯m here to speak to you about my mother, Gloria¡ªmaiden name Beaumont¡ªwho I believe may have been connected to the Golden Lance. I understand that you worked with her.¡±

    The former mayor¡¯s hand shifted on the arm of his chair, and he leaned forward, his watery eyes scanning her. An uneasy feeling spread across Ember¡¯s chest, and it was all that she could do not to flinch away.

    At last, he leaned back. ¡°Oh, child.¡± was all he said.

    Ember fidgeted under his gaze. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I did indeed¡­ work with the Golden Lance¡­ for many years,¡± he added. ¡°I was one of the few. It was¡­ all a very private operation. Her face had to be kept¡­ perfectly secret from the humans.¡±

    Encouraged, Ember nodded. ¡°Yes. You see, I suspect that my mother worked for the Golden Lance, since she disappeared around the same time that the Aurelian Artery was dissolved. She was missing for several months before her body was found. We lived in Maple Valley, near Vargas.¡±

    Marcus made a small noise from where he stood in the doorway, and Ember found an odd expression on his face. ¡°My father was human,¡± Ember pressed, ¡°and I believed that my mother was, too, but I had this dream, and there have been signs¡ªbut do you know anything about her?¡±

    Ember found herself unable to meet the former mayor¡¯s eyes, and as she looked down, she noticed a strange apparatus next to his chair. It consisted of an inflatable bag attached to a metal tank, from which a rubber tube ran up the leg of the recliner.

    Gingerly, Mr. Ernold pitched the tube between his thumb and pointer finger and raised the mouthpiece to his lips, inhaling deeply. ¡°Sir?¡± Ember asked again, her curiosity overwhelmed by a sudden sense of urgency.

    He looked down at her in surprise, as if he hadn¡¯t expected her to be waiting for his response. ¡°Child,¡± he said, his voice stronger, ¡°I hope you did not come all this way to ask me¡­  that which you already have the answer to.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she asked, looking between him and Marcus. ¡°But I don¡¯t know, that¡¯s precisely why-¡±

    ¡°You look exactly like her,¡± he reminisced as if she hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°To think that woman¡­ had a daughter with a human man.¡±

    ¡°Like who?¡± Ember asked, but her voice was already softening as she began to realize his implication.

    ¡°The golden lancehead,  Bothrops insularis, is a snake. A pit viper, discovered by Dr. Thompson in his southern expeditions. He brought a vial of its venom back with him¡­ it was five times more potent than the inland species and the fastest acting of all the Bothrops.¡±

    Ember stared at him, and everything else ceased to exist. She hadn¡¯t been sure, but part of her had suspected, hadn¡¯t it? The timing, the symptoms, the trips to the physician in Vargas¡­ Of course, Gloria Whitlock did not disappear because the Aurelian Artery dissolved; it had dissolved because she disappeared.

    Ember sank to her knees, a hand coming up to her eyes. Yes¡­ she had known; she just hadn¡¯t been able to reconcile her frail, absent mother with the legendary Golden Lance; couldn¡¯t accept that the resentment of eight years had been misplaced.

    Oh god, no¡­

    Her mother¡­ her poor, desolate mother, who had sliced off her scales and filed down her fangs to hide her true nature; who had saved the lives of over six hundred Linnaeans¡ªnot as a subordinate, but the Golden Lance of Mendel herself.

 70: Creatures of a Bygone Era

    Ember was going to be sick. She was vaguely aware of Marcus coming to stand by her side; of his hand on her shoulder as he leaned down to tell her to collect herself.

    With great effort, she pulled herself to her feet and dried her eyes. He¡¯s right¡ªthere would be time to think and reflect later, but she might never have the chance to speak to Mr. Ernold again.

    The former mayor was looking at her with soft eyes, and for a moment his unnerving air was almost forgotten. ¡°You¡¯re the same species as the Golden Lance¡­ are you not?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Y-yes,¡± Ember said with a hitch in her voice. It would forever be a cruel reminder of how she had hated her mother.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Mr. Ernold said, his eyes awash with sorrow.

    ¡°Sorry? Why?¡± Marcus asked, concern creeping into his voice.

    ¡°The venom is a terrible burden. I saw it only once¡­ when we  asked her to demonstrate on a rabbit.¡± He shook his head. ¡°How the poor creature suffered¡­ its very flesh melted from its bones. We used her  ill after we saw what she could do.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°That man, Corax¡­ he treated her as a weapon, and I allowed it. She was saving so many,¡± Mr. Ernold shook his head, pausing to take another pull from the metal apparatus. ¡°No wonder she didn¡¯t tell us about her family.¡±

    ¡°So he did know her,¡± Ember breathed, ¡°he lied.¡± If the mayor had noticed the resemblance right away, there was no way that it had escaped Corax. Did he invite me to join the university because he recognized me?

    ¡°That crow serves no one but himself and his idea of the greater good. It would be wise not to put your trust in him.¡±

    Ember paused to consider his words. ¡°Thank you for the warning. But there¡¯s something else I must know¡ªhow exactly did my mother die?¡±

    ¡°You saw her body?¡± he asked with a heavy voice. She nodded. ¡°I had hoped¡­ she might have survived.¡±

    Ember passed a hand over her face, attempting to hide her disappointment. ¡°Then you must not know how she died, either. But how? You were her supervisor.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°I was the mayor at the beginning of her service¡­ but not the end. I was long since pushed out by the time she vanished.¡±

    ¡°Pushed out?¡± Marcus prompted.

    Mr. Ernold spread his arms wide. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed that my affliction takes on a different flavor than most other Linnaeans. My presence is unsettling¡­ trespassing.¡±

    His words reflected Ember¡¯s thoughts so closely that she couldn¡¯t stop the agreement from showing on her face. ¡°We apologize.¡±

    Mr. Ernold waved her concern away. ¡°I am not offended. I am a reptile, like you,¡± he explained, ¡°but I am a prehistoric species¡­ one that disappeared from this earth a hundred million years ago.¡±

    Ember and Marcus exchanged a subtle look, and the corner of the former mayor¡¯s mouth turned up in a wry smile. ¡°I see that you don¡¯t believe me. I spent my first years here¡­ when I was not yet too weak¡­ researching old civilizations. There are stories about the ancient earth hidden within their lore¡­ of fossils and mythical beasts¡­¡±

    He trailed off, panting as if from a great effort, and took another deep gulp from the machine¡¯s mouthpiece. ¡°Can I find you something to drink, sir? Is there a well out back?¡± Ember asked, taking pity on him.

    He shook his head with a near-desperate expression, and she realized that he needed to tell them his story almost as much as they needed to hear it. ¡°The ancients named my species Kaprosuchus¡­ the boar crocodile. Back when it lived, there was more oxygen in the air. So as my mutations progressed, I struggled to breathe.  I am an abomination¡­ only the machine keeps me alive. The forest senses my affliction, and the disease spreads out from me like a cancer.¡±

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    Ember couldn¡¯t deny that his words rang of truth. It was unbelievable, but not impossible; many months before, at the Burbank biology laboratory, a scientist had explained to her that their mutations were the result of the polymerase enzyme following the blueprint of an animal species rather than a human. He had never claimed that the species had to be currently living.

    ¡°But why did you retire?¡± Marcus asked.

    ¡°My strength was fading¡­ Corax was young and ambitious¡­ it was easier to let him put me here and assign me a caregiver. A figurehead was voted in my place¡­ the people preferred him, anyway.¡±

    Ember was struck with compassion. Most of Mr. Ernold¡¯s prehistoric compatriots would have died young, and she doubted that the treatment was as effective on those with such different biologies. It is a sad lot in life, she thought, to be defunct because others find you anachronistic.

    ¡°I will come again, sir,¡± she said, taking his hand. ¡°I will bring you books from the library and tell you stories of the city if you wish.¡±

    Marcus scowled, looking like he would argue with her. ¡°The bird-creature-¡±

    The former mayor let out a sudden, barking laugh. ¡°Do not fear him. His name is Quetzalcoatlus¡­ after the feathered serpent god of one of my ancient civilizations. He may be frightening¡­ but he will not harm you.¡±

    ¡°He was sick,¡± Ember ventured. ¡°Struggling to breathe, like you.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mr. Ernold agreed, ¡°he doesn¡¯t have long left¡­ but he wishes to spend it free¡­ not chained to a machine. He is less of a coward than I.¡± He shook his head, looking sorrowful. ¡°You are much like your brave mother¡­ and I regret that I can not tell you more about her¡­ all because I retreated here like a rat underground.¡±

    He reached forward and seized her hand. ¡°Child,¡± he implored, ¡°the treaty has held through my lifetime¡­ and I pray that it will hold through yours. But if there is war, Corax will use you¡­ he will take you as his weapon. You must resist him, or be stripped of your autonomy.¡± His eyes flitted to Marcus. ¡°You will see to it?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not-¡± Ember tried to say, but Marcus was already agreeing, his mouth downturned with worry.

    The old man took the tip of his thumb between his lips, chewing absentmindedly. ¡°If only there was something more I could do¡­¡±

    Suddenly, his eyes shot wide. ¡°Young man,¡± he ordered, ¡°bring me my paper and my quill.¡± With a shaking hand, he pointed across the room to the bookshelf.

    Marcus did as he was told, and the former mayor wrote a name and a set of directions on the paper, handing it to Ember like it was something precious. ¡°You are a fighter, so Corax will place you with a member of his association when he deems fit¡­ but they are under his thumb. Play his game, but seek help here¡­ this man is an old friend of mine, outside of the crow¡¯s influence.¡±

    Ember slipped the paper into her pocket. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said sincerely.

    The former mayor looked outside of the window, where the sun had moved far to the west. ¡°Much time has passed. You must both leave now¡­ the forest is less kind in darkness.¡±

    Ember took his hand and thanked him again, repeating her promise to return. As they walked through the forlorn house, she took note of what she could clean and repair during her next visit.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come back with you again,¡± Marcus said as they crossed the threshold into the forest. He wasn¡¯t looking at her, his eyes pointed forward into the trees.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to,¡± Ember said, even though she wasn¡¯t eager to face Quetzalcoatlus alone. ¡°Mr. Ernold said it¡¯s safe.¡±

    ¡°I want to,¡± he said firmly. ¡°As long as I won¡¯t be in your way. I have a feeling that there is much to learn from him¡ªthings that others do not intend us to know.¡±

    Ember smiled at him. ¡°My mother was a hero, Marcus. All this time I thought that she left me.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°The village was the safest place for you: away from those who would take advantage of you in Mendel and from the humans. It would have been easy to hide you in a place so secluded if you did turn out to be Linnaean.¡±

    Ember¡¯s stomach flipped again as she realized the scope of her mother¡¯s efforts, foiled in the end by her death, the withdrawal of financial support from her parents, and her husband¡¯s move to Ciradyl. ¡°How ironic that I ended up here regardless,¡± she commented.

    Silence overtook them, and as they walked, her eyes traced the trees, where the eerie darkness pooled at their roots. Only the immediate need to leave the cursed forest kept her from succumbing to the thoughts that rattled inside her mind like the wings of birds against the walls of a birdcage.

    But at last, she had answers to the questions that had plagued her since her arrival to Mendel¡ªshe knew her species, the golden lancehead viper, and a critical piece had been fit into the puzzle of her mother¡¯s disappearance.

 71: Survivor

    The latter half of May and the month of April passed quickly under Ember¡¯s strict regiment. Mornings training, days in class, evenings studying, and weekends with her friends melded together with comforting familiarity.

    Every other Sunday, as promised, she and Marcus visited Mr. Ernold, who told them of stories long lost beneath the tide of time. They spoke of times when humans treated Linnaeans as deities, caring for their ailments; of civilizations in the deep sea, away from the influence of the continent; of eras even more ancient, when insects as large as people ruled the land.

    When the old man grew hoarse, Ember pulled provisions from a wicker basket, and they all dined together in the living room. Afterward, she and Marcus always spent an hour tidying up the cottage, and the house was gradually restored. Though they kept watch with careful eyes upon their return, they never again saw the creature Quetzalcoatlus.

    Midterm week came and went in a flurry of action and anxiety. Ember found herself behind after the time she had spent neglecting her studies in the wake of the coup in Ciradyl, and when the grades were posted on their plaques, Ember wasn¡¯t surprised to see Roland¡¯s name rise even with hers. Blessedly, however, she heard little else of him and his precious Golden Eagle master¡ªit seemed that whatever new duties he had acquired were keeping him occupied.

    She trained consistently and constantly. She grappled with the reptiles, wielded her knife under Ophelia¡¯s watchful eye, sparred with Jisu, and tutored Carn and Naz. Her skin calloused and her infrared sharpened; at last, she could trust her body to move where and when she wanted. Now, more often than not, Ophelia nodded at her with approval rather than disappointment.

    Her mutations, too, progressed at a slow and steady rate. Her fangs were shed and re-capped twice; her irises, once light green, began to fade to gold. If there were times she felt restless or unsatisfied, they were quickly buried within the long and busy days¡ªher worry became a dull ache behind her eyes; always present, but bearable.

    Finals week was to be held the first week of May, and Ember faced the conclusion of her freshman year with a sort of exhausted relief. The long summer would bring more hours for training, and, hopefully, progress toward reuniting with father.

    The exams for her Biology II, History of Mendel, and Trigonometry classes proved unchallenging. Only the final for Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain, Ophelia¡¯s class, remained; and, inexplicably, the fireworm had blocked off an entire week for it on the schedule.

    The class met for the last time on a warm Thursday morning. The designated location for the final was even stranger than it had been for the midterm¡ªthey had been instructed to meet at the wall¡¯s western exit, three miles from the edge of campus. Even more ominously, there had been only five entries on the list of required materials: a canteen, a compass, a weapon, an item of choice, and enough treatment to last ten days.

    Ember sat with Jisu on a wide tree root, their weapons on their laps. Lance stood before them, fiddling with the fire striker he¡¯d brought as his chosen item. The weather was pleasant: warm enough for all three to wear their fighter¡¯s uniforms, but cool enough to exercise without overheating.

    Like the eastern wall through which Ember and her friends had gone to the farmer¡¯s market, the western wall was more modest than Mendel¡¯s northern border. Its trees were younger and tamer, and only a small guard outpost was stationed by the gate. While the land outside of the eastern gate had been farmland, however, a peek through a gap in the branches yielded only old forest, like what Ember¡¯s escort had passed through on its way to the city.

    From her perch on the root, Ember watched the other students arrive¡ªmost by draft animal, but a couple on foot¡ªand exchanged a few words with them as they settled in to wait for Ophelia. Even Gunther, the overbearing pisces, had shed his blatant hostility after the capture-the-flag exercise.

    Ophelia arrived exactly on time, riding on a speckled mare and followed closely by the insect TA and two graduate students. She dismounted carefully, and the class formed a semi-circle around her.

    The instructor took a moment to survey the group. With the morning light glinting off of her silvery armor and her orange bristles undulating in the breeze, she looked all the part a sea creature.

    ¡°None of you are beginner fighters,¡± she began, ¡°and the difficulty of our final exam reflects that. Today, you will all compete in a variation of the exercise called survivor. In this exercise, each of you will be issued a flare, which you must keep on your person at all times. Put simply, your goal is to be among the last to set off your flare.¡± Ember raised an eyebrow at Jisu, a silent comment on the fireworm¡¯s vagueness. ¡°The caveat,¡± Ophelia continued, ¡°is that this exercise will take place in the lands outside of the western exit.¡±

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    A ripple of gasps passed through the group of students, and even Ember, who regularly went outside of the walls to visit Mr. Ernold, felt uneasy.

    ¡°Rest assured,¡± the fireworm added, ¡°I have received permission from the headmaster¡¯s office. Myself, along with three graduate students, a medical assistant, and the guard on duty will be monitoring the area. We will establish camp here, on the other side of the wall, where you must check in by sundown each evening. This will be a safe zone¡ªno one will be spending the night in the forest alone, though we will not be supplying you with provisions, either.¡±

    ¡°Why outside the wall, though?¡± an amphibian asked nervously. Ember recognized him as Daniel, the Fowler¡¯s toad who had served as the lookout for Ember¡¯s team during capture the flag.

    ¡°The added barrier of the wall will make it difficult to cheat by returning to campus for supplies,¡± Ophelia explained. ¡°My aim is to gauge your wilderness survival skills, as is befitting for the true purpose of our class.¡±

    ¡°What happens if we set off our flares?¡± Lance asked.

    ¡°Good question. You will stay in camp until the exercise is over.¡± A collective groan went up. ¡°I can¡¯t have you quitting early just to return to the comfort of your dorms, can I?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the grading scale?¡± Ember chimed in.

    ¡°I was getting to that. The top 50% of students¡ªthe last seven to set off their flares¡ªwill pass. Out of those, the students in 4th and 5th place will receive Bs, and the top three students will receive As.¡±

    She paused, allowing the students time to process what she had said. Ember realized her true intentions almost instantly: no one would want a long, drawn-out game of starvation, so what had been presented as a test of survival was to become a battle royale. After all, how can you ensure you¡¯re the last to set off your flare unless you force others to do so first?

    Ember¡¯s eyes flitted around the semi-circle, watching the moment that each of the other students came to the same realization that she had.

    ¡°One last thing,¡± Ophelia added. ¡°Since you must return to camp every night, it will be difficult to travel too far. Still, avoid wandering too deep into the forest, especially in the north. Now, gather your things. We will begin soon.¡±

    With a flick of her wrist, she ordered the students to form a line, and she and the TAs inspected the items that they had been instructed to bring. Ember saw the hunger in her classmates¡¯ eyes each time a particularly useful item was presented, realizing that an asset could quickly become a burden; she was glad that she had brought something less immediately desirable¡ªa simple metal cup, used for cooking or boiling water.

    After the inspection, Ophelia shepherded the class toward the gate. The students talked among themselves desperately, forming half-baked alliances or offering to trade supplies. Although Ophelia didn¡¯t stop them, she didn¡¯t give them much time either, cutting them off mid-sentence in a call for silence.

    Ember looked for Lance and Jisu, finding the ermine in the center of the milling students and the panther on the fringes. She didn¡¯t waste time inquiring after them, knowing that neither would be interested in winning by teaming up against the other students. Instead, she threaded her belt through the canteen¡¯s hook and the cup¡¯s handle, affixing them to her waist, and pushed her flare deep into a buttoned pocket.

    Without preamble, Ophelia raised her arm, and she and the TAs spread out along the length of the wall. ¡°Your one-minute head start begins now,¡± she announced.

    Instantly, there was chaos. In their haste to run, several students fumbled their supplies. Meanwhile, others argued passionately about the terms of alliances already broken. Lance and Jisu disappeared between the trees, and out of the corner of her eye, Ember saw Daniel fade against a cluster of roots, visible only by her infrared.

    Ember took only a fraction of a second to assess the situation before taking off at a brisk run, distancing herself from what would certainly become a bloodbath. When the wall was just out of sight, she scrambled up a nearby tree and tucked herself against its trunk.

    Ophelia¡¯s shout marked the beginning of the exam. Immediately after, a blast sounded as an orange flare streaked through the sky. I wonder who that was, Ember thought, scanning the forest below to make sure that she was alone before settling in to think.

    There were two ways to win the fireworm¡¯s game¡ªshe could fight, and risk being forced to use her flare herself, or she could attempt to outlast the others. Objectively, she was in a good position for the latter strategy: she required little food, she could use her infrared to watch for threats, and she was a strong climber (though not entirely safe from Jisu and Lance). Still¡­ there¡¯s no way I¡¯m placing in the top three without a fight.

    She sighed, shifting so that a ray of sun fell onto her skin, and half-closed her eyes, the upcoming thrill of a hunt sending an exciting shiver up her body. She wouldn¡¯t degrade herself by wasting her strength in a melee¡ªshe¡¯d bide her time, and when the opportunity came, she¡¯d finish off her competitors and be the last to use her flare.

 72: Small Mercies & Forbidden Dinners

    In the end, Ember spent the entirety of the first day in the tree, stirring four times when the pop of a flare sounded over the steady buzz of the forests¡¯ comings and goings. She slipped down the trunk when the sky began to dim, her legs and buttocks sore from her prolonged rest, and picked a roundabout way back to the wall, scanning with her infrared every dozen paces.

    The remaining two-thirds of the class trickled in just after sundown, wary of falling into an ambush before they had reached the safe zone. Against the wall, Ophelia and her TAs had set up sturdy tents for themselves, and the five eliminated students had been issued a handful of smaller tents, inside which Ember spotted sleeping mats and blankets.

    Unsurprisingly, Ophelia ran a strict camp. The eliminated students were to have no contact with the current participants and were issued only a sleeping bag to ward off the night¡¯s chill. Even so, the group¡¯s spirits were high for having made it through the first day, and when Lance built a campfire, most of the others gathered around for some conversation.

    Ember sat back and listened, learning that two students had been eliminated in head-on-fights, and the other two in an ambush from Gunther and his underlings. Otherwise, there wasn¡¯t much news: a black bear had been spotted drinking from a stream, but had run off when startled; a pisces had found a hunting knife¡ªpresumably dropped by one of the eliminated students¡ªin a clearing to the northeast.

    At dinnertime, the smell of roast wafted from the camp, and Ember saw a couple of the students¡¯ mouths watering¡ªafter that, there was less talk, and the group split into smaller cliques. Jisu etched a circular gameboard into the soil, and she, Ember, and Lance took turns playing Mehen, a game from her hometown in the Hecatomb mountains.

    Around midnight, they found sleeping spots against the trunk of an old oak, caged in by its rolling roots. Jisu slept furthest from the center, keeping watch over the others (though she insisted it was because she felt claustrophobic), and Ember angled herself below a parting of the branches and fell asleep beneath the bright pinpricks of the stars.

    ***

    Ophelia woke them up just before sunup with a blast from a horn. Ember jerked harshly awake, nearly falling from her spot; they hadn¡¯t been allowed much sleep, which she saw reflected in the eyes of the remaining students as they gathered obediently around Ophelia. The 30-second head start was repeated, and this time, all of the participants scattered into the woods.

    Ember re-established herself in the tree from the day before, settling on a branch ten feet above the ground and watching the clouds through the gaps in the leaves. Twice she heard the sound of distant fighting, but it wasn¡¯t close enough to tell who was involved.

    Around noon, footsteps began to crunch toward her tree. She sat up, keeping herself out of view, and leaned forward¡ªit was a mammalian Linnaean who had been on the opposite team during capture the flag, someone Ember knew only well enough to be certain that she was the stronger fighter.

    She watched as the mammal walked nearly underneath the tree, considering letting him pass unmolested. Then, she thought of Lance and Jisu, who might be feeling hunger gnawing at their bellies already, and changed her mind.

    She dropped down from the branch, not bothering to pull the knife from its sheath. ¡°Behind you,¡± she warned, though it would have been easy to grab his flare long before he took notice of her. He whipped around, his eyes as wide as saucers, and she saw defeat dawn behind them as he recognized her. Still, he unlatched his weapon¡ªa tactical machete, its blade dulled by the rubber coating¡ªfrom his hip and squared off against her, giving a slight nod to indicate that he was ready.

    It was over quickly. Ember leaped forward, her knee striking his wielding arm at the joint and sending the machine flying from his hand. Using his backward momentum against him, she swept out his bottom legs and pinned him against the ground.

    After a minute of struggling, he tapped out against her arm. They sat together on the forest floor as he pulled the release on the cylindrical flare, sending a red streak arching above the trees. ¡°Good game,¡± she said, offering her hand to help him stand.

    He shook his head, a little disgruntled, but not angry. ¡°I should¡¯ve thought of the trees,¡± he admitted. ¡°At least now I can get something to eat.¡±

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    Before she could reply, he reached out and pressed something into her hand: a roll of field dressings, his extra item. She looked down at them, unable to think of what to say. ¡°Thanks for giving me the chance to fight,¡± he said. ¡°Watch out for Gunther¡¯s group. They took out Amelia this morning.¡±

    He retreated to the camp without another word. She watched him go, feeling slightly off-kilter, then assessed the position of the sun. It had been over twenty-four hours since the start of the exam. Her canteen was about half full; she would need to find water soon and food if the exam went on long enough, but she thought it best to wait to venture out when the number of participants had dwindled lower.

    She settled back in the tree, finding a position that alleviated her soreness, and busied herself with practicing her infrared until sundown.

    ***

    The energy on the second night was more subdued than on the first. Eight students trickled into the camp: herself, Jisu, Lance, Daniel, Craig, and Gunther¡¯s team of three, meaning only two more had been eliminated.

    There wasn¡¯t much talk among the participants. Daniel rocked back and forth on his heels, looking miserable, and even Jisu was disgruntled after returning from nature¡¯s calling. When the smell of food wafted over from Ophelia¡¯s camp, a fierce argument broke out underneath the tree where Gunther¡¯s team had settled.

    As dusk deepened, Ember, Jisu, and Lance returned to the tree where they¡¯d spent the first night. They exchanged a few words, but Ember could tell from the dark bags under her friends¡¯ eyes that they weren¡¯t up for a round of games.

    Ember lit a fire with Lance¡¯s gear, and the ermine lay propped up against a tall root, half-asleep but uneasy. Jisu offered him a few strips of leaf-wrapped squirrel meat, which he gratefully accepted, and busied herself by gnawing on the end of a thigh bone.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Ember asked, angling her chin at a long, thin cut running up the ermine¡¯s calf.

    He stirred, and the dying firelight caught on the newly bruised skin disappearing under his collar. ¡°Gunther¡¯s group is targeting me. I¡¯m an easier mark than you, Jisu, or Craig, and they couldn¡¯t find Daniel yesterday.¡±

    ¡°That piece of shit,¡± Ember said under her breath, the thin layer of goodwill she¡¯d built up with the pisces over the last few months disappearing completely. Waving away Lance¡¯s protests, she trapped his calf between her feet to bandage it. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you get eliminated by that coward.¡±

    She was tying off the dressing¡ªLance¡¯s calf was thin, and she had only used a third of the roll¡ªwhen they were startled by raised voices. The three exchanged an alarmed look and rose to their feet in search of the source of the commotion.

    Ember stopped at a gap between the trees, hiding herself in shadow. About twenty yards away, where Gunther and his two lackeys had set up camp, Ophelia and a group of students were locked in a heated debate. The instructor was standing with her back to Ember, her hands on her hips and her spines standing at attention.

    ¡°That guy was eliminated yesterday,¡± Jisu said as she and Lance came up behind Ember, pointing to a mammal who had slumped so far into himself it looked as though he was trying to disappear. Strangely enough, he was clothed in all black, with an extra shirt worn over his head like a hood.

    ¡°I know what I saw,¡± Ophelia said, her voice cutting through Gunther¡¯s half-cocked explanation. She strode past the pisces, stooping in the dirt, and reemerged a moment later with her arms dirtied and her hands filled with a mess of dark objects. It took Ember a moment to realize that the fireworm had dug up the remains of a forbidden dinner, no doubt snuck into Gunther¡¯s camp by the sheepish-looking mammal and then hastily buried.

    Jisu let out a poorly concealed scoff, and Ember added cheating to the list of Gunther¡¯s offenses.

    ¡°I am utterly ashamed of you,¡± Ophelia said, and Ember could picture her disgusted frown. ¡°I was quite clear that there was to be no communication between the active and eliminated participants.¡±

    The accused spoke over each other, their voices high-pitched in desperation. Ember rolled her eyes into the darkness, Jisu¡¯s murmur of ¡®pathetic¡¯ echoing the sentiment beside her.

    Ophelia lowered her voice, and Ember had to strain to hear her. ¡°I understand that you are all stretched thin, so I¡¯m going to dock you twenty points and let you off with a warning. If this behavior happens again, you will be receiving zeros for the final and a disciplinary report.¡±

    A just punishment, if a little lenient. She doesn¡¯t want to end their exams and send them back to the comfort of camp. Ember looked over at her friends for their opinion, only to find Lance walking back toward their tree with stooped shoulders.

    She shot a questioning look at Jisu, who spat the squirrel bone from her lips and grimaced. ¡°With that penalty, they can only pass by taking the top three slots. They¡¯ll have their eyes on him tomorrow.¡±

    Ember scowled. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°Nothing we can do,¡± the panther added, but the downward turn of her brows told Ember that she wasn¡¯t entirely convinced.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Ember said, anger stirring inside her chest like the awakening of a slumbering beast. ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch tonight.¡±

 73: Costly Errors & Self-Sacrifices

    Contrary to Lance¡¯s wish, the blast of Ophelia¡¯s horn seemed to come even sooner than the night before. As they gathered around her for the go-ahead, Ember assessed the others: Craig, the elephant who had defended the flag against Ember, was as impassive as ever; Lance wore a drawn but determined expression, favoring his uninjured leg; Jisu¡¯s predacious energy rolled off her in waves; and Daniel shifted from one foot to the other, looking ready to piss himself.

    Only Gunther¡¯s group gave Ember pause. As expected, all three members were haggard and careworn, but something was concealed in the hasty glances they exchanged when they thought the other students weren¡¯t watching. Most disconcertingly, their pisces leader had a self-satisfied glint in his eye which seemed to be directed at Daniel.

    Ember scowled, doing a quick jog in place to warm up her muscles. ¡°Prepare yourselves,¡± Ophelia said. ¡°Your head start begins now!¡±

    Ember realized what Gunther was planning just as Ophelia¡¯s arm slashed downward. Instead of scattering, Gunther¡¯s team edged closer to Daniel, preventing him from finding a place to hide as he had on the two previous days.

    Later, Ember couldn¡¯t explain exactly why she had chosen to act¡ªafter all, they were well within Ophelia¡¯s rules¡ªbut when the head-start ended and Gunther charged at the cowering toad, Ember changed direction and threw herself bodily at the pisces.

    It was not her most elegant attempt at a take-down, and Gunther was broader than both Amir and Marcus. His armored scutes were as hard as stone, cutting the unprotected skin between her patches of scales. She failed to unbalance him completely, and as the other members of his team turned to help, Daniel temporarily forgotten, she bared her fangs and prepared to fight a losing battle.

    Something smacked her on the side of the face, and without stopping Jisu tripped one of Gunther¡¯s lackeys and kicked the other in the stomach hard enough for him to expel the half-digested scraps of the previous night¡¯s poached dinner. ¡°You could help me!¡± Ember shouted, detaching herself from Gunther¡¯s grasp with a sharp twist of her wrist.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got this!¡± the panther laughed, her tail slashing whip-like behind her as she disappeared into the woods.

    Ember muttered a curse after her. Alone, she had a decent chance of beating the two lackeys, but not before their leader managed to take her down. After a quick glance to make sure that Daniel had slipped away, she took off to the north, easily outpacing her pursuers. Behind her, Gunther let out a shout of frustration, a crack splitting the air as he kicked an unsuspecting sapling.

    Ember jogged a mile north, climbing a tree with a view of the wall once she was confident she wasn¡¯t being followed. She took a couple of hours to recover, but when morning turned into afternoon, she found her canteen running low and the beginnings of hunger gnawing at her belly. The fight had made her restless, too, so she wasn¡¯t altogether unhappy to gather her things and set off into the forest.

    The vegetation grew denser the further she moved away from the wall, and scanning with her infrared made her progress frustratingly slow. She was confident that she would be able to hear Gunther¡¯s team approach, and she suspected that Craig was taking a defensive position, but she couldn¡¯t afford to be caught unawares by Jisu or Lance.

    At last, she caught the sound of gurgling and followed it to a thin, rocky stream. Nearby, an elk was bowing its head to drink, and it looked up and regarded her with wary eyes at her approach. I suppose the animals are wilder outside of the walls, she thought, taking a few steps back so as not to startle it. Her mouth watered unsettlingly, and she had to shake her head to rid herself of the urge to hunt: it would be wasteful, and she had little knowledge of how to prepare such a large carcass.

    She stooped and filled her canteen to the brim, planning to try her hand at starting a fire to boil it¡ªor, if worse came to worst, to beg the use of Lance¡¯s firestarter when they met at camp that night. As she rose in search of a smaller prey, shouts cut through the low sounds of the forest, startling the elk.

    Ember stood with her head cocked, debating if it was worth the risk to investigate. Then, at the sound of a familiar yell, her legs were carrying her toward the fight of their own accord.

    In a clearing surrounded by old oaks, Lance was fighting all-out against Gunther¡¯s team. He was a white-haired blur, his body contorting as he struck at the pisces and his lackeys with his dulled dagger and his short claws, and Ember was struck by how much he had improved since they had met in Mr. Badger¡¯s class. Still, it wouldn¡¯t be long until he was beaten: he was favoring one leg, keeping him from running away, and his blows could only do superficial damage to Gunther¡¯s natural armor.

    Ember took a deep breath, hoping that Lance would see her involvement not as a rescue mission, but as capitalizing on the opportunity to take out Gunther¡¯s team. The pisces was the strongest fighter, but Lance¡¯s agility temporarily gave him the upper hand, so Ember focused instead on a wiry-looking mammal who was retrieving a homemade pike from a nearby thicket.

    She grabbed the mammal from behind, wrapping one arm around his torso and clamping her other hand over his mouth. With a heave, she dragged him half-through, half-over the bush, completely unnoticed by the others.

    He squirmed, attempting to poke her with the pike, but she caught the shaft under the toe of her boot and cracked it in half. She tugged him against her, wrapping her forearm around his neck and compressing both carotid arteries in a blood choke.

    It took only fifteen seconds before he crumpled, his protests lost to the sounds of nearby fighting. Quickly, she dug into his pockets, but his flare was nowhere to be found, another violation of Ophelia¡¯s rules. She looked back through the bush, spotting a pack abandoned in the center of the clearing: and in its front pocket, a suspiciously flare-shaped bulge.

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    Realizing that the sounds of fighting had quieted, Ember whipped back toward the fighters. Gunther and his remaining lackey, a stout striped insect, had managed to cage Lance against a tree. The pisces lunged for the ermine, grabbing his bicep in a vice-like hold and shaking him like a ragdoll.

    Lance went slack in his grip, forcing him to readjust, and Ember cracked a smile as she predicted what was going to happen¡ªsure enough, the moment the pisces dropped his guard, the ermine punched him full-on in the face. To his credit, Gunther¡¯s grip didn¡¯t slacken, but Ember swelled with pride as his head jerked back, blood spraying from his nose and his right eye clamped shut.

    Gunther recovered quickly, an incensed expression overtaking his pain as he leaned forward to scream in Lance¡¯s face, blood and spittle splattering against the ermine¡¯s pale skin.

    Ember grimaced. He might really hurt him. I guess that¡¯s my cue. She skirted the thicket, coming as close as she could to the scene. Even with the element of surprise, she doubted that she could take down the much heavier pisces, especially if her earlier attempt was any indication. And in the forest with no supervision, anything could happen. She took a shaky breath, her heart beating painfully fast against her ribcage, and counted to three.

    She came at Gunther with a flying head-kick, one of Jisu¡¯s moves. He stumbled away from Lance, bringing his forearm up in time to block the brunt of the strike. She landed in a crouch and sprang at him again before he had time to recover.

    She quickly discovered that his armor did more damage to her fists than she could do to him, and her fang knife had no chance of penetrating with its dulled edge. Instead, she aimed rapid blows to his pressure points: his jaw, the base of his throat, and his bladder. It was highly specific, technical work, made more difficult by having to hold herself back so as to not cause permanent damage. She spared a glance at Lance, finding him holding his own against the beetle.

    Gunther spread his stance and guarded himself as best he could against the barrage, but she could tell from his grunts that she was wearing him down. She raised her right leg and drove her hips forward, striking his solar plexus with the ball of her foot. He doubled over, gasping for air, and she angled herself for a finishing blow.

    Then, suddenly, he straightened up faster than she would¡¯ve thought possible, and something slammed into her side with a force like a charging bull. Skin, flesh, and bone gave way beneath it, and she flew across the clearing, her vision going black. She landed hard on her tailbone, pain blossoming from her ribs. Fuck.

    ¡°Ember!¡± Lance yelled, and she forced her eyes open. Gunther was stalking toward her, a short ax¡ªhis weapon of choice, she remembered belatedly¡ªheld in one hand. It was properly dulled, but he had swung it like a club to catch her unawares.

    She groaned, and blood leaked between her teeth from where she¡¯d bitten her tongue. She could breathe, so a lung wasn¡¯t punctured, but she had definitely felt a crack where the ax had met her ribs. If not for Amir¡¯s bone-hardening training, she would have been immobilized.

    She had only a second before Gunther reached her. She could tell from his unbalanced walk that his ploy had cost him, too. Behind him, Lance was wrenching free of the insect, about to come after her. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, making a cross with her pointer finger over her Achilles tendon.

    ¡°Come finish it, then,¡± she snarled at Gunther, drawing all of his attention to her. At the same time, Lance evaded the insect¡¯s grasp and lunged at the pisces from behind, drawing his dagger from his belt and ramming the blade¡¯s long edge into the soft flesh at the back of his left ankle.

    Gunther let out a shout of pain, falling to his knees. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Ember yelled, stumbling to her feet and shaking her head to rid herself of the stars swarming her vision. Remembering the mammal she¡¯d defeated, she scooped up the forgotten pack and tossed it to Lance, who caught it against his chest.

    Together, they took off from the clearing at a slow run, every step sending stabbing pains up Ember¡¯s side. Behind them, Gunther attempted to stagger to his feet, only to fall back down. The beetle came reluctantly to him, making no attempt at pursuit.

    When the immediate danger had passed, Ember took the bag from Lance and felt around for the flare. Sure enough, it had been stashed away in the side pocket, and she pointed it at the sky and pulled the release. ¡°We got one¡­ at least,¡± Ember panted. ¡°But we need¡­ to put distance between us. Jisu¡­ will be out hunting.¡±

    Her friend looked at her with concerned eyes. ¡°I appreciate what you did, Ember, but are you sure you don¡¯t need to stop now? I¡¯ll come with you, and we¡¯ll both pass.¡±

    Ember shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re bleeding,¡± he argued, gesturing to where blood was pooling at the hem of her uniform shirt. ¡°If you¡¯re doing this to protect Daniel and Jisu-¡±

    They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and Ember cursed herself for her second oversight of the day: forgetting to scan ahead with her infrared. The vegetation rustled, and she prepared herself for Jisu or Craig to come to finish them off.

    Instead, it was only the amiable insect TA who emerged from the underbrush. ¡°All right?¡± he asked, and she stood straighter, angling her torso so he wouldn¡¯t see the bloodstain.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Lance said, and she nodded.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°Who¡¯s out?¡±

    ¡°The mammal that was allied with Gunther,¡± Ember answered, careful to keep the pain from her voice. ¡°He¡¯s passed out behind a bush.¡±

    ¡°Good work.¡±

    Once he was out of view, Ember and Lance resumed their slow march south. Lance didn¡¯t restart the argument, no doubt realizing that trying to convince her to drop out was futile. When they¡¯d made it a suitable distance¡ªdoubling back once to make themselves difficult to track¡ªthey stopped and found shelter in the hollow of a redwood.

    Ember pulled off her shirt while Lance gathered wood for a small fire. The damage was as bad as she had expected: where the ax had met her ribs, there was a swollen and reddening hematoma cut through with an angry gash.

    Using Ember¡¯s metal cup, Lance boiled enough water to clean her wound and drink their fill. He crouched over her, dabbing at the gash with a scowl. ¡°Not much blood, right?¡± she said, attempting a smile.

    He rolled his eyes, wrapping her torso tightly with the field dressings. ¡°You know the blood is the least worrisome part.¡±

    When he was finished, they settled back down to wait for the evening to come. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, putting his arms behind his head and leaning against the inner wall of the redwood. ¡°I was afraid, back there. I really thought Gunther was going to kill me.¡±

    Ember inclined her head. ¡°You got him good with that punch. I almost gave away my position from laughing.¡±

    They both chuckled, but he sobered after a moment. ¡°After this, our chances against the others aren¡¯t good.¡±

    ¡°Our? So what, are we allies now?¡±

    He laughed. ¡°I know you¡¯ll argue if I say that I¡¯m just sticking around to help you get first place¡ªwhich you undoubtedly deserve¡ªso how about we leave it off until tomorrow morning?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± she agreed, resting her head on his outstretched legs. ¡°Wake me up when it¡¯s time to walk back to camp, will you?¡±

 74: Sabotage

    Ember and Lance were the last to arrive at Ophelia¡¯s camp on the third night of the exam, having taken longer than expected to find their way back from where they¡¯d stopped to rest after the fight. They crossed the threshold fifteen minutes after sundown, sweat speckling their foreheads and their limbs dragging with exhaustion. As she walked through the camp, careful to conceal her injuries from the other participants, Ember found that all six of the other students were accounted for: Jisu, Lance, Daniel, Craig, and Gunther¡¯s team of two.

    When they had almost reached the oak around which they¡¯d spent the last several nights, Ember became aware of the sound of padding footsteps trailing in her wake. She turned to see an anxious-looking Daniel, who held up his hands as if in surrender. She hadn¡¯t gotten a good look at him when she had defended him against Gunther¡¯s team, but other than his frayed nerves, the Fowler¡¯s toad looked healthy¡ªarguably better than herself, in fact. He had lost none of the weight around his belly, and he seemed uninjured other than a smattering of bruises from where he¡¯d fallen on his knees.

    ¡°Is everything all right?¡± Lance asked, and after stuttering an intelligible reply, Daniel thrust a leaf-wrapped bundle into Ember¡¯s hands.

    She tugged the package open by the corner. Resting on the inner leaflet was a sizable helping of crispy insects: grasshoppers, mealworms, and what she thought might be termites. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Daniel, what¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°T-they¡¯re for you,¡± he explained, fiddling with his hands. ¡°I f-found them t-today, and c-cooked them before you came. As a thank you.¡±

    Ember looked down at the bugs, and then back at the amphibian. What the hell, she thought, popping one of the termites into her mouth. Morgan likes them.

    The taste wasn¡¯t altogether pleasant: dirt-like, with a persistent texture that coated her molars. Daniel looked so hopeful, though, that she found herself swallowing with a forced smile. ¡°Mhm! Very¡­ vegetal.¡± Next to her, Lance stifled a laugh.

    ¡°Do you want to stay with us, tonight, Daniel?¡± Ember asked, redirecting the conversation. ¡°Perhaps Lance would like to try some bugs?¡±

    ¡°Really?!¡± the toad exclaimed.

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    Still looking nervous, he followed on Ember and Lance¡¯s heels as they rounded their sleeping spot. Ember was surprised to see Jisu propped up against the trunk on the lowest branch, her jaw purpling and her left leg hanging stiffly over the edge.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± Ember asked. A flash of what might have been embarrassment flashed across Jisu¡¯s face, but she schooled her expression and shrugged.

    Ember ran a quick mental checklist of the day¡¯s events: the only person to drop out was the mammal that she had fought, she and Lance had occupied Gunther¡¯s team, and Daniel was still in the game. ¡°Wait¡­ you tried to fight Craig, didn¡¯t you?¡± she asked, unable to hide the mirth from her voice.

    Jisu¡¯s face pinched as if she¡¯d tasted something sour. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°It took three of us to beat him during capture the flag, and that was temporary. You¡¯re damn lucky he didn¡¯t take your flare.¡±

    Muttering something that might have been ¡®whatever,¡¯ Jisu flipped on her branch to face away from Ember in sullen silence.

    Shaking her head, Ember turned her attention to her and Lance¡¯s wounds. The roll of bandages that had been gifted to her was dwindling, and she understood the importance of keeping wounds clean to prevent infection. Though some of her peers could use herbs, all she knew of herbology was from Professor Hickory¡¯s class, which had rarely focused on medicine¡ªso, realistically, she and Lance had one or two days left in the competition before they would have to seek medical attention.

    It was already dark, and the clouded sky blocked the light of the stars. ¡°Let¡¯s try to rest now,¡± she suggested.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch,¡± Lance offered, and she could see from his expression that he couldn¡¯t be persuaded out of it. She sighed, sliding into her sleeping bag as best she could with the pain in her ribs, forced herself to nibble on a few more insects, and then fell into a fitful sleep.

    ***

    On the morning of the fourth day, Ember was awoken not by the blast of Ophelia¡¯s horn, but by the sound of groaning and retching. It was a terrible, painful sound, like turning one¡¯s guts inside out. She was immediately alert, reminded of the long nights she had spent assisting in the care of ill patients in Ciradyl¡¯s infirmary; patients who had died more often than not, unable to keep down more fluids than they lost.

    She rose to her feet in an instant, sucking in an uneven breath as she awakened the pain along her side. Daniel, who had been half-asleep on watch, looked up at her with worry.  ¡°Jisu!¡± she hissed, knowing the cat would be the fastest.

    Her green eyes snapped open. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Get Ophelia and the medic.¡± Without question, the panther jumped from her branch and ran toward camp, only slightly hindered by her injured leg.

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    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with Lance for now?¡± Daniel asked, and she agreed; the ermine was still sleeping, and she didn¡¯t want to wake the entire camp unless it was strictly necessary.

    It didn¡¯t take long for her to follow the sounds to their source, and the scene was an ugly one even in the darkness. Craig was on his hands and knees in a nest of pine needles, upending the scant contents of his stomach. She ran to his side, swallowing down her own nausea and pointedly not looking at what was happening at the other end of his body.

    ¡°Ophelia is coming,¡± she reassured him, helping to support his weight as he leaned forward to throw up again.

    Jisu appeared only a minute later with the fireworm and medic in tow. Their lanterns threw light onto the elephant¡¯s pallid face and the pile of green bile beneath him. ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± Ophelia demanded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I heard him from my camp.¡±

    The medic crouched, scrutinizing the elephant¡¯s face. ¡°There¡¯s a rash on his lips,¡± he said, sounding queasy himself. ¡°He¡¯s eaten something contaminated.¡±

    Ophelia touched Craig¡¯s back, and Ember saw the panic underneath her mask of calm. ¡°How serious?¡±

    The medic shook his head. ¡°I need to take him to the infirmary now. But without knowing exactly what he¡¯s eaten, it¡¯s going to be very difficult to treat.¡±

    The fireworm nodded, pausing to think for only a moment. ¡°Jisu, go get the guard to help transport Craig. Ember, you and I need to search the camp.¡±

    As the instructor turned to Craig¡¯s sleeping bag, Ember rooted around beneath the tree he¡¯d slept under, finding his canteen half-hidden by fallen leaves. It was nearly empty, but she poured the rest of the water into the cap and sniffed it. It wasn¡¯t overwhelming, but there was a bitterness to the smell that made her think it might not be water.

    She passed the cap to the fireworm, who took a moment to examine it. ¡°This has been mixed with something.¡±

    ¡°Mixed? Like poisoned?¡±

    Ophelia¡¯s dark look was enough of an answer. ¡°Bring everyone here,¡± she ordered. ¡°As fast as you can.¡±

    Ember did as she was told. She roused Gunther first, who seemed ready to attack before she rushed through a hurried explanation, and then her friends. By the time she returned to Craig¡¯s camp, a small crowd of TAs, eliminated students, and the remaining participants had gathered. The flickering lantern light illuminated the exhaustion on their faces, and the air was filled with anxious murmurs.

    Behind the group, the medic and guard were situating Craig on the back of a draft animal, and Ember angled herself in front of the scene to protect his dignity.

    Ophelia paced back in forth, her expression fierce. ¡°I¡¯ll get right to the point,¡± she said. ¡°One of you put something in Craig¡¯s water, and I need to know what it was right now. His life could be at stake.¡±

    No one spoke, and the instructor gritted her teeth in frustration. For the first time, Ember thought about how young Ophelia was¡ªshe was an undoubtedly strong fighter, but only thirty at most, with much less leadership experience than Ember¡¯s other professors.

    As she wracked her brain for something to help, Ember¡¯s mind flashed back to how the medic had first identified the poisoning: the rash around Gunther¡¯s lips. ¡°Professor,¡± she said, setting her jaw as all eyes turned to her, ¡°their hands.¡±

    Ophelia¡¯s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she grasped Ember¡¯s meaning. ¡°All students line up and hold out your hands!¡±

    After Ember was checked (with hardly a cursory glance), she stood off to the side, watching the others. Ophelia poured over them swiftly until she reached the beetle, who seemed to be angling his hands into the shadows. She gripped them by the wrists, bringing them further into the light, and a gasp rose among the other students: a red, bubbly rash curled around his arms.

    Ophelia lowered herself to his level, her eyes locking on his.  ¡°What did you use?¡± she demanded, power simmering underneath each syllable. Ember said a quick prayer that it wouldn¡¯t be one of the worst poisons, like nightshade or hemlock.

    ¡°The r-root of the plant with the p-purple berries,¡± the beetle choked out, leaning as far away from her as possible. ¡°I s-steeped it in w-water from the s-stream.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pokeweed!¡± Ophelia yelled, and the medic¡¯s shoulders visibly relaxed.

    ¡°Thank god. He should recover in two days with the right treatment.¡±

    Ember exhaled, and she saw the relief on her friends¡¯ faces. With a quick word to Ophelia, the medic and the guard led the draft animal away and through the city¡¯s gates.

    The fireworm watched them leave, and when she turned back toward the small crowd all of her attention was on the perpetrator. She pulled him a short distance away, questioning him with barely suppressed rage.

    Jisu and Lance drew nearer to Ember, watching the exchange. Ember could see her own disgust mirrored on their faces¡ªthey may have had rivalries with Craig, but none of them wanted to see a great fighter reduced to such a state by foul play. ¡°That could have been any of us if we didn¡¯t have a watch,¡± she pointed out, her stomach lurching at the thought.

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious Gunther put him up to it,¡± Jisu spat.

    ¡°But will the beetle give him up?¡± Lance asked, his mouth downturned with worry.

    The question was answered when Ophelia returned, the beetle¡¯s bicep still held firmly in her hand and tears shining in his eyes. ¡°Here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen now,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m going to go to the infirmary and make sure that Craig gets through the worst of this, but hopefully, I will be back by morning.¡±

    The three friends exchanged a look. No mention of Gunther.

    ¡°Is the exam going to continue?¡± one of the graduate students asked, her tone implying that she thought the idea was ill-advised.

    The fireworm raised her chin. ¡°Yes.¡±

    There was a collective intake of breath at her answer, but Ember wasn¡¯t overly surprised¡ªthey were Linnaeans after all, and her classes at the university had always been dangerous. Ending the exam early would be admitting defeat; a failure for both Ophelia and her students.

    ¡°I am going to send another medic as soon as I reach the infirmary, though I sincerely hope none of you will be needing medical attention again,¡± Ophelia added, holding up a hand to make it clear that she would hear no arguments. ¡°If I¡¯m not back in time, the TAs will start the exam. There are only five of you now, so it will be more manageable. Good luck to you all, and I expect to see no more disappointments.¡± She nodded once, curtly, and started off toward the gate with the beetle still held closely.

    There was a long minute of pregnant silence, until, finally, the insect TA found his voice. ¡°I know it¡¯s been a long night,¡± he said, his tone apologetic. ¡°Why don¡¯t you all get a couple more hours of sleep?¡±

 75: An Arrow-Downed Crow

    Ember didn¡¯t sleep again before the start of the fourth day of the exam. Whether because Ophelia had taken her horn with her or because it had been lost in the chaos, the TAs rounded up the students by shouting and banging some cookware together, which only worsened the headache worming its way into her temples. She was stiff, hungry, and irritable, and even breathing didn¡¯t come easily.

    ¡°I guess Ophelia isn¡¯t back, then,¡± Lance said, rubbing his eyes.

    Ember shook her head, offering him a hand on her uninjured side. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it.¡± Jisu had already left, so they shook a bleary Daniel awake and followed her to the front of the camp.

    The mood was somber as the five remaining participants gathered around the three graduate students. ¡°Good morning,¡± the insect TA said, looking harried from what Ember had assumed had been a long couple of hours of debate with the others. ¡°As you¡¯ve surely noticed, Ophelia isn¡¯t back yet, although she sent word that Craig is beginning to recover. Luckily, the medic that she sent just arrived at camp.¡±

    Another TA, a colorful avian, nodded in support. ¡°This will all be over soon, so do your best.¡±

    The last TA, the mammal who had expressed her displeasure at Ophelia continuing the exam, folded her arms over her chest. ¡°And there better not be any more rules broken today.¡±

    ¡°Alright, then,¡± the insect said, clapping once, ¡°let¡¯s start.¡±

    There was a moment of confusion as the students realized that the exam was officially beginning again. As usual, Jisu was the first to take off, while Ember stayed close to Lance and Daniel. Gunther only spared them a scornful glance before disappearing, evidently unwilling to risk another confrontation with her.

    Ember hesitated. It was one thing to ally herself with Lance¡ªhe had made his intentions clear to drop out once Gunther was beaten¡ªbut protecting Daniel had always been a spur-of-the-moment decision, and traveling together would only prolong the exam.

    With the toad¡¯s wide eyes on her, though, her resolve wavered. ¡°Would you want to-¡±

    ¡°T-thanks for your help,¡± he interrupted, ¡°b-but I think it¡¯s safest for all of us if I find a place to hide.¡±

    Ember breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he understood the situation. She watched him walk away until he was out of sight, willing him to stay safe.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go down to the stream,¡± Lance said, breaking the silence. ¡°I drank the rest of my water this morning.¡±

    Ember agreed, and they began the hike north. It wasn¡¯t long before their view of the city¡¯s wall was swallowed by the dense vegetation, too thick for Ember to scan with her infrared without hindering their progress.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready for this to end,¡± Lance said, wiping his forehead. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m cut out to be a ranker.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve already passed this exam,¡± Ember pointed out.

    ¡°At this point, I just want to see my family.¡±

    It took Ember a second to register what he¡¯d said. ¡°Your family? Do they live in Mendel?¡±

    A small smile spread across his face. ¡°My grandparents settled here when they were young. My grandmother, my parents, and my sister still live here today. I know how lucky I am.¡±

    ¡°You were born here, then.¡±

    He nodded, and Ember felt a bolt of jealousy. Would I have had what he does if my mother had not hidden me in Maple Valley?

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Lance said, and Ember realized that they had reached the banks of the stream. The sun had already risen midway through the sky, and it cast a glow over the gurgling water and the silver-scaled minnows flashing beneath its surface.

    The ermine tugged off his boots and rolled up his pant legs. ¡°I¡¯m going to try for some fish or crawfish,¡± he explained, wading downstream.

    Ember followed his lead, parting the reeds and crouching to fill her canteen. While she was usually averse to water, the riverbed was only as deep as her knees, and it was a relief to wash the dirt trails from her skin. She made her way across, holding branches to keep her balance and overturning stones with her toes.

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    A splash of red on the opposite bank caught her eye, foreign against the woodland greens and browns. She drew nearer, detangling it from where it was wedged between a root and a cattail. ¡°It¡¯s an unspent flare,¡± she called to Lance, who had been attempting to grab a trout as it rushed past.

    He peered over, his eyebrows knitting together. ¡°It looks like it was carried down the river.¡± He sniffed it but shook his head. ¡°The scent¡¯s lost.¡±

    Ember scowled. ¡°Daniel went northwest, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but he can¡¯t have gotten far. Maybe he doesn¡¯t know  he dropped it?¡±

    Ember groaned. ¡°I should take out that stupid toad myself.¡± She flung a stone down the stream, watching as it landed with a splash and sunk below the surface.

    ¡°You want to go after him, don¡¯t you?¡± Lance asked in a resigned tone.

    Ember sighed. ¡°What if something¡¯s happened?¡±

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll follow the stream for a little bit, but if we don¡¯t find him soon, we¡¯re coming back. We need to wash our bandages and find something to eat.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ember agreed, pocketing the dripping flare.

    They skirted the river for the better part of thirty minutes, stopping once for Lance to peal the edible cambium off of a linden tree. Between Ember¡¯s stiff gait and Lance¡¯s limp, she thought they must look a pathetic pair. She activated her infrared, watching as the flesh beneath the lesion on his calf turned the red and white characteristic of inflammation.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m all right for now,¡± he answered, but Ember knew him well enough to see the strain underneath his expression.

    ¡°Let¡¯s turn back here-¡± she started to suggest but stopped as something caught her attention: a fresh trail through the underbrush, deviating from the river. She touched her fingers to the broken ends of the branches, and they came back slick with blood. ¡°A wounded animal, maybe? Was someone hunting?¡±

    The ermine grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. There¡¯s no fur or feathers or anything.¡± He leaned down and sniffed at the spot, his eyes widening. ¡°Ember, it has Daniel¡¯s scent.¡±

    Ember frowned uneasily, thinking of his flare¡ªthe only way of alerting the TAs¡ªin her pocket. ¡°We should get help,¡± Lance said. ¡°It might not be Gunther who hurt him. There are bears and big cats out here.¡±

    Ember tilted her head up, looking at the sun. We¡¯re already miles away from camp. ¡°You go back,¡± she told Lance, spinning him around by his shoulder. ¡°Bring Ophelia if you can.¡±

    ¡°No way,¡± he argued, shaking his head.

    ¡°There¡¯s no time for this,¡± she stressed. ¡°You¡¯re a better navigator than I am; you won¡¯t have any trouble leading Ophelia back here.¡±

    ¡°But how will you find him?¡±

    Ember gestured at the trail. ¡°It¡¯s as obvious as if a bull charged through here.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t like this.¡±

    ¡°Listen. Knowing Daniel, he¡¯s cut himself on a rock and gotten lost. It makes more sense for me to go: I can scan ahead with my infrared, and I know first aid.¡± And I¡¯m the better fighter.

    Lance scowled. ¡°Fine. But please, Ember, be careful.¡±

    ¡°I will. You too.¡±

    He shot her one last unhappy glance and then turned back down the river, walking as quickly as he could on his injured leg.

    As Ember started in the opposite direction, the creeping sensation at her back was eerily reminiscent of when she had left Naz behind to save Carn from the margay.  No matter what she had told Lance, she didn¡¯t think that Daniel had injured himself¡ªit was far more likely that he had been attacked here, where he had left the stream, and dropped his flare in the process.

    She stooped down to inspect the trail once she was out of sight of the river. Overlaying Daniel¡¯s characteristically webbed footprints¡ªhe wore no shoes¡ªwere the marks from the soles of a pair of large boots, the kind they were issued as part of their fighter¡¯s uniform. She began to piece together what had happened: Gunther had attacked Daniel by the stream, but his injured tendon had allowed the toad to escape and keep ahead of him.

    Maybe I should leave them to it. It¡¯s a one-on-one fight now, at least. But Ember disregarded the idea as soon as it surfaced. Either Gunther or Daniel had lost their flare: if it were Gunther¡¯s, she wasn¡¯t above taking the chance to eliminate him, and she didn¡¯t trust him not to hurt Daniel even if he surrendered.

    Despite her conviction, it was more difficult to follow the trail than she had anticipated. The footprints changed direction often, sometimes looping back on themselves, and deciphering them took all of her focus.

    When she emerged from the thick vegetation, she found herself much farther north than Ophelia would have condoned. She was in a small clearing, and above her, the sun had begun its descent west. She could see where the trail picked up again on the other side, but something stopped her from moving on.

    There was the unmistakable evidence of a campsite: the vegetation was ragged around the edges where it had been cleared, and in the center, there were the remnants of a fire with deer bones half-buried in the ashes. Unfortunately, the footprints of the campers had been lost to rain and wind.

    She kicked at the ashes, feeling unsettled. Linnaeans usually had great respect for the big game they hunted, but the deer¡¯s rotting head had been discarded along the treeline, swarming with a few straggling maggots. A wildling, maybe? But would they make a fire?

    She started down the trail again, faster with the threat of dusk at her back. She would chastise Daniel when she found him; he had gone way too far north, and they would have to make camp for the night if Ophelia wasn¡¯t able to track them within the next couple of hours.

    She was thinking of exactly what she was going to say when she walked within a hair¡¯s breadth of the crow¡¯s corpse. It was pinned against an oak by an arrow through its chest, its black eyes unseeing and its wings suspended as if in flight.

 76: An Evil Thing

    Ember jerked to a stop, awash with cold dread. It was well known that crows were Corax¡¯s agents, and no well-meaning Linnaean would shoot one. A rogue trying to escape detection? She hadn¡¯t heard of any reports, but it didn¡¯t mean that it was impossible.

    She looked back the way she had come, wondering for the first time if she should have gone back to camp with Lance. She was far enough away, though, that it would be nightfall before she could reach the camp again, and the trail would be indecipherable in the darkness.

    An ear-splitting wail rose above the noise of the forest. Her head snapped up, recognizing the call of the Fowler¡¯s toad. It wasn¡¯t like when he had acted as a lookout in capture the flag¡ªit was a scream barbed with terror.

    She sprinted toward him without thinking. Her fingers ripped the fang knife from its sheath, gouging the rubber coating beneath until fresh blood spilled over the once-again-sharp blade.

    The sound of weapons clashing led her through the deep underbrush, thorns tearing at her clothes and vines slapping her face. Desperation made her fast, and she flew over the bloodstained trail, the trees themselves seeming to guide her toward the battle ahead.

    At first, it was impossible to locate Daniel amid the tangled limbs and flashing weapons. She lowered herself to the ground and crept closer, the cloud of kicked-up dirt stinging her eyes and the rocks imprinting into her knees.

    She used her infrared to separate the fighters from one another: Gunther first, his face pale and terrified as a blow sent him staggering in her direction. The top half of his ear was missing, blood pouring down the side of his head and collecting at his shoulder. The toad was crouched in the bushes behind him, rooting around for something.

    The pisces whipped back toward his attackers, and Ember saw them clearly for the first time: two human men, both covered in drapes of sewn-together leaves and branches. They were large and bearded, with limbs like tree trunks and skin streaked with mud. The taller of the two wore a bow-and-arrow strung across his back and wielded a knife; the shorter wielded a machete.

    Ember¡¯s stomach lurched. These men were undoubtedly the owners of the camp she had just encountered, and perhaps even of the hunting knife found in the northeast on the first day of the exam. They had been living in Linnaean territory for days; to her knowledge, such an event had not happened for a hundred years.

    The fight was rapidly going downhill for the Linnaeans. The quarters were too close for the archer¡¯s bow, but Gunther¡¯s maneuverability was equally affected. He was strong, but he had begun the day injured, and the men were skilled: they fought him without fear, aiming for his unarmored spots and wearing him down¡ªexactly what Ember would have done.

    As she watched, Daniel emerged from the bushes behind the shorter man, tripping up his legs. He took advantage of the moment of distraction to throw Gunther his axe¡ªstill dulled with the rubber coating¡ªwhich he had retrieved from the bushes. As the pisces caught it, the taller man steadied the shorter and kicked the squealing toad away.

    Ember¡¯s fingers tightened around her knife. Her fangs extended and bloodlust bloomed in her ears like a poisonous flower. In these men, she saw the others that had come before them: those who had threatened the newly delivered Linnaean child, those who had forced a cage around Olga¡¯s mouth, and those who held her father prisoner in the god-forsaken city of Ciradyl.

    But underneath her anger was fear. There were no rubber-dulled weapons; no Ophelia to stop the fight when it became too dangerous; no honor code to govern the men¡¯s actions. To fight them was to risk dying.

    She squeezed her eyes shut for a half-second and said a prayer to any god or goddess that might be listening, then crept tight to the ground until she was behind the archer¡¯s back.

    She sprang at him with her knife outstretched, angling it to slit his throat.

    She was fast, but she hesitated in the instant before the blade met flesh. At the same time, a ray of sunlight glinted off of the metal and into the archer¡¯s eye.

    He reacted automatically. His arm flew up, blocking the trajectory of her knife. It skittered across his gauntlet and caught him just below the thumb joint, splitting it from his hand. Blood and flesh splattered over them both, and Ember cursed, retreating a half-step.

    She had injured him, but he reacted with little more than a grimace. He tightened the gauntlet with his teeth, cutting off the circulation, and faced her in earnest while his partner continued to occupy Gunther. In his dark, impassive eyes, Ember saw the willingness to kill.

    He came at her with broad, powerful strokes, a different strategy than he had used against the pisces. That alone was enough to confirm her suspicions that he was familiar with fighting Linnaeans: he could recognize and adapt to their mutations.

    She ducked underneath an attack, hissing as the pain in her side flared. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that with only one man to fight against, Gunther and Daniel were gaining the upper hand. She backed up until the three of them formed a triangle, their backs protected.

    As they fought, Ember realized that her companions¡¯ injuries and the men¡¯s skill at the blade mattered not¡ªthe Linnaeans would triumph. Despite being much smaller in stature, her strength was equal to the men¡¯s, and Gunther¡¯s was far greater. He weathered their attacks and pushed forward, hammering them down with blows from his dulled axe and his fists. Ember and Daniel took advantage of the split-second openings he created, inflicting major wounds and sapping the men¡¯s energy.

    For the first time, she could feel what the bishop must fear in them, and it gave her strength. We¡¯re going to win.

    It happened in an instant. The shorter man maneuvered himself around Gunther and grabbed Daniel, who had stepped out of their formation in order to attack. He held his machete to the toad¡¯s throat, his eyes glinting with the threat.

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    Gunther growled, reaching out, but Ember grabbed his arm, her own knife hanging useless at her side. ¡°Stop. He means it.¡±

    The toad¡¯s eyes were wide, and he struggled until the man forced him still by nicking his neck with the blade. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry,¡± he mouthed, tears streaking his dirt-stained face.

    Ember tasted blood where her metal-capped fangs bit into her lip. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t follow us,¡± the taller man grunted, ¡°or we¡¯ll kill him. We¡¯ll drop him by the river when we¡¯re sure you¡¯ve beat it.¡±

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯re-¡± Gunther started to say, but Ember silenced him with a sharp glare.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she spat. The archer nodded, once, his disdain for her on full display.

    The humans began their retreat through the underbrush, one facing forward and the other backward with Daniel sandwiched in the middle. Ember held a finger to her lips, but the moment they were out of sight, she leaned close to Gunther. ¡°Follow them, quietly.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll kill them,¡± he said, and they took up the trail together, for once in perfect agreement.

    They picked after the men with painful slowness, Ember¡¯s barely controlled anger simmering beneath the surface. The enemies were only human: eventually, they would have to stop and drop their guard, while she could survive for days without sleeping or eating if she had to. Now that they had been spotted, they would need to flee quickly, and Daniel would be a hindrance; they would intend to offload him one way or another.

    They had hiked about a mile before the men stopped in a clearing at the top of a hill. She could see their backs and Daniel¡¯s crouched outline, and she held up a hand to Gunther, indicating that she would approach first.

    Something large flickered in her infrared, and she only had time to spin around before two figures dropped down from the nearest trees, sleek brown weapons with long metal barrels trained on her and Gunther. Shotguns.

    ¡°Shit,¡± she said aloud.  It was a fucking set-up.

    ¡°Throw down your weapons,¡± one of the figures, a woman, ordered. Ember glanced at Gunther. ¡°Put them down! You don¡¯t want to see what this thing can do to you.¡± Grimacing, Ember dropped her fang knife and Gunther his axe. ¡°Push them away!¡± she said again, and Ember nudged it out of reach with her boot.

    Placated, the woman approached Ember and her partner approached Gunther, holding the shotguns to their backs. ¡°Walk forward.¡±

    Ember did as she was told, noting that the humans retrieved the dropped weapons. When she slowed her pace, the cold metal of the barrel poked through her shirt, and she gave up the prospect of a surprise attack. What an evil thing, she thought, a weapon that requires no strength, and little skill; that kills without the wielder needing to see their opponent¡¯s face.

    The Linnaeans were led into the clearing that served as the group¡¯s main camp. Daniel knelt in the center, his hands tied, surrounded by a total of five humans. Ember could have kicked herself: the original two men must have been a mere hunting party, and in her sleep deprivation and hunger, she hadn¡¯t considered the possibility of there being more lying in wait.

    ¡°Get down,¡± the woman ordered Ember and Gunther, and they followed her direction and joined Daniel. The humans¡¯ guns stayed trained on them, but they made no attempt to tie their hands, likely unwilling to get close enough.

    ¡°Ember,¡± Daniel whispered, and she angled her head toward him.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He made a small noise, pointing to something with his chin, and she turned her head just barely to see a lump lying nearby. At first, she thought it was an animal¡ªthe humans¡¯ dinner, perhaps¡ªbut when Daniel shifted out of her line of vision she realized it was a Linnaean: the insect TA, his throat cut open like a goat¡¯s.

    Daniel gagged, and Gunther made a small sound in the back of his throat. They intend to kill us, Ember realized. Of course. Their mission necessitates they remain undetected.

    For just a second, she pushed her fear and anger aside. She knew little about shotguns, except that they were loud and inaccurate, and the humans wouldn¡¯t risk alerting other Linnaeans unless there was no alternative. Instead, they had rounded her and her companions up so that they could be killed without a fight¡ªand she absolutely was not going to let that happen.

    The two gunmen, the woman and her partner, stood to the side of the kneeling Linnaeans, while the other three men stood in front of them. She glanced at Gunther and Daniel, hoping her eyes told them what to do.

    She wiped her expression blank, sparing a thought for Jisu, who she hoped was safe in the south of the forest. ¡°You killed him,¡± she said, raising her voice to call the humans¡¯ attention to her. ¡°You don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯ve done.¡±

    The shorter man laughed, but the archer held out a hand to stop him. ¡°She looks familiar, doesn¡¯t she?¡±

    The three humans crowded closer, looking at Ember¡¯s face. One of them drew in a quick breath, his eyes widening. ¡°Like that woman-¡±

    ¡°Now!¡± Ember hissed, and the three Linnaeans threw themselves toward the humans. Ember lunged sideways, wrapping her hands around the barrel of the female gunman¡¯s shotgun and wrenching it aside. She swung her back leg in a power roundhouse kick, connecting to the woman¡¯s head with enough force that she dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the forest floor.

    Ember didn¡¯t stop to verify that she was dead¡ªinstead, she spun around to check on her companions. Gunther and Daniel, who had been encumbered by the toad¡¯s bindings, hadn¡¯t succeeded with their gunman before the other humans had overwhelmed them.

    Ember threw herself into the fray, but it was too late. Two of the men pushed Gunther and Daniel away from them, and the gunman leveled the shotgun.

    It was as if his finger pulled the trigger in slow motion. Ember screamed, but Gunther reacted the fastest, shoving Daniel out of the line of the shot. The bullet connected at the side of the pisces¡¯ ribcage, and the effect was devastating.

    The roar of the shot drowned out the thump of the bullet entering Gunther¡¯s body, but Ember saw how it ripped through his armor like a knife through butter.

    She knew instantly that he was dead; she didn¡¯t wait to watch the aftermath. Instead, she grabbed the gunman from behind, struggling against the other hands on her, and managed to wrench the gun from him. With four-on-one, though, she knew that she would be overwhelmed.

    But she would make them pay for Gunther¡¯s death first.

    A sense of calm settled over her, and she felt the latent power simmering beneath her skin. She tensed, springing off of the chest of one human and arching over another, landing on his shoulders with her thighs gripping either side of his neck. Her momentum took them both down, and she scrambled to be on top, her fist connecting to his face until it was mangled beyond recognition.

    Hands reached for her, yanking her free. She clawed at them like a wild animal, but they were insatiable, and she was rendered immobile at last. There was another presence in the clearing, or perhaps in her mind¡ªsomething so suffocating that she was hardly aware of the humans anymore. So this is death.

    A black blur darted across her field of vision, and one of the men was peeled away from Ember before anyone could react. He fell to the forest floor, his throat torn out by a pair of canines.

    Jisu had arrived.

 77: The Legacy of the Golden Lance

    ¡°Are you okay, Ember?¡± the panther panted, looking all the part a wild cat, her mouth painted with blood and her fur matted. Ember was at once relieved and horrified to see her.

    ¡°Been better,¡± she admitted, taking advantage of the distraction to tug the shotgun fully away from the gunman. She held it at an angle and stomped on it hard enough that the wood cracked, slinging the broken weapon as far as she could into the trees.

    ¡°Hang in there,¡± Jisu yelled back, engaging with the closest human, the short man with the machete. She made no acknowledgment of the two dead Linnaeans, whose blood was soaking into the soil like rain after a storm.

    ¡°Go hide,¡± Ember told Daniel, who was crouched next to Gunther¡¯s splayed-open body. The human whose face she had disfigured had yet to recover, and she stepped over him to join Jisu¡¯s fight against the three others.

    Without speaking, they fell into the rhythm they had established during their six months as training partners. Ember guarded the panther¡¯s back, protecting her from the close fighting that was her weakness. They bobbed and weaved between each other like dual whirlwinds, preventing the humans from adapting to their fighting styles.

    The machete-wielder was the first to give into the pressure. When he charged straight at Jisu, she ducked under his arm and came up behind him, using her foot to boot him at Ember who disarmed him with the technique she¡¯d learned in Ophelia¡¯s class. Her knee slammed into his torso the moment it was unprotected, the bone giving way with a crack.

    She drew back for a headstrike, but he was yanked out of her reach by the largest of the three remaining humans, a tomahawk-wielder with a beard as black as coal. Ember gritted her teeth, doubting she could take them both simultaneously.

    ¡°Ember!¡± Jisu yelled, and her head snapped up in search of the panther. The fighting had brought them to the other side of the clearing, where the female gunman lay at an unnatural angle. The unmistakable glint of Ember¡¯s fang knife came from the top of her pack, where it must have poked through after she¡¯d fallen. Jisu hooked it with the toe of her boot, flinging it toward Ember. ¡°Catch!¡±

    It went arching through the air, handle over blade, and Ember caught it just as the two humans she¡¯d been facing attempted a coordinated attack. The machete-wielder grabbed at her from behind, but she jumped back, feigning a low kick and then swinging the same leg into a headshot. Without pausing, she spun low with her knife in hand, avoiding the other¡¯s fist, and came up to backhand him with the blade. It plunged into his face and he fell, screaming.

    In a split second, the scene was seared into Ember¡¯s mind forever: the wickedly curved blade sticking from his eye as the dying light caught the rippling pattern on its surface; everyone and everything covered in blood; the heavy breathing of the dying in the background.

    She was forced to move as her infrared detected movement to her side, and she darted away just as the tomahawk sliced into the air where she¡¯d just been standing. Its wielder was big but slow, and it wasn¡¯t difficult to keep up the footwork necessary to avoid him.

    Ember looked for Jisu, finding the panther battling the archer back at the treeline. She was gaining the upper hand: her technique and speed far exceeded his, and he was finding it difficult to react to her inhuman acrobatics. He would fall at any moment, and then they could take down the remaining man together.

    Except¡­ The archer had held his own against Gunther, and his steps seemed almost deliberate. What if he¡¯s not being pushed back, but luring her back?

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    He glanced down once, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to confirm Ember¡¯s suspicions. ¡°Jisu!¡± she screamed, already in motion, but it was too late.

    The cat planted her foot in a thick pile of leaves, gearing up for a finishing blow, and a bear trap snapped over her shin.

    The prongs cut deep into her leg, and she threw her head back and let out a cry like a wounded animal. The archer closed in, and she tried to pull away, but the trap and its chains¡ªconnected to the bases of the nearest trees¡ªheld her fast. The archer raised his knife, and she would be dead within seconds.

    Ember¡¯s bloodlust consumed her like an open flame. She closed the distance in only a few steps, so quickly that the world seemed to warp around her. Her body slammed into the archer¡¯s, sending them both sprawling away from Jisu in a tangle of limbs, and something cracked beneath them like splintering wood. His knife bit into the flesh above her hip, but she reached down between them and flung it away, fighting for the upper hand.

    Suddenly, she was peeled away from the archer by a hand at the back of her neck, and before she could react, the tomahawk-wielder tossed her hard into the center of the clearing.

    She landed near Gunther¡¯s body, her ankle twisted the wrong direction and a wave of pain rippling out from her ribs. She managed to fight off unconsciousness but failed to get to her feet, falling back on one arm. The tomahawk-wielder approached while the archer helped the man she¡¯d disfigured to rise into a sitting position.

    With all three pairs of eyes on her, she steadied her jaw and tried desperately to think of a plan. She still had her fang knife, and the splintering crack had been the bow on the archer¡¯s back breaking during the fall, so a long-range attack was out. If I can¡¯t win, maybe I can stall until Ophelia arrives¡­

    The idea withered and died as she saw the tomahawk-wielder approaching. His look was grave, and the archer half-stood, ready to assist him. Across the clearing, Jisu¡¯s emerald eyes reflected the same despair that Ember felt. The panther¡¯s death would come after hers, and then the humans would hunt down and kill Daniel, and no one would be left to warn the others.

    The knowledge of what she had to do washed over her like waves on the lakeshore, and she almost laughed that she hadn¡¯t realized it sooner, because it was only natural that things would end like this.

    She felt strangely at peace as she brought her knife to her mouth, the tip of the curved blade catching the bottom of her fang. She wrenched it upward with a flick of her wrist.

    The tooth splintered, and her mouth filled with blood from where the knife had nicked her gums. The tomahawk-wielder reached her at the same time, unaware of what she had done. He kicked her fang knife away, forcing her to the ground with a foot planted in the center of her chest. She went willingly, but as he swung back the tomahawk she wrapped both hands around his ankle and sunk her broken fang into his flesh.

    She knew instantly that she had never truly meant it before¡ªnot with Freya, and not even with Roland¡ªbecause the force of her muscles contracting sent a spasm of pain splitting through her head. She barely avoided the man¡¯s swing, the blade cutting through the hair that pooled out behind her head.

    The man didn¡¯t swing again. He staggered backward, looking at the bite wound with a sort of shocked surprise. Everyone¡ªEmber, Jisu, the archer, and even the man whose face she¡¯d ruined (though his eyes were swollen shut) ¡ªlooked on without moving, as if sensing that the moment was significant.

    Corax had once told her that her venom was hemotoxic, and Mr. Ernold that it was five times more potent than the inland species. But Ember had never understood what any of it meant, not really, until the man before her came undone.

    The blood came first: a trickle from his eyes, like tears; from his nose; from his ears, pooling at his clavicle and blooming across his shirt. It swelled beneath his skin, forming coin-sized blisters. The screaming started, then, registered only dimly by Ember¡¯s ears, who watched as he convulsed until he collapsed to his knees. His muscles contracted of their own accord, like a puppet whose strings were being yanked, and all the while, a terrible darkness spread from the entry wound on his leg.

    He screamed until he choked on the blood in his mouth, and then he fell face-first, twitching feebly.

    It was as if his final collapse awoke the others. The disfigured man grabbed at the archer, asking for answers, but the taller man kicked him away. ¡°Demon,¡± he whispered, his voice shaking, and with one last horrified look at Ember, he turned tail and ran into the forest.

 78: Green, the Color of Mourning

    Ember panted, her hands planted in front of her and sweat dripping from her forehead. She watched the droplets splatter into the dirt, coming in and out of focus. Horrifically, she realized that she could sense the tomahawk-wielder¡¯s body heat dissipating as he faded from a living being to a corpse.

    Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and then she was emptying the contents of her stomach between her hands.

    ¡°Ember! Ember!!¡± someone yelled, and she looked up with watery eyes. Jisu was watching her from across the clearing, her expression a mixture of relief and trepidation.

    ¡°Jisu,¡± Ember managed, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet. ¡°Are you¡­?¡±

    The panther shook her head, her lips pursed. ¡°I¡¯m okay if I don¡¯t move. The prongs are keeping me from losing too much blood.¡±

    ¡°Ophelia is coming,¡± Ember remembered, wiping her eyes with her bloody sleeve. ¡°Give me your flare.¡±

    Jisu pulled the tube from her pocket and Ember added it to her own, pulling the releases in quick succession. Two red lines arched through the sky, and she slumped against the tree, spent.

    ¡°Ember,¡± Jisu started to say. ¡°That-¡±

    ¡°Not now,¡± she said darkly, avoiding looking at the man, who was still in the throws of death. ¡°Please.¡±

    There was a rustling behind them, and Daniel emerged, tearful and bloody. Even in her exhaustion, Ember saw how he stood away from her, as though she was someone to be feared.

    In Ember¡¯s mind, the time they spent waiting together was an eternity. The sound of movement through the underbrush alerted them to another presence, and Ember heaved herself into a standing position, worried the archer had come back.

    And in a way, he had. His hair was clutched in Ophelia¡¯s fist as she ran into the clearing, his pale and lifeless head lolling to one side and a red, foot-long bristle sprouting from his neck. The fireworm dropped the body as soon as she caught sight of the students, running toward them with outstretched hands and making no effort to hide her tears.

    She took in the bear trap, then touched Jisu¡¯s face, leaving behind red fingerprints. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we-¡±

    The panther shook her head, gripping Ophelia¡¯s forearms as if the instructor was the one who needed steadying. Wordlessly, she pointed with her chin to the other side of the clearing.

    Ophelia turned to look, and Ember saw the despair flit across her face. She made a noise, halfway between a keen and a sob, but it cut off abruptly as she squeezed her eyes shut. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s nothing we can do for them, but we can get you both to safety. The other TAs are right behind me.¡±

    She pulled out a switchblade, using it to turn the bolts keeping Jisu¡¯s bear trap connected to the chains. While she worked, Ember kept watch over the disfigured human, who was still alive but unable to stand on his own.

    As the adrenaline of the fight abated, Ember saw the scene clearly for the first time. Unimaginably, amid birdsong and new spring sprouts was the resting place of two Linnaeans and four humans. Clothes, dropped weapons, and chunks of flesh were scattered in the dirt and hanging from nearby branches. A vulture had already come to perch nearby, shuffling his wings in anticipation.

    But the worst was the tomahawk-wielder, upon which Ember¡¯s venom had left undeniable marks. As she looked at his body, black with internal bleeding and bloated like a long-dead lake animal, the possibilities came to mind unbidden: venom-coated arrows, drawn-out torture, pit traps lined with poisoned spikes.

    Her hands shook. She had rendered the last remaining human blind, so he couldn¡¯t recount what had happened under questioning, and Ophelia¡¯s team would be likely to mistake her venom for the fireworm¡¯s¡ªbut if Corax saw the body he would know exactly what had occurred. Her eyes flitted around, suddenly desperate to hide the evidence, and landed upon Ophelia. But how can I ask this of her?

    She paused for only a second. If anyone could cover up what had happened, it would be someone with venom of her own. ¡°Ophelia,¡± she hissed, leaning close to the fireworm¡¯s ear. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but no one can know I killed him. Please.¡±

    Ophelia turned her head just enough to regard Ember in her peripherals. ¡°Okay. I can do that, at least.¡±

    ***

    The hours after the confrontation would forever have a feeling of unreality to Ember. She remembered them only in snatches: TAs, medics, and guards flooding the clearing; the long hike back to camp, supported on someone¡¯s arm; Jisu across the shoulders of a guard, the bear trap still awkwardly clamped over her leg; the jostling ride on elk-back to the infirmary.

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    She was bedridden for three long days. On the first, the medics stripped off her ruined clothes and dabbed her skin clean, the stark white cotton cloths taking on the color of mud. They bandaged her ribs and splinted her ankle, though she refused to let them near her mouth.

    After receiving the news that the others would be okay, she slept straight through the second day. By the third, someone must have decided that she was recovered enough for questioning because her bedside was a revolving door of medical experts, city officials, and captains of the guard. She recounted the events honestly, only omitting her killing of the tomahawk-wielder. When she asked, they would never tell her what had happened in the aftermath¡ªnot if the disfigured man had confessed the humans¡¯ purpose in Linnaean territory, nor how the city was reacting to the news¡ªand though Ember half-expected to see Corax, who would at least have enough respect for her to entertain her questions, the crow never made an appearance.

    After the mayor himself stopped in to talk to them, Jisu shouted from across the infirmary that enough was enough and they knew where to find her, thank you very much. As the panther gathered up her things, shrugging off the hovering hands of the staff, Ember took the chance to mutter her thanks and excuse herself to the reptile dormitory.

    In her room, she sunk into a blissful silence that she knew couldn¡¯t last. She scrubbed herself raw in the cold water from the tap, though it didn¡¯t ease the sense that she was wearing someone else¡¯s skin. There was a knock at the door¡ªMarcus, most likely¡ªbut she kept quiet until the footsteps faded down the hall.

    The infirmary had washed the uniform she¡¯d worn for the exam and given it back to her, though it was little more than a bloodstained rag. She laid it out on the bedspread and looked it over inch by inch as if she could differentiate human blood from Linnaean.

    She had refused to be parted from her knife, and it resisted when she pulled it from its sheath, stuck to the sides with grime. Swallowing, she held it up to the light. Blood had dried into the grooves, and for the first time, a new pattern was distinguishable at the blade¡¯s base: two looping letters, forming the initials GW.

    ***

    Gunther may not have been well-liked, but his funeral was overflowing with Mendelians. They filled the little white fold-out chairs; stood in the shadows beneath the boughs, sheltering from the May sun; climbed the trees and looked over the gathering from above. An unseen violinist was playing a slow and sweet melody, and everything was swathed in green, the Linnaean¡¯s color of mourning.

    Ember arrived in a broad-brimmed hat and a high-collared shirt, the open invitation clutched in her hand, retrieved from where one of the reptiles had pushed it under her door that morning. Even the short walk had left her feeling winded, and her ankle ached from where she¡¯d shoved it¡ªsplint and all¡ªinto her boot.

    She picked her way through the crowd, raising her head to find someplace secluded to sit. ¡°Ember!¡± someone said, and she turned her head with a sinking feeling. It was the flying squirrel from Hickory¡¯s class, whose name she couldn¡¯t quite remember.

    Ember nodded in acknowledgment, trying to extract herself, but the squirrel¡¯s claws closed around her shoulder in a way that might have been intended to be comforting. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked in a whisper-yell. ¡°I heard you were also part of Instructor Ophelia¡¯s exam!¡±

    Ember grimaced, shaking her shoulder from the squirrel¡¯s grasp as if her hand were a particularly troublesome fly. Already, heads were turning in their direction. ¡°No, that¡¯s not-¡± she started to say, and then the squirrel was edged out of the way by Naz¡¯s much smaller body.

    ¡°This way,¡± the pisces said, and she and Carn bracketed Ember, leading her to a spot under an oak tree outside of the main gathering.

    When Ember had regained her wits, she looked at her best friends¡ªCarn with his soft red fur and his tail squishing anxiously; Naz with her fan-like fins half-extended and a little frown on her face, her hand hovering like she wanted to touch Ember¡ªand she didn¡¯t know what to say.

    Carn opened his arms and she gave a little nod, and then they were both holding her, hands ghosting over skin as if she was made of glass. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you knew Gunther,¡± she mumbled rather stupidly.

    Naz pulled back, her brows drawing together. ¡°Gunther?¡± Carn gestured at the crowd pointedly, and her eyes widened with realization. ¡°No, Ember, god no. We heard that something went wrong with your exam, and we¡¯ve been going to the infirmary every day since, but they wouldn¡¯t let visitors in. This morning they said you¡¯d discharged yourself¡± ¡ªher mouth pursed with disapproval¡ª ¡°so we went to the reptile dorm, but you weren¡¯t there either. The snake told us you might be here. So we¡¯re here for you¡ªof course we¡¯re here for you.¡±

    Ember took an unsteady breath, feeling on the verge of tears. ¡°How much do you know?¡±

    ¡°Only what Mayor Richardson announced: that your class encountered human mercenaries outside of the city walls, a student and a TA were killed, and all the humans were dealt with.¡±

    It was a little jarring to hear the incident which she still could not consider without abject horror boiled down to a single sentence. ¡°An apt summary,¡± she said dryly.

    ¡°You fought them, didn¡¯t you?¡± Carn asked, his voice soft.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°Naturally,¡± he sighed, running a hand over his face. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    ¡°It was bad,¡± she said, her gaze sliding away from theirs. ¡°Very bad.¡± Her friends looked at her with wide eyes, as if her admission made it a thousand times worse. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything tonight, I promise.¡±

    Naz¡¯s hand rested on hers, her expression open and earnest. ¡°You don¡¯t have to. We¡¯re just grateful that you¡¯re okay.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Ember said, feeling a weight lifted from her shoulders. ¡°I want to.¡±

 79: With Death Comes New Life

    Ember remembered two funerals before Gunther¡¯s: first, her neighbor¡¯s in Maple Valley, where tears had been shed freely and home-made dishes were exchanged between the mourners; second, her mother¡¯s in Vargas, where the strange men in black had pinned her down with their eyes.

    Gunther¡¯s funeral was more like a celebration of life. Many of the guests had brought food or drink, which was passed around as the violin music played. His mother was the first to speak, her face puffy from crying as she thanked all of the guests for attending.

    Ember had never cared to familiarize herself with Gunther before, but now she learned that he had been a sturgeon, a fact that reminded her uncomfortably of how easily the bullet had torn his mighty body to shreds; that he had aspired to be guard captain; and that he had a grandmother and a sister also living in Mendel. His mother finished by calling him a ¡°very loving boy,¡± an untruth that Ember decided to excuse.

    In truth, any animosity she had felt toward him had dispersed the moment he had thrown himself in front of Daniel, and her classmates seemed to feel the same¡ªmany of them were in attendance, including Craig, whose elephantine body she spotted in the back row. In a twisted, sick sort of way, Gunther¡¯s poisoning had kept him from facing more serious harm at the humans¡¯ hands.

    Naz and Carn stood with her as they listened to the speeches. In between Gunther¡¯s grandmother and a professor, something tapped on Ember¡¯s good ankle, and she turned around to see Jisu with a dark wooden cane grasped in a clawed hand. By her side were Lance and Daniel, both of whom looked sleepless and troubled.

    Before she could react, Lance took Ember¡¯s hand and looked at her fully in the face. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he said quietly, shifting a little to address Daniel and Jisu as well, ¡°to all three of you. I should never have left you alone.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Ember said. ¡°You brought Ophelia.¡±

    Daniel shook his head, his eyes teary. ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± he said, jamming a thumb into his chest. ¡°I got c-captured, and Gunther d-died blocking m-me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no one¡¯s fault but those humans¡¯,¡± Naz said firmly, and the arguments faded into an unpleasant silence.

    A deep sadness settled over Ember as she considered her friends. We¡¯ve been shaken so deeply. Will we ever recover?

    Once everyone had spoken, the podium was dragged aside. Just off of the path, a patch of ground had been cleared and ringed with white stones. ¡°The burial site,¡± Naz whispered. ¡°Since he was a student, it¡¯s the family¡¯s right to bury him on campus.¡±

    With the mourners looking on, Gunther¡¯s mother painstakingly dug into the ground with her bare hands. Reverently, she placed a sapling in the hole, tucking it in like one would a small child. One by one, Gunther¡¯s family and close friends crouched and touched their heads to the stones, their tears splashing like rain over the soil.

    ¡°Oak,¡± Gunther¡¯s mother said, brushing tears from her face with dirty hands. ¡°A good, strong tree, like my departed boy.¡± She gave a half-smile, but Ember saw that her hands were shaking.

    With the soft music in the background and the mourners¡¯ loose clothes rustling like leaves in the breeze, Ember was reminded of the night of the solstice festival, when the crowd of Mendelians moved like a single many-headed spirit.

    ¡°His family practices Mendel¡¯s traditional faith,¡± Naz explained when she voiced the thought. ¡°His body and their tears feed the new tree so that with his death comes new life.¡±

    A line formed as other funeral-goers waited to pay their respects, though most everyone from Ember¡¯s group seemed content to watch the proceedings from out of the way. Only Daniel moved, his lips quivering but his expression determined. ¡°I-I¡¯m going to talk to his m-mother,¡± he announced.

    Ember put a hand on his shoulder. After the incident with the family of the margay¡¯s victim, she empathized with the burden of witnessing a death. ¡°Good luck.¡±

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    She sighed as the toad waddled away, suddenly tired of the entire ordeal. ¡°I¡¯m going to check on Instructor Ophelia,¡± she said, rising on her tip-toes to look for the fireworm, ¡°and then we can go.¡±

    Naz grimaced, exchanging a quick glance with Jisu. ¡°I¡¯m not sure she¡¯s here, Ember.¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyes darted between the two of them, realizing she¡¯d missed something, and she crossed her arms over her chest. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    The pisces touched her forearm gently. ¡°I was going to mention it once we weren¡¯t in public, I promise. It¡¯s just¡­¡± she trailed off, eyes averted.

    ¡°The mayor¡¯s statement called Ophelia irresponsible,¡± Jisu said bluntly. ¡°Public opinion isn¡¯t on her side right now.¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Continuing the exam may have been ill-advised, but she¡¯s not at fault for what happened.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Lance agreed. ¡°I¡¯ve had other exams outside of the walls. Besides, blaming Ophelia doesn¡¯t explain why those men were in our territory in the first place.¡±

    ¡°This will die down soon,¡± Naz said placatingly. ¡°Why don¡¯t you visit her office when you¡¯re healed?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she agreed noncommittally.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to your dorm and rest,¡± Carn suggested. He looked concerned enough that she said a quick goodbye to Lance and Jisu, letting herself be led away.

    But even as she followed obediently behind her friends, something prickled at the back of Ember¡¯s mind. Regardless of her reputation, I have a feeling that Ophelia is here. She wouldn¡¯t abandon her students.

    She scanned the perimeter with her infrared. Most of the gathering had dispersed, but she still had to push herself to her limits to sift through the remaining heat signatures. Instinct drew her eyes to a particularly dense canopy, where she caught a flash of red and the corner of a leather boot.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to check something,¡± she told her friends. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you back at the dorm.¡±

    ¡°No way,¡± Carn said, horrified. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you out of my sight again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a grown woman, Carn. It¡¯s nothing dangerous¡ªI¡¯m just going to speak with an old friend.¡±

    Naz made a huffing, annoyed sort of noise, and Ember couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Then wait for me right up there, okay? I won¡¯t be long.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± they agreed, exchanging perturbed expressions.

    Ember wove a complicated path between the trees, knowing her friends would lose sight of her. There was no one at the base of the tree in which she suspected Ophelia was hiding, so she took a firm grip on the lower branches and pulled herself higher, moving more slowly than usual as to avoid aggravating her wounds.

    There was a shifting in the canopy above her, but the fireworm only looked resigned when Ember came into view. ¡°No one else knows you¡¯re here,¡± Ember said, making a calming gesture with her hands. ¡°Just me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised. I did what you asked of me, Ember. I masked your venom with my own.¡±

    Ember settled on the branch beside her, back against the rough bark of the tree. ¡°Thank you, but that¡¯s not why I came to find you. Is it true that the mayor is blaming you for what happened?¡±

    Ophelia sighed, looking away, and the shadows caught the deep-set bruises beneath her eyes. ¡°Blaming? Not exactly. He called me careless, which I was-¡±

    ¡°You received Corax¡¯s permission weeks in advance,¡± Ember countered. ¡°Did he speak to you?¡±

    Ophelia gave her a dark look, and Ember knew she was overstepping. ¡°Not personally, no,¡± she finally said, and Ember felt a stab of remorse for taking advantage of her guilt to coerce her into speaking. ¡°But I received word that I¡¯ve been relieved of my position.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Ember hissed. ¡°He fired you? That¡¯s-¡±

    ¡°Enough. I won¡¯t discuss my disciplinary action with a former student any longer. My only regret is that I will no longer have the opportunity to teach you all.¡±

    Against her will, hopeless, angry tears welled in Ember¡¯s eyes. Ophelia gripped her arm, forcing their eyes to meet. ¡°None of that. Your cohort is the most talented and diligent I¡¯ve seen in years, and it¡¯s your doing, Ember. Your explosive growth pushes the others.¡±

    Ember held back the arguments on the tip of her tongue, knowing that she could say nothing in the face of Ophelia¡¯s utter defeatedness. Instead, she set her jaw and looked earnestly at her former instructor. ¡°Take care of yourself. We¡¯ll see each other again.¡±

    As she descended the tree, Ember pushed aside the anger swelling in her chest and tried to think logically. She may distrust Corax, but it seemed out of character for him to alienate a fighter as promising as Ophelia. Besides, she reasoned, remembering the dead crow, his surveillance failed to protect us, too.

    Perhaps it is time to grace the headmaster with another visit.

 80: Mysteries Unsolved

    Ember tilted her head back, looking up at the gargantuan fir tree that housed Corax¡¯s study. It was early morning, and a shining layer of dew blanketed the trees and the clover growing along the path. Though it was Friday, nearly all of the students had gone home in the interim between the spring and summer semesters, so she had seen only a handful of Linnaeans on the walk from the reptile dormitory.

    She skirted the tree, stopping at the door embedded into its base. It was unlocked, and she let herself into the narrow, musty stairwell shaped between the trunk¡¯s layers. There were no windows, so she climbed the stairs in the dark, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of Corax. She could sense that their relationship was at a turning point, its nature to be determined by their conversation. As much as I want to remain outside of his control, I hope we won¡¯t become adversaries, either.

    The stairs spat her into the treehouse¡¯s short hallway, and she paused to let her eyes re-adjust to the light filtering in from a small window and the gaps between the wooden planks. Other than the noises of the forest wakening outside, it was almost eerily quiet, and Ember¡¯s tongue flicked over the points of her fangs¡ªfreshly regrown and recapped since the fight with the humans¡ªbefore she reminded herself that she was unlikely to encounter a threat in the headmaster¡¯s office.

    She had been inside Corax¡¯s study on two previous occasions: on the first, she had learned her species, and on the second she had unsuccessfully inquired about her mother. Both times, she had been too anxious to look around properly, so she was determined to glean all the information she could now. She walked slowly down the hall, running her hand across the panels in search of a secret compartment and examining the portraits for anyone she might recognize. She was surprised to see one of Mr. Ernold in his younger days, unsmiling with hands clasped below his strong jaw.

    When she had completed her examination of the hallway, she raised the door knocker, listening as the sound reverberated through the treehouse. There was no response, and she knocked twice more with the same result. Frowning, she tried the handle, finding it locked.

    She sighed, tapping her foot. It was still early, though she had gotten the impression that a man like Corax would eat and sleep in his study if he slept at all. Regardless, with spring courses over and Ophelia¡¯s training canceled, she could afford to wait, so she turned and slid to the ground with her back against the door.

    It took her an hour to exhaust the muscle isolation exercises for her infrared and venom control, a routine she¡¯d created with the help of Marcus and Amir. When the calm the task awarded her dissipated, she opened her eyes and rose to her feet with a groan of frustration. Should I come back another time?

    As she paced in front of the door, worrying her thumbnail between her teeth, a seed of a thought began to take root in her mind. In the past, Corax had intimately involved himself in everything: he¡¯d greeted her when she¡¯d first arrived in Mendel, rushed to the scene of her fight with the margay, visited her in the infirmary, and killed the priest¡¯s guard during the events of the solstice festival. It made his absence during the most recent attack¡ªin which students had actually been killed¡ªespecially conspicuous. The only evidence Ember had seen of his famously impenetrable surveillance had been a single dead crow, and the strangest of all was that Ophelia, who was directly under his supervision as headmaster, had been dismissed by someone else.

    Is it possible that Corax isn¡¯t in Mendel right now?

    The thought was so jarring that she stopped pacing. She had read all of the announcements thoroughly since Gunther¡¯s funeral, and there had been no mention of Corax¡¯s absence, something that she could have overlooked if he was simply headmaster of the university and not also the leader of Mendel¡¯s strongest unit of fighters. It was impossible to deny its merit, though¡ªthe official response to the disaster, including Ophelia¡¯s termination, had not once struck her as the crow¡¯s strategic work.

    So, if Corax isn¡¯t here, either he¡ªor someone else with significant influence¡ªdoesn¡¯t want the public to know.

    Ember gritted her teeth, recognizing that she was at an impasse. She could walk away and wait for Corax¡¯s return (assuming that he was returning) or she could launch an investigation of her own. In the end, it was a quick decision: she owed it to Ophelia and her dead peers to figure out what was afoot.

    Across the hall, there was a small window about four feet up from the floor. She said a brief mental apology to Naz and Carn, who would undoubtedly disapprove, and with steady movements she undid the latch and slid open the pane. It was a little more difficult to pull herself up to the sill and wriggle through, but eventually, she stood on the outside of the treehouse with feet braced on the base of the wooden planks.

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    The ground lay at least thirty feet below, and leaves rustled around her, helping to conceal her body from anyone who might happen to look overhead. From her perch, she could see how the treehouse coiled around the fir and climbed into its crown like a dragon protecting its treasure hoard. The tree¡¯s importance had not stopped it from becoming the home of all a manner of creatures: long-legged yellow spiders, red-headed woodpeckers, big-belled frogs, and a family of hours who hooted suspiciously as she peered into their hollow.

    She crept from branch to branch, skirting the hallway and approaching the study. She saw no movement nor any heat signals through the windows, though there were too many obstacles to be sure. The first few panes were locked down tightly, but on the backside, one of the windows was slightly ajar. I doubt Corax was the one to make that mistake.

    She pried it upwards and swung inside, landing in a crouch. A shelf of glass bottles rattled, and she stuck out a hand to catch one right before it crashed to the ground. It was filled with a clear liquid, and she rotated it, looking for the label: HCl.

    She placed the vial back on the shelf, noticing that her fingers came back dusty. In fact, other than a pathway through the center, the study gave the impression of a museum that had been left abandoned: cobwebs stretched over shelves of oddities, reagents had dried in their swan-necked flasks, and unmaintained piles of books slouched dangerously to the side. It was confirmation enough that Corax had been gone for some time.

    Next to the shelf of vials was a small table, upon which the headmaster had left a stack of half-finished anatomical drawings. Each one depicted a Linnaean with a different malady circled in red¡ªa tumor in the brain, an enlargement of the heart, fluid in the lungs¡ªwith notes on their treatment furiously scribbled in the margins.

    I wonder what Marcus would make of these, Ember thought, replacing the diagrams and pushing her curiosity aside. Can a man who devotes his free time to the healing arts truly be immoral?

    She focused her attention on investigating Corax¡¯s absence with some difficulty. She passed a case of skulls, a cabinet of poisons, and a segment of wall covered in maps of the stars. It was impossible not to linger on the experimental bench, in which miniature vials were tucked into an apparatus that spun with a crank. Nearby were finished boxes of pills, similar to the treatment that the Linnaeans took daily.

    Ember¡¯s eyes roamed over them with interest. As far as she knew, it was the pharmacists¡¯ job to make the treatment. Is he working on something new? She spotted a scroll with a list of materials and a step-wise procedure half-pinned under the microscope, but her time was limited, and she couldn¡¯t make much sense of it anyway.

    With no obvious clues presenting themselves on the first floor, she walked up the velvet-lined stairs to the second floor of the study. Just like she remembered, the table with the detailed three-dimensional map was in its center, and she was once again struck by the sense that she was looking at something of great significance.

    The red flags marked the same areas as before: the old woods south of Mendel, the ocean off of Bayport¡¯s coast, the central desert, and the Valram mountains to the northwest. Now, upon closer inspection, Ember could see that coordinates were written in pencil beneath each marker. Could Corax have gone to one of these places? But why?

    A leather-bound tome rested on one corner of the table, and Ember picked it up, examining the spine. Navigating the Southern Hemisphere, the title read, Dr. Salvatore Thompson.

    Him again? Ember wondered, remembering the name: he had been an explorer, famous for making it to the southern edge of the continent and back. It had been one of his books that Corax had used to show her Roland¡¯s species. Does this mean Corax has gone into the Old Forest? Why?

    Frustrated, Ember sat down, staring at the map. Perhaps, if she examined it just a bit longer¡­

    She jerked upright as the sound of voices came from below, horrifyingly close. Multiple sets of footsteps were headed down the hallway, accompanied by the rattling of a keyring. Shit.

    As far as she knew, there were only two ways out of the study: the window she¡¯d come through, and the door that the unwanted visitors were about to open. The window was at nearly the furthest point away from where she sat, and she doubted that she could make it out in time to avoid being seen or heard.

    Her pulse thumped in her ears. Will I be punished? Expelled?

    A key was being fitted into the lock, and she backed up against the wall like a cornered animal, searching desperately for a cabinet big enough in which to hide.

    There was a nearly imperceptible rustling behind her. Then, suddenly, something buried itself in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her unceremoniously backward. There was a brief struggle of limbs and then the wall itself seemed to close in front of her, blocking out the light.

    A figure swelled to life beneath her infrared, undoubtedly Linnaean. With a painful knocking of knees and heads, she pinned it against the wall, their breathing unbearably loud in the darkness.

    ¡°Who-¡± she hissed, but a shaking hand clamped over her mouth.

    ¡°Quiet, Ember, it¡¯s me,¡± a male voice said, a little choked. There was a moment of tense silence as Ember tried to place it, and the hand relaxed slightly.

    ¡°Orthus?¡±

 81: The Martial Eagleéˆ¥æªš Subterfuge

    The octopus¡¯s head nodded against her body, and she backed off only to be stopped by a wall against her back. Wherever we are, it¡¯s not meant for more than one person.

    With the immediate danger over, she took a moment to search the narrow chamber: now that her eyes were adjusting, she could see a faint light from where she¡¯d come; only darkness in the opposite direction, though the draftiness indicated the presence of a passage or duct.

    ¡°Later,¡± Orthus whispered, his half-blue, half-orange eyes glittering. ¡°Listen.¡±

    Ember¡¯s eyebrows drew together, but before she could say anything his long fingers gripped her shoulders and turned her back toward the entrance. She obeyed their slight pressure and sank to her knees, Orthus crowding close enough behind her that she could feel his body heat against her back. She looked at him questioningly, but he pointed with his chin at the wall in front of them and paid her no further attention.

    Bemused, her fingers skirted over the surface close to her face, finding it thinner and more pliable than she had thought. Canvas, she realized, we¡¯re behind one of Corax¡¯s paintings.

    Upon closer examination, she was drawn to two pinpricks of light about at eye level. She repositioned herself, finding that she could look through them into the top story of the office¡ªjust in time to see two men and a woman, all avians, coming up the stairs.

    She shrunk back, a tight feeling in her chest. Above her, Orthus was still peering through two slits of his own, a grim expression on his face. Though he had never been someone to give away much, she guessed from his lack of reaction that he both recognized and expected the group.

    With a physical effort, she forced herself to focus on the leading avian through the limited view. He was tall, with sinewy muscles and a greying beard. A set of massive wings grew from his back, though they were imperfect¡ªstructurally asymmetrical and marred with battle scars. But more noticeable than his appearance was his predator¡¯s aura, clinging to him like a bloody-fingered wraith. Ember¡¯s stomach twisted. For the first time in months, she felt like prey.

    Her eyes slid away unconsciously, landing on the Linnaean bringing up the rear of the procession. With a jolt of surprise, she recognized him as Roland. The black hawk-eagle¡¯s monochrome wings were tucked behind him and his aristocratic features lowered in deference. His presence was like a punch in the gut after months without a confrontation.

    She looked again at the leader. If Roland¡¯s here, then that man must be his master, Orion, the Martial Eagle. She swallowed unevenly. Known to be among the top three strongest members of the Apex Association.

    The remaining avian of the three walked between the Martial Eagle and Roland, following at her master¡¯s heels like an overeager dog. Though it was difficult to age her features, Ember guessed that she was younger than Orion but older than Roland, and definitely his superior. She was of slighter build than both of the men, with slimmer, ruddy-feathered wings sprouting from slits in her bloodred robes. Something about her bearing reminded Ember of Ophelia, and she knew instantly that she would lose a fight against her.

    ¡°Master,¡± the ruddy-feathered avian said, ¡°will Corax be displeased that the prisoner has died?¡±

    Orion wiped his hands on his trousers, displaying bloodstains across his knuckles. ¡°Humans are fragile,¡± he said, his voice a low rumble and his yellow gaze displeased. ¡°With his facial wounds infected, his death was inevitable.¡±

    Ember shifted. Are they talking about the human I incapacitated?

    Orion sat at Corax¡¯s round table with a sigh, swinging up his booted feet, and a chunk of dirt dislodged itself onto the mahogany. The ruddy-feathered Linnaean stood at his shoulder as he looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought, and after a minute he gave her permission to sit with a wave of his hand.

    ¡°Get us something to drink,¡± he ordered Roland.

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°The liquor cabinet, boy,¡± the Martial Eagle said, and it almost pleased Ember to see how Roland tripped over himself to cross the room.

    He paused in front of the cabinet with one arm outstretched. His eyes darted around, searching, and Ember shrank back. Has he detected me?

    ¡°The brandy,¡± Orion called, ¡°top shelf.¡±

    Roland grabbed the drink, his slim fingers wrapping around the neck, and narrowed his eyes once more before bringing it to his master. He stood by, head bowed, as the Martial Eagle drank a generous helping straight from the bottle. He sighed with pleasure, his finger tracing the rim.

    It reminded Ember of a dog sleeping in its master¡¯s bed while he was away, and she felt a little indignant on Corax¡¯s behalf. At least she knew why she hadn¡¯t seen Roland for months¡ªhe had been occupied helping his master play chief strategist.

    ¡°Regardless of his death, the outcome is the same,¡± he said conversationally.

    ¡°How so, Master?¡± the female Linnaean asked.

    ¡°The leak will need to be dealt with. She should have killed herself upon capture rather than give up our confidence. Her performance has been pathetic.¡±

    ¡°Will you send assassins?¡±

    He took another gulp of the brandy. ¡°That would be my choice, but regrettably, the decision will be Corax¡¯s. He¡¯s returning soon, and he will want to send a rescue party first.¡±

    They exchanged a meaningful look. ¡°That is regrettable. It has been my pleasure to serve you during this time, Master.¡±

    Orion let out a bark of laughter. ¡°Hopefully, it won¡¯t be long before we can reclaim this position.¡±

    ¡°Even after his prot¨¦g¨¦¡­?¡±

    ¡°The worm?¡± Orion asked, his lips turned up in a smile, and Ember realized with a spike of anger that they were talking about Ophelia. ¡°I will make him see that I acted in everyone¡¯s best interest. We managed to shift some of the blame on her, and now that she has been fired, the public is less distressed. They feel that we have the situation under control. Besides, he has other, better prot¨¦g¨¦s.¡±

    The ruddy-feathered raptor sunk to her knees, looking reverently at the Martial Eagle. ¡°Thank you, thank you, Master.¡±

    He nodded, seemingly pleased by her groveling. ¡°The situation demanded it. Your advancement was merely a bonus.¡±

    Ember¡¯s brows pinched together. As far as she knew, Ophelia hadn¡¯t held any positions of power other than her station as one of the top fifty rankers. Perhaps, Orion¡¯s student was one of her direct competitors.

    ¡°Speaking of advancement,¡± Orion added, his speech beginning to slur around the edges, ¡°Roland, let¡¯s strategize for your next match. I expect more from your performance¡­¡±

    Ember startled as Orthus¡¯s hand gripped her shoulder, and she looked up to see him beckoning for her to follow. She stood, dusting off her sore knees. He raised a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet¡ªas if she needed the reminder¡ªand took a few steps down the narrow chamber. She followed close behind, hardly daring to breathe.

    ¡°Careful,¡± he whispered, and she saw that the chamber cut off abruptly into a deep chasm. In the low light, she could just make out a rope ladder disappearing into the darkness. Orthus lowered himself over the edge, gripping the sides, and started the climb down.

    When he had descended a couple of rungs, Ember copied his movements. With her fingers wrapped around the frayed, algae-spotted rope, she vowed not to let him escape without telling her how the hell he had known about a secret chamber in Corax¡¯s office.

    Several minutes passed before Ember¡¯s feet touched solid ground again. Orthus pushed open a panel, and they stepped out into the dim light, once again at the bottom of the stairwell inside the first layer of the tree. They slipped outside, the brightness of day burning into Ember¡¯s retinas.

    ¡°Orthus-¡± she began.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through the tangle of roots. She let herself be led willingly¡ªhe had saved her from the Martial Eagle, after all¡ªthough her patience at being dismissed was waning. As they veered into a thicket of trees, Ember glanced back up at the study, noticing that their route was along its blind spot.

    The octopus led her deeper into the trees until, at last, they stopped near a pile of rocks. He took a seat, head in his hands, and to Ember¡¯s shock the color-changing skin not covered by his cloak flared an angry red. ¡°Orthus,¡± she said again, not sure exactly where to begin amongst her endless questions, ¡°what in the name of the gods-¡±

    ¡°You!¡± he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her, ¡°Breaking into Corax¡¯s office? What the hell did you think you were doing? What if Orion had caught you?¡±

    Ember raised her eyebrows. ¡°Last time I checked, you¡¯re equally guilty. Except I didn¡¯t know the Martial Eagle was coming, and I think you did. Can you tell me what that¡¯s about?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not in the position to be making demands,¡± Orthus said, standing up to pace with a fingernail between his teeth. It was the least composed that Ember had seen him.

    ¡°Okay, you¡¯re right,¡± she admitted. ¡°You helped me with Freya.¡± She tilted her head, thinking. If she wanted something from him, she would have to give him something in return. That was how things had always been with Orthus.

    ¡°You were listening in to hear about the humans¡¯ attack, right?¡± Ember speculated. ¡°I was there, so maybe we can trade information. A question for a question.¡±

 82: Twin Scales

    Orthus nodded slowly, lowering himself back onto the rock. Ember considered her long list of questions; she would have to pick wisely since she only had limited information to offer in return. She had confirmation that Corax was gone, most likely to the south, but that he would return. The Martial Eagle seemed to be acting as the leader in his absence, though with or without permission she wasn¡¯t certain. She also knew that Ophelia had been framed to improve public opinion, with the added bonus of removing her from the competition with Orion¡¯s ruddy-feathered disciple.

    ¡°Okay. First, I want to know if¡ªno, how¡ªthe mercenaries knew to infiltrate the forest now, when Corax is gone. It can¡¯t have been a coincidence.¡±

    One corner of Orthus¡¯ mouth twisted upwards, acknowledging her question. ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, we had an agent on the mainland who knew about Corax¡¯s absence¡ªI don¡¯t know if she was informed or found out herself¡ªwho was captured. She cracked under torture.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s the leak they mentioned,¡± Ember remarked.

    ¡°Is that another question?¡±

    ¡°No. Your turn.¡±

    Orthus wove his fingers together. ¡°What were the contents of your father¡¯s letter?¡±

    She blinked, taken aback; she had been certain that he would ask about the attack, not something personal.

    ¡°You¡¯re assuming I heard back from him,¡± she replied, stalling for time.

    He spread his arms. ¡°Call it a hunch.¡±

    She sighed. Although it was private, Orthus was one of the people Ember trusted most about matters regarding her father, considering he¡¯d told her to contact the dove, Kora, in the first place. ¡°Well, he expressed his relief for my health, described my mother¡¯s illness, and told me about her funeral-¡±

    ¡°What, exactly?¡± Orthus asked, leaning forward and looking more interested than Ember thought was justified. She barely stopped from snapping that it was none of his business, reminding herself that she had suggested the trade in the first place.

    ¡°He confirmed that it was her inside the casket and that there were mourners he didn¡¯t recognize.¡±

    ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Nothing about the funeral, but he said that there was a new bishop in Ciradyl who was enacting stricter religious laws. This was before the news about the royals.¡±

    Orthus gave a curt nod. ¡°Okay. You can ask another question.¡±

    The reference to the royals'' flight, which Ember suspected had actually been regicide by the new Archbishop Matthias, brought a disturbing thought to mind. She hadn¡¯t seen Corax since the end of January, so it was possible that the Martial Eagle had handled the response to that disaster too. ¡°How long has Corax been gone?¡±

    Orthus counted on his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s May 14th today, so just under three months.¡±

    Since mid-February, then. Not long enough to interfere with the news of the takeover in Ciradyl. For a moment, the tension left Ember¡¯s shoulders, only to be replaced with a new budding worry. ¡°That¡¯s a long time for our surveillance to be weakened. What if Matthias is amassing an army?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t her turn to ask a question, but Orthus waved his arm anyway. ¡°He would not have left us unprotected. Don¡¯t bother asking what he¡¯s doing, though, because I don¡¯t know either.¡±

    Ember frowned. Did he just stop me from wasting a question?

    ¡°It¡¯s my turn. How did the humans die during Ophelia¡¯s exam?¡±

    Ember steeled herself. She¡¯d expected a question about the attack, although she thought Orthus was being a little presumptuous by assuming that she¡¯d witnessed their deaths.

    ¡°Those injuries are from fighting,¡± the octopus said as if he¡¯d read her mind. ¡°I doubt that you fled the scene. Now answer the question.¡±

    ¡°One¡¯s throat was torn out by another student, I killed one with a head kick and one with my knife, and Ophelia killed two with her venom,¡± Ember explained, recounting the story as she¡¯d told the officials minus Jisu¡¯s name; although the panther wasn¡¯t hiding her role in the fight, it felt wrong to include it without her consent.

    Orthus leaned forward, sweeping a lock of brown hair off of his forehead. He said nothing, but with an almost imperceptible change in expression¡ªa slight lowering of his eyelids and a tilt of his chin¡ªEmber realized that, inexplicably, he knew she was lying. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°There were hemorrhagic blisters on the big man with the tomahawk,¡± he said.

    ¡°So what?¡± Ember replied, a vein in her neck pulsing.

    ¡°Fireworm venom doesn¡¯t cause those. It¡¯s a neurotoxin.¡±

    ¡°And you heard that from the Martial Eagle?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. That oaf isn¡¯t one for the details, and the body also had signs of neurotoxic venom which are easily traced to Ophelia. It¡¯s more like a personal curiosity.¡±

    ¡°Another student, then,¡± Ember said, almost flippantly. She was sinking, scrambling for purchase. ¡°Or a poisoned weapon.¡±

    ¡°I know the names and species of the other students in your class. None of them have venom.¡±

    ¡°I understand what you¡¯re suggesting, but my fangs are capped,¡± Ember said, opening her mouth and pointing at her new set. ¡°A poisoned weapon is the only explanation. It must have happened while I was fighting the others and before Ophelia came.¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Orthus said, and if Ember wasn¡¯t mistaken there was a hint of amusement beneath his serious expression. ¡°I¡¯ll drop it. But next time, coat your knife in venom so that there aren¡¯t dual puncture wounds.¡±

    She stared at him, chest rising and falling quickly, and a series of events flickered through her mind: his appearance in the forest near the Saline Lake, his weird interest in her family, his knowledge of her venom, their coincidental meeting in the office, and¡ªoh god¡ªhis asking for her scale as payment.

    With Ember¡¯s nerves already frayed from the attack, it was a simple thing for this newest development to snap her last thread of control and plunge her back into the desperation rippling in her subconscious.

    She darted forward, hands closing around Orthus¡¯s neck. He toppled from the rock, and they landed in a painful tangle of knees and elbows. ¡°You¡¯ve been keeping tabs on me!¡± she hissed.

    Orthus¡¯s cloak had come undone in the struggle, and his skin changed color, matching the dark brown earth below them. For a split second, Ember was disoriented, and Orthus wriggled like a worm from her grasp. She went to grab him and he changed color again, this time into a mixture of rock and sky.

    Gritting her teeth, Ember reached for what she could see clearly: a swathe of black that she thought was his shirt. She snatched at it, and it came away in her hands. ¡°Damn you, Orthus!¡± she snapped.

    The octopus, now shirtless and dark-skinned, held up his hands. ¡°Why don¡¯t you calm down?¡± he asked mildly. ¡°Talk like civilized people?¡±

    Ember¡¯s infrared flared to life and she went to grab him again, clutching the back of his knees and lifting him off his feet in a tackle that sent him crashing into the ground. Striking was too difficult with his camouflage, so she clasped her hands together around his ankle in a heel hook submission hold.

    He grimaced, but even when she shoved his body back with her other leg he didn¡¯t relent: he was too flexible. She shifted her grip, planning to convert the hold into a leg lock when he grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into her face.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± she shouted, one hand shooting up involuntarily to scratch at her eyes. Orthus tried to extract himself, but she followed him with her infrared, fighting through the discomfort and pushing him back down. She felt a little like a child scrabbling in the dirt.

    ¡°Not everything is about you, Ember!¡± he yelled, panic creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± She challenged, pinning him down with a knee on either side of his torso and crossing her wrists over his neck. ¡°Not spying for Corax, then?¡±

    He paused a beat too long. ¡°I fucking thought so!¡± she hissed, pressing down.

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± he choked, ¡°yes, but not on you.¡±

    ¡°As if I would believe-¡±

    A hand shot up, and something collided unceremoniously with Ember¡¯s head. She flinched back, silenced, and stars danced in her vision. But when Orthus¡¯s slippery body tried to wriggle free again, she tightened her legs and held him down through the wave of pain.

    She touched her head, and her hand came back red. He had stopped struggling and was watching her with wide, half-blue and half-orange eyes. A fist-sized stone, stained red, lay discarded by his hand. ¡°You hit me in the head with a rock?¡± she asked incredulously.

    He had the gall to look chastised. ¡°Well, you wouldn¡¯t see reason¡­¡±

    Ember laughed¡ªreally laughed, her head tilted back and her throat exposed. It rang, the sound jarring against the backdrop of the forest. Orthus twitched but stayed otherwise unmoving, still bracketed in by her knees.

    Some time passed before she sobered. Her eyes still stung from the dirt, and there was a persistent ache on the side of her head. Her injured ankle and ribs, which had hardly begun to heal, weren¡¯t fairing much better. ¡°Okay, who were you spying on for Corax if not me?¡±

    ¡°On the Martial Eagle,¡± he said slowly as if she were a wild animal. ¡°Corax doesn¡¯t trust him.¡±

    ¡°That explains the secret passage, but not the scale,¡± Ember said, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Why ask for it if not to deliver it to Corax?¡±

    One side of Orthus¡¯s mouth twisted into a grimace. ¡°If you get off me,¡± he said, slightly pinched, ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    Ember rolled off his torso, and he stood and dusted himself off. His skin was multiple colors at once, betraying his irritation, and his dark hair was sticking in all directions. Ember resisted the urge to let out another laugh.

    Once he had retrieved his shirt, he reached into a pants pocket, withdrawing a small coin pouch. When he upended it over his palm, not one, but two gold scales fell out.

    Ember stared at him as he placed them gingerly in her hands. She recognized the one she had given him right away¡ªit was still bright gold, with hard edges¡ªbut the other was dull and peeling.

    ¡°This is old,¡± she observed, turning it over, ¡°but I haven¡¯t had scales for long, so how¡­?¡±

    Orthus said nothing, his expression vulnerable. The explanation came to her like a punch in the gut, the weight of it settling thickly against her ribcage. ¡°This is my mother¡¯s, isn¡¯t it?¡±

 83: Orthuséˆ¥æªš Story

    Orthus watched her carefully, his posture stiff as if poised for another attack. ¡°My interest in you has nothing to do with Corax,¡± he began. ¡°I knew the Golden Lance personally. I must have been one of the last Linnaeans she brought to Mendel before she died.¡±

    Ember swallowed. ¡°You recognized me when we first met on the lake.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a question, but Orthus nodded. ¡°You look just like her. She didn¡¯t usually reveal her appearance, but with me, it was different.¡± He looked away. ¡°We traveled together for some time.¡±

    ¡°When?¡± she breathed.

    ¡°Nine years ago. I was eleven.¡±

    Ember sat back down heavily, resting her head in her hands. She tried to reconcile it with the timeline, but her memory was hopelessly muddled; at best she could remember that her mother had often traveled to visit her parents or physicians in nearby towns.

    ¡°That was only a year before she disappeared permanently,¡± Ember observed, unable to keep the interest from her voice. ¡°Did something happen during this journey to compromise her?¡±

    Orthus sighed, coming to sit opposite her on the rock formation. His fingers fiddled with a sprig growing by his thigh, twisting it over and over. ¡°I grew up in Serton,¡± he said, ¡°a mining city-state near Vargas, although outside of the central district, it¡¯s more like a collection of small towns. The northern mountains are unpredictable¡ªmany young men are lost to gruesome accidents or disappear mysteriously¡ªso its people are particularly superstitious. Linnaeans are thought to be evil spirits, borne from the bowels of the mountains and trying to corrupt the village.

    ¡°Like most aquatic Linnaeans, I developed breathing problems, which wasn¡¯t unusual on its own considering the pollution from the mines. But a nurse discovered by accident that salt burned my skin, and that was enough to incite mass panic. I was moved,¡± he continued, his face screwing up painfully, ¡°to a cell in the central district.¡±

    ¡°A cell?¡± Ember asked intently, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. ¡°Doesn¡¯t the treaty guarantee that Linnaeans be sent to Mendel?¡±

    ¡°The treaty is not infallible,¡± Orthus explained, ¡°especially for the northern states, to whom Mendel is little more than a distant hell. It would save a lot of trouble if a short delay resulted in my death.¡±

    ¡°And Linnaeans are already in poor health,¡± Ember theorized, ¡°so it would be impossible for Mendel to prove you hadn¡¯t died from natural causes. Certainly not worth risking war over.¡±

    Orthus nodded, abandoning the sprig to trace a pale scar circling around the delicate skin of his wrist, and Ember thought that she was beginning to understand the duplicitous relationship between Mendel and the mainland. It wasn¡¯t peace, but a rocky terrain of espionage and politics: a sort of cold war, which her mother had navigated in order to reduce the number of Linnaean deaths.

    ¡°What about my mother?¡± she prompted. ¡°How did she become involved?¡±

    ¡°The prison in the central district has particularly strong security,¡± he continued, speaking slowly as if weighing his words. ¡°I discovered this all afterward, of course, but Mendel¡¯s spies became aware of the situation after I was brought into custody. A confrontation with Serton¡¯s government would have revealed their positions, so they needed an agent capable of breaking me out from the inside. Who¡¯s better suited to a prison operation than someone who eats little and can see in the dark?¡±

    ¡°But not everything went as expected,¡± Ember guessed.

    He shook his head ruefully. ¡°No. There was a hitch in the plan. Some unionizers attempted a prison break on the day that she arrived. New guards were brought in, and our escape was delayed.¡±

    ¡°How did you stay alive?¡±

    ¡°Women and children were kept together, so the Golden Lance was able to sneak me some of the treatment pills that she had smuggled in. That kept me alive, barely.¡± His expression darkened, and he looked down at his clasped hands. ¡°But one of the other prisoners gave us away. Your mother was taken in for questioning, and they discovered her disguise. To my knowledge, it was the first time anyone had seen her true appearance.¡±

    A sinking sensation pooled at the bottom of Ember¡¯s stomach. ¡°How could you possibly have escaped after that?¡±

    ¡°The fate of spies is usually ugly¡ªthey¡¯re tortured, used as leverage, or executed in secret¡ªbut we were lucky. There was a blizzard that night. It was loud, and the guards feared the mountain¡¯s wrath. In the confusion, your mother broke out of solitary and freed me.¡±

    ¡°All of that under the noses of the guards?¡±

    ¡°Not quite. They caught on when we left the basement floor. It was a bloodbath, Ember. She must have killed ten men herself. She was unbelievably powerful.¡±

    Ember, who had known her mother only as a frail woman, fought to push down a tangle of complicated feelings. Now we have both killed men, she thought bitterly. What do you think of that?

    ¡°Her¡ªwell, our¡ªvenom is distinctive,¡± she said at last. ¡°It would have left traces.¡±

    Orthus nodded, his eyes rimmed with red. ¡°Yes. Reports in other regions could have been linked, all under her actual face.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°One of the humans said I looked familiar during the attack,¡± Ember realized, feeling sick. ¡°¡®Like that woman¡¯...¡±

    They exchanged a weighted look. If mercenaries from Ciradyl had recognized Ember nearly a decade after her mother¡¯s death, the Golden Lance¡¯s appearance must¡¯ve been widely publicized by her enemies, a fact that boded poorly for Ember.

    ¡°What happened after the escape?¡± she asked, unwilling to discuss the point further.

    ¡°She brought me back to our territory myself. I was delirious by then, so I don¡¯t remember much,  except that she told me stories of her family.¡±

    ¡°She trusted you completely,¡± Ember said, a painful lump in her throat.

    Seeing her expression, the octopus leaned forward, his face open and earnest. ¡°She adored you, Ember.¡±

    ¡°She hardly knew me.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°You had your father, your village. We¡ªthe lost Linnaeans¡ªhad nothing.¡±

    Ember wanted to argue that her mother had been controlled by Corax and that her choices had not been her own. But she sensed that the reality was somewhere in between; after all, the way she had risked her life to rescue Orthus didn¡¯t seem like the work of someone without agency.

    ¡°I want to find out the truth about her death,¡± he continued, ¡°and I want to help bring your father to Mendel, too.¡± He glanced up at Ember, a question on his face.

    She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. As irked as she was that Orthus had concealed his history with her mother, it would be foolish to ignore his offer for help. She decided, without further ceremony, that she would trust him¡ªand he will pay if he betrays that trust.

    She steepled her fingers. ¡°The Martial Eagle thinks that Corax will want to retrieve the captured woman,¡± she said.

    Orthus¡¯s eyes widened a fraction as he realized her implication. ¡°Yes. There¡¯s a good chance he¡¯ll put together a rescue party when he returns.¡±

    ¡°And my chances of getting into this party?¡±

    The octopus grimaced. ¡°Hard to say. It wouldn¡¯t be a stretch for Corax to use this as a training opportunity, and he must have some interest in you already¡± ¡ªEmber nodded¡ª¡°but that¡¯s unlikely to be enough. You need to show him some initiative.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°All right. And your chances?¡±

    ¡°With my abilities, I might be able to pull it off. But Ember, even if we make it to Ciradyl, it might be impossible to rescue your father. Do you know where he¡¯s being held?¡±

    ¡°As of his letter, he was still at our old house, but it was under watch.¡±

    ¡°That was nearly half a year ago. He might have been moved by now.¡±

    Ember frowned at him. ¡°Listen. This is the only chance I¡¯ve had since I came here. If I can get to Ciradyl, I¡¯ll make it work. I just need you to keep me updated on what Corax is planning.¡±

    Orthus sighed, messaging his temples. A bruise was blooming across his jaw. ¡°Fine,¡± he agreed. ¡°And for god¡¯s sake, Ember, stay away out of the headmaster¡¯s office.¡±

    ***

    ¡°So that¡¯s¡­ what happened,¡± Mr. Ernold said thoughtfully, pinching the mouthpiece of his oxygen machine between his first two fingers like a cigar. It hadn¡¯t been easy to put wheels on his chair and his machine, but it had been worth it to see him regain some of his former authority.¡°The Martial Eagle acting up behind Corax¡¯s back¡­ and your teacher caught in the crossfire.¡±

    Ember nodded, picking up another slice of dried sausage and biting it in half. The six Linnaeans¡ªMr. Ernold, Marcus, Naz, Carn, Orthus, and herself¡ªwere seated close together around the former mayor¡¯s dining room table in a new set of wooden folding chairs (built by a surprisingly handy Marcus). In the center, atop a fresh tablecloth, was a picnic basket and six sweating glasses of lemon water.

    The room had transformed in the two months since Ember and Marcus had been visiting the elderly boar-crocodile: the cabinets repaired, the furniture replaced, and the black mold scraped away. It was pleasant, although the mood among her companions was less so; Marcus, for one, was not even pretending to listen as he glared at Orthus with his arms crossed over his chest and his biceps bulging.

    The octopus seemed more put off by the python than the prehistoric forest, although he had seemed uncharacteristically surprised when Ember had invited him to meet Mr. Ernold¡ªfor once, it seemed, she had known something he didn¡¯t. Her good mood had been somewhat dampened when Marcus had arrived, taken one look at Orthus, and hissed ¡°Is that the bastard that told you to fight Freya?¡±

    Ember sighed. Well, at least Mr. Ernold seems pleased.

    ¡°Do you think, sir, that Corax will take action against the Martial Eagle?¡± Carn asked, the words viscous as though he was struggling to push them from his throat. It was a valiant attempt to ignore the boar-crocodile¡¯s uncanny air¡ªespecially since the fox was still jittery from the walk through the forest¡ªand Ember felt a rush of fondness for him.

    ¡°Well¡­ he will certainly see through his ruse,¡± Mr. Ernold answered, ¡°but moving against him¡­ is a different business. No¡­ he cannot afford to offend the eagle¡¯s allies¡­ nor risk losing his power in these uncertain times.¡±

    ¡°What about the chance of getting Ophelia reinstated?¡± Naz asked, glancing at Ember.

    The former major shook his head. ¡°Slim to none, I¡¯m afraid. The public¡­ the universities donors¡­ they would never accept it.¡±

    Ember clenched her jaw, though she had expected as much. ¡°And what of the other matter?¡± she asked. ¡°This expedition into Ciradyl?¡±

    The smile dropped off Mr. Ernold¡¯s face and his bushy eyebrows pinched together. ¡°No,¡± he said, with more vehemence then she had ever heard from him. ¡°If you join Corax in this¡­ it will not be the end of his use for you.¡±

    Though his reasoning was sound, Ember could see through to his guilt. ¡°My mother¡¯s death was not your fault,¡± she said. ¡°You and Corax may have assigned her missions, but she wanted to save people.¡±

    ¡°Regardless¡­ there was too much on her shoulders.¡±

    His voice wavered, and Ember met his eyes and then looked away, wondering if she wanted to know exactly what she wasn¡¯t being told. Regardless, it was not a conversation to be had in front of her friends. ¡°Perhaps,¡± she admitted, ¡°but I do not believe that you are responsible for her death. She would have always risked herself for others.¡±

    Orthus made a small noise of assent, unnoticed to all but Ember. She hoped that, in time, he would trust Mr. Ernold with his story, if only to assuage some of the old Linnaean¡¯s guilt.

    ¡°I still do not like this, Ember,¡± the former mayor protested. ¡°Exposing your abilities to Corax¡­ when you went to such lengths to conceal them.¡±

    ¡°What if I can earn myself a spot without my venom?¡± All five pairs of eyes turned to Ember, and she held up a placating hand. ¡°I admit I¡¯m not certain it will work.¡±

    ¡°That is more promising,¡± Mr. Ernold replied. He took another long drag on his oxygen machine, one finger tracing an idle pattern on the table. ¡°Although,¡± he said, eyes gleaming, ¡°I may have an idea of my own, just in case.¡±

 84: Opheliaéˆ¥æªš Replacement (Arc 3 Finale)

    Ember paused, her fingertips hovering over the double doors at the entrance to the domed building. She was struck by the memory of her first day on the compound seven months before: how, breathless and jittery, she and Jisu had hidden in the bushes to watch the fighters from the advanced class walk past. She remembered being charmed¡ªand a little unsettled¡ªby Ophelia¡¯s eccentric welcome, and the start of her and Lance¡¯s tentative friendship. Now, Ophelia was ousted, Lance was recovering in the city, and Jisu had abandoned the intermediate class to train with the Ghost Cat again.

    Ember¡¯s eyes flicked to the inscription above the door, which read ¡®For the Glory of Mendel,¡¯ and bitterness pooled in her chest.

    The building, unprotected from the late spring sun, was almost uncomfortably warm inside. The sand floor had been raked and the weapons hanging from the walls polished. Several trainees were already stretching¡ªhalf of them new to Ember¡ªand she walked briskly to the far corner, where she could warm up unmolested.

    As she stretched, her attention was drawn across the room, and she let out an indignant huff as she sighted Roland. She knew from Orthus that Corax had yet to return, and it seemed that in his absence the black-hawk eagle had grown even more arrogant; over his fighter¡¯s uniform, he wore a blood-red jacket emblazoned with the crest of the Martial Eagle, and as Ember watched he ruffled his monochrome feathers in a way that could only be described as pompous. Unlike her first semester, in which she had taken first place, she and Roland had tied after the conclusion of spring finals. At least it was some consolation that she had seen his master treating him as an errand boy.

    When Ember¡¯s annoyance subsided, she realized Roland was accompanied by two other Linnaeans: Michael, Ophelia¡¯s carnivore assistant, and a male avian with a moderate build and grey feathers. He held himself with a sort of easy authority, and Ember realized with a scowl that he must be Ophelia¡¯s replacement. What is his relationship to the Martial Eagle? Not an official disciple¡ªthat would be too bold, even for him¡ªbut an ally, at least.

    Roland turned slightly, taking notice of her, and a slight smirk graced his lips. She let her gaze slip to the floor even as her face heated with rage. Better to let him think I know nothing, for now.

    With her head to the floor, she watched the three Linnaeans with her infrared. The new instructor gestured toward her, and her stomach dropped; it seemed that he had noticed Roland¡¯s not-to-subtle interest in her. She reached down to touch her toes, hoping the topic would pass quickly, but to her dismay, she sensed the avian approaching only a moment later.

    ¡°Miss Ember,¡± he said, offering her a taloned hand. She managed to school her expression, letting him help her to her feet. Up close, she saw that he was brown-haired and brown-eyed, with the sharp look characteristic of raptors. Like Ophelia, he wore the winged patch on his fighter¡¯s uniform, designating him a top fifty ranker. ¡°My name is Instructor Tarek. I¡¯ve heard you¡¯re one of our top students.¡±

    She bowed her head slightly. ¡°I¡¯m honored, sir.¡±

    His gaze fell on the left breast of her fighter¡¯s uniform, where she wore a golden patch in the shape of the medal of valor, an award the major had bestowed upon her, Jisu, and Gunther (posthumously). ¡°You were injured fighting against the human mercenaries, were you not? Have you recovered fully?¡± he asked amiably enough, although the cynical part of Ember wondered if he was trying to unsettle her.

    ¡°Thank you for your concern, but yes, I¡¯m fully healed.¡±

    He placed a hand on her shoulder, looking at her earnestly, and Ember barely stopped herself from shrugging it off. ¡°I understand you were close with Instructor Ophelia,¡± he sighed, ¡°but you will find yourself equally welcome in my class.¡±

    She made a noncommittal noise, her body awash with adrenaline. ¡°Of course.¡±

    Looking satisfied, he nodded once, then made his way over to another group of students. She took an even breath, feeling as though there was a heavy weight on her chest, and considered walking out of the class that instant. It was tempting, but she did not have a master or a sponsor who would vouch for her, and without evidence of a proper education in fighting she would have no precedent to arrange a debut match.

    It was not long before the instructors called for the students to gather in the center of the arena. Ember noticed that many new students were present¡ªpresumably recent graduates from Mr. Badger¡¯s class¡ªand that old faces were missing, perhaps having gone to the city for the summer. She stood as far away as possible from Roland, although she felt the weight of his eyes on her.

    ¡°Thank you all for joining me today,¡± the new instructor announced. ¡°My name is Instructor Tarek, and my species is the grey falcon. I know all of you are anxious about training under someone new, but I will do my best to continue Ex-Instructor Ophelia¡¯s work,¡± he smiled, and Ember¡¯s stomach flipped.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Please do not think that I am unprepared, as I have reviewed all of the files that your previous instructor left behind. However, much time has passed, and I have always preferred to evaluate students with my own eyes. Therefore, all of you will spar with an assistant today under my observation. I look forward to getting to know you all.¡±

    Ember surveyed the class¡¯s reaction. Most of the older students looked resigned, while some of the younger looked nervous enough to piss themselves. She spared a little pity for them¡ªsparring Roland was truly a cruel introduction to the intermediate class.

    Instructor Tarek counted them off, and Ember was assigned to Michael¡¯s line. She wrapped her knuckles in strips of stained white fabric, watching as the students ahead of her were defeated easily, although the TA let them get in a few blows to show their skills. Meanwhile, Roland¡¯s line dwindled quickly as he defeated each opponent with his precise technique, sand flying as his wings snapped open and closed. Ember rolled her eyes; even against students with a fourth of his skill, he managed to show off, and it was impressive.

    Soon, she was next in line to spar Michael.  She unclipped her sheath from her belt; although Instructor Tarek had allowed them to fight with weapons and she had re-coated the blade in rubber, the memory of the humans¡¯ blood on the knife was still fresh, and she found herself itching to fight with her hands.

    She took her place across from Michael as his previous opponent limped away. Her gaze settled on him, her focus narrowing and sharpening. He had a large build, standing six inches taller than herself. His limbs were dense and muscled, ending in blunt claws, and his fur was coarse and spotted, gathering in a mane around his neck. She remembered hearing that he was a hyena, a carnivore with similarities to both canines and felines. He wore five bands around his arm, meaning that he had progressed to the third level of the advanced class, a well-deserved promotion¡ªhe was a consistent, technical fighter. She had never beaten him, although Jisu had managed a draw.

    He was looking at her with a sort of hesitant softness, as though he might try to bring up what had happened. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she said, putting a quick end to whatever he was planning.

    The two fighters bowed to each other. Michael circled her, slow and steady, with his upper lip half-pulled back. Ember hung back, scanning his body with her infrared, but she found no weakness: he was a balanced fighter, and he had clearly taken care to develop his body parallel to his skills.

    He broke the pattern to make a grab for her, but she backstepped easily. He threw a combination of light, testing blows, which she parried with the palm of her hand. She aimed a roundhouse kick to the left side of his ribcage with about half of her power, her shin smarting as he blocked it with his elbow.

    They exchanged another half-dozen blows, and Ember took the opportunity to assess her condition. She was pleased to find that the occasional pang was the only remnant of her injuries, although something felt fundamentally different.

    It took her another minute to realize what had changed: the chains of fear, some last preservation instinct from her life as a scholar in Ciradyl, had been unshackled. She had felt the suffocating presence of death, and she had survived¡ªand now, she could face opponents like Michael unflinchingly.

    With the fog cleared from her mind, she was five steps ahead of him, and she considered his moves as she might a math problem. He was experienced, but predictable, and a way of setting herself up to prove her abilities was presenting itself sooner than expected¡ªone in which, unfortunately, Miachel would be collateral damage.

    At the tail end of another combination, she threw a front kick with her leading leg. She far put more momentum than usual behind it, and her foot sunk into the tissue just below his chest cavity, pushing him back with an ooof.

    He weathered it well, spreading his feet and leaning forward. The extra power had unbalanced her, making it impossible to withdraw her leg¡ªthe perfect opportunity for him to capture her foot. It was a trap that a prodigy, like Roland, would have read in her movements long before their completion, but Michael didn¡¯t hesitate before locking his wrists around her ankle.

    His skin had just made contact with hers, when, using the remaining forward momentum, Ember pushed off her supporting leg with all of her strength. She bent both of her knees, drawing close to him in the air, and drove her kneecap into his chin.

    It was a vicious move. His head snapped back and he staggered, losing his grip on her. On any other day, she would have stepped back and let him recover, but now she planted her left leg next to his and used her right to sweep his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling with a thump. She followed close behind, planting a knee on his chest and immobilizing him completely.

    They stayed on the ground for five seconds: him on his back, face red and brow wrinkled in pain, and her with heat coursing through her body, the split skin on her kneecap dripping blood. The room was completely silent except for the sound of their breathing.

    She stood up, brushing the sand off of her uniform, and helped Michael to sit up. Everyone was watching: the other students, Roland, and Instructor Tarek. It was exactly as she had planned¡ªa decisive, undeniable victory. She only regretted that Michael must feel terribly embarrassed.

    ¡°Excellent work, Ember,¡± Instructor Tarek said at last. ¡°Perhaps it is time we consider your promotion to the advanced class. I will arrange an evaluation once we have all settled in a couple of weeks.¡±

    Does he think he is doing me a favor? Ember looked at him full in the face, and everything seemed more meaningless than ever. She was unwilling to resign herself to another six months in the advanced class, subject to a group instructor¡¯s will, training with strangers and pretending like Ciradyl wasn¡¯t threatening the sanctity of Mendel; like Corax wasn¡¯t missing and the Martial Eagle wasn¡¯t using his domain as a playing field. She could not bear it for another moment.

    ¡°No, sir,¡± she said, mouth twisting into a half-smile, half-grimace. ¡°I¡¯ve just won against a member of the final level of the advanced class. I don¡¯t want to move up, I want to debut.¡±

 85: Debutant & Deathstalker

    It was impossibly loud inside the arena. Hundreds of voices rose and fell over each other, reminding Ember of the chattering of parrots. She tilted her head up, shading her eyes from the sun reflecting off of the hard-packed sand. The spectators sat in aisles stretched between the trees overhead, their faces obscured by distance, and the weight of their implied gazes made her skin itch.

    She had visited the arena before¡ªthe first time for Roland¡¯s debut¡ªbut it was different from the fighter¡¯s perspective. She sat on the sidelines at the back of the 150-foot-long oval, close to the journalists, medics, and referees milling about along its rim. A cleaning crew was clearing up the remnants of the previous fight, which had left deep gauges in the white sand.

    She twisted, looking at the announcer¡¯s platform to her left. It was currently empty, but directly above was the lowermost aisle with the best view of the arena. Corax sat at its center, flanked by a dozen rankers who had come to watch the day¡¯s fights, including Roland and Elliot. Her eyes raked over the headmaster for the umpteenth time that day: it was his first public appearance since his long absence, although Ember knew from Orthus that he had been back nearly a week. If he had sustained any injuries on his travels, he had taken care to hide them well.

    ¡°Ember?¡± someone called, and she turned to see Instructor Tarek approaching, his grey-feathered wings tucked close to his back. He offered her a canteen, and she took it, downing its contents in one gulp. It tasted faintly of salt.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    He nodded, looking behind her at Corax. ¡°Are you nervous because the headmaster is here? Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not unusual for him to attend debut matches.¡±

    She looked at him sidelong, considering not replying. There was little she wouldn¡¯t have traded to have Ophelia as her coach instead, although he had shown some cognizance by spending most of the day socializing with the other instructors instead of trying to speak with her.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± she said, the corner of her mouth twisting into a smile.

    ¡°How¡¯s your condition?¡±

    She flexed her fingers. Really, she could hardly have asked for a better day for a match¡ªin the early afternoon just days from the official start of summer, it was the hottest it had been in recent memory, and the warmth worked its way into her muscles like a stimulant.¡°I¡¯m good,¡± she said simply.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll be here if you need anything.¡±

    Ember nodded, and she was saved from further conversation as the arena quieted around them; the announcer, Howler, was making his way back up to his platform. He was a primate Linnaean, easily recognizable by his flamboyant manner and his booming voice. For the day¡¯s matches, he had worn an ill-fitting orange suit with fur sprouting from its sleeves like weeds from a potted plant.

    ¡°Go now,¡± Tarek said, using a wing to propel her toward the center of the arena. ¡°Good luck.¡±

    The announcer cleared his throat, wiping fat droplets of sweat from his brow. ¡°Up next is our last fight of the day,¡± he bellowed. ¡°Ember Whitlock¡¯s debut match. She is a viper just out of her first year and a contender for valedictorian. You may recognize her name for her role in the recent incident with the human mercenaries, for which she has been awarded the Medal of Valor!¡±

    There was a moment of quiet in which Ember¡¯s stomach plummeted to her feet, and then a familiar whoop split the air¡ªCarn¡¯s, no doubt¡ªand the spectators roared their approval. Something like pride swelled inside her, and a bundle of nerves loosened in her chest.

    Howler attempted to wait for quiet, but the crowd had awoken, and even some of the spectators in the process of leaving had paused on the stairs. ¡°Her opponent,¡± he continued, ¡°is Cleo Belvoir, ranked 386.¡±

    At his words, there was movement on the sidelines, where a female Linnaean with long blonde hair threw back the flap of her fighter¡¯s tent, striding across the arena to join Ember. She was tall, with skin mostly covered by panels of yellow exoskeleton; a mouth framed by small, fang-like mouthparts; and two long appendages sprouting from the sides of her head, one of which ended in a claw. The most impressive, however, was her three-foot-long tail, capped with a barb. Her late appearance meant that her coach had been warned about Ember¡¯s infrared sensing and wanted to avoid her gathering data before the match; a good strategy, which Ember acknowledged with a small nod.

    ¡°Cleo is a junior at university and made her debut this year,¡± Howler continued when the two fighters stood across from one another. ¡°She is vice-president of Club Arachnida and is easily recognizable from her species, the yellow scorpion, better known as the deathstalker!¡±

    Cleo raised her hand and a pincer, her mouth splitting into a smile, and the arena exploded with the crowd¡¯s excitement.

    Howler broke into an explanation of the rules, which were few: they were to avoid eye gouging, loss of limb, and crossing the boundaries of the arena. All the fighters already knew the rules well, so Ember watched Cleo as he spoke instead. It was an unfavorable matchup for Ember¡ªvipers were not the natural predators of scorpions, and she was unaccustomed to fighting Linnaeans with highly developed mutations. Tarek had arranged the fight, claiming that her other would-be opponents had been unwilling to risk a match due to Ember¡¯s notoriety, although she wondered privately if the Martial Eagle might be trying to slow her advancement.

    It was clear from sight alone that some of Cleo¡¯s mutations had developed poorly: the clawless pincer moved out of sync with the other, and there were gaps in some of the exoskeleton panels. Ember¡¯s infrared flared to life, searching for more weaknesses.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    She froze. What she saw was a poor mockery of her usual precision, nearly useless blobs of color reminiscent of when she had first discovered her ability. She focused harder until a headache bloomed around her temples and she had to release her control.

    She looked up to find the scorpion watching her knowingly. Her mind raced, trying to find what she had missed, and then the realization hit her like a blow to the head. Arachnids are ectotherms¡­ cold-blooded. She had trained with reptiles, but the weather had been cooler then, so their heat signatures had stood out like those of fully warm-blooded animals. Now, when Cleo¡¯s temperature was closer to that of their surroundings, it was impossible to tell anything distinctly.

    The late appearance was simply to unsettle me before the match, then. Ember ran a hand through her hair, letting out an uneven breath. So this is the strategy of a ranker.

    Howler called for the fighters to bow to each other, and Ember had no choice but to abandon her attempts at finding a weakness. ¡°Thank you for accepting my challenge,¡± she said, making sure to keep her voice steady.

    ¡°Of course. May the best fighter win,¡± Cleo replied.

    They separated, beginning to circle each other. Cleo¡¯s tail wrapped halfway around her body, the barb poised to strike if Ember came within range. Ember knew from her research that the scorpion¡¯s venom was her most dangerous weapon: although not fatal, it was neurotoxic and would be incapacitating.

    Ember could feel the will to fight thrumming beneath her skin, though it was suppressed by the shock of her infrared failing and even more by anxiety. Her place on the Mainland Expedition¡ªthe only opportunity to get close to her father in a year¡ªwas dependent on her ability to impress Corax. Worse, she had to do it without her venom, since revealing it would expose her to the same scrutiny and obsession that her mother had faced. She could only hope that she was capable of carrying out the plan she¡¯d shared with Mr. Ernold, unorthodox as it was, and that it would be enough to convince the crow.

    She steeled herself and darted toward Cleo. It was a quick, testing move, just enough to bring her within the scorpion¡¯s range. Seeing an opening, she struck at her stomach with a closed fist, but just as it connected the barb swung toward her at hip level. She jumped over it easily, retreating a few steps, only to jerk her torso back as the claw whipped over her head.

    A gasp went up from the crowd. Ember retreated a few steps, gathering herself, but Cleo closed the distance, reaching out with her hands and claw. Ember used her forearm to knock the claw aside, but before she could counter Cleo bent at the waist as if bowing and her tail arched over her head toward Ember. She leaped sideways as the barb passed within a hair¡¯s breadth of her cheek.

    Ember watched from a half-crouch as the crowd shouted Cleo¡¯s name. ¡°Ember may be faster, but it looks like she is having trouble accounting for Cleo¡¯s additional points of offense,¡± Howler commented. ¡°At this rate, this match might end without her landing a blow!¡±

    Ember cringed, although his assessment wasn¡¯t inaccurate. Even though it took a fraction of her concentration, she activated her infrared again so she could track Cleo¡¯s claw and tail more easily¡ªshe would have to take out at least one of them to have any chance of winning.

    She approached Cleo again, throwing a combo that ended in a low kick to the thigh. It connected with a thwack, and the scorpion grimaced, her barb chasing Ember¡¯s torso but missing as the viper twisted out of the way. Now with an opening, Ember landed a hook near her liver, feeling a panel of exoskeleton crack under her knuckles. She jumped back just as Cleo¡¯s claw lashed out, scratching her upper arm.

    Ember¡¯s blood dripped onto the sand as the two faced each other. Howler was shouting in the background, and Cleo panted as she fought to recover from the liver shot, although she had taken less damage than Ember would have expected. She¡¯s durable. If Ember kept trying to land quick blows and retreat it would only be a matter of time before she was caught. Luckily, she had never intended to win that way; only to familiarize herself with the exact cadence of Cleo¡¯s attacks.

    She faced the scorpion head-on, pushing closer each time Cleo countered her moves. She slipped into an opening, lowering her stance as if aiming for another body shot, and threw a punch with her left arm.

    As expected, Cleo¡¯s claw closed over her forearm in a punishing grip. Ember had positioned her arm so it would be grabbed at an area particularly dense with scales, but even so, she felt as though her bones might snap at any moment. Blessedly, Cleo did not intend to crush her, but to hold her in place. The scorpion leaned forward, still holding Ember, and the barb struck out towards her chest.

    It was a terrible sight¡ªthe black-tipped tail speeding toward her, the wickedly-curved, three-inch barb gleaming as it caught the sun¡¯s light¡ªand for a moment Ember almost ruined her entire plan by fleeing too early. She could feel every sinew in her muscles as they tensed in anticipation, and then, as the barb came even with her head, she threw herself sideways.

    She closed her legs into a tight tuck, her body rotating around where the claw still grasped her arm. She let out a gasp as it wrenched her shoulder nearly out of its socket, the skin on her arm flaying as it scraped against the serrated exoskeleton. Cleo, who had put all of her momentum into the forward motion of her sting, was unable to stop as the barb stabbed downward.

    The scorpion let go of Ember as her tail slammed into the sand, but instead of fumbling, she let herself roll with the motion, clearly having trained to get back on her feet. But Ember was ready, and the instant her arm was released, she drew up her knee and clocked Cleo firmly in the chin.

    The scorpion¡¯s head snapped back, the whites of her eyes showing as she collapsed backward onto the sand. The buzz in Ember¡¯s ears faded, replaced by the deafening cheers of the crowd. ¡°Unbelievable!¡± Howler was shouting, his arms spread wide. ¡°What advanced strategizing! An incredible debut for Ember Whitlock!!¡±

    Ember spared a glance for Cleo, making sure that she was breathing, and then let her eyes flutter closed. When she opened them again, the medics had already reached the scorpion¡¯s side, and she was coming to with a look of shock on her face.

    With a deep breath, Ember turned her gaze toward Corax to gauge his reaction. At first, he seemed to be considering her, but then he turned as if to stand¡ªto leave¡ªand she was filled with cold dread. As she had feared, one win was not enough; he would surely turn her down if she asked for a place on the expedition now, when she was still low in the ranks, and there simply wasn¡¯t time to claw her way up.

    Making up her mind, Ember strode across the field toward the announcer¡¯s stand. Howler fell silent as she approached, looking at her curiously. He met her halfway down the stairs, leaning in to hear as her voice rose above the noise of the crowd.

    ¡°You want¡­ WHAT?¡± he asked in disbelief.

    ¡°To challenge someone else, sir,¡± she repeated, her eyes traveling toward the aisle above his head¡ªfor once not to Corax, but to someone by his side¡ªsomeone she had made sure was in attendance by asking Morgan to spread the news of her debut. She pointed. ¡°Him, sir, right there. That canine, Ryan Cox.¡±