The Scion Chronicles Boxed Set

By Eric Kent Edstrom

They call it the Scion School...

Jacey calls it prison.

She has no parents. None of the students on this remote Caribbean island do.

The world beyond? Destroyed by an asteroid impact long ago.

So what happens after graduation? The last class walked into the medical ward and were never seen again.

They've all been told lies. Lies and more lies!

Jacey hates herself for believing them for so long.

They've trained her body and mind to peak condition...for some purpose. But what?

Do they expect her to walk meekly into...whatever happens in the medical ward?

No. She will take it by storm. Full of fury. And she will rip the the Scion School apart to save herself and her friends.

To discover who she is.

And what she is.

Eric Kent Edstrom's compelling and genuine heroine, Jacey, will win your heart. Join this cast on an adventure full of action and twists you'll never see coming. Often compared to The Island and Never Let Me Go, this beloved series has YA dystopian fans raving for more.

This completed four book series is your next binge!

1. Daughter of Nothing
2. Child of Lies
3. Sister of Shadows
4. Scions of Sacrifice

Eric Kent Edstrom delivers his trademark thriller pacing, shocking twists, and profoundly moving characters. Fans of YA dystopian and science fiction will adore this series.

Buy your set today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Undermountain Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540153623

Eric Kent Edstrom

Eric is the author of over a dozen novels and numerous short stories.

Book preview

1

Find Out What's Next

Seven-six-two-nine-three-one-seven-six —

Jacey lay on the top bunk, watching the rattan blades of the ceiling fan spin in lazy circles. It turned just fast enough to circulate the humid Caribbean air through Girls’ Hall.

Normally, sea breezes cut through the dormitory, cooling the girls who lounged on the bunks lining both walls. But with the shutters and doors locked shut, the ceiling fan was all they had.

Six-seven-five-two-three-eight—

A low rumble, a vibration more than a sound, registered in the wood frame of her bunk. Jacey noted it, then continued.

Four-six-seven-four-eight-one-eight—

Footsteps. Whispering. A young voice, probably Rachel.

Four-six-seven—

Sarah’s older voice came from the bottom bunk. What is it, Rachel?

Six-six-nine-four-zero-five—

This didn’t happen last year. Rachel’s voice quavered.

One . . . three . . . two-zero-zero-zero—

Don’t worry about it. Lockdowns can happen anytime.

Has it happened on Birthday before?

Five-six . . .

Another rumble, followed by a susurration of whispers among the younger girls. It rose and fell like the surf on a far beach. Jacey tried to ignore it.

Five-six . . .

No, Rachel. We’ve never had one on Birthday, but as I said, they can happen anytime.

Thank you, Sarah. I’ll tell the others.

Five-six . . . Five, six . . . eight? Yes. Eight-one-two-seven—

The growl of a motor vehicle emerged from the rumbles.

It’s the Jeep, said another girl, a note of surprise in her voice.

One-four-five—

The sound of the Jeep grew louder. Jacey sat up.

A group of younger girls stampeded down the aisle between the bunks, their ponytails swinging and collar sigil pins flashing in the dim light. They raced toward the wooden entryway doors that stood a few meters from where Jacey lay.

It’s in the quad!

What’s Sensei doing?

Isn’t he in lockdown, too?

Of course not, you dummy. How could he unlock our doors if he was locked inside his villa?

Their voices reverberated from the dormitory hall’s stucco walls and cathedral ceiling.

The Jeep’s noise faded to the east. The only thing in that direction was Dr. Carlhagen’s hacienda. And that could only mean one thing.

Dr. Carlhagen, the headmaster, had returned to the Scion School.

Jacey slid from her top bunk and dropped next to Sarah’s bed. Jacey sat on the edge of the older girl’s bunk and frowned at the flock of students milling about the front doors. At eighteen, Sarah was a year older than Jacey. That meant she was in charge of half the girls in the dormitory.

Jacey touched her shoulder. How long are you going to let our Nine embarrass themselves?

Sarah lifted her arm and brushed away a strand of silky, black hair that had fallen across her face. She turned her large, dark eyes on Jacey. They looked unfocused, as if she hadn’t been paying attention to any of the excitement. What?

Jacey shifted her gaze to the congregation at the door. This is not the behavior one expects from Scions. Not in our Nine, anyway.

Sarah shook her head as if coming out of a stupor. You’re right. She stood and clapped her hands. Jacey, Wanda, Bethancy, Summer, Helen, Avanyla, Loreenla, Rachel!

A second later, Vin, also eighteen, piped in from across the room. As usual, she took her cue from Sarah. Belle, Leslie, Dajeet, Dansha, Grace, Suki, Chloe, Christina!

The flock by the door spun and flowed up the aisle, girls breaking off to take their assigned positions at the foot of their bunks. Jacey stepped to her spot and straightened her shoulders.

Sarah walked from girl to girl, inspecting their faces, hands, fingernails, and uniforms. Across the aisle, Vin did the same with her Nine.

Sarah stopped before Jacey. Your pin isn’t right.

Jacey’s left hand lifted to the Eagle pin on her collar and gauged its position. With her little finger aligned to the vertical edge of her mandarin collar, her ring finger should just touch the eagle’s beak.

It did.

An index finger pressed above the seam of collar should touch talon.

It didn’t.

Jacey removed the pin and handed it to Sarah. Scions who didn’t respect their pins weren’t allowed to wear them for a full day. Jacey swallowed but forced her face to remain passive. If she was to take over leadership of the Nine, she had to model the behavior she wanted from them.

Her stomach roiled.

How could I have been so careless? On Birthday, no less.

What would she do when it came time to exchange her Eagle pin for a Shark later that day? The embarrassment made her want to climb up to her bunk and hide under the covers.

Sarah hefted the weighty sigil, then with a sad smile pinned it onto Jacey’s collar. Not today.

Relief washed through Jacey, but her initial embarrassment didn’t fade. The excitement of Birthday had gotten to her. She wasn’t any better than the wide-eyed Dolphins and Pelicans.

Sarah called to her Nine. Gather.

They left their positions and formed a half circle with Sarah at the center. The Nine was composed of one girl from each age rank, each wearing the sigil pin of her age.

They stood silently, eyes focused on the First of their Nine. Sarah clasped her hands behind her back and smiled. I know you’re curious about what happens outside during lockdown. And I know some of you don’t believe me, but it’s nothing to be frightened about. Supplies are being delivered to the warehouse.

But who is doing it? And what is that rumbling?

Where do the supplies come from?

Why was the Jeep on the quad?

Sarah smacked her hands together so hard the crack made girls in the other Nine jump. Their leader, Vin, turned to give Sarah an irritated look.

Sarah glared at the younger Scions in her Nine. Return to your bunks and choose something from your studies to review. I expect absolute silence from you until Sensei unlocks the door.

With a chorus of Yes, Sarah, the girls disbanded.

Sarah returned to her own bunk and flopped onto it, as if chastising her Nine had taken the last milliliter of her energy.

Jacey returned to the edge of Sarah’s bunk. Thanks for not taking my pin.

Sarah smiled slightly, and Jacey noticed the tiniest quiver at the edge of the girl’s mouth. Their Nine leader had been distracted for the last few days, and the Nine had caught a whiff of her anxiety.

Jacey knew better than to draw direct attention to the display of nervousness. The best thing was to acknowledge the coming event, but in a tangential way.

I’ll miss discussing our studies, Jacey said quietly.

Sarah didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she stared into Jacey’s eyes as if trying to memorize her. She reached out and patted Jacey’s hand. I wish Dr. Carlhagen had allowed me to study more literature.

I know how you feel, Jacey said. She had always wanted to learn the advanced math that Sarah studied, but Dr. Carlhagen forbade it.

Sarah had taught Jacey some algebra in exchange for hearing plays and stories. Aside from the one year when Sarah had been at the Scion School while Jacey was still at Children’s Villa, they had never been apart.

Sarah looked toward the doors. Jacey knew what she was thinking.

You were right, Jacey. Dr. Carlhagen came. That had to be why the Jeep crossed the quad.

You didn’t think he’d miss the first Scion School graduation, did you?

They hadn’t seen the headmaster in four years, and the last time had been on Birthday as well. Each year, the question of whether or not he’d show up generated huge speculation.

You’ll finally find out what’s next, Jacey said.

Sarah’s eyebrows knit together. Her face paled as she dropped her efforts to conceal her fear. I’m so scared, Jacey.

Jacey glanced around to see if their conversation was drawing any notice. The girls in the next bunk appeared to be deep in their readers.

Across the aisle, Vin still lectured her Nine about poise and propriety and what it meant to be a Scion. It was wearisome, but at least she did it quietly.

Jacey leaned a bit closer to Sarah so she could keep her voice down. Aren’t you excited to leave the island, though?

No, Sarah said, eyes welling. What if I am assigned to the North American wastelands or to one of the European pestilence zones?

That’s not very likely, is it? Jacey said. What would be the point of training us only to send us off to certain death?

I hope you’re right. I want to get started rebuilding the world. I really do. I just worry that I am going to be thrown into something beyond my abilities.

Jacey squeezed Sarah’s shoulder. You’ll do well. You’ve done a great job leading our Nine. And I’ll miss you.

Sarah enfolded Jacey in her arms, squeezed her. Jacey returned the embrace, not caring who saw.

Let them call us Dolphins.

The rumblings outside went on, and eventually Jacey returned to her top bunk and focused her attention on the ceiling fan.

She’d lost her place. It was tedious to have to start at the very beginning, but she’d learned from long practice that shortcuts led to mistakes.

Dr. Carlhagen’s presence on the island reinvigorated her commitment to perfection, so she started over.

Pi.

Three-point-one-four-one . . .

° ° °

THE FRONT DOORS TO GIRLS’ HALL rattled just as Jacey finished her memorization review: pi to a thousand decimal places.

Sensei unlocked the doors, then continued around the outside of the dormitory, unlatching shutters and swinging them open. A welcome breeze brought in the scent of the sea and bougainvillea blossoms. By the time he’d finished and stepped inside, the Nines were standing in their roll-call positions.

Jacey didn’t know how old Sensei Mario Rosa was, though a hint of gray touched his temples. His rugged features and thick hands hinted at his great physical strength, and his presence was . . .

Not intimidating. That wasn’t the right word.

Potent.

An aura of buzzing energy always surrounded the martial arts master, as if the very air around him were about to explode. And yet his presence calmed Jacey, because one never doubted that Sensei was in absolute control.

His eyes scanned the room like a searchlight. Top of schedule.

Yes, Sensei, they replied in unison. That meant they’d begin the day as if there hadn’t been lockdown. Assuming the Arrival happened when it usually did, one of their activities would be cut short. Jacey hoped it wasn’t her dance recital.

Sensei spun and headed across the quad toward Boys’ Hall.

2

She Wasn't Good for Him

Upon arriving at the hacienda, Dr. Carlhagen tottered to his office. The long sea journey and bumpy Jeep ride had left him weary and battered. Next time he’d come by helicopter.

He opened his desk drawer and dug out his bottle of andleprixen, a painkiller he’d developed long ago. Like the rest of his inventions, it had never received regulatory approval. His hands trembled such that the bottle shook like a maraca. At nearly ninety-three, he had little to complain about. He had lived a long life, most of it vigorous, and had left a series of successes in his wake that would leave an indelible mark on human history.

Assuming he survived the next year.

He twisted off the cap and downed a slightly larger dose than necessary. No matter. His liver was healthy enough, and the pills were the only thing that helped the damned arthritis. Oh, how he longed for the careless ease of his youth.

Soon, soon, he reminded himself. A year. If he could just make it a year.

Mr. Justin, the butler, appeared in his doorway. He bowed low, flashing the crown of his hairless head. The Progenitors are all settled in the medical ward, sir. Nurse Smith has begun the tests you requested.

Good. He pulled his old timepiece from his vest pocket and glanced at the yellowed face. Plenty of time. I’ll call you if I need anything else.

Yes, sir. Mr. Justin bowed again and departed.

Dr. Carlhagen stroked his gnarled thumb across the face of the timepiece. The watch was an heirloom, handed down from eldest son to eldest son since 1913.

Two hundred years. If only his heart could tick as long as that miraculous device.

The thought brought an even broader smile to his face. His father had paid a watchsmith to replace the original action inside the watch. How proud the old man had been of the work. Look, son. You’d never know these weren’t original parts. The smith even matched the patina on the gears.

Dr. Carlhagen remembered feeling nothing but disdain. If one was going to go to all that effort, why not improve the device? Why not use modern materials? Why not polish it up to shine like new?

Some considered antiques more beautiful because of their age, an idea Dr. Carlhagen had never understood.

Youth was true beauty.

Enough philosophizing. He tucked the watch back into his pocket and turned his attention to what lay ahead.

Eighteen years of work had come to this day, the first graduating class. Finding Progenitors rich enough to afford a Scion had been relatively easy. The trick had been finding ones with enough urgency or inborn recklessness to go first. If they knew that Dr. Carlhagen himself had not been willing to take that risk, he doubted they would have agreed.

A pleasant flush of warmth filled Dr. Carlhagen’s veins as the andleprixen took effect. The pain in his joints eased, and his ever-present headache faded.

He had nothing to worry about. The Progenitors would all end up happy customers. The animal tests and the one human trial had proven the technology, and he’d made progress since then.

Once the first transfers were complete, he’d know for sure if all the effort and expense had been worth it. If so, he had a long life of extraordinary wealth and power to look forward to.

If not . . .

He gave the bottle of andleprixen a little shake before tucking it back into the drawer. There were plenty of pills left to make a quick end.

He put his hands on the surface of his bare desk, initiating a Michael session. The AI’s holographic image, fifteen centimeters high, resolved above Dr. Carlhagen’s desk.

Welcome back to St. Vitus, Doctor.

Anything I should know about, Michael?

I’d prefer if you call me Socrates.

I’ll call you whatever I wish.

Michael’s avatar wore a finely tailored suit. He always appeared to Dr. Carlhagen as a young man in his mid-thirties, hair cut short and neatly combed, exactly how Dr. Carlhagen’s business partner, Michael, had looked before uploading himself. He’d taken to calling himself Socrates when Dr. Carlhagen put him in charge of educating the Scions.

The students are doing well. I get the usual questions about graduation and the state of the world occasionally. Sensei Rosa has done a wonderful job curbing that. I never get questions from Crabs or older anymore.

Excellent. It’s been, what, four years?

Yes, sir.

I want to see the Eagles.

Michael nodded solemnly then transformed into the head and shoulders of a young man with dark eyes and short-cropped hair.

This is Vaughan, Michael said. Focus is on math, economics, and finance. Sensei considers him the strongest Scion on campus and the best fighter he’s ever seen.

Dr. Carlhagen leaned back. The boy’s resemblance to his Progenitor shouldn’t have startled him, but it did. It also irritated him. Show me Humphrey.

Vaughan’s face dissolved into a boy with a thinner face, bony cheeks and prominent Adam’s apple. He had a slightly sullen look, which made Dr. Carlhagen snort.

Next.

A pale, coldly beautiful girl took shape, thin lips pressed together, giving her a somewhat tense aspect. Is Belle still having issues?

Yes. A textbook case of depression. Shall I have Nurse Smith add an appropriate medicine to her daily?

No.

Dr. Carlhagen had argued with Michael about this several times before. The AI didn’t appreciate the risks of meddling with a Scion’s brain chemistry. The anti-depressives lingered for a long time. The risk to the Progenitor was too great.

She’ll have to make it through one more year. Watch her, though. If necessary, I can have Nurse Smith hold her in the medical ward.

Yes, sir.

Show me Jacey. Despite the andleprixen, Dr. Carlhagen’s heart picked up speed. One of the reasons he’d stayed away from St. Vitus so long was to avoid seeing her. She wasn’t good for him.

Belle’s face dissolved and reformed into one so familiar and so beautiful it stole his breath.

Michael said, She’s been on a memory and literature track for most of her time at the Scion School.

Dr. Carlhagen had to clear his throat in order to speak. How is Jacey doing?

Superbly. The most gifted memorization skills I’ve seen in a human.

The irony made Dr. Carlhagen laugh. Jacey’s Progenitor, an actress, had asked for memorization training as an afterthought.

Rule infractions? he asked.

Few. None intentional.

What were they?

Sensei Rosa reported three occasions Jacey spoke with a boy outside of allowed social periods. Sensei believed the transgressions to be incidental. He issued exercise punishments.

Which boy?

Vaughan.

Of course it was. Dr. Carlhagen forced his jaw to relax even as he reached for the drawer handle to get his bottle of pills. He stopped himself and instead took hold of his cane and stroked the handle, a silver boar’s head.

As he stared at the girl’s beautiful, familiar face, his mind started down a well-worn path. And just like the Jeep when its tire got stuck in a rut, he found it impossible to change the course of his thoughts. The hologram of Jacey’s face had long disappeared by the time Dr. Carlhagen’s mind came to a fork in the road.

But for all his thinking and musing, Dr. Carlhagen knew he’d made the decision about Jacey long ago.

Mr. Justin!

The butler stepped in and gave a slight bow.

Prepare to greet two guests in the hacienda. And bring the box in here.

Yes, sir.

Dr. Carlhagen summoned Michael again and gave him new instructions.

3

A Pattern of Impressions

Jacey held her breath as she watched the recording of herself on the wall-to-wall dance studio mirrors. Her big moment was coming.

The class’s ballet performance had played back uninterrupted for nearly five minutes, an unprecedented duration. Usually Madam LaFontaine, the AI dance mistress, stopped it every twenty seconds to point out a flaw in a dancer’s technique.

The music built toward a crescendo and Jacey watched herself spin and hit a preparatory pose. The other dancers tiptoed away, spinning with flourishes of arms and tutus. Madam LaFontaine had added a colorful backdrop behind the performers, one that didn’t exist in the bare-walled dance studio where they had actually performed.

The dance mistress had also added a spotlight, which pooled around Jacey’s image as she began a series of turns, building speed, then launched herself into the air. At the peak of her leap, the mirror paused and Madam LaFontaine’s AI image resolved into view among the frozen dancers.

Jacey studied her leap position. Her legs were extended in perfect front splits, toes pointed, arms overhead. She couldn’t see any problem, except one. She would never forgive herself if she was the reason Madam had paused the performance. She let her breath go when she saw the real cause.

Madam LaFontaine, who appeared only as a reflection in the mirror, stepped among the still girls, stopping behind Suki, an eleven-year-old in ballet shoes. She was frozen mid-fouetté.

Madam made a tsking noise. Suki, tell me what is wrong with this position.

Suki, one of three Crabs in the class, stepped forward and studied her reflection. My toe isn’t pointed, and I’m off balance.

Correct, Madam LaFontaine said. She motioned with her hand, and a blue line appeared on the mirror, indicating the axis of Suki’s turn, clearly showing the angle. She motioned again, and a green line appeared, showing the correct, vertical angle. "You cannot stay balanced if you are not straight. During your next free break, I expect you in here practicing your fouettés."

Suki curtsied to the mirror. Yes, madam.

The instructor walked among the other dancers in the reflection, offering comments on their positions. Conrad, excellent. Tytus, good, good.

She continued down the line and shook her head sadly at the image of Belle, whom Jacey thought looked quite stunning in a perfect arabesque pose.

How did you get the name ‘Belle?’ Madam LaFontaine asked. Look at your face.

Jacey hadn’t noticed Belle’s impassive face because the girl always looked like that. The only indication of Belle’s emotional state was in her eyes, subtle cues that Jacey couldn’t explain but sometimes recognized, having spent all seventeen years of her life with the girl.

Where is the passion? Madam LaFontaine asked, waving a hand in front of Belle’s frozen face.

The real Belle didn’t react.

If it is not in the face, it is not in the body, Madam LaFontaine said. If it is not in the body, it is not in the audience.

There is no audience, Belle said.

No audience? Madam threw her arms up in her usual dramatic fashion then pointed to the class. Look around you! Your fellow students.

They are the performers, Belle said.

And now they are standing still, watching their performance. The performer becomes the audience. You are the audience.

Yes, Madam LaFontaine. It was typical of Belle to concede a point she didn’t care to win. She learned skills, executed them flawlessly, but without any indication of interest, and certainly, as Madam LaFontaine had pointed out, without passion.

The instructor turned, cast an eye over the rest of the dancers and nodded in satisfaction. Jacey thought she was going to ignore her grand moment as the featured dancer, but then Madam turned to face her.

Jacey! she said, holding her arms out and then turning to the still image of Jacey in the mirror. "Excellent! La grande battement superbe. Then in a torrent of French, Madam LaFontaine waxed rhapsodic, pointing out the perfection of the lines. Suddenly she stopped and raised an eyebrow. Jacey, the mouth, the mouth, the mouth!" With every repetition, Madam LaFontaine flung an arm out to the side.

Jacey sighed. She’d never broken the habit of biting the corner of her lip during challenging moves. And there she was, frozen mid-air, biting her lip.

The youngest dancers—Dolphins and Pelicans—couldn’t suppress giggles, and for once Madam LaFontaine didn’t admonish them for it.

But perhaps it’s not an imperfection, Madam said. In the grand halls of Paris or St. Petersburg, perhaps this performance tic of yours would be considered a signature expression. Indeed, in the virtuoso, a slight imperfection is a grace note that makes the whole even more perfect.

Jacey’s face went hot under her instructor’s praise. She curtsied and Madam applauded, then encouraged the others to applaud.

Belle smacked her hands together four times and then resumed her still pose, patiently waiting for class to end.

Madam’s image disappeared, and the performance continued. Jacey landed, completed several more turns, and the dancers all came together in a final pose to end the performance.

The mirror faded to black and became just a mirror, showing all the Scions milling about on the dance floor.

A burst of chatter erupted, and several of the students hugged each other. The younger girls mostly, those who had not had the habit trained out of them yet. Several came up to Jacey and congratulated her. She accepted as graciously as she could, but couldn’t keep the heat from her cheeks.

She wanted the attention to last forever, but they had to get to class. The dancers headed out of the studio and into the changing room. Still feeling the pleasant glow of self-satisfaction, Jacey changed into her school uniform and stuffed her pointe shoes into her cubby.

Jacey waited at the entry for the rest of her Nine to line up behind her. All the girls in Jacey’s Nine were in dance, as were seven of Vin’s. It was a credit to both Dante and Ping that the five boys from their Nines formed up and headed off to their next activity.

Sarah stood to one side until everyone in her Nine was in position. Then, with solemn formality, she led them single-file down the wooden steps of the dojo complex and onto the quad.

The quadrangle was a grassy park at the center of the Scion School campus. Thick-boled trees grew here and there, offering shady spots where students gathered during class breaks to goof off or catch up on studies. A wooden platform stood in the middle, ready for the Birthday ceremony later that day.

The sun had broken over the eastern mountains, their rounded tops green and stark against the bluing sky. An easy, warm breeze blew from the east, heavy with the scent of salt water and the sweet blooms of island vegetation. Jacey breathed it in and savored it the way she might a cool drink after a long run.

The landscape sloped down toward the sea. And in the far distance, Turtle Island humped from the water like the back of a giant whale.

Sarah turned right and led the Nine into the girls’ classroom. It had the same floor plan as Girls’ Hall, but instead of bunks lining the walls, there were two rows of nine desks. Jacey fell out of line and took her spot at the last desk. Positions were assigned based on age, putting the youngest at the front. Sarah, as Nine leader, took one of the two desks that faced back toward the students. It allowed her to keep an eye on her Nine and assist if Socrates requested it. Vin and her Nine took the desks across the aisle.

The desks were meter-wide spans of glass upon metal frames. Dr. Carlhagen didn’t allow chairs, so the desk legs automatically adjusted to each student’s height, allowing them to stand comfortably during their lessons. Jacey put her hands on the surface, causing a light to fade into existence in the center of the glass.

The light brightened and extended above the desk, then dissolved into the fifteen-centimeter-tall holo of Professor Socrates. He wore a version of the school uniform, except it was white instead of black, and he wore no collar pin. His long white hair flowed into a luxuriant white beard.

He blinked his heavy eyelids and smiled. Good morning, Jacey.

Iterations of his holo stood on all the other students’ desks as well, though they spoke of different things.

Good morning, Professor. Today is Birthday.

Socrates put his hands to his head in an expression of shock. Don’t tell me you are already a Shark? My, how time flies.

Jacey’s fingers went to the Eagle pin on her collar. Not yet, Professor, but soon. Do you know my course schedule for my Shark year?

I do. A book appeared in his hands. Let’s see, dance and movement, of course. Tai Chi, memory drill. Ah, Russian literature! One of my favorites. He worked his finger down the page. Shakespeare’s tragedies.

Again? It would be her third time working through the tragedies. Professor Socrates winked. "You’ll memorize them this time."

What about math? she asked hopefully.

Professor’s face lost expression. I’m afraid not. He snapped the book closed, and it disappeared.

But—

Ah, ah, ah, he said, waggling a gnarled finger at her. We’ll not rehash old arguments. Dr. Carlhagen has made his decision. Which reminds me, he wants to see you at the hacienda in fifteen minutes.

Jacey blinked a few times before nodding. She had been to the hacienda only a few times in her years at Scion School, and never alone. But what about memory drill? I’m ready to recite Pi.

I keep statistics, of course. His book reappeared, and he flipped to a page. Your recall of our last memorization set was one hundred percent over five sessions. I think that is satisfactory. We’ll begin new memorization exercises tomorrow. I’ve already informed Sarah of your appointment with Dr. Carlhagen. You are excused. Professor Socrates’s image disappeared.

She stared in awe at the blank desk. She’d expected class to be curtailed due to the lockdown, but to be dismissed while the others were still working was unprecedented.

Directly ahead of Jacey, Wanda flicked her fingers to magnify the internal organs of a virtual frog; beyond her, Bethancy manipulated columns of holographic words, sorting them by language and meaning.

Jacey left the classroom and stepped back into the sunshine. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been outside by herself. It would take ten minutes to walk the path up to Dr. Carlhagen’s hacienda, so she had five minutes to spare.

Five whole minutes! Outside. By herself.

The freedom sent a thrill through her blood like she’d never experienced. It made her smile and stretch her arms out.

The white stucco walls of the buildings glared in the sun, their red-tiled roofs stark against the backdrop of green foliage that covered the island of St. Vitus.

She wandered onto the quad, taking care to avoid the metal grating covering the pit. She hated the smells that wafted from its black depths.

She went to the temporary wooden platform in the middle of the quad. The Snakes and Spiders had set it up the night before for the Birthday ceremony. Later, all the students would cross the platform to receive their new pins. From her vantage point on the platform, Jacey could see beyond Sensei’s dojo to the chain-link-gated entrance to the campus.

On impulse, she jumped down from the platform and cut between the dining hall and the dojo to the warehouse. She went inside and checked the dry storage bay. Sure enough, it was packed floor to ceiling with pallets of rice, beans, flour, and nuts. More was stuffed into a walk-in freezer.

As far as she knew, no student had ever been in the warehouse so soon after a lockdown. She went outside and quickly scanned the gravel road that led from the warehouse to the gate. Over the years, the gravel had turned to pebbly sand in a few places. In one such spot, she found what she was looking for. A pattern of impressions, like those made by the Jeep’s tires. These tracks were different than the Jeep’s, though, proving what the Scions had long suspected. Other vehicles came during lockdown to deliver supplies. Other people.

Jacey wanted to look around more, but she didn’t dare be late for her meeting with Dr. Carlhagen. As she walked across the grass of the quadrangle, she thought back to the nervous curiosity of the younger girls in her Nine. Now she’d be able to tell them with certainty about what happened during lockdown.

Her stomach gave an uneasy turn as she reflected on it. The tire tracks may have answered one question, but it left many more. The one that occupied her most was perhaps the biggest.

Why weren’t the Scions allowed to see the supply vehicles or the people who drove them?

4

As Foolish as a Dolphin

Jacey put her question aside as she climbed the wide, gravel path to the hacienda. It wound among palm trees and past long hedgerows of flowering bougainvillea. Maintaining the grounds around the hacienda was one of the tasks of the twelve-year-olds. Jacey remembered hours spent in the sun as a Crab, planting cuttings from the hedges. She felt a bit of pride at how full and tall they’d grown over the past five years.

In all her time at the Scion School, she had been inside the hacienda only three times, and that was years earlier. In each instance, Dr. Carlhagen had asked a few questions. She had answered by reciting lines of poetry, playacting at being happy or sad, or by doing a pirouette or other dance skill. At the end of each visit, Dr. Carlhagen had congratulated her and sent her on her way.

Everyone had similar experiences, though no one knew what the point of it was. Jacey thought Dante had the best guess: it was a sort of test, similar to the frequent medical exams they underwent, but for cognitive function or some sort of psychological profile.

Jacey got to the front doors, two huge slabs of mahogany, each intricately carved with images of palm trees. She waited silently, hands clasped in front of her. After a few minutes, the doors swung silently inward, and she stepped into a tiled foyer.

Mr. Justin, Dr. Carlhagen’s butler, greeted her. He wore his usual white-linen tunic over baggy trousers. The tips of his sandaled toes peeked from beneath the wide hem of his pant legs. His lips spread into a wide, white smile, his angled eyes scrunching and sending crow’s feet to his temples.

He bowed formally. Welcome, Miss Jacey. If you’ll please wait by the pool. Dr. Carlhagen is with another student.

Thank you, Mr. Justin.

The foyer transitioned into a wide living area furnished with white wicker chairs. Floor-to-ceiling accordion doors along the far wall were pushed wide open, extending the room into the outdoors, where terra cotta tiles surrounded a crystal-blue swimming pool.

Mr. Justin guided Jacey to a glass-topped table where a pitcher of ice water glistened. Beads of condensation ran down its sides, dripping onto a white towel neatly folded beneath it. She reached for the pitcher, but Mr. Justin deftly took it up and poured her a glass. With delicate silver tongs, he plucked a slice of lemon from a dish and dropped it in. He handed the glass to her with a slight bow.

Thank you, she said.

After Mr. Justin departed, she walked from beneath the roofed area and skirted the pool to inspect the view. The hacienda stood on the upper slope of one of St. Vitus’s many green hills. Below her, a green and tan carpet of wind-battered scrubby plant-life covered the land. A kilometer down, the vegetation ended at a rocky shore of black boulders. Low waves lapped against the rocks, and farther out, a line of white curls broke against a reef hidden beneath the blue waters. Beyond that, the dark sea met the light blue of the sky. White clouds scudded overhead, driven by the ceaseless winds that blew across the island. It made Jacey’s ponytail flutter behind her and pressed her loose-fitting uniform against her body.

She turned her face into the wind and closed her eyes, enjoying the caress of the sun. Her thoughts turned to Sarah and the nervousness that had broken through her friend’s usual calm. Jacey discovered that she, too, was nervous. Nervous about being in Dr. Carlhagen’s hacienda. Nervous about the Birthday celebration. Nervous for Sarah and whatever future she faced.

She turned her eyes again to the horizon and wondered what lay beyond, trying to imagine the wreckage of the world. As usual, she found it impossible to envision, since all she had ever experienced in her life was the beauty of St. Vitus.

Voices came from behind her, and she turned to see Dr. Carlhagen’s office door open and Humphrey walk out. He caught sight of her and stopped mid-step.

Jacey, he said, bending in a slight bow, an unusual show of manners for him.

His usual smirk lifted into a strained smile. I guess we’re going to be friends. He emphasized friends, but Jacey wasn’t sure if he meant it to convey sarcasm or skepticism.

She had no idea what he was talking about, but the idea that they would be friends did seem strange. I’ll certainly appreciate the effort on your part.

Humphrey’s face flashed with a momentary irritation, but he mastered it and stalked off, ignoring Mr. Justin’s bow as he went out the mahogany doors.

Jacey, come, Dr. Carlhagen said from inside his office.

She took a deep breath and walked into the spacious, but dark, room. Everything from the wall paneling to the desk was made of rich mahogany. The air smelled of leather and a spicy scent Jacey associated only with Dr. Carlhagen.

The headmaster sat in a tall-backed chair behind the desk. He looked the same as he ever had, an old man with neatly-coiffed white hair, a white beard covering his prominent cheeks and strong jaw. He wore a spotless white suit and a blue bow tie that brought out the sapphire of his eyes. Those eyes locked onto Jacey with a disconcerting intensity, and she had to resist looking down at herself to see if she was violating some rule regarding dress code.

He didn’t say anything, so she curtsied. Headmaster.

Dr. Carlhagen clasped his fingers together and propped his elbows on his desk, which was bare except for his cane and a low white box.

His eyes flashed to her feet and then back to her face, and in that moment she felt he had scanned not only her uniform but also the depths of her mind.

Jacey, he said, breaking into a broad smile, today is your birthday.

It is everyone’s Birthday.

True, true. But you’re the only one here right now. I’ve been watching your progress with great interest. Great interest.

He unclasped his hands, patted his desk, and stood, though it seemed to pain him. Now that you are entering your final year here at the Scion School, I intend to spend more time with you—to prepare you for graduation and beyond.

Thank you, Jacey said. Is that why Humphrey was here?

Yes, yes. And for similar reasons. In fact, I’ll be working with you jointly on occasion. Your futures are linked.

Jacey’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she searched for a response. Um, thank you. She didn’t know which stunned her more, the revelation that her future was linked with Humphrey’s or the fact that Dr. Carlhagen had referred to her future at all.

Everyone assumed that Scions would leave the island after graduation. But no one knew where they would go. The question was the subject of much late-night conversation, even though it was tacitly forbidden to discuss. The Dolphins and Pelicans were forgiven for asking about it the first few times. But after that, if a student asked Socrates—or heaven forbid, Dr. Carlhagen himself—the only outcome was extra chores. The headmaster always admonished students, saying that since they couldn’t live the future in the present, they had no business worrying about the future in the present.

Have you worked with this year’s graduating Scions in this way? she asked. Dante or Sarah? Ping? None of them had mentioned having one-on-one meetings with Dr. Carlhagen.

No, no, he said. You and Humphrey are special cases.

What exactly is my future? The words slipped out before she even knew she was saying them. She closed her eyes. I’m sorry.

Dr. Carlhagen just smiled. It’s natural to be curious about the future. One aches to know what’s in store. I can say with great certainty that you are destined for greatness.

That’s what he said to all of the students. Jacey had heard the same from Mother Tyeesha in Children’s Villa across the island before coming to The Scion School.

You have been chosen, Jacey, Mother Tyeesha had said. All of the Scions have been chosen for a great destiny. You must study hard and prepare yourself for it.

Jacey nodded. Yes, sir. It felt like the safest thing to say. She wasn’t about to risk getting in trouble by asking more questions.

Dr. Carlhagen plucked up his cane and hobbled around his desk, trailing his free hand along the lid of the white box. He glanced at it, then faced her. He stood close and stared into her eyes for a long time, mouth curled in a slight smile. The spicy scent was stronger now.

You have blossomed into such a beautiful young woman. I watched your dance performance today. Humphrey, too. He knows nothing about ballet, but even he was impressed. In my youth, I saw the finest ballerinas in the world, before everything went to hell. You would have been a star had you been born in an earlier age.

Jacey couldn’t keep the grin from her face, but it slackened somewhat at the thought of Humphrey watching. And Dr. Carlhagen had said their futures were linked. How are Humphrey and I—?

The headmaster put a gnarled finger to her lips. Let’s not discuss all that just now.

He turned to his desk and pointed his cane at the white box. I asked you up here to give you this. Go ahead.

Jacey took a tentative step toward the desk and looked back at Dr. Carlhagen. He nodded encouragingly. She had never received a gift before. She lifted the lid to reveal a mass of thin pink paper. A hint of floral scent wafted up as she pulled on one edge. Beneath the paper lay a white garment. She drew it out of the crinkling paper and let it unfold. It was a white gown with a scooped neckline and thin shoulder straps. Jacey hadn’t worn a dress since she had turned nine.

It’s beautiful.

Put it on, Dr. Carlhagen said softly. He guided her through a side door into a bathroom. The vanity countertop was made of rich, black granite, as were the floor tiles. She closed the door and quickly stripped off her uniform. She stepped into the dress, sliding her arms through the straps. It had a zipper up the back, but she couldn’t quite contort herself to get it all the way closed. She stepped back into the office, and Dr. Carlhagen clapped and smiled.

Beautiful, he said.

He turned his finger in a circle, indicating she should spin. She did, giggling. She felt as foolish as a Dolphin.

Wait, wait. He pressed his warm hands on her shoulders and faced her away from him. He fumbled with the zipper, closing it the last few inches.

There. Now let me see you.

He stared at her for a long time, shaking his head and smiling. Lovely. Just lovely.

The smile faded, turned to a frown. He ran a finger along the strap of the black bra she wore under the dress. I’ll have to find you the proper under-things.

With that, he sighed and pulled a round timepiece from his coat pocket. I’m afraid we’re out of time. The new arrivals will be here soon.

He shooed her back into the bathroom, and she changed into her uniform and carefully folded the dress.

She came out, and he motioned to the box. Leave the dress here.

Jacey could only imagine the distraction it would cause among the others. She put the dress back in the box, gently folded the thin paper over it, and replaced the lid. She didn’t want to leave the dress. She wanted to put it back on and never remove it. It made her feel beautiful, something she only felt when she danced.

I’ll see you at the celebration, Dr. Carlhagen said. Soon, I’ll invite you back to the hacienda for a quiet dinner so you can enjoy your new frock.

Thank you, Dr. Carlhagen.

He returned to his chair, and she knew she was dismissed. She left his office and went out of the villa, acknowledging Mr. Justin’s bow with a nod.

A gust of wind blew across her as she walked along the path, chilling her despite the sun. The glow of wearing the dress had faded, and her thoughts turned back to the future Dr. Carlhagen had spoken of. Or rather, had refused to speak of.

She wondered if she could get something out of Humphrey, then laughed humorlessly. That conversation would be like walking barelegged through a thornskipple patch.

5

A Secret Code or Something

As Jacey came to the bottom of the path, a steady stream of students emerged from the classrooms and dormitories and headed toward the campus gate.

She picked up her pace, passing the low medical ward, the domain of Nurse Smith. Like all structures on campus, its off-white, stucco walls were capped with a roof of red Spanish tile.

The round, stone foundation of the bell tower marked the northern edge of the quad. It had once been part of a sugar mill, or so Sensei said. A white plank-sided tower stood atop the foundation, tripling its height. A Pelican named Rachel dashed inside the tall archway.

You better hustle, Jacey called after her.

Rachel was in Jacey’s Nine. The girl should have climbed up to the bell five minutes earlier. Sarah’s anxiety about graduation had made her lax with the Nine. That, or she just didn’t care anymore.

No matter. Once Sarah graduated and Jacey advanced to Shark, Jacey would get them back into shape.

Heading up the Nine would be extra work, but it would allow Jacey to demonstrate her leadership ability. Vaughan, Humphrey, and Belle would each have their own Nines.

As she passed by Boys’ Hall, she felt a familiar presence behind her. She slowed to let Vaughan catch up.

Happy Birthday, she said without looking at him. There were too many other students around for this exchange to be considered inappropriate fraternization, but since she and Vaughan had a history of trouble with that particular rule, they had taken to not looking at each other when they spoke.

Happy Birthday. He sounded distracted.

Are you ready to become a Shark? A silly question as far as Jacey was concerned. Everyone knew Vaughan was ready. He’d been ready for years. Even his own Nine leader, Dante, looked up to him. Jacey thought it had something to do with his voice, which was always gentle, yet had an undertone of certainty. Like Sensei’s voice. In fact, Vaughan was similar to Sensei in many ways.

I will do my duty, he said. It was a typical Vaughan answer. He wasn’t self-centered enough to claim that he was ready to lead.

They drew close to the dojo, where a gravel path led from the quad toward the campus’s chain-link entry gate.

Jacey chanced a look at her friend. Like all Scions, he wore loose black trousers and a black, mandarin-collared top. But it hung differently from his tall, broad frame than it did from anyone else’s.

The only flaw in his symmetrical face was the prominent vein on one temple. Jacey thought it stood out a bit more than usual. And his jaw was clenched.

Are you angry about something? she asked.

I’m just nervous.

Jacey laughed. The thought of Vaughan being nervous about anything was ridiculous. Pitching her voice up like Nurse Smith’s, she said, You just need a good night’s sleep and you’ll be right as rain.

His lips curled in a wan smile. Jacey could mimic almost any female voice, but Nurse Smith’s was her favorite.

Happy Birthday, Vaughan. Belle, also an Eagle, appeared at his other side. A slight flush of red marked her pale cheeks. She flashed an odd look at Jacey. There was something reptilian about it, as if Jacey was a fly Belle meant to eat.

Happy Birthday, Belle, Vaughan said.

Jacey echoed him but without much enthusiasm. Belle had recently taken it upon herself to police Jacey and Vaughan’s interactions. Not wholly unreasonable, since Sensei had given everyone extra exercise following Jacey’s and Vaughan’s last transgression.

It still irritated Jacey. She and Vaughan had merely been chatting in the shade of one of the trees in the quad. It wasn’t as if they’d run off behind the dojo together.

At the wide gravel lot before the gate, the students assembled into their Nines. Jacey stepped into her slot behind Sarah.

Two paces to her left was Belle, second of Vin’s Nine. To Jacey’s right stood Vaughan, second of Dante’s Nine. Beyond him was Ping’s Nine. Humphrey nodded absently as Ping gave him final instructions. Jacey knew Humphrey would ignore all orders and advice from Ping. He was too full of himself to think anyone could know anything of importance.

Jacey sensed a tension in the crowd. The younger Scions whispered among themselves and kept throwing glances at the gate. Jacey had seen this ritual many times before, and it never got easier. Not everyone seemed bothered, though. Belle looked bored and impatient. For her, the arrival of a new group of nine-year-olds signified nothing except inconvenience. As a Nine leader, the new Scion would just mean more work.

The bell tolled once, bringing a hush over the assembly. A few minutes later, Rachel raced in to find her place. Soon, all stood in silence, awaiting Dr. Carlhagen’s arrival.

The smell of smoke wafted across the lot. Jacey tensed, knowing that somewhere behind her Sensei had lit the fire in the burning barrel.

After all these years, she still detested that thing.

Sensei walked among their ranks, making a final inspection before taking position at a microphone stand set up just in front of the huge chain-link entry gates. Attention!

As one, the students stiffened, shoulders back, chins up, arms at sides, eyes straight ahead. The only sound was the wind and a familiar chuckling from somewhere behind them. Dr. Carlhagen walked through their ranks and met Sensei, who bowed.

Dr. Carlhagen stood resplendent in his crisp, white suit, his silver hair waved slightly in the wind. He nodded a greeting to Sensei, then turned to study the assembly. He smiled and spread his hands wide, letting his cane dangle. Happy Birthday!

Thank you, Headmaster, the Scions replied in unison.

The headmaster beamed, shining his attention on each Nine in turn. My, how you thirty-six Scions have grown!

He pulled a slim black notebook from an inside pocket of his jacket. He licked his finger and flipped through a few pages, then cleared his throat and read, There are few occasions worth marking with any degree of formality, but the Birthday is one of them. It signifies your advancement, serves to remind you of how quickly time passes. You each have a great destiny ahead of you. Embrace it. Reaffirm your commitment to excellence in everything you do. Prepare your minds and bodies for the great responsibilities that lie ahead.

He closed the notebook and put it back in his pocket before finishing his customary speech. Jacey could have recited his final words along with him. You are the Scions of humanity. You are the hope of the Earth.

With that, Dr. Carlhagen grinned and turned to Sensei. Open the gate. Let us welcome our new students.

Sensei pressed a button on a small device in his hand. Red lights at the top of the gate flashed, and a whining siren sounded. The gates started to grind open, sliding along the tall fence that separated the Scion School campus from the rest of the island. The fence, electrified and topped with razor wire, cut north and south across a relatively narrow section of the island, ending on both ends at rocky promontories overlooking the sea.

The siren fell silent as the gate shuddered to a stop, but the red lights continued to flash. On the gravel road just outside stood four small figures with Mother Tyeesha behind them. Jacey wanted to speak with her so badly. She wanted to feel the comfort of her embrace, hear her sing once more. Mother Tyeesha was too far away for Jacey to see in any detail, but she thought the woman looked more stooped, perhaps grayer.

Mother gently pushed the new nine-year-olds forward. Two boys and two girls. The first boy marched in fearlessly, chin up. The other boy and one of the girls followed after him, both casting nervous glances back at Mother Tyeesha.

The last girl didn’t move.

Come along, Dr. Carlhagen said, his voice booming through the speaker. You have nothing to fear. All of your worries are illusions.

Mother Tyeesha put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and whispered something in her ear. The girl nodded and began to move forward. Once she passed the threshold of the gate, Sensei pressed the button, and the gates started to slide shut.

Jacey watched Mother Tyeesha, tried to meet her eyes, but the woman was too far away. The chain-link gates slid closed, and the lights stopped flashing, and Mother Tyeesha was obscured again. Jacey wouldn’t see her for another year.

The four nine-year-olds stopped before Sensei and Dr. Carlhagen. The two boys were of the same height, both with dark hair. The first girl was taller and stockier. Jacey thought she might be bigger than some of the current class of Dolphins.

The last girl was much smaller, doll-like, with a mop of blond curls and eyes so wide that Jacey could see their green sparkle from where she stood.

Each child carried a tote containing all of his or her possessions. The furry head and ear of a stuffed animal poked out of the top of the smallest girl’s tote.

Dr. Carlhagen shook their hands and asked them to speak their name into the microphone.

Apollo.

Ivan.

Celia.

Livy.

Dr. Carlhagen smiled down at them. Now that you stand within the gates of the Scion School, you are no longer children. You must part with childish ways. You come among the chosen, those who have great destinies. I’m a firm believer in the value of rites of passage. This is a simple one. Walk among your new schoolmates and receive your uniforms. And this year we begin a new tradition. Our very first class of graduating Scions shall participate.

Jacey and the rest of her classmates moved to their assigned positions along the path. Smoke from the burning barrel made her eyes water, but she knew better than to break her poise to wipe the tears away.

The nine-year-olds started forward, and as they passed, all the students spoke, Welcome.

The two boys and the tall girl kept their eyes straight ahead, but the smallest girl, Livy, looked left and right and hugged her tote to her chest as if it were a shield. She wore a white dress that fell to her ankles, exposing pink sandals.

The four graduating Scions stepped into the path to meet the new arrivals.

Welcome, Apollo, Dante said and handed the boy a crisp new uniform. The other graduating boy, Ping, called to Ivan and gave him a uniform.

Vin, head of Belle’s Nine, approached Livy and thrust a uniform at her. Livy took it and tucked it into the top of her tote, covering the stuffed animal.

Sarah stepped forward and presented one to Celia, who took it with trembling hands. Sarah smiled at the girl, then led her to one of four canvas-sided changing tents.

The other graduates took their charges into tents; a minute later they reappeared, the new students dressed in their mandarin-collared black tops, loose trousers, and canvas shoes.

Dr. Carlhagen had circled around the Nines and was waiting at the end of the path, standing behind the burning barrel. Waves of heat rose from it, distorting Jacey’s view of him.

Commit your childish apparel to the flame, Dr. Carlhagen instructed.

One by one the new students threw their old clothes into the flaming barrel. Black smoke billowed out and was blown away by the wind.

Dr. Carlhagen spoke again. The Scion School provides everything needed for its students. Commit your possessions to the flame.

Apollo didn’t hesitate and tossed in his tote. Ivan quickly followed. It seemed clear to Jacey that Ivan took Apollo’s lead in everything. She felt bad for Ivan because the boys would soon be in separate Nines. Celia followed suit, though tears streamed down her cheeks.

Livy did not move. She still clutched the tote to her chest. Dr. Carlhagen watched her, and all stood in nervous silence. Slowly, Livy removed the stuffed animal, a little dog. She tossed the bag into the flaming barrel.

Dr. Carlhagen stared at her, waiting. She looked around, as if suddenly aware that all eyes were on her, that everyone expected her to finish her task.

Vaughan shifted next to Jacey, his jaw clenched. Jacey knew he hated this ceremony as much as she did.

She remembered her own moment before the barrel. She’d had a dolphin named Jumper. . . .

Dr. Carlhagen crouched in front of the girl and pushed a stray hair from her brow. What you fear to let go of is the very thing that holds you back, he said into the microphone.

Livy didn’t move except to clutch the toy dog even tighter. Dr. Carlhagen smiled and straightened. Livy will remain here until she is done with childhood. When she is ready, she may join us. The rest of us shall proceed to the quadrangle for the Birthday rite.

The Nines formed a procession behind the headmaster and Sensei and marched toward the platform in the quad. Jacey couldn’t help but look back at the small, lonely girl standing before the burning barrel.

Jacey noticed Vaughan doing the same, the muscles in his jaw bulging. He caught her watching him and looked ahead.

As the Scions arrived before the platform in the quad, Dr. Carlhagen ascended to the top. Sensei Rosa took a position slightly behind and to his left.

It’s time for our very first class of graduates from the Scion School, Dr. Carlhagen said. Would the eighteen-year-olds please come to the platform?

Sarah, Vin, Ping, and Dante climbed the steps. They took off their Shark pins and handed them to Dr. Carlhagen. He shook their hands, smiling broadly.

Please stand aside for a moment while we complete the pin exchange, he said.

Sensei motioned for the graduates to stand alongside him. Jacey thought Sarah looked even paler than before. Dante, dark-eyed and swarthy, wore his usual smoldering look, but he shifted foot to foot in a distinctly un-Dante-like display of nerves.

Would the new Sharks please come up, Dr. Carlhagen said, tapping his cane on the wooden planks.

Jacey followed Belle onto the stage and waited her turn as Dr. Carlhagen shook Belle’s hand and gave her a Shark pin in exchange for her Eagle. Belle walked off, and Jacey stepped forward and took Dr. Carlhagen’s warm, gnarled hand. He gave it a squeeze and looked into her eyes. Lovely, just lovely.

She pulled her hand free, gave him her Eagle pin, and accepted the Shark pin in return. He patted the small of her back as she walked away. The contact gave her shivers, and she rubbed her elbows as she descended the stairs.

She took position at the back of her Nine as the previous year’s Snakes went up to get their Eagle pins.

She watched carefully to see if Dr. Carlhagen paid any of the others as much attention as he had given her. Something about that look he’d given her raised the hair on the back of her neck.

The process continued as the new fifteen-year-olds exchanged their Spiders for Snakes, the Centipedes collected their Spiders, the Crabs got their Centipedes, and so on.

Let’s welcome our new Dolphins, Dr. Carlhagen said. The students clapped politely as Apollo, Ivan, and Celia walked up the steps to receive their Dolphin pins. Jacey turned to stare back at the smoke rising from behind the dojo where the burning barrel stood. Jacey had never seen a new arrival balk for this long. She wasn’t sure if she admired the girl or was irritated by her.

She could only imagine how Belle felt, since Livy was supposed to be in her Nine. Belle’s face betrayed nothing, of course. Except maybe an extra degree of hardness around the eyes.

The new Dolphins took their places