Another wave of relief sweeps through me. “I’m so glad she’s safe. Is she going to be able to stay here at the academy with me?”
“Normally not,” the headmistress says, “but Cassandra has been quite insistent—we’ve chased her off the premises a half-dozen times before finally giving in. So long as she doesn’t make trouble, she’ll be permitted to stay on as your companion.”
“Thank you,” I manage around the sudden lump in my throat. I struggle to hold back tears, and Professor Dalmatius gives me another reassuring squeeze. Just a few hours ago, I thought I’d lost Cass forever, and now I’m about to be reunited with her? It’s too good to be true.
The general makes an impatient sound in the back of his throat. “As touching as this all is, I do have other matters to attend,” he says. “Headmistress, are you going to sort her tonight?”
“Ah, yes!” The headmistress’s eyes glow with excitement as she leaps up from her chair. “How silly of me, I’d almost forgotten.”
She crosses over to a cabinet, using an incantation and more of those glowy rune things to unlock it, then returns with a lacquered wooden box. “Have a seat, Miss Blake,” she says as she sets the box on the table.
I slowly lower myself into the chair.
“Normally there is a ceremony,” the headmistress says, “but under the circumstances I think it’s best to get this over with.”
A hush falls over the room as she opens the box, revealing three objects inside it. Even Maxon has fallen silent, staring intently at the contents, though I can’t see what is so special about them. A knife, a crystal, and a mirror sit on a velvet-covered cushion, each object old and tarnished.
But as I stare at the objects, they seem to draw me in, and I begin to notice little details about them I hadn’t on first glance. The filigree pattern on the knife’s handle, the gilt edges of the mirror, the rainbow striations hidden deep within the crystal’s many facets. A subtle glow seems to emanate from them, but one glows brighter than the rest. Before I can think better of it, I reach out and grab the knife.
A blast of glowing light sears my retinas, and I throw my free hand up to shield my eyes. My instinct should be to drop the knife, but I grip it tighter as power floods through my entire body, just like the first time I’d picked up a scythe. I feel powerful, invincible, on top of the world—
“Very well done!” Professor Dalmatius cries. I blink the light from my eyes to see him beaming down at me, looking delighted. “You’re a Proeliator, which means you’ll be in my house.”
“House?” I echo weakly, looking around at everyone. Maxon looks like he’s just swallowed a lemon, but everyone else seems just as pleased as Dalmatius, even General Taius. “What are you guys talking about?”
“There are three types of reapers,” General Taius explains. “Proeliators are warriors, specially trained to fight demons and evil spirits, Magi are gifted in spellcraft, and Arbiters are trackers who specialize in retrieving lost or hard to find souls.”
“The objects within this box belonged to the three reapers who founded the academy—Marcus, Cassia, and Aurelius. This knife belonged to Marcus, who was a Proeliator himself,” the headmistress explains kindly. “I am not at all surprised that you ended up in his house.”
The headmistress’s eyes shine with pride, and a lump wells in my throat. “How—how do I know I’m going to be any good at this?” I ask, my voice trembling a little. This is all so new to me—I’m going to be a warrior? Training to fight demons and bring souls to the afterlife? I’ve been training to be an architect—nothing in my life has prepared me for this!
Maxon snorts, addressing me for the first time. “You’ve killed three demons in a week,” he retorts, his voice brimming with annoyance. “Believe me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Exactly,” the headmistress says briskly. “I have no doubt you’ll catch up with the other students in no time, especially once I’ve finished making the proper arrangements.” She gives Maxon a look, and he stiffens again. “It’s late now, Mr. Bellator. Why don’t you go ahead and get Miss Blake settled for tonight. I believe you have a spare bed in your dormitory, correct?”
Maxon’s face flushes. “I do, but—”
“Excellent.” The headmistress claps her hands as she gets to her feet. “Don’t worry, Miss Blake, you’ll get a proper bed in the girls’ dormitories tomorrow. But it is extraordinarily late, so off to bed with you now. We’ll sort everything out in the morning. Goodnight,” she adds, the word a clear dismissal.
“Goodnight, Headmistress,” Maxon says tersely. He gives me an unfathomable look, then spins on his heel and marches out the door, leaving me to hurry after him.
4
“Wait up!” I call as I dash up the hallway, trying to catch up with Maxon. He’s tall, at least six foot three, and one of his strides equals three of mine. “How am I supposed to keep up with you if you’re running away from me?”
“I’m not running away from you,” Maxon snaps, but he does slow down. “I just want to get to bed. This has been a shit night.”
“I’ll say,” I mutter, glancing back down the hall. Professor Dalmatius is still in there, likely still chatting with the headmistress and the general. I wish I were back there with him, or even better, in his office with those ancient, dusty tomes. I want to sip tea and eat cookies and listen to his smooth baritone as he tells me all there is to know about being a reaper.
Instead, I’m stuck with this ungrateful jerk.
“I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me,” I huff as I walk quickly to keep up with him. “What did I ever do to you that was so horrible?”
Maxon’s jaw clenches. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then what? You don’t like my Disney shirt?”
Maxon skids to a halt and looks me up and down. I suddenly regret drawing attention to my appearance, knowing I’m not looking my best. I’m wearing another Disney villains tee, black leggings with a hole on my inner right thigh, and my favorite red Chucks. My hair is a mess, I’ve got no makeup to speak of, and I know I’ve got giant bags under my eyes from a week of no sleep.
Team Hot Mess, here I come.
“We need to stop by the supply room and get you proper attire,” Maxon finally says, jerking his gaze away from me. “You’ll get a full wardrobe from Madam Benita in the morning, but you shouldn’t be wearing those clothes when you come down to breakfast.”
“Wardrobe?” I ask as we set off again. “You mean like a school uniform? Or some other stuff?” I eye his own outfit.
“Both.”
We turn a corner and go down an impossibly long hall. There are candles on the wall every few paces, casting a flickering, golden glow on the gray stone walls.
“This wing is the professors’ private study and sleeping quarters,” he says as we walk. “It’s separated from the rest of the academy by this walkway.” We stop at a large wooden door. “Students aren’t granted access in here unless it’s given.” He waves his hand over the door and the latch undoes itself. “One thing you should know about Reaper Academy is that when someone tells you not to attempt to go through a door or in a hall, listen. There are a lot of protective spells laid out in here, and crossing through a bespelled doorway can be very painful.”