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SIMON SAT NUMBLY AT his desk, staring out the open window.
The school was quiet, even though there was still a day left until the end of term. The sun-swept lawns and towering trees rustled impatiently in the breeze, as if asking the obvious question.
Where is everybody?
For his part, Simon was not surprised by the quiet. Not surprised that the cheerful Guilder halls had been replaced with a ringing silence. By now he was almost used to it. It had been quiet for a long time.
A bell rang somewhere off in the distance, and Simon glanced wearily at his clock. Was it time for morning classes already? It felt like he had just turned in for the night. With his old routine so uprooted by the absence of players, it was getting hard to keep track.
With a muffled sigh he pushed to his feet, slung his bag over his shoulder, and trudged down the quiet third-story hallway to the busier floors beneath.
“Hey Simon!”
“Morning!”
He was greeted several times as he passed the younger students, but despite their friendly persistence he made no attempt to acknowledge any one of them. To be fair, at this point they hardly expected him to.
Simon didn’t talk much these days. He had made it a habit to sit back during the weekly HOC meetings and partake only as a silent observer—forcing Jacob to take the reins instead. When Jacob, too, vanished from school one day, the meetings stopped altogether.
In Simon’s defense, it was getting harder and harder to find anyone to talk to these days.
After the kiss in the Oratory, he and Beth had kept a careful distance between themselves, communicating only through Jennifer. And then, only when Jennifer felt like translating. Jason hadn’t turned him in, but had apparently decided to resolutely ignore him until they were both long dead. And back at school, the table in the cafeteria had been growing steadily emptier as the days, then weeks, marched on. Tristan was only just the first.
After his departure came Isaac. Followed shortly after by Eli, then Zane. Rob and another boy named Caleb were soon to follow. Then Arturo, then Andrew James Carter. When Jacob disappeared just the other week, Simon found himself for the first time in a long time sitting alone.
He couldn’t resent them for it, not the students themselves. They had been offered the opportunity to become world-class spies. Who in their right mind would turn down that offer?
It was the Council itself that he resented.
The ones who saw fit to shape young people’s lives at the drop of a hat. Acting as supreme and unnatural overlords. Selecting some, abandoning others.
Yes, although Simon did indeed feel abandoned, he didn’t resent it. He merely felt confused.
All the boys who had been recruited had been so because of one thing: their ink. Simon happened to have one thing in common with every single kid who was taken: their ink.
Why the hell would the PC have selected someone like Eli, and not someone like Simon? An escape artist was a good commodity to have, but Simon could be that. He could be that, and also be a leopard, and also be a fox, and also be whatever the hell else they wanted if they would just tap him on the shoulder, too, and let him come along!
He took a deep breath to steady himself, making his way down the deserted halls.
The only one he did resent was Tristan. And he resented him hard.
They had spent months talking about the day when they would both be recruited to join the Privy Council. Endless hours speculating as to every pointless detail. The different things they might get to do first. The different missions they’d be sent on.
Together. The key word being together.
And now? Not a word. Not a letter. Not even a freaking postcard.
It was like Tristan had vanished off the face of the earth. Like when he left Guilder, he forgot about everyone left inside, leaving the past behind him as he set out to embark upon his fantastic new life.
Alone. The key word being alone.
Simon pushed open the door to Professor Vector’s class with another sigh. Sometimes it felt like he was just a ghost pacing the same circles in the same halls, just killing time.
A derisive snort rose up in his throat as he took a seat in the back. Why did he even bother coming anymore? There were only five people left in the class.
“Today,” the professor began cheerfully, “we’ll be reviewing the material we have studied thus far. Doing a basic overview before you turn in your final papers to receive your grade. I know it’s a bit earlier than usual this morning, but I will still expect—”
“What’s the point?” Simon asked loudly. The remaining students swiveled around in their chairs and Professor Vector’s jaw dropped open in surprise. Simon was too depressed to care.
“I’m...I’m sorry, Mr. Kerrigan?”
Simon got slowly to his feet, feeling as though he wanted to rip the little man in half, just to change up his routine. Just for the pleasure of watching someone else hurt, too.
“I said...what’s the freakin’ point?” He lifted his hands and sarcastically gestured around. “The school year’s over. We’ve already taken the final. We have our papers with us in our bags. Why don’t you just let us turn in the damn things and be done with it?! Why the dog and pony show?!”
Professor Vector’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “Why, you little...sit down, Mr. Kerrigan! Sit down before I have you thrown out of this school!”
Simon stayed standing, cocking his head tauntingly to the side. “What—a day early? I ask you again, oh wizened professor: what is the freakin’ point?!”
If the room was tense before, it was almost unbearable now. Well aware of Simon’s reputation for trouble, the students still sitting in the room were glancing at the door like they didn’t think they wanted to be there for what might happen next. Likewise, Professor Vector was wavering like he was on unsure ground. If a direct threat didn’t work on a student, he wasn’t sure exactly what else to try. It wasn’t like he could physically force Simon to do anything.
Simon watched as the professor weighed the options of how to treat his disruption. He grinned suddenly before hiding it with a stern look. He threatened to call in a reinforcement that Simon would actually respect. “Unless you want me to get Mr. Archer in here, I suggest you take a—”
“Really?” Simon threw back his head with a loud, unnerving laugh. “That’s the best you’ve got? You’re going to rat me out to Jason? You think, for one second, I believe he would come down here and—”
“And what, Simon?”
It was like all the air got sucked out of the room. Simon cut off mid-sentence and turned towards the door, the taunting words suddenly sticking in his throat.
Sure enough, there was Jason. Leaning quietly against the doorway. Watching the scene unfold with dangerous, indecipherable eyes.
“How did...” Simon stuttered, unable to piece together how the hell Jason could have possibly found out what was going on, and how he’d gotten there so quick. “How did you...”
“Let’s take a walk, Simon.”
Feeling like he’d been slapped in the face, Simon reached down robotically and picked up his book bag. He slung it over his shoulder and walked to his Botcher without a second thought, head spinning so much he was completely unaware of anything else going on around him.
He was already halfway out the door, when he realized that Jason had yet to move.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Jason’s glare shimmered with malice, and his voice sliced the air between them like a knife.
With a heavy heart, Simon turned back to Professor Vector. He could barely meet his eyes. “My apologies, Professor.”
“Louder, Simon,” Jason snapped.
Simon took a deep breath, forcing himself to lift his eyes. “I apologize, Professor, truly. I promise it will never happen again.”
Vector nodded curtly, but to be honest he just looked relieved that Jason had magically shown up to take Simon away.
As the two of them headed down the hall the rest of the class peered after them from the doorway, like a child would look at a wild beast.
Curious, yes. But also afraid.
* * *
NEITHER SIMON NOR JASON spoke the entire way to the Oratory. The doorway was open, and Simon could see Beth and Jennifer already practicing inside. Beth looked up in alarm as he got closer. She knew he had his final day’s worth of classes this morning, and had no idea why she’d be seeing him so soon. Judging by the look on his and Jason’s faces, it clearly wasn’t anything good.
However, as it turned out, they weren’t headed to the Oratory after all. Jason walked him right past it and marched instead towards the parking lot on the other side of campus. There was a hitch in Simon’s step, but he followed obediently along.
Had he finally crossed the line so far that there was no coming back? Was Jason going to simply drive him out past the gates of Guilder and leave him there? Knowing Jason, he would take care to hit him first with the car...
“Get in,” Jason instructed as he unlocked the doors.
Simon did as he was told. Still too worried to say anything. Still too indifferent to care. His eyes flickered up through the windshield at the quiet campus, wondering if it was to be the last time he would see it so close. A vague part of him wondered what would happen to his things.
Jason locked the doors behind them, but didn’t start up the engine. In fact, he tossed the keys up onto the dashboard with a quiet sigh. “What are you doing, Simon?”
It was the ultimate question, wasn’t it? The same question that Simon had been asking himself with increasing frequency over the last few weeks.
What am I doing? What am I still doing here?
“I don’t know,” he mumbled childishly, staring at his hands.
Jason flashed him a sharp look, but said nothing. Using the silence to force a better answer.
After a couple seconds of it, Simon sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m going to this school if there’s nothing in it for me afterwards. I don’t know why every single other person in my class was recruited by the Privy Council and not me. Why Tristan—”
He forced himself to stop. He couldn’t say these things aloud. He could hardly think them.
Jason was quiet for a moment, before he twisted around to stare at Simon face to face. His piercing amber eyes flashed in the noontime sun as he shook his head slowly back and forth.
“Really?” It was amazing how all the sarcasm in the world could fit so neatly into one little word. “You really don’t know what you’re still doing here? Why you got left behind at Guilder. Why everyone else was recruited by the Privy Council except you.”
They locked eyes and a look of genuine regret crossed his teacher’s face.
“I warned you, Simon,” he murmured. “I warned you so many times.”
A rush of unwelcome tears sprang up in Simon’s eyes and he glared them back, fixing his gaze on the steering wheel so he wouldn’t have to face the disappointment of being a disappointment head-on. Instead, he tried uselessly to defend himself. “I’ve got more talent than—”
Then Jason started yelling, truly yelling. Ticking things off on his fingers, one by one.
“Breaks curfew! Refuses to attend class! Forms a secret society to challenge the PC! Corrupts other students! Acts out in class! Calls out the faculty! Just today, practically threatens a teacher with physical violence!”
His voice rose dramatically, before dropping suddenly at the very end.
“Kisses an inked girl right there on the Oratory floor.”
There was a deflated sort of hush between them now. Like everything that had been keeping the two of them propped up had suddenly melted away.
“And you don’t know why you weren’t recruited like the rest of them?” Jason leaned back against his headrest with a quiet sigh. “Is it really that much of a wonder, Simon?”
A wretched sob rose up in the back of Simon’s throat, and he swallowed it back down.
No. No, it was not a wonder. It wasn’t a wonder at all.
An unexpected wave of remorse crashed over him, and he bowed his head to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry you wasted so much time on me.”
Jason looked over in surprise as a very peculiar emotion shadowed across his eyes. Even once it had cleared, the essence remained. A strange, belated sort of regret. One that had very little to do with anything they were talking about now. “It wasn’t wasted time,” he finally answered. “It’s only wasted if you say it is.”
Simon looked over in confusion, trying hard to follow. “I don’t know what that means—”
“Would you come back to Guilder next year?” Jason asked suddenly. “Another year of classes. Another year of training. Would you try again next year for recruitment?”
A heavy sort of cloud seemed to settle over Simon as he considered it.
His first thought was to reject the notion outright. No. No, he would absolutely not wait around for another year to be offered a job by an institution he didn’t even respect. If they wouldn’t let him in so he could change it from the inside, he’d just have to start working from the outside instead. He’d start his own version of the Council. One with rules that made sense. One where he was the man in charge.
But just as quickly as he’d shut the idea down, a small glimmer of hope penetrated the fog. A ray of light fighting through the darkness.
“Yes,” he found himself saying. “Yes, I would come back next year to try again.”
An odd sort of triumph gleamed in Jason’s eyes, and he nodded slowly.
“This means that much to you? You’d commit yourself to try again?”
This time Simon didn’t have to think. He knew the answer. It was, as always, right on the tip of his tongue. “Yes, I would.”
A hint of that old sparkle danced across Jason’s face as he offered Simon a genuine smile.
“In that case...you’d better follow me.”
Simon sat stunned a moment, watching Jason lean forward to grab his keys, get out of the car, and start walking without looking to see if Simon followed. Blinking back to life Simon scrambled out of the car, slammed the door, and raced after his mentor.
The walk back into the Oratory was full of more surprises than Simon could keep track of.
He was surprised he wasn’t being instantly expelled for challenging a teacher. Surprised he was being allowed back on campus. Surprised the Oratory had a set of secret doors built into the walls. Doors that led to secret tunnels. Tunnels that sent shivers running up his spine as he followed Jason into the dark.
He was surprised that Jason had seemingly forgiven him. And he was surprised that his Botcher actually seemed a bit nervous as they came to a stop in front of a rusted set of doors.
But by far, the biggest surprise yet was waiting for him right inside.
“Tris?”
Tristan turned around with a wide smile, and got to his feet. He was flanked on one side by Francis Wainwright, the head of PC recruitment, and on the other by Royce Masters himself. By the time Simon’s eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting Jason had crossed inside to stand beside them as well.
But strangely enough, even amidst all of those powerful figureheads, it was Tristan who was permitted to do all the talking. His blue eyes twinkled with adventures still to come as he cocked his head to the empty chair beside his.
“What do you say, bud? You ready to go out and save the world?”
