Page 45 of Shadows of Perl

I sigh and shove them back under my mattress. Then I sit and wonder: What are you up to, Mother? Where are you? What did you think of this strange place? Of Beaulah’s secret circle? Her penchant for toushana?

Did it scare her? What will she think of me?

The more I think of my mom, about the last few months, and the room I’m now forced to stay in, the heavier everything feels. I try to picture her kind eyes and summon some memories of her voice. And in my mind I hear what she always used to say: There’s good in you, Quell. You’re going to be okay. I lie down and close my eyes, but the tenderness of those words is drowned out by the events of the evening.

At least for a few hours I won’t have to feel anything.

Thirteen

Jordan

Dinner still swims in my tummy. My father looms over me, his hand firmly on my shoulder, staring at the hunting grounds in front of us. My aunt signals to a small audience watching from the big house behind us. My brother stands in the window. When he sees me looking, he puts his palm on the glass.

“Over here, come along.” She leads me to a wooden platform between two others, where boys much bigger than me are guzzling down water and taping their wrists and ribs. My father follows, but Headmistress Perl stops him with a hand.

“You’ll make him nervous, Richard. Get back upstairs. It’s going to be a long night.”

My father’s lips thin as he departs, but my breath doesn’t come easier.

“Don’t worry about him,” my aunt says. “Just focus on the now.” She gestures to the thicket of trees, their tops glowing in the moonlight. “Master your focus, nephew. It is a weapon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” My hands shake in my pockets. She reaches in and grabs them. She holds them, and I try hard to be still.

“Everything that happens in the forest tonight is just making you into the person you were destined to be. Like the heroes in the stories. You get to be a warrior. Would you like that?” She pats my hand.

I can’t nod fast enough.

“This test is usually reserved for peers five or six grades above you. But you and Yagrin are in the family line: you should be able to handle it.”

I watch the other boys for confidence in their posture, some assurance that whatever we’re doing is going to be okay. But neither looks my way.

“Jordan, have you ever worked really hard to earn something but then lost it?” she goes on.

“Yes. A toy I’d earned from doing really well on my Latin lessons. But I haven’t been able to find it in a long time. I think my brother stole it.”

“And how does that make you feel?” she asks.

“Sad.”

“You are a bit angry with your brother about it, aren’t you?” She strokes my hair, and the gesture reminds me of my mother.

“I guess so.”

“It’s okay to be mad. Let yourself feel that. Use it to fuel your magic. That’s how the Order feels about magic. We’ve worked very hard to shepherd magic through the years so that it wouldn’t be lost. Our forefathers gave their lives to guard it. But there are people who would try to rob us of it or exploit it and control how we use it.”

Her eyes burn like a firestorm and I straighten. This is serious.

“Today’s test is like a game. A way to show us you can help protect what’s ours. That’s what your father does, what your grandpa did, what all Draguns do. Do you think you can do that?”

“I think so.”

She pinches my cheek, and I kind of hate it. But, I kind of don’t. “At the heart of the forest, near the old oak, you’ll find a bunch of things. One is an old family relic. Bring it—and only it—to me in one piece. You may use any magic that occurs to you freely; no one will stop you. You have until sunrise.”

A shiver finger-walks up my spine. That’s a long time to be out here alone.

“And one last thing.” The Headmistress checks her watch. “You will have to make choices along the way. But, Jordan, there are no perfect choices. Only ones that will help you retrieve the relic and those that will not. Choose properly.”

A howl splits the night air. “What’s out there?” I can’t stop fidgeting.

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