Page 23 of Kingmakers, Year Two

“We’re sleeping in abasement?”the girl sneers, crossing her arms disdainfully over her chest. Her long nails are filed into points, with silver rings on every finger.

“More of a cellar,” Saul says. He seems impervious to rudeness, or to any other emotion we might send in his direction. I get the feeling one of us could be struck with lightning right in front of him and he wouldn’t bat an eye. “We go in through here.”

We follow him inside a building much too small to house thirteen students. From the rusted empty racks on the walls and the pungent scent of fermented grapes, I think this used to be a wine cellar.

It’s not our final destination. Saul leads us toward a wide staircase descending even deeper into the earth, its dark opening gaping like a mouth.

I don’t like tight spaces. And I definitely don’t like the dark.

My heart is already hammering against my ribs before I even set foot on the stairs.

Even the sulky girl with the nose ring looks slightly unnerved as she falls into step beside me. Our footsteps echo on stone as we descend into the Undercroft.

I’m relieved to see warm light at the foot of the stairs. Even more relieved to see that the Undercroft is, at least, not cramped. The domed stone roof is almost twenty feet high, with thick supporting pillars running down the center of the space, forming a double set of archways.

The first portion of this long tunnel is a kind of common room, with couches, a bookshelf, and a large table with bench seats for studying. Further down, the space is divided into separate dorms.

“Two to a room,” Saul says. “Only the ones in the middle are empty, ‘cause the upperclassmen claimed everything close to the bathroom and the stairs.”

We walk down the hallway, cautious in the dim lamplight.

The double row of doors are identical, but it’s easy to tell which have been claimed, as their owners have decorated the scarred wood with stickers and patches. I notice that no one has put up a name tag. You wouldn’t be able to find a particular room without already knowing the patch on the door.

The bare doors in the center are the ones up for grabs.

There’s a flurry as the Freshmen Spies hustle inside their chosen spaces. It takes me a moment to realize that everyone has already paired off. I stand stupidly in the hallway until only me and the sulky pierced girl are left without roommates.

She stares at me with an expression of disgust even greater than when she learned we’d be rooming underground.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Her disdain hits me like a slap.

I know I shouldn’t care what she thinks of me, but I’ve never been able to ignore other people’s opinions.

Humiliating tears prick the corners of my eyes.

Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to cry in front of this girl.Not on the first day of school.

I squeeze my fists so hard that my nails bite into my palms.

“Tough break,” I say stiffly. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

The girl rolls her eyes and stomps into the nearest empty room.

Steeling my nerves, I follow her inside.

I expected it to look like a prison cell, but actually our dorm is neat and clean. The beds are low and narrow, rather pretty with headboards and footboards in carved dark wood. We each have our own dresser. The room smells of cedar, soapstone, and clean earth. No sense of damp or rot.

The only thing lacking is a window.

Two soft, golden lamps provide the only light, because we are indeed deep underground.

My new roommate looks around silently, appraising the space.

“I’m Catalina, by the way.” My voice sounds simultaneously timid and over-loud in the small, shared space. “My friends call me Cat.”

The other girl glares at me, like she wishes I would spontaneously combust.

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