Page 32 of The Art of Exiley

I’m still fixated on the peculiar feline. “How can they turn a cat blue?”

Georgie looks at me, brows arched. “They didn’tturnher blue. They probably bred her this way with Sire-based genetic alteration. But a blue cat is the least of what they can do here. If this surprises you… sheesh. Just wait until you meet the Valkyries. You’re going to freak out.” Georgie reaches into her pocket and pulls out a multi-tool just like Michael’s, except it’s pink and bejeweled. She flicks open a tool and aims a little pink laser dot at the wall. Bastet leaps off the couch trying to catch the light as Georgie keeps the laser bouncing around the room.

I consider asking her if unicorns are real but then chicken out because it feels too ridiculous to say out loud.

“I was given a lot more information than you before I came here,” Georgie says. “But don’t worry. I’ll help you out.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate. And being around someonefrom home allows me to breathe in a way that I haven’t felt comfortable doing all day.

I’m here, in this place where I can learn to use my abilities, at the same institute great minds like Ada Lovelace attended. I know I have a job to do for the Families, but, for a moment, I let myself imagine that I’m here just to learn from these people.

I can’t wait to start.

8

The next day is a kaleidoscope of newness. My morning starts at the infirmary, where a slender redhead with a slightly hunched back named Kaylie Botticelli gives me a host of inoculations. Kaylie’s a master of the Bioscience guild (amber hoop guildstone, I’m learning), and she’s kind and extremely patient with all my questions. She also gives me a diamond earring, which is apparently something all Sires wear. I’ve never owned anything so valuable in my life, and I keep checking to make sure I haven’t lost it yet.

The first class that I attend is Testaments, taught by Master Bose, who I met in the forest yesterday. The Testaments are the written records of the Makers, including the History Testaments (recorded Maker history), the Council Testaments (Maker laws), and the Testaments of the Prophets (recorded prophecies because, oh yeah, apparently prophecy exists, and being a Prophet is also a “perfectly normal genetic condition”). The class is currently studying the prophecies of a woman named Psalm, as well as those of her daughter, Chorus, the last known Prophet, who I have not failed to notice has the same name as whoever Michael and the headmaster were discussing yesterday.

I recognize that all the Testaments are full of information that will be useful for the Families, but it seems irrelevant for helping Grandfather, so I’m eager to move on to my next class, which could make all the difference.

Ha’i class is specifically for apprentice Sires to master control of their Ha’i—crucial information for the Families and for me. The sooner I learn how to use my Ha’i, the sooner I can learn how to use it to heal.

The class is in a candlelit room with a grass floor and a man in the corner playing a combination of lyre and singing bowls. The instructor, Master Liu, is a graceful older woman with her hair in a long silver braid who guides everyone through various meditations using movements reminiscent of tai chi.

My head spins with the knowledge that everyone in the room must have abilities like mine. I have never met another person that I knew to share my condition, and my heart seems to pound with the excitement of no longer being alone. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, listening to the echoes of the singing bowls and feeling the grass beneath my feet. But the wonder of it all doesn’t quite subdue my frustration at how impractical these slow movements feel when I just want to learn how to use my abilities quickly.

Master Liu has me practice a hand configuration called “shiin,” which is ideal for conducting Ha’i. Shiin is made by squeezing the middle, ring, and pinkie fingers together, with the pointer and thumb stretched wide, so that the hand forms the shape of a lopsided W. When I make shiin, I feel Ha’i course through me and warm the skin connecting my thumb and pointer fingers in the same spot as my crescent scar. But while I can feel its warmth, I can’t seem to manipulate the Ha’i the way the other apprentices can.

I watch the young apprentices around me ignite candle flames, create glowing balls of light, and sprout plants from the earthy floor. It’s amazing, and I’m not convinced I’ll ever be able to do any of it. I’m still not sure Michael didn’t make a mistake about me being a Sire and that my quirksare not a symptom of something else entirely. My feelings of incompetence spike as I repeatedly make a silly hand gesture with no visible result.

“Do not rush learning the language of your Ha’i,” Master Liu reassures me. “Focus on finding the well within yourself.”

But I have to rush. My time here is limited, and my grandfather is sick. I close my eyes, pretending to focus on this stupid well within, but really I’m just holding back tears of frustration.

After Ha’i class, one of my classmates approaches me. She’s maybe thirteen or fourteen and definitely going through her awkward phase, with white-blond hair in a crooked braid and large hazel eyes that seem too big for her slim, pale face.

“Hi. I’m Hypatia, and I’m new here too,” she says. “Is it true that you’re from New York?”

When I nod, she looks positively gleeful. “I’ve never met someone from the provincial world before! I havesomany questions.” As she talks fast, her words slur with a slight lisp, which I find adorable. “Are there really whole islands made of garbage?”

“Uh, I think I’ve heard about something like that forming by accident in the ocean.”

But by the time I have the words out, Hypatia has already moved on. “The other apprentices have lots of questions too, but they’re too intimidated to ask.”

I am quite sure that I’m more intimidated by them. I ask, “They don’t think it’s weird that I’m so much older than everyone else?”

“I doubt that. At Genesis they’re much more used to recruits than at Avant. That’s where I’m from.”

“That’s a relief. I feel pretty incompetent.”

“Well, I’d be happy to help you. I’m highly competent,” Hypatia says as she lifts her hand, and without even making shiin, lets loose a string of sparks.

My eyes widen with appreciation. “It’s beautiful.” I reach out and try to catch the fading light. “What is it exactly?”

“Ha’i?” She shrugs. “Life force. Creative energy.”

“Yeah, sure, but what does that actually mean? Everyone has ‘life force,’ so what’s different about a Sire?” Maybe if I can understand this more tangibly, I’ll be able to conduct on demand.

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