Page 71 of Validus Vale Academy 1
That trip got me precisely nowhere. Worse than nowhere. Now I'm under the watchful gaze of Dean Crankshawe, a spotlight I absolutely donotneed.
The secrets of Validus Vale were not going to be sprung from the new dean, including why she had Theo's DNA results on her desk.
31
My second week at Validus Vale is less chaotic than the first.
Yes, I’m drowning in the advanced classes, but everything else is manageable. Plus, I’ve been meeting with Alexis early every morning.
He’d told me of his failed meeting with the dean, and also about the DNA analysis on her desk. “Any thoughts about what she’s looking for in your DNA?”
Gods. Had my telepathy been flagged in my genes? It’s the only thing unusual about me. I wasn’t ready to tell Alexis that, though. “Not a clue.”
“Then why don’t you email the WMO genetic testing center, ask for a copy of your results?” he’d suggested, so I’d done just that.
The response had come back quickly. A glitch in the mainframe had occurred, and some DNA results, including mine, had been erased. Retesting could be scheduled for next year—maybe. The WMO had a patented process for extracting magical DNA signatures, so it wasn’t as simple as visiting any ordinary clinic.
Just why was the dean after my DNA? Was that why I’d got the Guggenheimer? Fuck. The ever-present lab-rat threat echoes around my head.
On a cheerier note, the parkour is going great. I’d spent my whole life thinking I was physically crap, but this new training was giving me confidence in my body that is just amazing.
AndI’d not heard anything from Cosmo all week.
But I do hear from my new friend.
On Wednesday evening, Ludo knocks on my door.
—Theo?—
“Hey, come in.”
Ludo moves into the basement space and shuffles his feet. “What’s up?” I ask him. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look so uncomfortable. Almost reluctantly, he opens the bag he’s carrying and pulls out a small orange box.
“What? Boggle?”
—Found it in the old faculty lounge—
“Score!” I’m grinning like an idiot, but the thoughtful gesture is also making my eyes prickle with tears. “Fancy a game?” I ask him.
Ludo shrugs, then frowns.—Thought you might like it, to play with your friends—
As he looks at the floor my heart begins to race. Ludo is nearly always shrouded in a deep sadness and it breaks my heart. “Hey, you’re my friend,” I say softly. “And you’re who I want to hang out with playing Boggle.”
Slowly, he raises his head, then Ludo meets my eye. —Truly?—
“Truly.”
—Then I’d like to play—but how?—
I look around the basement. “First we need a table. You sort that; I’ll get pencils and paper.”
Within a few minutes, Ludo and I are sitting opposite each other, and all the rules have been explained. Ludo raises an eyebrow as I shake the box of letters enthusiastically, producing the classic obnoxious noise. “It’s tradition to give it a lot of welly,” I tell him
—Welly?”—
“British for gusto.” Putting one hand on the egg timer and the other still covering the letters, I give him a grin. “Ready?”
—Ready—
