All That Lives Must Die

prematurely opened their examinations and were expelled.”

Fiona felt like she was going to faint or throw up. Had Miss Westin briefed everyone on other rules before she and Eliot got here? What if they made a mistake?

She caught a motion in the corner of her eye.

The boy on her left waved to her. He was cute, with brown curly hair to his shoulders, and expressive eyes. He flashed a smile, nodded reassuringly, and then turned his attention back to Miss Westin.

Those simple gestures eased her fear. Fiona wanted to thank the boy, but thought better of doing so while Miss Westin spoke.

Miss Westin produced a silver pocket watch and flipped it open. “We shall begin the examination in sixty-four seconds. You will have one hour twenty minutes-which is four minutes per page-to finish. Budget your time accordingly.”

One boy near the windows raised his hand. “If I break one of these marvelous writing implements?” he asked, brandishing a pencil.

Fiona recognized the Scottish accent. She squinted against the glare. Yes. . it took a second for her to be sure. . the blond hair, the roguish grin: it was Jeremy Covington, the boy she and Robert had found in the Valley of the New Year. He had escaped with them.

But the Valley was part of Purgatory. That meant Jeremy had been dead, didn’t it?

“You have two spares, Mr. Covington,” Miss Westin told him. “I suggest you break no more than three.”

“And if I need the little boys’ room, ma’am?” There was an undertone of smarm to his question.

Miss Westin stared him down. “Then I shall escort you myself to the urinal.”

Jeremy’s head dropped, and Fiona saw his ears redden.

“Hey,” Eliot whispered. “Good luck!”

You, too, she mouthed back.

Four other older students entered the room.

Miss Westin nodded to them as they took positions in the corners. Miss Westin then glanced at her watch. “Begin. . now.”

A hundred-some cardboard bands ripped, and a multitude of pages turned, sounding like a flock of birds taking wing.

The first section was on history. That should be a breeze. Fiona and Eliot had studied all of history from Earth’s formation to global warming.

There were questions on Egyptian pharaohs, the reasons for the American Civil War, and influences on the Industrial Revolution.

She answered them all-could have done it in her sleep.

She turned to the next page, and there was a list of events to be chronologically ordered: Sargon and the formation of the Akkadian Empire. . the discovery of the Americas. . the founding of Rome by Romulus and Remus. .

But Fiona froze when she got to, King Arthur dies/departs for Avalon.

The tales of King Arthur had been banned by Audrey. “Too many fairy tales and lies,” she had told them.

Fiona scrunched her lips in irritation. She marked this with a question mark and moved on. She’d have to come back later and figure it out.

The next section was on mathematics.

She blasted through geometry and algebra problems, and slowed only a little on the trigonometry.

Fiona thought this was going well, but she wished she had a watch.

She looked around but spotted no clock. She did see, however, that Miss Westin walked the aisles, and the four older student proctors watched everyone with hawklike intensity.

Fiona noticed that Eliot (now wearing his spectacles) was ahead on his test, scribbling away on some essay.

She was about to get back to her test when she saw a girl three rows over staring at her. The girl had acne and long brown hair that fell into her face. Fiona knew her. . but couldn’t quite recall from where or when.

She turned back to her test; Fiona didn’t want anyone to think she was cheating.

She focused on the next section: English.

Fiona knew all the great authors, their themes, styles, and techniques. In her comparative essay, she quoted Shakespeare and Shelley and Shaw from memory. She paused to admire her dramatic cursive handwriting before she flipped to the next section.

All her confidence drained as she read the heading: Magic-Theory, Engineering, and History.

Magic, legends, fairy tales, fantasy, and science fiction-all the things specifically forbidden in their household for the last fifteen years.

She took a deep breath, willed herself to stay calm.

The first question was, Name the four classical elements, and discuss Plato’s and Aristotle’s inclusion of the fifth element.

Five elements? There were more than one hundred elements: hydrogen, helium, carbon, nitrogen. . Were they talking about something else?

She wouldn’t panic. Not yet.

She skipped ahead to see if there were easier ones.

The next question was, Name seven mortal magical families. Compare and contrast. Bonus: Name three extinct families.

Mortal magical families? She knew there were Immortals, fallen angels. . but there were more collections of magical people?

The back of Fiona’s throat burned. She paged ahead.

There were questions on alchemy, divination, and necromancy.

How was she ever going to figure any of this out?

Next to her she heard pages rustle. She saw Eliot flip back and forth through this section as well — but then he stopped, and started scribbling.

He was guessing. Had to be.

It was just like Eliot to try something reckless when he didn’t know the answer.

But why not? Miss Westin hadn’t said it was forbidden.

Fiona set the tip of her pencil on the page, but couldn’t force herself to write. It felt like a lie.

Across the classroom, she heard whispers. She ignored these voices and flipped back to the history section and King Arthur. If she had to make a guess, she’d make an educated one.

The whispers, however, got louder. There was a tiny laugh.

She looked up and saw Jeremy Covington, eyes sparkling, talking to a redheaded girl next to him-both had their test booklets closed, pencils set neatly on top. They were done already!

Jeremy had been just as rude in Purgatory: trying to kiss Fiona when he hadn’t been invited to. She had a feeling he was going to be three times the trouble alive that he had been dead.

She couldn’t waste energy thinking about him. She had to-

“Time!” Miss Westin announced, and snapped her pocket watch shut. “Pencils up.”

Every student instantly complied.

Fiona was furious. She’d never not finished a test before.

She looked over to Eliot. He gave a little apologetic shrug, as if to say, What can you do?

There had to be something. She could claim extenuating circumstances-explain to Miss Westin about their weird mother and how they were brought up.

Miss Westin and the proctors moved to the head of each row. They picked up the test and graded them right in front of everyone-marking wrong answers with a red pen.

Miss Westin finished grading first and scrawled a large D on the front.

“Insufficient,” Miss Westin told the crestfallen boy. “We allow only those with the potential for excellence into Paxington, young man. You may leave.”