“Yes, perhaps a joke of some kind.” Nathan took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the edge of his polo shirt before putting them back on. “Let’s just hope they don’t let off an eggy stench or start exploding. We had to close the East Wing once, after a student decided to unleash a cloud of gas that made people talk in high-pitched squeaks for an hour. Seeing Ingram try to keep his class together during that debacle… I’ll never forget it.” He chuckled to himself, and Genie joined in. Man, did he seem pleased about that.
“It’s always the East Wing,” Charlotte muttered before weaving through the group to lead the way back. “Anyway, we need to get moving.”
Genie grinned at her. “Where to next?”
Next to her, Charlotte paused. “Wherever you like. Once I take you back to the entrance hall, the orientation is over.” Her ghost of a smile had gone. “But you should keep up this time. Don’t want to be getting lost.”
It was hard to tell if she was concerned or sarcastic. I just hoped she thought we’d been sidetracked back there, by looking at the glowing lights and not by something else—AKA, my mental state. I hadn’t Purged, after all, so it really didn’t need to be talked about. Just some first-day jitters, leading to an all-out panic attack. Nothing too serious… Well, not as serious as a hydra or something worse, like a bahamut or a dragon, loose in the corridors. Who knew what I was capable of Purging?
“No problem.” Genie sounded a touch hurt by the cool response. As the old adage went, never meet your heroes. I guessed Charlotte wasn’t quite what Genie had hoped for. For my part, I wasn’t overly impressed by her general attitude. She might’ve been a talented hunter, but she behaved so coldly to people. I thought it was odd, too, that she hadn’t seemed particularly warm toward her mom and aunt when they were on stage together.
Charlotte turned her attention to me. “I hope there wasn’t an issue?”
“Not at all,” I replied, a beat too quickly.
“Good. I don’t like cleaning up messes.” Charlotte strode on, her frostiness leaving me a little stunned. If she had any idea how painful and taxing multiple Purges could be—on top of not knowing when they’d strike—I’ll bet she would’ve shown more understanding.
Genie gave me a reassuring jiggle. “Ignore her.”
“I plan to,” I mumbled. The rosy sheen had well and truly worn off of Charlotte, judging by Genie’s clipped tone.
No one has any idea what this is like. Becoming a hunter would be the challenge of a lifetime, made all the more difficult by my unique, one-of-a-kind power. I had a lot to learn, and, honestly, I felt like those builders, speeding toward a deadline—if I didn’t figure out how to capture my Purges fast, then there would be messes that I couldn’t clean up. But I’d come to the Institute to prove to myself, and to everyone else, that I was capable. I wouldn’t let Charlotte knock down my confidence before I’d even started.
“I don’t care how many monsters she’s caught, I bet you’ve seen things she’s only heard of in books.” Genie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Soon enough, you’ll have a grip on this catching thing, and you’ll probably end up with a list of captures longer than anyone in the history of the Institute. Rarer and cooler, too.”
“Maybe. Right now, I’d be happy to just catch one.” We walked along with the rest of the group, though we hung back to bring up the rear. “But thanks for the ego boost.”
As much as I liked to think I could’ve done this alone, I was grateful to have my stubborn friend there with me. After all, I’d almost blacked out from the mere threat of an oncoming Purge. Without her, I’d be on the ground somewhere, willing the overwhelming anxiety away. But, like I’d sworn to my mom, I wouldn’t get in the habit of relying on someone else. I needed to learn to control my emotions and my creations. They were the lynchpin to this whole Purge thing, and it was better to take the bullets out of the gun than to fire at a bulletproof vest.
Five
Persie
Evening snuck up on Galway like a child playing a trick, chasing the sun down to the horizon. I sat by the window and let the vivid colors wash over my face, my fingertips eager for paint and canvas, both of which were still waiting to be sent over from the SDC. So, I let my eyes be the artist, picking out the tones and marveling at each: the bursts of oxblood fading into tawny orange, deep notes of plum foreshadowing the oncoming night, and the residue of daylight hiding in notes of citrine and yellow ochre. San Diego had some stunning sunsets, but this was otherworldly, as though Galway itself were ablaze.
The nights in Ireland were proving to be the hardest. I’d never realized how loud my family home was until I wasn’t there anymore. The familiar tread of my mom’s footsteps in the hall, the sound of doors opening and closing, the rush of the faucet in the bathroom, the murmur of my parents talking before bed.
Louisa May Alcott’s words came to mind as I watched the sunset an ocean away from my mom. Mothers can forgive anything! she wrote. Tell me all, and be sure that I will never let you go, though the whole world should turn from you. Mom was the one I usually spoke to about my dreams, and I worried about what dreams awaited me once I slipped into my
