The Golden Mask nodded. “Follow me.”
He followed the Golden Mask through a maze of empty corridors before arriving in a large room. A library, based on the endless shelves, filled to bursting with books. They walked through the entire length of it and into another smaller room. This room was similarly lined with shelves, but a quick glance around showed that every book was identical—bound in black leather and stitched with silver thread, each one bearing the numbers indicating a specific year. There were thousands of books, going back centuries, millennia.
At the center of the room was a desk, and at the desk sat a very old man. His hair grew to his shoulders and was the color of newly fallen snow. As they drew closer, Jamie saw the man’s skin was almost translucent with age, so thin that the veins in his hands were clearly visible beneath it. When the man looked up, his eyes were colorless as if time had bleached their color away.
“The Archivist,” the Golden Mask said. “The blood of every Gifted ever born is written into the Archive.”
“James Thiessen,” the Archivist said, his voice as thin and wispy as smoke rising from a smoldering fire. “Please place your hand on the table. Palm up.”
Jamie followed the instructions and sat before the Archivist, placing his hand on the table. Two Sentinels appeared beside the Archivist, insubstantial in appearance, but their grips were firm and solid as they held his hand. They twisted a dagger against his hand, making a small but deep cut. Blood started to drip from his hand, collected carefully by the Sentinels in a small metal inkwell.
One of the Sentinels dipped its finger into the inkwell and spread Jamie’s blood between its fingertips before briefly glowing. The Archivist gave a shallow nod and then dipped a pen into the inkwell, his hands trembling with age. With painful slowness, he started to flip through the pages of the book before him, running his finger down the list of names until he found Jamie’s name. With his pen filled with Jamie’s blood, he made a mark next to Jamie’s name and slammed the book closed.
“Welcome to Cleaner training, Mr. Thiessen,” the Golden Mask said.
* * *
Jamie was handed off to a group of normal, silver-masked Cleaners who led him through more corridors before finally arriving at a door. Opening the door, the Cleaners waved Jamie through. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door was closed behind him, and the sound of a key turning the lock floated through the air.
Three people were already in the room. At his arrival, they got to their feet. He knew them all.
Pete, still wearing the same dark gray suit and blue shirt he’d been wearing at his family’s New Year’s Day party.
Gemma, who he hadn’t seen since the end of the Elemental Trials. Her hair was now dyed purple rather than its previous shocking pink, but otherwise, she looked the same—tall, friendly, and just a little awkward.
Finally, there was Eva with her short red hair and sharp, feline green eyes.
The three of them represented Earth, Air, and Water—and with his Inferno Gift, they made up the full complement of all four Elements.
“I take it you all said yes?” Jamie asked sarcastically.
Eva shrugged. “A boring, unremarkable life didn’t sound particularly appealing.”
Jamie laughed and dropped into the seat next to her. “What are we in for exactly?”
But all three just shook their heads.
“Seriously?” Jamie asked. “No ideas whatsoever?”
Eva turned to Pete. “Your uncle Seb is involved with the Cleaners—hasn’t he ever said anything?”
Pete shook his head, looking scandalized. “Seb has nothing to do with the Cleaners. And even if he was, Seb would never betray his duty by letting any information slip.”
Eva rolled her eyes dramatically. “He sounds rigid and boring. I guess it must run in the family.”
Pete shot her a fake smile. “Thanks, Eva—always love your on-the-nose compliments.”
Gemma sighed. “We’re supposed to be a team. I don’t think it bodes particularly well for us that you two have been snapping at each other for the last hour.”
“No one asked you, Gemma,” Eva snapped. “We all know you’re only here because the Atmospheric they really wanted was unavailable.”
“Come on, Eva,” Jamie interjected, trying to smooth over the increasingly tense atmosphere. “That’s not necessary.”
Eva rolled her eyes again but kept quiet.
Gemma broke the ensuing silence with a deep sigh. “So…” she said, “speaking of Allyra—how is she?”
Jamie took a deep breath. “She’s in The Five Finals. With Jason as her partner. And forty-eight others who wouldn’t blink before killing her. Need I say more?”
Gemma grimaced and looked away—a strange reaction that made Jamie frown in confusion.
Pete provided the answer helpfully, his expression amused, as he said, “Gemma’s brother, François, is one of the forty-eight ruthless killers you just mentioned.”
Jamie swallowed thickly, aware that he had placed his foot squarely in his mouth.
“It’s fine,” Gemma said. “François is pretty heartless.”
“Okay, I know we’re all just fascinated with Allyra’s life,” Eva broke in, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice. “But can we get back to the matter at hand?”
“Which is what exactly?” Pete shot back.
“The fact we all agreed to be part of the Cleaners.”
“Yes, but we have no idea what they want us to do or even if they want us to do it together,” Pete replied. “We’re obviously locked in for the night, but there’s food here and four bedrooms. So, I would suggest that the best thing we can do right now is forget about what may come and just eat and have a good night’s sleep instead.”
“Seconded,” Jamie said. It sounded like the perfect suggestion, and he welcomed the
