A piercing, peppy voice shattered my sleep. “Rise and shine, recruits!”

  A stab of bright light cut across my face, and I rolled away with a groan, nearly tumbling off the bed. My eyes adjusted to see a group of upperclassmen bustling through the dorm room, flipping open shutters to let fresh air in, and tapping crystal lanterns, adding more light to the room.

  Across the room, Mel’s voice rose in immediate fury. “Get your damn hands off me!” She nearly slugged a heavyset boy who tried to shake her awake. He yelped and ran to cower behind a tall, long-legged girl who gave Mel an annoyed glare.

  Rubbing the morning crust from my eyes, I slid out of bed. A fresh wave of relief coursed through me: no more backaches. Being in a younger, healthier body was great. I looked around and realized we were still missing our injured friend. Neither Laska nor Al nor Hopsander were present either.

  “Where’s Silas?” I asked the short, pink-haired girl heading up the wake-up squad. She looked even younger than me, but her official uniform and confident stride suggested she was a class president or leader of sorts.

  She tapped her chin, spinning in a small circle. “Oh, the one-armed kid? He’s in the academy infirmary still. But don’t worry! The nurse will have him patched up in no time!” Her high-pitched voice scratched at my ears, but I forced a polite nod.

  “Thank you . . . um, Miss—?”

  “Oooh, I like a polite one!” She pointed at me and giggled, then winked at a muscular older student leaning in the doorway. “I’m Piqah, the current leader of House Nin. But no time for introductions. We’re late. Get ready for your day, newbies. Into the showers, now!” She pressed a hand to her nose. “You reek.”

  The tall boy in the doorway let out a grunt. “Piqah, we’re behind schedule. They need uniforms and to get to orientation, not showers.”

  She fluttered her fingers at him. “Yes, yes, calm down, pookie, they will be quick, won’t you all?” Piqah cocked her head and ushered us toward the corridor without waiting for our response. “Move along, recruits!”

  Stifling a laugh, I asked the big upperclassman, “So your name’s Pookie?”

  He spun around, towering over me with an intense scowl. “Don’t. Even. Start.” His deep voice made me raise my hands in mock surrender.

  Piqah’s airy laugh echoed. “Yes, yes. To me he’s pookie, to you he’s Barrett. Don’t tease him—but if you do, don’t worry, he’s all bark.”

  Barrett’s face turned bright red, and he walked fast to the front of the group to avoid any further embarrassment from who I assumed was his girlfriend or someone close to him.

  Waiting for us after our showers were neat stacks of crisp black uniforms with gold trim. Each set included a snug jacket, pants, and undergarments—a welcome upgrade from the sweaty rags we traveled in. Slipping into that uniform, I felt renewed confidence. I glimpsed my reflection in a polished steel mirror to fully appreciate the clothes. The gold stitching felt regal, the cuffs were carefully stitched with intricate designs, and my collar was held firmly in place, lending a dignified air I’d never had before. My posture straightened unconsciously.

  ‘Wow, we look good. I’ve never had clothes like this. It was always Lotrick who got the nice pieces,’ Fern said.

  I gave a smile. Things are looking up a little, but we need to stay focused. We survived the journey, but now we must shift our attention to getting stronger. Let’s not assume everything will be easy just because we got one good night of sleep and some new clothes, I warned.

  Fern gave an invisible nod of agreement that felt like a small string pulling at the back of my head. He was already used to not getting his hopes up, so my reminder helped him stay grounded. Or at least I hoped.

  The rest of our group had their own private moments with their new uniforms. Mel tried some shadowboxing, ensuring it wouldn’t hamper her movement. Lucius painstakingly aligned every button and seam in front of a mirror, muttering something about “proper standards.” Rinka fiddled with Sora’s sleeves, helping her sister settle into the jacket, and Zenobia teased Tevin for splitting a seam. Barrett, the bulky upperclassman, rolled his eyes and fetched a larger size for Tevin.

  “Not bad,” Mel finally grunted, nodding at her reflection. “Beats the rags I used to wear.”

  “Everyone looks pretty cool, huh?” I said with a broad grin, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. I was given a few glances, some shrugs, and . . . silence. I sighed.

  So much for group camaraderie.

  We followed Barrett and Piqah out into the academy’s corridors. My eyes scanned the towering arches, tapestries, and murals of old heroes fighting legendary beasts. The winding corridor eventually opened to other paths, and crowds of new recruits converged from different rooms, all wearing the same black-and-gold uniform. Everyone was quiet. Everyone was nervous.

  We formed a river of black and gold that spilled into a new room that I could only describe as a grand hall. As we entered, I inhaled sharply. The room resembled a vast amphitheater of polished stone. Rows of benches in an arc faced a broad stage. Above, stained glass windows glowed from hidden internal light.

  My group slid into one row of benches. From somewhere behind me, Piqah gave a wiggly-fingered wave and a “Hope you find a good house!” before bounding off. Barrett gave a curt nod and followed her. The overhead crystals dimmed in the hush of anticipation, and a spotlight flared onto the stage.

  For a mercenary training facility, they sure have done a lot of artistic work here, I thought, admiring the entire design behind the room.

  A tall man in a dignified black robe stepped forward, arms crossed. His intense gaze swept the hall, and a hush fell.

  “Welcome, recruits,” he said, voice reverberating. “I am Headmaster Thorn. Today is orientation, and today, your new life here begins. Know this: The path you tread is perilous. Many perish on this journey. Many give up. Many say it’s impossible to change the world as a voidblood. But, if you remain dedicated, and if you truly believe in our cause, you will grow. If you follow our guidance and dig deep inside you, you will learn. If you commit to your physical and soul development, you will unlock a new future, where you know you can change anything. Yes, even the world.”

  My pulse quickened. I sensed heads shifting around me. The air felt tense, as if history weighed on us.

  Headmaster Thorn continued, “Here, we forge voidbloods into something greater—beyond any monarchy’s scorn. Yet it demands sacrifice. If you aren’t prepared for mortal danger, you can walk away now. We won’t stop you. You can serve this academy by working in the town of Ash under our protection, never having to pick up a weapon or be forced to fight the wars of the king. But if you stay, you vow to face death head-on.” The hall was quiet as Headmaster Thorn made his speech. The fact that we could just drop out and go live a quiet life on a farm outside was appealing. But power was what I needed.

  The headmaster lowered his voice into a dramatic hush. “We stand on the scales of balance. One side is at war with the prejudices of our world, and the other is playing the rules of the game the magebloods made. I say though, know this. We will not be slaves forever. We have a destiny we, and those Cinders who came before us, have created. We have moved in secret, forging the unlikeliest into legends. Will you join us?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  A hush. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of recruits glanced at each other. Then small groups rose from the benches, heads low. They quietly filed out, pulling off their newly issued jackets and dumping them in a forlorn pile. My throat tightened, but I understood that not everyone wanted to risk their life further. We’d been battered and bruised just to reach this place.

  When the last footsteps died away and the doors slammed shut, Headmaster Thorn nodded. “So, about a hundred remain. Good.” His eyes glinted and seemed to almost glow white. “Now, there’s one tiny task we need you all to do: a blood oath that cements your place in this academy.” Whispers broke out like dropped glass among the recruits while the headmaster spoke up in reaction to the gasps. “If you cannot commit your blood, you have no place in the Cinders’deeper mysteries and you will leave now. Blood is the one thing that binds us together. We cannot use magic like them, but we can grow together from the same place. Your blood will determine your house, which determines who you will bond with in your first year. You have a choice to make; now make it.”

  At his gesture, upperclassmen rolled in small troughs behind each bench row, distributing black-bladed daggers wrapped in cloth. I swallowed hard. The next step was obvious. Then I heard mumbling and shuffling behind me. I turned and saw Silas was making his way up through the crowd. He got next to me and let out a sigh.

  “Finally,” he said.

  “Dude! You’re up and moving,” I whispered to him. I looked at his right arm. “That was fast . . . Is that a . . .”

  “Oh, you noticed?” Silas smiled, watching me eye his new replacement. He held up his right arm and showed me a new, fully mechanical prosthetic from his elbow down. It was made of black and bronze-like metal. Through the crack between his mechanical joints, I saw gears moving, and between those, I saw a small, glowing crystal-like ball. He moved his new metal fingers with ease, showcasing his mechanical flexibility.

  “That’s insane!” I whispered to him, slapping Tevin next to me to show him Silas’s new arm.

  Tevin looked impressed and nudged Zenobia next to him. She leaned over and smiled, nodding her head at the mechanical attachment.

  Silas blushed as the rest of our group and others around us strained their necks to see his new prosthetic. I was shocked that they could make something like this here, and so quickly too.

  I noticed the upperclassmen approach our row. “Uh, Silas? You sort of missed the headmaster’s offer. He was saying you could go work in the town instead of fighting and being a Cinder.”

  “Wait . . . we can what exactly? What did you say—?” Silas was cut off when an upperclassman nudged his shoulder and handed him the wrapped object. He turned back to me, confused, and I just shrugged.

  “Cut the top of your left forearm,” Thorn instructed. “Bleed into the trough. Let your essence mingle with that of your new siblings. This is your last chance to leave. Submit your blood or depart.” The headmaster signaled an upperclassman, who began to slowly beat a drum that echoed across the grand hall.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

  I looked over at Silas, who swallowed and then shook his head. My gut churned, remembering all the times we risked life and limb on the way here. But compared to losing an arm, a small cut was trivial. My eyes flicked toward Tevin, who squeezed the hilt of his dagger uncertainly. Mel, by contrast, had already slashed her forearm with a feral grin, letting droplets of blood spatter into the trough. She hissed at the sting but stood tall.

  Here goes nothing.

  I pressed the black dagger against my forearm and sliced. The sting flared, and hot blood dripped down into the metal trough. My heartbeat thundered. So many times, we’d nearly died, but this self-inflicted wound felt weirdly nerve-racking.

  “Augh!” Tevin yelped, and I heard Sora squeak in pain. Her sister cursed softly as she did the same.

  I stood still, forcing myself not to panic. I took slow breaths in my nose and out my mouth as blood trickled into the trough. Eventually, the pained whines of the recruits died down, and Thorn signaled the aide to stop banging the ceremonial drum.

  He resumed, “Your blood is now sealed in a special capsule below the floor. It remains as proof of your vow. Next, your house assignment. The academy harnesses energies from Baldred’s Pillar to read your blood’s resonance—your synergy with each house’s ideals. Watch the floor.”

  Below my boots, faint blue runic light blossomed. A swirl of symbols began to form words.

  HOUSE ANU

  “House Anu.” I blinked in surprise, casting my gaze at the rest of my group—some were assigned House Anu, others House Enlil, or House Nin. My heart sank. We weren’t all in the same house.

  I guess that’s to be expected but . . . still, we kind of bonded, right?

  ‘If you call running from goblins bonding, then yes,’ Fern said.

  “Hey! House Anu too? We are in the same one,” Silas said excitedly. He slapped my arm and gave me a metal thumbs-up. Tevin, Mel, and Sora were all in House Anu as well.

  A wave of relief washed over me. I was at least paired with some of the kids I already knew. I may have been an adult in a teen’s body, but I still had social anxiety.

  Wait—does that mean the twins got separated? I thought.

  Indeed, as I glimpsed the floor, Rinka’s runes for House Enlil glowed under her feet while Sora’s read House Anu. The sisters exchanged painful glances.

  Ruriel and Zenobia both had their runes spell out House Nin.

  “Good, we are done. There should be about thirty recruits for each house,” Thorn said. “Each of you, proceed to meet your house leaders. They’ll handle your dorm placement and introduction. Physical training starts tomorrow, so get some rest.”

  His arms rose. “Welcome to the Academy of Ash. Ignite your spirit and transmute the mundane into the divine.”

  The tension broke as recruits rushed to find their house group. The twins gave a sad goodbye, as did Tevin and Zenobia.

  I guess they knew each other before? I wondered, watching the big teen give a bear hug to the short, curly-haired girl.

  About thirty recruits gathered around the House Anu upperclassmen. I scrambled over and stood next to Mel, with Silas, Sora, and Tevin coming up behind me. A mysterious black-haired girl stared at us as we approached. She was a recruit judging by the fresh bandage she had on her left forearm. Her eyes were a golden brown, almost orange, and she stared at us suspiciously. The girl moved around to the other side of the group away from us.

  “House Anu, gather round!” a lively voice shouted from a box near the stage. Waelid, the scimitar-wielding upperclassman who rescued us from the Guardian, waved an arm. “Welcome to the best house! I’m Waelid, your fearless leader. Let’s do intros back at the dorm. The ‘House of Truth’ awaits you.”

  We made our way through the crowd, following Waelid out of the grand hall. Al, Hopsander, and Laska hovered at the edge of the room as if they were waiting for us.

  Al teased, “Nice to see you five ended up in the same place. Sorry about you and your sister, little one,” he said to Sora.

  The silver-haired girl rubbed her neck with tears forming in her eyes. “Mr. Al, why did we get separated? We are twins, we should be together always. What am I going to do?”

  Laska, arms folded, gave a faint smirk. “You’ll learn to stand up on your own two feet.”

  “Yeah, stop being such a baby,” Mel said, slapping Sora’s arm.

  A second older student gestured for us to move. “Let’s go. House Anu is the farthest dorm away, and we don’t want to keep Ol’ Mumm waiting.”

  We trailed behind Waelid, pushing through crowds of other houses heading in different directions. Some upperclassmen greeted us warmly, others with bored disinterest. Eventually, we exited the massive complex under the pillar and stepped into a breezy courtyard. The morning sun was rising behind the pillar just over the ocean, making the campus saturate into bright blue, green, and black hues.

  The walkway led past a line of bright green trees to a four-story building perched near the eastern edge of the campus, overlooking the sea. The faint hush of ocean waves drifting across the campus soothed my nerves, and the smell of the flowers in front of the dorm put me further at ease.

  “House Anu’s dorm,” Waelid declared with a theatrical flourish, presenting a large mansion with a sloping roof and a wide, full-building balcony. “Here we’ll hone your thirst for truth, whatever that might mean in your personal journey. Don’t mind the high death rate, that’s just a rumor.” He grinned, prompting anxious looks from the newly sorted recruits.

  As we neared the front door, a handful of older House Anu members rushed out with excited chatter, peppering us with welcomes:

  “Congrats, recruits!”

  “You’ll love Ol’ Mumm’s cooking, come on in, it’s ready now!”

  “Hope you’re not squeamish about late-night ghost stories!”

  They hustled us inside, where I admired the wooden floors and the bright tapestries displaying House Anu’s symbol—a stylized eye superimposed on a rising sun. The corridor branched into various dorm wings, plus a communal lounge that smelled of fresh bread.

  Suddenly, a chilling hand clamped on my bicep. I turned—pain lanced up my arm as glossy, glass-like fingers dug in. The crowd parted, and the older students continued chattering with my friends, who were oblivious that I was being pinned in place.

  Turning me to face her was a tall girl, her skin appearing as polished alabaster, with pitch-black eyes. She was not human.

  A shudder ran down my spine. She hissed in a heavy accent, “Answer me truthfully, young man. Is there a second soul inside you?”

  Behind her, I spotted Hopsander walking into the dorm. His eyes widened.

  Fear spiked up my back, and in my mind, Fern cried out in fear.

  ‘Erik . . . !’