“You got a what?”
Chiara stared at the Scrabble board, trying to decide what sort of word one could make with the letters q, g, and l with all the closed vowels already used. There was not much she could do.
“You got a what?”
There was the word squiggle, but there were no open e’s.
“Chiara Rose Dalton, you got a what?”
“Cut it out, I’m thinking!”
Holly blinked incredulously. “You got a Collective card and you’re thinking about a Scrabble word?”
Chiara pulled the cover over her tattered jeans and baggy grey sweatshirt. She was far too tired to change into pajamas. It was all right, though. She still had four hours before she had to start getting ready for school, and her alarm was already set. Sleep enveloped her within seconds.
It buzzed angrily.
She rose her head, not bothering to blow her frizzy hair from her face. She whimpered lightly.
“It’s not fair.”
Slowly, Chiara opened the apartment door, slipping her shoulder and head into the room before letting the rest of her body follow. Her parents and Grant were nowhere in sight and the apartment was quiet. Gingerly, she tiptoed inside, letting the door shut with a soft click. The tattered blue fabric couch looked so inviting after the longest day of her life and, on top of that, there was a plate of cookies on the edge of the kitchen counter. Chiara grabbed one and rolled onto the couch, taking her first, scrumptious bite. It melted in her mouth.
Free period was definitely a new concept.
In the Downs, the lowest parts of New York City, the public schools tended to get out two hours early so the teens could get to their part time jobs or night shifts or take care of younger siblings while their parents were out at jobs they could not afford to lose. A free period in the middle of the school day seemed completely random, but gratifying.
“And…here we are!”
One week later…
Seventeen year old Chiara sighed heavily as she settled her bike in the apartment building bike rack. It was still so cold and her breath hung before her lips in icy clouds. She had never been able to afford the proper clothes to ward out the unusually cold autumn weather, and had long since learned to brave to cold in her tattered, hand-me-down skinny jeans, t-shirts, tennis shoes, and flannels.
Prologue
The Globe Academy was established for the pure purpose of pushing students to the very limits of their human capabilities. If anyone had high hopes for their children, they tried their hardest to get them into the Globe.
- He sprinted through the empty hall, hugging an arm around his side as every step sent another shot of agonizing pain riding his spine.
a fortress was built inside which we could hide
dynasty
constructed on dirt onto which we had spit, made it
muddy
so that we could carve it with the prick of our fingernail
ruddy
about destinies and fantasies
'til the rain turned it to slop
and washed
away our fate
down storm drains
'til the following week the sun baked
it into clay
and the dust rose up
in waves
and beat at the sun-bleached
brick
As I look around the room
A pleasing scene now greets my eyes:
A family is sitting ‘round
And pleasant warmth within them lies.
The youngest boy, his math in hand,
Is trying to work a complication;
Yet, he works without frustration,
In his eyes shines fascination.
Besides his son, the father sits
To give whatever help he needs,
Thus showing love borne for his boy
And for the family that he leads.
“By Jupiter, what had happened to Scaevola?” Pompeius huffed, moments later.
The breakfast party disbanded. Pompeius and Naevius left. Cassian stood.
Thracius narrowed his eyes on Aquilus.
Aquilus had never been under such agonizing scrutiny. Carefully he slid out of his seat, not looking up. As subdued as his own slaves, Aquilus, head down, followed the older heads of militia.
Where had Scaevola gone? Surely not to send the order this early.