I peered out the passenger window of Emeraldâs car as she pulled into the parking lot of Zenith. The only word I could think of to describe my new school was opulent.
It was so big it looked more like a college than a high school. It was several stories high and made from a combination of glass and brick. There was even a bell tower, except instead of a bell, it had a sun sculpture that appeared to be made of solid gold.
A whistle escaped from my lips as I opened the passenger door and unfolded myself from the cramped position Iâd been sat in. The carpool here had been awkward to say the least, with me squished in the back of Emeraldâs convertible with Heidi, who talked incessantly, while Nikolas, sat up front with Emerald, didnât talk at all. At least her attempts to flirt with him had been completely unsuccessful, which was kind of amusing.
The only enjoyable part of the ride had been when Iâd texted Gus a picture of my gross school uniform and freshly dyed dark-brown hair, and heâd sent back an essayâs worth of crying-laughing emojis. I also managed to sneakily take a photo of the side of Nikolasâs head without him noticing, but there wasnât enough of him in the picture for Gus to pass his hot-or-not judgment. Not that I needed Gusâs opinion on that; Nikolas Storm was a grade-A hottie.
I adjusted my quiver and bow, as Nikolas appeared at my side. He looked up at the solid-gold sun in the bell tower, his frown so intense that his thick, dark eyebrows nearly met in the middle.
âI guess it is a bit OTT,â I quipped. âFor a bunch of teenagers.â
Silently, Nikolasâs gaze slid to me. He grimaced, then marched away.
Rude.
âHey Nik, wait up,â Emerald cried in a pathetically breathless manner.
She hurried after him, dragging Heidi along with her, the younger sister clinging on like the intimidated freshman she was.
âDonât worry about me,â I called out. âI can find my own way aroundâ¦â
I headed for the main building, through the middle of the square, where a bunch of Celestials sat around a stone fountain. Their uniforms had been specially tailored to accommodate their wings and they sported an array of different-colored feathers. They watched me pass with judgy expressions, so I kept my chin up high.
The entryway doors to Zenith were made of glass that opened automatically as I approached. I stepped inside and was immediately overpowered by the stench of fresh lilies and the blinding glare of a shit ton of white marble.
It was everywhere. Marble floors. Marble columns. Marble staircase. The whole place was a lurid, shiny white color, like the interior designer had been given a one-word brief: Heaven. I squinted against the glare.
As I followed the signs toward reception, a cluster of Fae watched me with disdainful expressions. One of themâa skinny blond girl with papery wings that looked like oil on waterâwhispered to the others about my âgross pointy ears.â
I smirked. Clearly Oil Slick wasnât smart enough to know that Elkie were blessed with super-sensitive hearing and that I could easily hear her taunt with my said âgross pointy ears.â
I shot her a death glare as I passed. She gulped.
As I turned down the corridor, I made the decision to keep my hearing on high alert so I could pick up any low-volume whispers. Yes, Elkie can control their hearing. And no, Iâm not a sadistic glutton for bullying. I was genuinely curious as to how Iâd be received. Clearly Elkie were rare in these parts.
The reception desk came into view ahead of me, a white marble monstrosity covered in glass vases filled with pungent lilies. I took my last gulp of fresh air before striding over to it.
Just as I reached the desk, Nikolas passed me, going the other way. He gave me one of his expressionless looks. In other words, he ignored me completely. I was getting tired of his whole cold-shoulder routine.
The receptionist was a chubby Fae with messy blond hair and red lipstick. Her wings showed all the telltale signs of being badly surgically neatened. According to one of Gusâs beauty magazines, a lot of Fae choose to undertake cosmetic procedures to stop their wings getting raggedy as they age. I personally think thereâs nothing wrong with aging gracefully, but I might change my mind about that once my pointy ears start heading south.
âYes?â the receptionist asked abruptly.
âTheia Foxglove,â I told her, drumming my fingers on the countertop. âNew student. First day. Iâm here to sign in.â
The woman tapped my name into her computer, then glided over to the filing cabinets, leaving a swirl of sparkles in her wake.
I rocked on my heels as I waited, and glanced around the reception area.
There was a poster on the wall that looked very much like a map of the school campus. All the colors were in black and dark blue and there was a little cartoon owl in the left corner. At the top, it said the word Eclipse.
The receptionist reappeared behind her desk and handed me a bulging envelope. âMap. Lanyard. Locker key. Rota.â
I tucked the envelope under my arm. âWhatâs that a map of?â My gaze roved back to the poster.
She looked at me like I was an idiot. âThis is a shared building. During the daylight itâs Zenith. At night, the golden sun statue in the bell tower turns into a moon and the school becomes Eclipse.â
Huh. Interesting.
Maybe that was why Nikolas had been so frosty earlier. If heâd attended Eclipse before he switched from moon- to sun-class, it would have been his first time seeing the school in its daytime incarnation. It must have been weird for him. Still, he didnât have to be a dick about it.
âWhat else changes at night?â I asked the receptionist with curiosity.
She frowned. âI dunno, kid. Why are you asking me? I work the day shift.â
Now this was my kinda lady.
âRighto. You have yourself a good day, then,â I said, and walked away.
I quickly texted Gus about the grumpy receptionist, proclaiming her my new hero, then headed down the gleaming white hallways.
I rummaged inside the envelope for my rota. Zenith didnât teach two of the classes Iâd been taking at Sunny High, so it was out with Runes and Potion Making and in with Business Studies and Computer Technology. Along with that I had history, languages and, of course, the compulsory Battle Class.
As part of the 1885 peace treaty, both moon- and sun-class had to demilitarize. To get around it, every schoolkid nationwide takes something called Battle Class. The theory is, should a war between moons and suns ever break out again, thereâs an insta-army ready to fight.
Itâs also my favorite subject.
I fished out the directions for my locker and headed off down the corridor in search of it. When I located it, I discovered that it didnât have a trusty old padlock and key system but a state-of-the-art digital thumbprint recognition device. Thereâs that word again: opulent.
I worked through the instructions to set it up and the electric-powered door swung open. I was just about to dump my stuff inside when a hairy, hoof-like hand jutted out from behind the locker door and grasped hold of my bow.
A visceral sensation went straight through me. Disgust. Revulsion. A general feeling of wrongness.
My instinctive Elkie fight mode took over. I reacted without thinking.
In less than a split second, I grabbed my bow and wrenched it sideways, dragging whomever was clasping it into the space directly in front of me. Then I jutted out with the heel of my palm and slammed it into the throat of my attacker.
They let go of the bow and staggered backward into the opposite wall.
My cheeks burned with anger.
âDidnât your mother ever teach you itâs rude to touch an Elkieâs bow?â I cried.
Only then did I get a chance to see my brazen attacker.
It was a school security guard.
Oh crap.
As the feeling of immediate danger ebbed from my body, I became very aware of everyone around me. They were all craning their necks to get a good look at the new girl whoâd lashed out at a school security guard on her first day. This was the sort of reputation that stuck around. I was going to have a hard time shaking this one.
The guard, a Daimon, had his back pressed against the wall as he tried to recover his breath. Then his head snapped up and locked on me.
I recoiled. He had the goatlike face and long horns of a Baphomet.
Baphomets are a type of Daimon well known for having bad tempers and poor verbal reasoning skills. In other words, theyâre fighters, not talkers. This wasnât looking good for me.
As the guard glared at me, his big hairy nostrils flaring, I took up a defensive stance. If we were going to resolve this situation through hand-to-hand combat, then Iâd better be ready.
âHand over the bow,â he demanded, taking a heavy step toward me.
âNo way. Iâm Elkie. My bow stays with me always.â
âYou donât have a choice. No weapons in school.â
What wasnât this asshole understanding?
âI said no,â I told him firmly.
He reached me and glared down his goatlike nose. Then, suddenly, he slammed his cloven fist into my locker door.
I jumped in shock. The blow had been hard enough to leave a dent.
âDonât make me mad, girl,â he growled.
I shouldâve left it. But I couldnât help myself. The sarcasm came bubbling up through me like a tsunami. I stared him in the eyes.
âDonât call me girl, dude,â I replied through my teeth.
That was it. My sass was the last straw. The Baphomet guard snapped.
He growled and bared his teeth. He made another grasp for my bow. Big mistake. My Elkie protective instinct kicked in.
I grabbed his arm and swung him in a wide circle, before slamming him headfirst into the lockers. His horns pierced the metal and went all the way in.
He tried to pull himself back out. But his long horns were stuck.
An audience of students started laughing at the sight of the guard head-deep in the lockers. I took my chance and ran for it.
Up ahead, two uniformed guards were thundering down the staircase. They clocked the Baphomet flailing with his head in the locker, then saw me, floundering in the middle of the corridor. My guilty expression was a dead giveaway.
âHey! Stop!â one of them shouted.
I doubled back on myself, heading for the exit. If I had to run out of this goddamn school to keep hold of my bow, then I would.
I raced around the corner, my sneakers squeaking on the marble, and shoved past a group of Mages.
âWatch it,â someone snapped.
Their parrot familiar began to squawk. âWatch it. Watch it.â
From behind, I heard the hurrying footsteps of all the students whoâd been watching the fight. They wanted to see the finale of this drama.
The glass entryway doors appeared ahead of me. I ran as fast as my Elkie speed would allow, my mind focused on freedom.
Suddenly, a huge, hulking body stepped into the space between me and the exit. It was so big it blocked out all the light.
I skidded to a halt and looked up into the face of a Giantess.
Oh crap.
She was big, her guard uniform stretched across her large, square shoulders. The beige color clashed horribly with the algae hue of her mottled, wart-covered skin. She must have been part Giant, part Troll. Her huge, bulging eyes made me worry for her thyroid health.
She was pretty badass, I had to admit.
All she had to do was fold her arms and give me a stern look, and I was just about ready to obey her every command.
Only I didnât get a chance. Because the two security guards slammed into me from behind and tackled me to the ground.
I hit the floor, hard, and was instantly winded. As I gasped for breath, my arms were yanked behind me. Then my bow and quiver were wrestled from my shoulder.
The absence of my weapon felt like grief. Like a deep, primal pain. I really did not want to cry right now, so I went for the next best thing. I roared in anger and shouted every expletive I could think of.
The pressure came off my back. I could breathe again. The guards had got what they wanted. My bow had been confiscated.
I rolled onto my back, winded, sore, and aching with grief for my bow.
The Giantess loomed into view. She stared at me with her protruding eyeballs.
âNo weapons in school,â she said.
Her breath stank of pond water.
I gave her a limp thumbs-up. âGot it,â I squeaked.
The ordeal was over. I heaved my aching body into a sitting position and discovered a million cell phones pointed at me.