They pushed the bathroom door open. Dim lights ran across the ceiling, spreading gloom more than dispelling it. The shadows scurried in rows of mirrors above pristine porcelain sinks. It was a stall situation—made sense in a building this big, but not as safe as a single room. "Just a minute," M'yu said, hoping Ruslan would wait outside.
M'yu slipped into one of the stalls. The door closed with a click, floor to ceiling, the picture of perfect civility. But from inside the stall, M'yu peered at the lock. It was a flimsy, cheap thing, the kind you buy to say it's installed, not to keep anyone out. Anyone with half a brain could pop it. Rot, M'yu could put a pen tip in and break it; it'd be even easier with a girl's hair clip. The door might be closed, and it might be locked, but it was not safe.
Ruslan's foot tapped outside. M'yu flushed, washed his hands, and offered Ruslan a smile in the mirror. The image wavered in the shadows, about as real as any appearance of safety. "Alright, then. Where do we start?"
He dried his hands on his pants and tried to step quickly past Ruslan, but the other boy stepped in front of him. "Actually. I was thinking about that. You might not have had a terrible idea coming here after all."
"Oh?" M'yu's muscles bunched, readying themselves for a fight, but his face stayed neutral.
"Yes. You see, I think we need to get a few things straight."
"I'm all ears." M'yu tried to sidestep, and Ruslan pushed him back.
"You say that, but I'm not feeling it. Try again—perhaps with a bit more feeling this time."
M'yu cocked his head. "Did I do something to you?"
"Not yet, and you're never going to. You see, my House runs this school. Do you understand that?"
M'yu understood terf wars plenty. "Man, I'm not looking to shake anything up."
Ruslan sneered. "Well, man," he mocked, "then perhaps you best listen closely."
"Do you always have your conversations in the bathroom?"
Ruslan lunged to push him again, but M'yu dodged and slipped around. He pressed his back to the door, an easy out. "Are we done here?"
Ruslan flicked a linkcard from his pocket and tapped a button. The door behind M'yu clicked locked, and M'yu stiffened. The other boy grinned. "Not by half."
"It's my first day here—" M'yu started.
"But it's not your first time trying to make a fool of my House, is it?"
"Ruslan, he was trying to break Aevryn's hand—"
"Aevryn? Duke z'Daras is Aevryn now?" Red-faced and sneering, Rusland took a slow step forward. "It sounds like you are in sore need of an education. So are you ready for our rules? Scrollschool 101, you might call it."
M'yu's hand drifted behind him and reached slowly for the door handle. "You are my guide. I hear that's what you're supposed to do."
"Yeah. You're right. I am your guide, which is why you are always going to refer to me as 'sir.' It's only respectful, don't you think?"
M'yu bit his lip, still searching for the handle. If the lock here was anything like the locks in the stall—
"What?" Ruslan insisted. "I couldn't hear you."
"Sure. Sir. You got it."
Ruslan snorted, and M'yu realized he'd let his Rightspeak slip again. "You really are just a guttersnipe, aren't you?" M'yu bristled, and Ruslan's grin widened. "Say it. 'I'm nothing more than a filthy guttersnipe.'"
M'yu bit his lip, holding back a laugh, and Ruslan's face went deadly slack. He took a step closer, body wound for a punch. His teeth grit. "I said, say it."
M'yu glanced up to meet his eye. "Are you sure?"
"Are you talking back, brat?"
"No, no, sir. Fine then. Fine." M'yu let his body language deflate but slipped some extra lockpicks from his coat sleeve behind his back. As somber as he could manage, he said, "Ruslan is nothing more than a filthy guttersnipe."
The boy threw a punch, but M'yu was ducking before Ruslan had even finished rearing back. Where he hit, there was no M'yu; his fist slammed into the hard door. "Sorry, sir," M'yu said. "I was too busy bowing and scraping to take your punch, I suppose."
"You little—"
M'yu ducked another punch, but it was difficult while trying to keep his hold at the door. With his back against the wall, he could only keep up the dodging for so long. "Ruslan," M'yu pleaded. "What are the teachers going to think when I come to class with a black eye?"
"That you got it on the streets," he growled, throwing another punch. His hand hit the door again, just barely whizzing past M'yu's ear.
M'yu shoved him off, then slipped the lockpick into the door behind him. The lock popped, and M'yu shoved the door open, tumbling into the hall. Ruslan hurried out after him, looking like an entirely different boy. He straightened his jacket and ran a hand back through his slicked hair. The only thing that maintained was the dark gleam in his eye and the sick grin on his face. "Shall we continue the tour then?"
M'yu swallowed. He wasn't used to fighting with rats who could swipe at him when he couldn't swipe back, who changed into mice when the cameras were on. A teacher strolled down the hall and nodded at Ruslan. Ruslan raised a hand in respectful greeting.
M'yu used the shadows and distraction to disappear around the corner. He watched Ruslan glance around for him, but M'yu held still. Hiding was more about holding your will than having the best spot. Ruslan called his name like you might a friend, but what M'yu heard was a butcher calling to his chickens. He waited for Ruslan to wander off a direction looking for him, then peeled away to hunt down this library that Sviya had mentioned.
The building had no signs. He wished he could tap the place's security just to get a map, but for that, he'd need a linkcard that was halfway programmable. He cursed under his breath, wondering why Ruslan had one and how to convince Aevryn not to deny him any sort of weapon.
The halls were quiet, so there was nobody to mind as he cracked open doors and peered inside. They really were ridiculously early, and M'yu sucked on the witchcandy sore in his mouth, worrying. M'yu couldn't believe Dymtrus had shown up here just to meet Aevryn. These people had him nailed to a tee. It was no wonder he was so desperate for M'yu to find some dirt on them.
M'yu closed the door to a large auditorium and continued through the labyrinthine halls. After long enough that he was starting to hear hubbub from the other halls, he finally spotted an arch marked THE GREAT LIBRARY. Sighing, M'yu hurried through the heavy doors.
A wide, circular study area took up the main space, filled with dozens of tables and hundreds of chairs. Around the clearing loomed a forest's worth of books, all stacked neatly in rows and rows of bookcases. Staircases on M'yu's left and right wound up to a second floor, leading to more books, and in the back, past that—
Consoles!
M'yu sprinted up the curving stairs, wound along the rail overlooking the first floor, and bee-lined toward the glistening black screens. There were two whole banks of the beauties, ten deep. At the school in the Gloam, there had been only one console in the entire place, hidden deep in the headmaster's office.
Hands jittering, M'yu pulled a seat out and reached toward a screen. It lit up with a chirp. LINKCARD REQUIRED. M'yu fumbled for his card, reached toward the console—
"Are you serious?" a girl called.
M'yu's head snapped up. Sviya slipped off a window seat further in the library and marched over toward him.
"Those are for the fourth-years, and if anyone even knew you had been touching them—" Her face flushed, her cheeks turning the same color as her spring-apple lips. She stopped by him, hands on her hips. "Are you even listening to me?"
M'yu blinked at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Fantastic. Another puppy dog who can't keep his eyes to himself."
He scrambled out his chair and away from the offending console. "I'm not a puppy dog."
"But you don't deny the last bit?" She scoffed and turned away, dress swishing behind her. "I have too many puppies already," she said, back to him. "Stay out of my way."
"Your way?" M'yu followed her around the bank. "Looks to me like you rushed over here to get in mine, not the other way around."
She spun. "Oh? So next time you want me to let you set off the alarms in the office that an underclassman is trying to access the consoles?"
"I'm not saying that. I was just saying—"
"That you think you deserve special treatment from me because my uncle set this up? Well, let me tell you, he sets up plenty that I don't want anything to do with. You're not special."
She spun again and settled back in her corner. She picked up a book, staring at it with her brow furrowed. When M'yu didn't immediately move, she said, "You can go now."
He stood there, still thinking. She rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him, over-exaggeratedly turning a page.
M'yu's foot tapped. "So if you don't want me bothering you—"
Her book snapped shut. "You have to be jesting."
M'yu spread his hands wide, circling closer. "I'm just trying to figure things out here. Why'd you bother stopping me?"
"Did you not want me to?"
"Why would you care what I want or not?"
She looked up to the ceiling, and it reminded him of his mother counting to ten before she chased down one of her troublesome children. "Because," she drew out, "my name is listed on your record. Unfortunately. So if you get into any trouble, on your first day especially, someone is going to blame me, and I'm not going to have that. So on that note, where in the world is your handler?" She stared at him, brows arched.
M'yu laughed a bit. "I'm afraid Ruslan and I got separated."
"He's so stupid," she muttered. "Fine. Sit. Here." She pointed at the floor beneath her window seat, and M'yu drew up.
"You said you didn't want another puppy, and I already told you I wasn't one. You'd better think twice if you believe for a second I'm going to come when called and curl up at your feet."
She scoffed. "How else do you want me to keep an eye on you? You're trouble. I can tell."
"Oh, yeah? How's that?"
"Well, you already tried to break into the computer systems and you lost the only person who cared to look after you. I'd say you're on quite the winning streak."
M'yu turned to the shelves and ran his finger gently over the spines. "Are any of these off limits, or just the consoles?"
"They're open resources for educated students," she said. "But not for illiterate peasants."
M'yu squinted at her. "What exactly do you think I'd want with the consoles if I was illiterate?"
"They're shiny." She made a face at him, but M'yu just laughed at her. She should drive him mad; most of the rich kids he'd ever interacted with made him want to punch them in the face, girls or not. But there was something so intentionally over-the-top, so intelligently ignorant about her, that she was just Exhibit A of rich folk syndrome. She made him want to make her see the truth. He shook his head and slipped the thickest tome off the shelf he could find and started reading from the middle of the page in the thickest Rightspeak he could muster. "...should only render the legal services of the aforementioned citizen hereunto the plaintiff as necessary—"
She scoffed. "So the puppy can read. Would you like for me to clap? Perhaps you wish for a treat?" She dangled her purse, its chain clinking. Setting it down, she picked up her book again and settled further into the window. "If you want a book, I'm sure no one will begrudge you having a book. Just don't get any stains on it. Now hush. I'm doing real work."
M'yu perused the shelves nearby. The spines all seemed to indicate they were legal tomes. Lips twisting, he turned out of the area.
"And where do you think you're going?" she called after him.
"I thought you were busy doing real reading," he called back as he rounded a shelf. "Well, I'm off to find the real books."
"The law books are real books. What could you possibly be after—" She started muttering, and her dress crinkled. Not long later, her heels tapped after him. "Where are you going?" she demanded again.
"To find the programming section." He glanced over his shoulder, and her nose crinkled. "Don't tell me it's only open to fourth-years too?"
"What? No. I just don't understand anyone who would want to spend more time programming than they do pursuing the law, especially when the Right to Speak is the first thing you have to pass in the Trial. If you don't know the law, it doesn't matter what else you know. You won't ever be able to do anything with it."
"You'd be surprised," he muttered, turning another corner.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she huffed. Her heels click-tapped faster until she caught his wrist. Despite her white gloves, her hands were still warm against his skin. He bit his lip. She had the ears of a rat listening for dropped crumbs.
He shrugged and pulled from her grasp. "Just that I like to code. Why don't you?"
Her face screwed up. "It's all numbers and math and—" She shook her head, looking like she'd just taken a bad bite of something. "Actually, it's worse than math."
"You have to be jesting!" he said, then wrinkled his nose as he realized he'd picked up the Cap phrase almost unintentionally.
She drew herself up. "No, I do not. You don't have to be good at everything, no matter what the Washfall Trial says. Not if you don't want a champion position, or a dukedom. And I don't," she said firmly.
M'yu held up his hands. "Trust me, I wasn't accusing you of it. I just don't understand how someone could like legal jargon and loopholes more than clear if-this-then-that."
"The law is clear. If you're not a simpleton." She eyed him up and down like she wasn't so sure he wasn't.
M'yu just shook his head and turned away. "Are you going to follow me around while I get lost, are you going to go back to your window seat and hope I don't break anything, or are you going to show me what I'm looking for?"
She huffed and pushed past him. "It's this way. You're not even close to the right section."
With her back to him, M'yu smiled and followed her. She led him around to the other side of the rail, deep toward the back. "Here," she said proudly, gesturing.
M'yu scanned the shelves. He'd read that one. And that one. They had ten copies of a book he'd already finished twice. And... oh, there was the book Karsya had stolen for him from the Gloam school. He pulled it out, flipping fondly through its pages. He had most of it memorized. He slipped it back onto the shelf and kept looking. He slid across the shelf—
And hit another subject. He frowned, slid back the other way, and hit the same problem. Turning, he looked at the cross shelf, but it was also on a different subject—something to do with engineering. He shook his head, turning to Sviya, who was waiting impatiently with a hand on her hip. "Where are the upper level books?"
She laughed. "Slow down, hero boy. Just because you like running into burning buildings doesn't make you better than everyone else. This is the open resource shelf for programming."
M'yu shook his head. "No, there are like twenty shelves for law; we just passed them. There can't be just half a shelf for all of programming."
She shrugged, her glossy hair slipping over her shoulder. "I'm sure there's enough there to keep you entertained while I work." She pointed. "That one looks like it has pretty colors. Maybe you should try it."
"Yeah, it'd be great if I was still in elementary school. The Gloam had all these books. I read them."
She scoffed. "Okay then. Well I guess you'll just have to settle with 'rereading' one for now." Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel as if she expected him to follow.
"I'm serious, Sviya," he called after her.
She turned, hand on hip. "And why should I care?"
"Do you know where the other books are?"
"The upper level teachers have personal collections on their favorite subjects. But they only loan them out to their favorite pupils. So unless you want to drop the charade, you're out of luck, and you're wasting my time."
M'yu drug a hand down his face, then turned and picked up one of the books he had only read once. They were entry level, but maybe there was some secret buried at the back he'd missed in the past. He came after Sviya but sat in one of the adjacent window seats, not quite in sight but close enough they could hear each other turning pages. The lines of code felt like reading a novel in your native language after not having seen anything in it for a while, but it didn't tell him anything new. When Sviya rose to come get him, he put the book back where it belonged, and they left the library together.
"Now listen, puppy," she said as they walked. The halls were fuller now, students trickling into their classes. "You are not my responsibility, so after I drop you off, I don't want you trying to talk to me. If you have a problem, you bother Ruslan with it. In fact, not talking would probably be in your benefit in general. Don't embarrass yourself by answering questions. Don't, for goodness sake, don't dare ask any questions. Just in general, try to pretend you're not here. You won't be soon enough, after all. No reason to make waves." And with that, she ushered him into their first class of the day.
Tried to, at least. M'yu caught her wrist. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Unhand me," she said mildly, "or I'll have you prosecuted for assault."
"Why won't I be here?" He let her go.
She looked him up and down again, the kind of appraisal you give a mangy cat you doubt can even mouse. "Because if you don't flunk before the semester is out, it'll be because Duke z'Daras complained."