Today's Reading
PROLOGUE
'Dear applicants,'
'Welcome to the 1,273rd entrance exam for Paragon Runic Academy. For your own safety, please follow the enclosed instructions exactly as written.'
'The exam will take you approximately thirty-one hours. At the conclusion, you will retain no memory of the test material or what transpired in the examination room. This loss of recollection may cause panic or distress, and counseling is available upon request.'
'If, during the test, you experience symptoms of psychosis or are unable to remember personal details such as your name, please raise your hand and a proctor will arrive to administer treatment. If you have a physical impairment that prevents you from completing the test properly, please raise your hand and a replacement body will be provided for the duration. If you observe any unusual phenomena in the examination room, such as but not limited to uncontrollable laughter, flashing lights, objects moving themselves, or voices, please raise your hand to report them.'
'Any applicants found cheating will be subject to immediate putrefaction.'
'Thank you for taking part in this esteemed tradition. We wish you good fortune.'
'You may begin at the sound of the bell.'
CHAPTER ONE
ANA
I cried scarlet. Bloody tears slid from my cheeks, dripping onto the marble.
The chefs were cooking a roast in Clementine's wood oven. The other maids shrugged off the thick grey smoke, but it irritated my eyes. On good days, I cried like a normal person, watery, salty tears soaking my mattress in the basement.
This was not a good day.
I hauled the trash can through the entrance hall, arms shaking. Its handles bit into my fingers, but I didn't drop it. The tears made me dizzy, but I kept walking. If I took too long, Clementine would have me scrubbing toilets all night. Or she'd hold my pay for another month. I adjusted my grip, back straining, and managed to get a sweaty hand on the doorknob.
As I gripped the polished silver, I glanced at the mailbox beside me. A slender rectangle by the front door, mermaids engraved on its imitation gold leaf.
Still empty. My letter was late. Five hours, six minutes, and counting. Maybe the postman was swamped. Maybe his bike had gotten a flat tire. Or maybe I'd failed the exam. Maybe there was no letter.
And without a letter, I was dead. Watery blood dripped from my face, a cruel reminder of that fact.
Two steps from the front door, a car shot past me, roaring down the streets of Lowtown. I staggered back on the cobblestones, inches away from crushed toes. Three years in the capital, and I still hadn't acclimated to those puttering steel boxes. Automobiles had been around for decades, but back home, you were lucky if you owned a horse for the farm, much less anything with a motor.
I gazed up as I trudged to the seawall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Paragon Academy. No luck. Grey clouds from the ocean had merged with smog from the city's factories, blotting out the sky. The sun looked like a rotting peach as it set behind Mount Elwar. There was no glimmer of light in the heavens. No Paragon.
'Please', I prayed, 'let it be me this year.' Up there in the clouds, you could walk on water, freeze a lightning bolt in your palm, or squeeze sawdust into diamonds. Up there, illness was just a suggestion.
It felt so close. All just a letter away.
But only if you were special. That's what they muttered, from the silver mansions of Hightown to the filthy speakeasies of Lowtown. Maybe you were the smartest gnat in your village. Maybe you were the cream of the crop. You still didn't stand a chance. Thousands of teenagers took the exam every summer, praying for a ticket to paradise. But in the end, barely a handful received their tiny blue envelope.
When I reached the seawall, I planned to empty the trash can over the ledge. Instead, I collapsed on top of it, my chest slamming into the tin. Melon rinds and goose livers poured out, moldy and rotten. They fell past a carved staircase and plopped into the water below, forming a carpet of congealed filth.
I bent over the can, dripping blood into the sea. My tears dissolved like ink in a water glass, tiny clouds of red. The ocean seemed to go on forever.
When I finished, I crawled backward, out of breath. My white maid's cap had come loose, and clumps of hair drifted in my face. I grimaced. Though I was only seventeen, my scalp was already teeming with wispy grey strands. I'd drowned it in yellow dye, but that didn't stop my hair from looking like a mangled bird's nest.
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