The Will of the Many (Hierarchy Book 1)

FROM THE DAY I HAULED myself from the Eldargo Strait, blind with exhaustion and pain, I’ve assumed that I would never see my childhood home again.

The following week passes in a haze as I wrestle with the challenging of that notion, try to imagine ways I can get out of going. Partly because I’m terrified at the prospect; though I doubt we’ll be mingling with the locals, there’s still a far higher chance that someone there might recognise me.

Beyond that, though, I’m simply not ready to face those ghosts. I’m not sure I ever will be. The very idea twists something inside my chest, tightens it so that it’s difficult to breathe. I try not to let it, but it haunts my days, distracts me from both study and training. I see flashes of my home that I haven’t remembered in years. I see people that may or may not still be alive. I see the last moments I had with my family, again and again. My father’s bloodied visage, eyes straining after me as I fall. My little sister, washing out to sea. I never even heard whether they found her body.

My work suffers. Not markedly, not so much that I fall behind or make a fool of myself. But I’m not as sharp as I should be. Scitus reprimands me a couple of times, though I think it’s because he knows I’m capable of more, not because I’ve performed inadequately.

My friends notice I’m distracted, too, but I deflect by telling them a half truth: that I’m surprised and worried about my invitation from Indol. They laugh and assure me that it’s a good thing, a sign that I’m expected to make Class Three myself eventually. I just nod and continue fretting.

The only way I’m able to soothe my anxiety is knowing that the Festival of Pletuna is fast approaching. My hope rests, as loathe as I am to admit it, on my meeting there with Relucia. She’ll understand the danger. See the risk of exposure. She might be able to convince Ulciscor to excuse me from this.

It’s two days before, Scitus dismissing us after the chime for dinner, when Aequa approaches me.

“Vis. Are you coming to Caten with us?” There’s immediate interest from Axien and Cassia nearby, and encouraging looks from Atticus and Felix. It seems most of the class will be at the festival.

I keep my expression neutral. We were always going to be taking the same Transvect, so going as a group implies staying together as a group. Relucia’s supposed to be meeting with me in secret. Joining the Fourths seems… unwise.

Scitus is standing off to the side; when I glance over at him, he raises an eyebrow meaningfully. He’s overheard, wants me to accept. Of course he’d be here right now. Of course he’d think that this was a way for me to show him I’m making an effort.

“I’d love to.” There’s no other option, really. I’ll just have to figure out how to slip away without attracting attention.

“Good.” Aequa seems pleased with the response. We start walking to dinner.

“Did you hear about Feriun?” When I shake my head, Aequa looks bleak. “His family have officially damned his memory.”

My heart drops. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Inevitable, for a suicide. I still worry that it wasn’t.

Aequa’s watching my reaction. “Did you see him at all before it happened? At the Festival of the Ancestors, I mean?”

“No.”

“I thought you might have seen him while you were out walking.”

I squint at her. “No,” I repeat, mystified.

“It’s just that the Magnus Quintus said you were out exploring the valley, both times I stopped by the Telimus crypt. He said he’d pass on that I’d been there.”

“Oh.” I do a reasonable job of not betraying my alarm. “He never mentioned you’d been by. He’s like that,” I explain apologetically.

“Forgetful?”

“Rude.” I give her what I hope is a charming, relaxed smile, and after a second she returns it. Good. Ulciscor must have done all he could to cover for me, but the Festival of the Ancestors is hardly an event which allows for unexplained absences. Concerning that it’s taken Aequa so long to bring it up. It’s evidently stuck in her mind.

Conversation turns to our strategy for the Labyrinth, which we’re due to run again in three days’ time. Aequa seems to have dropped the matter of the Necropolis, but I’m still uneasy. The more I see of her, the more I’m realising that she deserves her spot at the top of the rankings. She’s intelligent, focused, and fiercely hardworking.

Smart enough to keep harbouring suspicions about me, I’d wager. To keep pushing for answers.

Which means that Class Four is going to be even more difficult than I’d thought.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU GET to go to the festival.”

Callidus fiddles with the control bracer; I cringe as there’s a screeching groan below, a punctuation on Callidus’s obvious disappointment. We’re the only two in the Labyrinth this morning, luckily.

“It can’t be that much better in Caten.”

“You’re joking. The Festival of Pletuna is…” He sighs wistfully. “Did you know that gambling is legal for the day? There are dice games on every corner of the city. Every corner, Vis. And the women…” He sighs again.

“It sounds like maybe it’s a good thing you can’t go?” I show my amusement as he shoots me a glare, holding up my hands defensively.

Callidus growls, then returns to his inspection of the Labyrinth. “Have you ever wondered how this works?”

“Will-locking, obviously. But then there must be some serious Conditionals in there, too. For the bracer to move entire panels so easily…” I gesture, indicating it’s beyond me.

Callidus nods, clearly having come to the same conclusion. He moves a few more stones—unsuccessfully in most cases, the others with more awful scraping sounds—and then stops, frowning down at the maze. “It’s a waste of Will, keeping this powered.”

“I thought that too.” I join him at the edge of the balcony.

“And it’s complex. Weirdly complex. I mean, I can see the benefit. It fits all the categories for being good at wielding Will, and tests them without anyone needing to actually wield Will. But surely there are simpler ways to do mostly the same thing. To make this just for training doesn’t seem very efficient.”

I’m quietly impressed. The conclusion seems obvious to me now, but before my trip to the ruins, I was like everyone else. Didn’t think to question it. “Why else make it, though?”

Callidus, not to his detriment, shakes his head. “Who knows.” He unsuccessfully tries one last movement, then indicates I should take his place. “When’s the next run?”

“Day after the festival.”

Callidus sighs again. I give him a sympathetic look. “Your parents are still unhappy, I take it?”

“My father is.” The topic is still of some discomfort to him. “I won’t be alone, at least. Almost none of the Sixths and Sevenths are allowed to go. And only a few of the Fifths.”

“Even Emissa’s parents said no to this one,” I agree consolingly.

Callidus immediately perks up. “Disappointed?”

I ignore him. “It makes sense. I’m actually surprised the Academy is letting us go at all.”

“Religion runs the Academy. It’s a religious event.” Callidus spreads his hands to indicate the inevitability. “They don’t mind when families say no, but they’ll never stop anyone from going.” He hesitates. “Speaking of which. Are you sure you should be going?”

I don’t answer straight away. The Festival of Pletuna has a reputation for being wild, beatings and muggings and worse a common occurrence. It was like that even in the provincial towns, which I know because I risked attending once, before I was at the orphanage.

But that’s not what Callidus is getting at. This won’t be like the Festival of the Ancestors where I was accompanied by a Magnus Quintus, with the Necropolis under Military control and one of the most secure places in the world. The threat of the Anguis—and, judging from what Relucia told me, they are a threat—makes a raucous Caten hardly the safest destination.

“I’ll be fine. I can’t worry about it forever.”

“I mean, you can. If you want to. Not that I’m worried, of course. Obviously. But I can imagine how upset Emissa would be if something happened to you.”

I grin. “You just want to deprive me of the fun you’re so sure you’re missing out on.”

He laughs at that. “Maybe.”

The chime for breakfast soon sounds, finishing our half-hearted morning practice. “I expect tales when you return. Lots of tales,” he calls sternly as we part. “Don’t let those Fourths keep you from doing the fun stuff.”

I chuckle and wave my acceptance, though my mind’s already back on my meeting with Relucia. Wondering how she’s going to be able to contact me in secret. Trying to fathom how to excuse my slipping away from the Fourths for any period of time at all.

I head to breakfast, paste on a chirpy demeanour, and prepare to board the Transvect for Caten.