Chapter 2 The Dividing Line

The Great Hall of Caldera Academy did not feel like a place for learning. It felt like a courtroom where we were all waiting to be sentenced.

My boots clicked against the dark stone as Cleo and I walked through the double doors. I kept my chin up, but my hand instinctively went to my pocket, searching for the small, metal shape of my mother’s silver thimble. It wasn't there—I had left it in our dorm room for safekeeping—but just thinking about it helped ground me.

"Look at them," Cleo whispered, her voice fast and tight. She nudged my elbow. "They look like they’ve never had a bad day in their entire lives."

I followed her gaze. The hall was split right down the middle by a wide aisle of black marble.

On the right side sat the Bloom students. Their uniforms were a bright, crisp white, trimmed with polished gold thread that caught the light from the floating glass lanterns above. They sat straight, laughing softly behind manicured hands. They looked clean, expensive, and entirely safe.

On the left side sat the Gloom students. Our uniforms were a heavy, charcoal gray, almost the color of wet ash. The fabric was scratchy against my neck, and there was no gold trim here. Most of the kids on our side were slouching, staring at the floor with dark circles under their eyes. We looked like the shadows the Bloom side was trying so hard to ignore.

"Don't let them see you staring," I said softly, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead. "We belong here just as much as they do."

"Easy for you to say," Cleo muttered, though she pulled her shoulders back. She had spent twenty minutes in our room styling her dark hair into two perfect, sharp buns, and she had lined her eyes with heavy black ink. It was her armor. "You have that look in your eye like you're ready to fight a bear. I just look like I'm about to throw up."

"You look great, Cleo. Just breathe."

We found two empty seats near the back of the Gloom tables. As soon as we sat down, a sudden wave of heat rolled through my chest. I gasped, pressing a hand to my sternum. It felt like a hot coal had been dropped right behind my ribs.

My magic was waking up. The closer we got to the volcanic core beneath the school, the more my own power began to thrash inside me, trying to break free. Without a beast to absorb this pressure tonight, my veins would start to burn. I knew the timeline. My mother had warned me. A year, Kira. If you do not bond, the magic will consume you.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the heat down, hiding the pain. I couldn't show weakness. Not here.

"Well, well. Look what the tide washed in."

I opened my eyes. A girl from the Bloom side was standing in the aisle, looking down at us. Her white uniform was spotless, and she had a sparkling silver pin shaped like a crescent moon on her collar. Her name was Bianca. I had seen her on the ferry, surrounded by a flock of adoring friends.

"You're in the wrong section, aren't you?" Bianca asked, her voice sweet but dripping with pity. "The charity cases usually sit closer to the kitchens. I think the smell of grease suits you better."

A few of her friends behind her giggled.

I felt Cleo stiffen beside me. She opened her mouth to snap back, but her voice caught in her throat. She was terrified of making a scene on her first day.

I didn't have that fear. I had spent my whole life dealing with landlords who threatened to throw my mother onto the street and shopkeepers who accused us of stealing just because our coats had patches. Bianca was just another bully, only she wore nicer clothes.

I stood up slowly. I was a few inches shorter than Bianca, but I looked her dead in the eye. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.

"My name is Kira," I said, my voice steady and quiet. "And I'm sitting exactly where I'm supposed to be. If you have a problem with my seat, you can take it up with the Headmistress. Otherwise, I suggest you go back to your side before you get gray ash on your pretty white coat."

Bianca’s smile vanished. Her eyes narrowed, flashing a bright, unnatural violet for a split second. "You don't know who you're talking to, mainland trash."

"I don't care who you are," I said honestly. "Move."

Before Bianca could reply, a tall shadow fell over the table.

"Is there a problem here?"

The voice was cold, smooth, and entirely authoritative. I turned my head. Julian Sterling was standing in the aisle. He wore the dark gray uniform of the Gloom track, but he had a thick, silver warden's band pinned to his shoulder. His pale skin looked stark against the dark fabric, and his dark eyes swept over the three of us with absolute detachment.

Bianca’s entire posture changed. She softened, taking a step back and folding her hands neatly. "Julian. No problem at all. We were just welcoming the new arrivals. Though some of them seem a bit... ungrateful."

Julian didn't look at Bianca. His eyes were locked on me. He remembered me from the docks. I could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched against the silver hilt of the ceremonial dagger at his hip.

"Return to your seat, Bianca," Julian said. "The ritual is about to begin. The Wardens will not tolerate disruptions in the Great Hall."

Bianca flushed, but she didn't argue. She gave me one last, icy glare before turning on her heel and marching back to the Bloom side.

Julian remained standing by our table. He looked down at me, his face a mask of cold discipline. "I told you on the docks to keep your head down, Locke. Standing up to the legacy students on your first hour is the opposite of that."

"She was insulting my friend," I said, refusing to look down. "I'm not going to sit here and let someone treat us like dirt just because we don't have gold on our collars."

Julian leaned in slightly. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "This isn't the mainland. Out there, a fight gets you a bruised knuckle. In here, if you draw the wrong attention, you disappear. Do you understand me? You don't have the protection of a family name. You have nothing."

His words stung, mostly because they were true. But instead of making me afraid, they made something hot and fierce spark in my gut. I thought of my mother, working herself to the bone to send me here so I could live. I wasn't going to let some wealthy vampire warden tell me I was nothing.

"I have myself," I said. "And I'm not afraid of them. Or you."

Julian stared at me. For a second, the coldness in his eyes cracked, revealing a strange, desperate flicker of exhaustion. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he caught himself. He pulled his shoulders back, his expression freezing over once more.

"We'll see how brave you are in the caverns," he said.

He turned and walked away, his long black cloak sweeping behind him.

A second later, the massive brass bells at the top of the hall began to toll. The sound was deep, vibrating right through the stone floor and straight into the soles of my boots. Underneath our feet, the ground gave a low, rhythmic hum, like a giant heart beating deep within the earth.

The heavy oak doors at the front of the hall creaked open.

Madame Vane stood in the doorway. Her silver hair was pulled back into a tight, severe bun, and her long black robes trailed on the floor. She held a tall staff made of polished obsidian.

"The time has come," her voice echoed through the silent hall. "The volcano calls. Walk forward, children of Caldera, and claim your bonds. Or let the wild magic take you."

Cleo grabbed my hand. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling. I squeezed them back, letting her feel my warmth.

"We're going to make it," I whispered to her.

But as we stood up and joined the line of students walking toward the dark doorway, the heat in my chest flared so violently I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. The fire was ready. I just hoped the volcano had something strong enough to put it out.