Page 7 of Lucent Academy: Trinity Awakens
"I'll write every week," I said, because I had to say something and those were the only words I could find. "And I'll see you in the summer. It's only a year until the first vacation."
"We'll be here," Father said. "We'll always be here."
"Be good," Mother whispered as she pulled me into one final embrace. "Be smart. Be brave. And remember who you are, no matter what happens. You're Leah Wood, gardener's daughter, and no amount of magic can change that."
"I love you."
"We love you too. Now go, before I change my mind and hide you in the cellar."
I laughed, or tried to, and then I was walking toward the gangplank with my trunk floating behind me, carried by some magic I didn't understand and hadn't asked for. The crowd parted before me, their faces a mixture of awe and fear and something that might have been envy, and I kept my eyes forward as I walked through them, not wanting to see their expressions, not wanting to know what they thought of me now that I was something other than what I had been.
The gangplank was steeper than it looked, and I had to grip the rope railings to keep from stumbling as I climbed. A man in imperial livery waited at the top, his face professionally blank, and he checked my name against a list before pointing me toward the interior of the ship. I stepped through a doorway and found myself in a corridor paneled with dark wood, lit by lanterns that burned without flame, and I followed it untilit opened into a cabin that was larger and more comfortable than I had expected. There were seats arranged along the walls, cushioned benches with safety straps hanging from them, and windows that looked out over the plaza below, and a handful of other young people were already there, sitting alone or in pairs, their faces wearing variations of the same expression I suspected was on my own: wonder and fear and grief all tangled together into something that had no name.
I found an empty seat near one of the windows and sat down, watching as the plaza grew smaller beneath me. I could see the streets of Hartwick spreading out in all directions, the grand avenues of the merchant quarter and the cramped alleys of the lower city, the gleaming spires of the cathedral and the green sprawl of the public gardens. And somewhere out there, too small to see now, was our cottage on the baron's estate, the garden with its impossible apple tree, the tiny figures of my family standing in the crowd below. The twins were waving, I thought, though it was hard to tell at this distance, and I pressed my hand against the glass as if I could somehow reach through it and touch them one more time.
"You must be the gardener's daughter."
The voice came from beside me, and I turned to find a girl about my age settling into the next seat. She was pretty in a fierce sort of way, with black hair cut short around her ears and the kind of muscular build that came from hard physical labor. Her hands, I noticed, were calloused and scarred, the hands of someone who worked with fire and metal.
"Leah Wood," I said. "And you are?"
"Amber Cole. Blacksmith's daughter." She grinned, showing teeth. "Looks like we're going to the Academy together."
"You're Manaborn too?"
"Apparently. Woke up on my birthday and accidentally melted my father's best anvil. He was furious until he realized what it meant. Now he won't stop crying." She rolled her eyes, but there was affection in it. "Parents, right?"
"Right."
The airship shuddered and began to rise, and I gripped the edge of my seat as the ground fell away beneath us. Through the window I could see the whole of Hartwick now, laid out like a map, all hundred thousand souls going about their morning routines while six of their children floated away into the sky. The great walls that encircled the city looked small from up here, and beyond them stretched the fields and forests and hills that had been the distant boundaries of my world for eighteen years. It was beautiful from this height, peaceful and perfect, and I felt my throat tighten with a grief I wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"Three days to get to the Academy," Amber said, following my gaze. "Can you believe it? Three days by airship for a journey that would take six weeks by road. They say the Academy's the most beautiful building in the Empire. They say the towers touch the clouds."
"I've heard that too."
"Are you scared?"
The question was direct, no pretense or politeness, and I found myself answering honestly. "Terrified."
"Good. Me too." Amber's grin widened. "At least we can be terrified together."
I felt something loosen in my chest, some knot of tension I hadn't even realized I was carrying. I was leaving everything behind—my family, my home, my dreams of a simple life—but maybe I wasn't leaving alone. Maybe there would be friends at the Academy, people like Amber who understood what it felt like to have your whole world turned upside down in a single morning.
"Together," I agreed, and for the first time since my awakening, I smiled.
The airship carried us north, climbing higher and higher until the clouds wrapped around us and the world below disappeared entirely. Behind us, the sun rose higher over the city I had called home for eighteen years, lighting up the rooftops of Hartwick and the winding streets and the distant gardens where my family was probably walking back home without me. I touched the pendant at my throat and felt its faint warmth against my skin, and I thought about my mother's words: remember who you are. I would try. No matter what happened at the Academy, no matter what kind of mate I summoned or what kind of war I was sent to fight, I would try to remember that I was Leah Wood, gardener's daughter, who wanted nothing more than a simple life with a kind husband and a house full of children.
Then I turned away from the window and faced forward, toward whatever was coming next.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE ROAD TO THE ACADEMY
The airship was called theSovereign's Pride, according to the brass plaque mounted beside the entrance to the passenger cabin, and it was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen in my life. The cabin itself was larger than our entire cottage back home, with polished wooden floors and velvet curtains and windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, offering an unobstructed view of the clouds drifting past. There were perhaps thirty seats arranged in small clusters, each one more comfortable than any chair I had ever sat in, and at the far end of the cabin stood a small bar where a uniformed attendant was preparing refreshments as though we were guests at a fancy party rather than conscripts being shipped off to learn how to fight in a war.
"This is incredible," Amber said, craning her neck to take in every detail. "My father's shop could fit in here three times over. Maybe four."
"I think our entire garden could fit in here," I agreed. "With room left over for the cottage."
"Do you think they feed us? I didn't have time for breakfast this morning, and I'm starving."
