“How many markings?” the robed man asks.
“Four,” Joshua answers, his voice wavering over the simple word. Without looking back, he crosses through the water and walks up past the robed figures, and leaves through the golden door as the guy before him did.
“How many more people before us?” Kelly whispers to me softly.
“Twenty-two,” I whisper back. “Just be glad our surnames don’t begin with Z.” I shoot a smile at her, which she returns nervously. 247 of us needing to be blessed, I’m glad I’m not the robed guys right now. Turning my head, I cast my eyes across to the guy sitting at the back at the far right. Nope. It’s him I am glad not to be, his knees will be aching like hell by the time he gets called.
I turn my attention back to the ceremony, watching each person stand, as they are called and step into the water. They all receive marks; the lowest three and the highest earning ten. The one with ten gets some impressed looks from other students, who are kneeling and waiting. As I watch Liam Cartwright walk through the large doors on the other side of the water, I take a deep breath.
“Mackenzie Crowe.”
Despite expecting it, I freeze when my name is called. I wasn’t feeling nervous before, but the water suddenly looks so much more daunting. With so many still in here watching, I feel the pressure mount. What if I only get one? It doesn’t matter so much to me if I don’t have powers, but others may think less of me for it, and I have to put up with these people for the next three years.
What if I stand in the water and have nothing, nada. If I’m not marked, what would happen then? It’s not as if that is common, but it’s been known to happen; I wouldn’t be the first. Not marked, not human, but unmarked. The unmarked are born of a marked line, but not deemed worthy of power. The ultimate failure in the eyes of my people.
I gulp as I stand, straightening my shoulders as I walk the short distance to the water. The water is completely still, not a ripple in sight. I dip my toe in first, feeling the cold shoot straight into me, chilling me to my bones. I cast a glance back at Kelly. She shoots me an encouraging smile and mouths something at me, but I can’t make out what. I turn back, looking straight at the door ahead, and step into the water.
I wade in until about waist deep and in the centre of the pool. I look up above, the gap in the ceiling of the cave letting the moonlight in. The glow of the full moon is strangely comforting. The gong sounds, and I submerge a second after, letting the icy-cold water cover me, closing my eyes as my head goes under. I feel the chill of the water make me shiver, and I start to wonder how I will know I have been blessed or not, when I feel a burn on my left ankle. That’s one. Another on my right hip. That’s two.
Fuck my ribs! I clutch my ribs with my hands as a burn starts there as well. And then suddenly, pain strikes across my body in several places all at once. The water now feels hot, not cold. I pull myself upright, so I’m standing, shaking slightly. I look down at myself and try to make a count of all the marks, using pain as an indicator of the ones below clothing.
Both ankles, both thighs, both hipbones, my ribs, two on my back, both wrists, and I feel a burn on the back of my neck. Wait, how many is that? I do a mental count. Twelve. That’s got to be wrong. I count again. A throat clears drawing my attention to the hooded figures, knowing I need to announce my markings. I try to count again, coming up with the same answer, twelve. How is that possible?
“Miss Crowe?”
“Tw-twelve,” I stutter quietly.
“I’m sorry?”
“Twelve,” I repeat more clearly. “I have twelve marks.”
Whispers start around the room. It doesn’t take long for the volume to rise, and for it to become shouting. Twelve marks, it’s impossible.
I can hear people yelling things like “liar,” “deceit,” and “check her” as I swallow and slowly make my way across the rest of the pool. I stand before the robed elders, waiting for them to allow me to pass and enter The Academy.
One of the figures steps toward me and holds out their hands, palm up, requesting my own. I place my hands in theirs and they turn my hands over and inspect the two markings on my wrists. The symbol of flames on one, and water on the other. They release them and twirl their fingers, asking me to turn around. I do as they say, facing the other students who are waiting for their own initiation to begin. I feel fingers lightly brush my thick, dark hair out of the way and then trace over the marking on my neck. I shiver from the gentleness of the touch.
“I don’t need to see anymore,” the man’s voice says quietly. “This is the twelfth marking on your neck. I’ve never seen anyone wear this mark. I believe what you say is true.”
I release a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. At least, he isn’t going to make me strip in front of most of my classmates on the first day. Now, that would have been embarrassing.
“Continue into the school, Miss Crowe. We will speak with you once the ceremony is over,” he says it softly, so the words don’t carry.
I nod my head and slip past him, eager to get away from all the eyes watching me. I reach the large door and push, it opens far more easily than I’d expected. I walk through and allow the door to close behind me, cutting off the stares. Just as the door is about to close, I hear them call Kelly’s name.
Chapter 2
Kenzie
Twelve marks. I have twelve marks, and the twelve powers that go with them. How did this happen? I’ve never heard of anyone having twelve marks before. The highest number of marks I’ve heard about was a guy who got eleven last year. He was a hero around my community for months; everyone was talking about him. I try not to think of anything more and let my mind circle around the facts, as I walk up the dozens of high steps to another pair of big doors. I push open the doors to a large hallway, and I shut them behind me. Shivering from the cold, as my wet dress sticks to me, my long hair drips water onto the floor. Every drop echoes as it hits the ground in the otherwise silent hallway. I move quietly down the corridor, hating how my shoes sound squishy against the shiny, pristine floor.
“Here,” a woman says, making me jump as she steps out of the shadows at the side of the hallway. I can’t see what she looks like as she has a black cloak on, and the large hood is covering her face. She hands me a folded, black cloak much like the one she is wearing, and I happily take it from her as I’m freezing.