Green Jack Read Online Free PDF Page B

talent, and the numen. They were the
Collegium’s personal Greek chorus, moving and speaking as one.
    But in the
Cella antechambers, they were still very much themselves. Asher
shoved her hard, bruising her already-bruised shoulder as he passed
by. Kiri caught her before the stumble turned into an undignified
sprawl. Again. She also shoved Asher back because she liked shoving
people and hated him in equal measure. “You really need to punch
him right in the face, just once. He’ll leave you alone then.”
    Jane smiled
uncomfortably. Never mind that she’d been trained not to make a
fuss or embarrass the family name, after last night and her
near-encounter with the Investigator, she needed to keep her head
down even more. “I can’t hit him,” she said for Kiri’s benefit. “He
might like it.”
    “Ew. I never
thought of that.” She smiled, showing a lot of teeth. “But I’m sure
you can fix that by hitting him harder.”
    When the silver
bell rang, the novices took their positions. The Oracles lined up
on the left, approaching the small shrine. There was a candle, a
bowl of water, and a basket of star anise seeds which they gave out
along with their omens. The Collegium thought it a nice gesture,
something symbolic for the Elysians to hold on to, but they just
used the seeds for stomach tea. Kiri went to the right, digging her
hands in a large wide bowl of earth to awaken her numen. They found
each other again on the train.
    Elysium City
was grey and blue today, the light glinting off black water
flooding between some of the buildings. Bridges connected windows
high up above the submerged streets. It made Jane dizzy just to
think about crossing them, swaying in the wind with nothing but
rope to hold you up. She turned back to Kiri who was pouring mint
tea into china cups. There were candied violets and the maple cakes
usually reserved for Festival days. Jane ate three cakes.
    The mood inside
the City was dark. Jane felt it like a stain on the skin. She
pulled the veil of her chiton up over her head like a hood. Faces
were never covered outside the cella, there were too many security
restrictions. Still, it helped a little. She held onto the bench of
the wagon as they began the last part of their journey. The
Blessing wagons were different than the ones used for transport in
the Enclave; these were painted azure-blue with elaborate
scrollwork and bells along the edges. They were festive and
cheerful, calling the Elysians to follow them into the bright and
beautiful Rings.
    Line-ups had
already formed at the crossroads outside the Cella. A tree grew
around a column and Elysians left behind votive tokens like tin
cans shaped into leaves and torn fabric strips knotted for good
luck. It had its own kind of roughshod beauty. Jane remembered
reading about Clootie trees in Ireland that served a similar
purpose.
    Each novice was
assigned a soldier in a metal leaf mask and hers was young enough
to still have pimples. She sat on the stool he set out for her, and
took out the gold slotted spoons shaped like leaves from her pouch,
along with the bone straw. The blue silk smelled like star anise,
that licorice sweetness that clung to all Oracles. She had a glass
jar filled with water and crushed cranberries but inside the cellas
they used real blood or the ashes of dead Oracles.
    When the
Elysians approached her for a reading, she stepped out of her
sandals and stood on a mound of earth to awake her numen. She tried
not wonder if the tingle at the back of her neck would build into a
crushing pressure, into burning and pain.
    Jane
concentrated on the miniature stories unfolding in her hands. The
spoons were a tool, like tarot cards and tea leaves—simply a way to
find the pattern in the chaos. She fit them together, and used the
straw to blow a spray of liquid through a small hole. When she
pulled the leaves apart again, she deciphered the stain of red left
behind. Otters were for joy, swans for deceit, horses for