I avoid this room because others attempt to make the place look like a real academy common room. Sure, there're sofas and tables and even a fridge, but no TV. No internet. No real world.
The cream-painted walls are bare, apart from small inked graffiti close to the bottom in one corner. I sit at an oak table and stare in disbelief at the half-finished jigsaw picture of a mountain scene. A girl from my art class, Gina, tries to strike up a conversation but I don't bite. Disgruntled, she returns to her friends and continues their inane chatting.
Once-over, big-headed Matt would've loved the girls obviously talking about him.
Not this Matt.
Ryker arrives an hour later, and I glare as he pulls out a chair and sits opposite me.
“Did you get your privileges this week?” he asks.
Privileges. Our once a week request for something from the real world—anything not contraband or capable of stimulating magic energy. “I always do. Amelia sends me something every week.” I don't stay out of trouble because I want the junk food she packages in small boxes and sends; I stay out of trouble so I can read the letters she adds.
“Sweet.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wish I had a girl waiting for me outside.”
“When are we going to talk about this?” I rub the back of my neck. I'm constantly on edge until I get my answer, one way or another.
He shifts his chair around, so his back is to the group playing a loud poker game behind, gambling with counters from the board game some idiot thought we'd want to play. “What would you agree to use your magic for?”
“Not getting into shit like this place, because next time I could land myself inside Nighthold,” I retort. “But I will do anything to stay with Amelia and keep her safe.”
He moistens his lips. “Even if that means going against the Confederacy?”
Every muscle in my body tenses. This is a trick. “I'm not prepared to work for the Dominion,” I whisper and make to stand. “Find some other idiot.”
“That's not what I'm suggesting. This is about freedom to be yourself. Sit.”
“I thought we weren't talking about this publicly?” I lower myself into the seat.
“I thought we had more time. There's a new kid arriving in a couple of days and that's our chance.” He smirks, which is something I've never seen him do. “There’ll be a boat.”
Have I misjudged Ryker? The cliché 'never trust the quiet ones' once annoyed me because all the 'quiet ones' I know are trustworthy. But him?
“You seem to know a lot,” I say, increasingly confused why we're having this conversation so publicly.
“Enough to tell you there's a way out of here if you want to take it.”
“In return for what?”
“Like I said, help us. You’ll have freedom from people who don't appreciate your magic. A place to grow your skills.” What I ached for when I was at the academy, but I waver. This has to be Dominion led. “To be with Amelia.”
And that reality overrides everything.
I slump back in my seat and run a hand across my head. “But how? Even if we escaped, how can we be safe? Someone would look for us.”
His eyes widen and he waves a hand indicating I lower my voice, but the loud conversation behind us covers our words. “Like I said, we can help you. You just need to help us.”
“How?”
Ryker taps his fingers on the table. “We have enemies and want to protect ourselves. You can help.”
“Is this a family feud? Because I'm not getting involved.”
“Not exactly. Matt—I'm offering you a way out. You know that nobody leaves here.”
“They do,” I retort.
“For Nighthold prison—or wherever the hybrids went. C'mon. Everybody here threatens the balance in our society. Why would Confederacy risk letting any student here back into the world?”
I moisten my dry lips. “So, it's true? When people leave, they're taken to Nighthold? Is that where Dorian Blackwood and the others went?”
“That's what the authorities want you to believe.” He shakes his head. “He's not our concern. Sleep on it, but you've two days to decide.”
Two days?
“With us, you won't ever need to run from people again, Matt, and Amelia can join you.”
I voice my greatest fear. “Yeah? And what if you use this help as a hold over me? I'm desperate, but not dumb.”
He cocks his head. “You're powerful, Matt. Potent. With Amelia you'll be stronger. Could we restrain you? No. You've had a taste of the magic you're capable