The Search for Artemis - By P. D. Griffith Page 0,68

When he made it to the Atrium, however, and looked up at the dome, he realized that the weather too was against him. Rather than finding a sunny, crisp day, the sky was grey, and quarter-sized pieces of snow were accumulating on the edges of the glass panels.

Landon, therefore, resigned himself to spend the day alone and miserable, but he would be sure to attend the Thanksgiving feast at four o’clock. Each of his professors praised the food, saying it was the one time of the year that the kitchen staff went all out to make it special for everyone at the Gymnasium. They even joked about how imperative it was to skip lunch to ensure everyone had enough room to stuff themselves to the gills at dinner.

Landon returned to his room and found it empty. He was glad, since Brock had been shooting him uncomfortable glares ever since the Library incident, and he didn’t want to deal with that on top of the depressing state of his first Thanksgiving experience at the Gymnasium.

As he lay there, his mind went back to the last private session he’d had with Dr. Brighton. He still had a bit of bruising around his ribs, but he welcomed the pain. It was a reminder of what he’d accomplished. The lesson was torturous, but in retrospect, Landon was grateful for what Dr. Brighton had put him through. He still thought about his mother often, which he figured would never change, but now a large portion of the guilt he carried seemed to have washed away.

Feeling the warmth of his abilities surge through his body, Landon rolled over to nap until the feast. As he turned onto his side, he flicked his hand, and the lights in his room switched off.

Around 3:30, someone knocked on his door. It was Riley.

“What are you still doing in here?” he asked, but before Landon could answer Riley was moving ahead with the conversation. “Come on! We need to get to the cafeteria now if we want any chance of having good seats at dinner!”

Landon didn’t question him. He put on shoes and hurried alongside Riley to the cafeteria. When he entered, other students were working their way around the tables to find suitable seats for the feast.

The teachers were right. The staff spared no expense at making Thanksgiving special, and it brightened Landon’s mood. The tables were covered in a long white tablecloth and topped with candles, colorful leaves, and cornucopias that overflowed with tiny pumpkins, random squashes, and a few other miscellaneous vegetables. At the head of the room, the food service area had been replaced by a fifth long table running perpendicular to the other four.

“That’s where all the professors, tutors and scientists sit,” Riley said, answering the question swimming in Landon’s head before he could ask it.

Landon and Riley moved down the second table and found a place. Landon couldn’t really tell why Riley was so keen on arriving early. All the seats seemed just as adequate as the others.

Minutes later, Katie Leigh shuffled into the room, accompanied by a guest, Celia. They headed straight for Landon and Riley the instant they found them amid the growing crowd. Landon was a bit surprised as Celia never ate with them, but he was happy to see her.

“Yeah, Table 2,” Katie Leigh said excitedly after sitting down. “Good choice. Hopefully it pays off.”

“Yeah, I know,” Riley replied with the same excited tone. “This might be the year!”

“What are you talking about?” Landon asked, confused.

“The First Frost Frenzy,” Riley returned with a voice that made Landon think he was supposed to miraculously know what Riley was talking about.

“What’s the First Frost Frenzy?” Landon asked with apprehension.

“It’s only the Gymnasium-wide battle to the death that happens every year after the first big snow storm! The entire student body is pitted against each other, and the winners get serious bragging rights and privileges until the next year. Rumor has it that Dr. Wells will announce which tables will join forces to battle the others tonight!”

“It’s a snowball fight,” Katie Leigh interjected with a nonchalant air of intellectual superiority. “And it’s not to the death; it’s until one whole team has been eliminated. Every year, once there’s enough snow on the ground, Dr. Wells gathers the students to announce the team assignments and the date of the event.

“The teams are set up by grouping tables together. Last year, it was Tables 1 and 2 against Tables 3 and 4. The year before