CHAPTER 29: THE DRAFT - PT. 2

SERICA

Illia and I took our seats stageside, at the backs of the other tacticienne and Deneel, facing the crowd of assembled first-year students.

The rest of our class, forty students of each of the remaining eleven écoles, sat on the stage’s other side, spread across a quarter of its seating. A good number of upperclass students and faculty dotted the surrounding seats to watch the festivities. Aureli had yet to arrive. As the Arts Exploratoire Département Head, the honor of conducting this event fell to her.

Deneel stood out terribly amid the other sharp-dressed tacticienne, her wild orange side-pony bobbing in the light of the Corpusculaire as her head turned to and fro.

Illia gave a soft sigh, drumming her fingers against her knee, waiting for things to begin, "Late as always."

I glanced sideways at her, momentarily distracted from my plotting. Deneel’s ribbons were still brass, another issue, meaning Ainset was working her reins. I’d considered asking her to pass notes for me, but that seemed unlikely. My second option was Brumer, a worthless pair of disembodied legs. Her top was with Cora, up among the combattants. If I could get her attention, I might be able to coax her down here.

Leaning forward, I reached under my seat and brought my leash to my lap. Illia caught it but didn’t raise a fuss, bobbing her head to a rhythmic beat coming from the orchestral pit.

Closing my eyes, I worked my thumbs into the leather and focused on Brumer; her disembodied flaming hips and legs floated closer in my mind’s eye. The whole exercise felt futile; she didn’t seem to register me at all, lazily toeing at the darkness.

A horn’s shrill note pulled my eyes back open, and applause broke through the audience. Aureli climbed the side of the stage, throwing an arm out wide, trailed by her red cape. She hushed the audience, "Thank you, thank you, girls. We’ve quite a task ahead of us; let’s get things moving."

Her movements were confident and poised; she dropped into an explanation of the night’s proceedings as I tried to coax Brumer’s invisible bottom over by will alone.

If I can just yank her toe...

My attempts were useless. Brumer hit a snag a few paces from the stage, and I was not going to leave my seat. Aureli addressed her remarks to the other écoles. All of us tacticienne memorized the rules in years past. Finishing her explanation, she turned to us, "This year, however, there will be a wrinkle."

A murmur rolled over the assembled girls as Aureli let the tension grow. I didn’t hold much hope that it would have a positive impact; the faculty seemed dead set on making things more difficult.

"This comes as a request from Coup de Tonnerre. Upon bonding with her, it came as a surprise that she’s quite fond of word games, and I think it will make excellent practice to see how well you girls think on your feet."

My interest piqued, whatever she was about to drop actually sounded fun.

Why the hell do I have to sit this out?

Aureli continued, "The draft has long struck me as a bore. Each of you arrived with a memorized list, prepared for any contingency. We instead have you submit them ahead of time, and the results would be the same."

Deneel’s head turned, Ainset’s metal eyes were wide, frantic. I tilted my head, trying to beckon her over, but she snapped back to attention as Aureli continued.

"It’s an excellent practice in strategy, not tactics. As such, we’ll be tossing those best laid plans out the window." She bobbed her finger through the air, as if counting, "As you choose your names, first names in particular, pay close attention to their lettering. The last letter of your pick’s first name must be the first letter of the next."

That last sentence nearly drove me into hypnosis, but I thought I had it.

"For instance," Aureli added, "If you pick an Ariel round one, a Lettie will suffice round two. Do we follow?" The question was rhetorical.

"In later rounds, we’ll likely be unable to hold the pattern. In such an event, feel free to choose as you wish. However, if a viable choice remains and you fail to spot it, you will forfeit the pick and sit out any remaining rounds."

We’re fucked.

"Now," Aureli said, "Don’t you all look so dour, this exam will be open book." She set her palm on the lip of the black chalice, "Our first pick will be in fifteen minutes. Once each of you has chosen a bauble, feel free to move about the auditorium."

Their lines broke, and they all rushed the chalice. It took only a moment for the thing to be emptied. Deneel, still decked in Ainset’s brass, rounded back toward me, jogging, as I rose from my seat. I looked to Illia for any sort of pause, which she did not offer, before rushing over to meet them.

"Thirty-four!" came Ainset’s voice.

I winced at the high number but quickly pulled myself together, "Could be worse. You two split for now. I need to talk to Deneel."

Ainset drained from the tassels, and Deneel’s eyes opened, frowning, "What do we do?"

Illia watched with her knuckle set to her lip as I pulled a notebook and pen from my pack, "The list, any name that ends with ’C’, read them off."

At the top of the page, I wrote in capital letters "VIVIENNE ABADIE - BEFORE WE RUN OUT OF V’S!"

I turned to the assembled girls of the École de Design, caught the flash of her round glasses, and gave her a thumbs up as I jotted down the names Deneel read off. Running down the list, I found a couple of respectable first-round picks, Vic and Lyric, which I numbered 1 and 2, respectively, before ranking the rest.

Is it still worth it?

I puzzled my way through the situation. The other three were names I’d seen seen ranked but couldn’t place a face to. They were still widely considered stronger picks than Cora.

"Any of these," I said to Deneel. With that settled, we began ranking our way through the alphabet, starting with E for round three.