Remy Herring and the First World

"There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. And if our colonial founders hadn't cut their reign of terror short by shutting the sky, you and your fellow students wouldn't be here. The second half of your final exam is to close the portal you opened, like the brave founders of old."

But, I didn't open anything, thought Remy, twiddling an inkhorn pen in the light of the morning sun between her slender, tawny fingers – as though the dusty textbook she'd read aloud could hear her thoughts or would reply. Then she recalled the rumors surrounding this class. Litany, if any of this were real, we'd all be in trouble.

She didn't see the golden sparks whirling under the enameled desk where she sat with her slippered feet propped up.

A high, plummy voice came from the desk next to Remy's, echoing off the stone walls and vaulted ceilings of the empty classroom, "Would you kindly skip to the part where we ace the exam and move on to Academy?"

That voice belonged to a trim tulip of a girl with nearly every trace of adolescence gone from her peachy, heart-shaped face. The divided, cream-colored skirts of her dress were splayed out on the desk as she lay there, tossing and catching a tennis ball.

Remy didn't look up from the dusty textbook across her cream, wide-leg trousers, but she did point to the steaming mug on the desk beside her friend, "Gonna finish that?"

A rustling of satin and a scandalous tone answered her, "What kind of debutante employs such clipped language?"

A pair of honey-colored braids dangled in Remy's peripheral, and the mug, offered by smooth manicured fingers.

Her chocolate brown curls jiggled as she took the ceramic cup with a grunt of thanks. She leaned back in her oak swivel chair, closed her thick lashes, and savored the rich, nutty aroma. Between sips, her murmur was euphoric, "Oh Viv, how can you waste a drop of this marvelous beverage?"

Vivian merely sniffed in response, and turned in her prim, leather heels to bounce her ball off the arched windows. She never missed a catch.

Remy flinched with each clang from the stained glass. Her steel gray eyes glittered maliciously over her mug, "I wonder how everyone would do on this final without me writing it for them?"

Vivian snatched her ball midair and sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, but I don't want us to spend our last day on this. Can't you make something up so that we can all get our credit and be gone from this tomb of a school?"

Remy didn't answer, swinging her legs off the desk and setting the book down, slurping what had turned out to be a fine hazelnut amaretto blend. The toe of her cream slippers nearly touched the sparkling, gold vortex below.

Vivian leaned forward, catching Remy's gaze, "If you wrap this up before breakfast, we can play doubles. Nathaniel Ambry will be on the courts this afternoon, wanting a rematch, no doubt. And I, being a gracious champion..." Her glossed lips pulled back into something predatory, "Would love to oblige."

Remy felt her features flatten, "That's the worst incentive anyone has offered me in the history of...ever."

Vivian held up her hands, "Alright, fine, I didn't think it through."

"Come on, girlie," muttered Remy, making a gesture as though to compare height and stature between them. "Have ya met me?"

Vivian barked a laugh, braids flicking as she shook her head, "Oh, litany, Rem. First term finishing school was wasted on you."

"Well, be that as it may," said Remy in a higher pitch than before, straightening her posture as if the instructors from first term were in the room. "This text reads as though we already opened a portal."

Vivian arched her plucked, honey-colored eyebrows and mouthed we?

Remy chuckled, retorting with emphasis, "I am pretty sure that didn’t happen. I think I'd know about it if a make-believe portal leapt off the page and into being."

She set the textbook back on her knees and crossed her slippered feet, which, unbeknownst to her, elevated them enough to evade the widening golden whirlpool that peeked out from under the desk. It wasn't bright enough to stand out amidst the morning sun, not yet.

"Alright, Rem, what's the plan?"

"I'll have to depict an event I’ve never witnessed and document how to close a portal even though it's not there," said Remy, twiddling the pen in her non-coffee hand again, a distant part of her wondering how many cups she’d drank by now. She turned back a weathered page in the textbook, absorbed in the smudged script, "Supposedly this requires light-forged invisible armor…how exactly can I describe that?"

Vivian crossed her arms, framed in the light pouring through the arched windows, "You've been making stuff up all term. Why is this any different?"

Remy sighed, absently smoothing her cream camisole, "This time the book doesn't have any illustrations of a portal or invisible armor. If I am to pretend they exist, how do I get it right with nothing to go on?"

Vivian threw up her hands, "None of it exists. Tell me, what role do Splicers play in this make-believe society we’ve been learning about all term? Because, according to this cockamamie class, I am one. Oh, and congrats to you, Rem, aren’t you now a full-time Primer? And what was Tanry again?"

Remy took a long breath before responding, "An Instinctive."

Vivian snorted, a clever light in her viridian eyes, "I can't think of anything more fitting for their made-up class with phony jobs than a fabricated final exam."

A creak from the far end of the room made them both jump. The ornate double doors had cracked open, as though someone was eavesdropping.

Remy hastily snapped the book shut and set it on her chair. She came around the desk and Vivian fell in beside her, the taller of the two, helping block anyone's view.

Technically they were supposed to be taking the final separately...and with an instructor present...and definitely not before class had even started.

But, the potential eavesdropper quickly abandoned all caution, thumping the doors the rest of the way open with their back, both hands occupied holding something.

Vivian recognized her first. "Tanry, we were just talking about you."

Tanry's sharp obsidian eyes narrowed as she entered, but she said nothing, her focus elsewhere. Her wavy, black hair barely budged along her shoulders as she crossed the room slowly with balanced, gentle steps. A yellow-green lizard was snuggled in the palm of her copper brown hands, and she did her best not to disturb it. She was clad in the same cream colors as everyone else in the building, though her personal taste was reflected in a cardigan and skirt ensemble.

Remy relaxed her stance in front of the desk, "Who's your friend?"

"Vengeance, girls," said Tanry, raising her pointed chin. "Sweet revenge is at hand."

The golden glow from under Remy's desk was getting brighter, but none of them noticed. Instead, Remy and Vivian crowded around Tanry to observe and inquire about the lizard, their backs to the desk and what was visibly twirling around it.

"I've been waiting for a nice chilly morning to exact my revenge. Found this little guy soaking up the sun on the veranda," said Tanry, beaming down at it.

Remy frowned, "It's chilly?"

Vivian nudged her friend, "Uh, Rem, that's your fourth marvelous beverage today. Of course you're not cold."

"That many...?"

Tanry cleared her throat.

Viv and Rem snapped their attention back to Tanry sheepishly.

"I assume none of our other classmates have been in here yet?"

The girls shook their heads.

"Excellent," said Tanry, a wolfish grin spreading on her full lips. "Too lazy to get out of bed, as usual. That little milksop, Catia, is going to wake up with this guy skittering around in her small clothes."

"It's hard to keep track of all the snobs," said Vivian, swaying playfully where she stood. "Is that the infamous Rumor Monger or our very own Axe Wound?"

"Axe Wound," said Tanry, shifting her laced-up high-tops. "Remember the squash racket?"

"Oh yeah..."

Remy raised a jittery hand as though class were in session, to which Tanry scoffed, muttering, "You're kidding, right?"

"Sorry...I may have a drinking problem," said Remy, to which Vivian chuckled and glanced around the room bemusedly. "But, Tan, what happens if Catia squishes him?"

Tanry's face blanched.

While Vivian was squinting over at the eerie golden vortex about to swallow Remy's desk.

"I hadn't thought of that," said Tanry with a pause and then a shrug. "She would have to be murdered."

Remy stifled a laugh, "Well, that's fair."

"Uh, ladies..."

A female scream came from elsewhere in the building, perking Tanry and Remy's heads toward the door.

But Tanry drew the wrong conclusions, stamping one of her lace-ups, "No fair, I haven't even made my move on Catia yet."

This time the note of panic in Vivian's voice got their attention, "Rem and Tan, trouble…"

They looked to where Vivian pointed. A whirlpool of crackling golden energy that should have sounded like a miniature tornado, yet didn't make a sound.

Remy's moment of disbelief passed quickly, as the desk took on the golden glow of the maelstrom below it and then fell into nothing – chair, textbook, and all. Only the vortex remained.

Tanry found her voice first, "What in the high litany is that?"

Remy's eyes were wide, "Taking a wild guess...a portal!”

Another yell from somewhere else in the building and the patter of slippered feet on stone hallways.

Tanry goggled from the vortex to Remy, "Are there more?"

While Vivian leaned forward, interrupting Remy’s answer, "Didn't you and I just have a two-person committee about how none of that stuff exists?"

Remy thrust her chin at Viv, "That was before the floor ate my desk."

Then the portal made its first sound. A monstrous roar billowed out that shook the entire building.

"And it gets worse," said Tanry, hands still to her ears.

Vivian shook her head, “I’m going to miss my match.”

More commotion and hollering could be heard throughout the school.

Tan and Viv looked in unison to Rem, "What do we do?"

Remy Herring felt a calmness settle over her like a shawl. Her heart swelled at the thought of facing this with her best friends rather than toiling away alone as she'd done all term – till now. No fake essays or tests. This time it was for real.

"We shut the sky."