The gates of the Chronos Academy didn't look like a school; they looked like the entrance to a god's palace.
Gold-veined marble pillars rose hundreds of feet into the air, and the air itself felt heavy, vibrating with the sheer amount of stored time radiating from the students inside. This was where the children of the elite came to sharpen their claws. Here, they learned how to extract time, how to gamble it, and how to kill for it.
I don't belong here, I thought, my heart hammering against my ribs. I belong in the gutters, scrounging for minutes. These people breathe centuries like it's oxygen.
Valerius led me through the gates, his hand once again clamped firmly onto my elbow. To any outsider, it looked like a powerful man escorting a young ward. In reality, it was a warden leading a prisoner to her cell.
"Eyes down," Valerius hissed, his voice barely a whisper. "Do not look them in the face. Do not speak unless I command it. To them, you are a distant relative from a minor house. If they suspect you are a Zero from the slums, they will tear you apart before I can stop them."
And if they tear me apart, you die with me, I reminded him silently, throwing a sideways glance at his sharp profile.
As we walked through the courtyard, the chatter of students died away. Dozens of teenagers in crisp, silver-trimmed uniforms turned to stare. Their wrist-gauges were made of platinum and pearl, ticking slowly with the confidence of people who had five hundred years to spare.
I felt the golden heat of the stolen crystal pulsing under my skin, hidden beneath the heavy, high-collared coat Valerius had forced me into. It felt like a ticking bomb.
Lord Valerius! A shrill, melodic voice cut through the silence.
A girl with hair as white as snow and eyes like cold sapphires stepped forward. Her uniform was even more ornate than the others, and the gauge on her wrist showed a staggering 900 Years.
"Lady Seraphina," Valerius greeted, his voice turning into a wall of ice. He didn't stop walking.
"We heard there was a breach at your vault tonight," she said, falling into step beside us, her eyes narrowing as they landed on me. "And yet, here you are, bringing a... guest? She smells of the lower sectors, Valerius. Why is she wearing your house crest?"
I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. She knows. She can smell the smog on me.
Valerius stopped abruptly. The air around him seemed to darken, the shadows on the ground stretching toward Seraphina's boots.
"She is my responsibility," Valerius said, his voice dropping an octave. "And in this Academy, my responsibility is your law. Is that understood, or do you need a reminder of what happens when you question my House?"
Seraphina flinched, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Of course, My Lord. I meant no offense."
He didn't wait for her to apologize further. He dragged me toward a massive set of oak doors.
"She's the one to watch," he muttered to me once we were out of earshot. "Seraphina is a Seeker. She can sense time-signatures. If she gets close enough to see that golden glow in your veins, we are both dead."
He stopped in front of a small, iron bound door in a secluded wing of the castle. He pulled a heavy key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock.
"This is your room. You stay here. You do not leave for anything other than the morning trials."
"Morning trials?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What trials?"
Valerius looked at me, and for a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of something that looked almost like pity in his amber eyes.
"The Hunt," he said. "The Academy needs to see where you rank. Tomorrow morning, they are going to release you into the forest with the other initiates. They will try to drain your time. If you lose your gauge, you're out."
"And if I'm out?"
"In this school, 'out' means you go to the Soul Clock," he said darkly. "Where they drain the rest of your life to power the city's lights. So, street rat... I suggest you find a way to use that golden fire in your blood."
He shoved me into the room and slammed the door, the sound of the deadbolt clicking shut echoing like a gunshot.
I stood in the darkness of my new cage, my hand trembling as I touched the cracked glass of my wrist-gauge.
I'm not a student, I realized, a single tear tracking through the dirt on my face. I'm the prey.