Shiloh starts to protest. Mrs. Bentham holds up her hand. “One of the rules in the Enforcer Handbook is article 2, number 8.” I close my eyes. Do as he or she is told.
“‘A good Enforcer listens to directions and does as she is told.” Got that one. “Anything different, even to the slightest degree, can be the difference between life and death. There is no room for under- or over-service when it comes to safety. Miss Hearns, you are dismissed.”
With tears in her eyes, Shiloh Hearns flips her hair over her shoulder and struts through a row of girls. Everyone is breathless as she goes. It’s not until the door closes that I’m sure I hear her crying.
To say the room is intense would be an understatement.
“Since Miss Hearns answered half the question, I’m sure that you can tell us, Che Lin, what are the three secrets provided to witches?”
Che Lin stands up, right next to me. “Language to understand and speak the words of God. Power from angels. Knowledge of the weaknesses of demons.”
Mrs. Bentham gets this funny look on her face. “Well learned. What are the weaknesses of the demons, Miss Lin?”
Her head held high, she answers. “Expulsion, entrapment, and the sacraments: In—” Che Lin stops suddenly and Mrs. Bentham points at Che Lin to sit. I almost feel the relief wash over her. She smiles at me, like she knows she barely escaped some sudden death, before she looks forward.
“Miriam Dunlap, what are the sacraments?”
Another girl stands. “Incantation, iron, and salt.”
“Why do we fight the demon beasts away with these sacraments?”
Miriam pauses. “Because the demons learned that a witch’s essence was a powerful weapon and we must preserve our lives, for our essence contains the blood of angels?”
The room shifts in the silence. Mrs. Bentham stares at Miriam. “Is that a question or an answer, Ms. Dunlap?”
Miriam swallows so loud I can almost hear across the room. Poor girl.
“An answer, ma’am.”
“Then it would be correct,” she says. Miriam sits down almost immediately. Mrs. Bentham calls another name.
Six girls later, one more dismissed, and the rest of the story of our creation is retold. A war where demons seek angelic-witch blood to gain strength, where they single out Nons to build their army and draw out the witches protecting the Nons. They’re determined to gain access to witches through humans, and God through witches.
“Penelope Grey,” Mrs. Bentham says.
I stand to attention and study her lips. For some reason my whole brain is blanking. Like that time in the third-grade spelling bee when I misspelled “idiosyncrasy” because I was so excited I knew it that I accidentally said z instead of s. This was like that, minus the excitement, and with a lot more at stake than a trophy.
“Who was the original founding member of the Triad, the man God chose to lead his new creation?”
Nope, this is worse than the spelling bee: at least then I knew the answer. What was his name? Ananias Marx was one of the originals, but he wasn’t the leader. Names flash through my head. Jeremiah Hole, Micah Hanley, Jonas Mahoney, Stephen Taylor. Who was the leader? Everyone is looking at me. Oh my God, I can’t fail already. Not on the first day.
“I don’t know,” I say.
All the girls in the room do that annoying “whisper at the same time and no one will hear us even though it’s loud” thing. Mrs. Bentham crosses her arms. “Well, then, Miss Grey, you are dismissed. Mich—”
“Actually,” I start. Now this is weird. I’m pretty sure my brain told my mouth not to say anything. Why am I talking? Mrs. Bentham looks at me; she’s not alone. Too many eyes for me to count join hers, staring at me. This is crazy, but the thought already appeared in my head, and I have to follow through.
“Actually ma’am, the CEASE Squad Handbook, under article 5, number 12C, states that ‘when an agent is responding to a high-stakes intercommunity situation, the agent must always provide accurate information regarding the situation to any member of the community. If the agent deems to forfeit the information due to uncertainty, then said agent may be given admittance to delay an answer while parties seek out an appropriate response to be sought and delivered at a later time in the same day to prevent misleading or misdirecting toward an incorrect answer or solution.’” I pause for a breath. “And this situation, Mrs. Bentham ma’am, would be that case. ”
She crosses her arms. “How so?”
Oh my God, is this working? “Well, I would hate to give an incorrect answer when the correct one is out there somewhere and would only require one to seek it out. It would sort of go against the reason we exist; if we merely made up answers, then more often than not our own kind, as well as the Nons we protect, would surely die.”
I hold my breath, even though I’m not sure how I have any left. I am out of my mind. Mrs. Bentham looks amused, but it passes quickly.
“Have a seat. I expect the answer by the end of the class, and you will prepare for another question.” I pause, and fall into my seat before she can change her mind. I think my body is in shock. “What Miss Grey just did, ladies, is use the negative situation in a positive way, which is exactly what these training classes are for. She thought on her feet, and though it was risky, it paid off. No one else try it.”
I inhale as Mrs. Bentham continues. A couple of girls send me dirty looks, but Che Lin leans over and whispers, “That was brilliant. Everyone calls me Maple.”
I blink. “Like the syrup?”
She pats my hand. “Brilliant.”
I don’t feel brilliant. I feel like I almost lost everything, like my life is hanging on by a thread.
It’s another hour before Mrs. Bentham calls my name again. This time when she asks the question again, I get it right.
Rafael Ezrati.
She asks another question, which I also know, before I sit down. Two hours in, and twenty girls have gone home. I was almost twenty-one. I almost lost everything I’ve ever wanted over a freaking Ninja Turtle. I will not come that close again.
Chapter Five
Ric doesn’t laugh when I tell him the story. “You better name your future kid after the dude so you can’t forget it.”
I step forward. The barista looks at me like I’m boring her, and I order my latte before she waves me off. “I can’t believe I was almost out.”
“This is the one time having no social life works to your advantage,” he says.
I smack his arm. He’s right; I’ve memorized the stupid handbook like it’s a second skin. I think I know more about being an Enforcer than I can remember about my own father—which is sad.
“I can’t believe you lost twenty-seven. Only ten boys went home,” Ric says, straightening his backpack on his shoulders. I brush past him toward the corner booth. This was the longest day ever.
“I should get to work. The Nons don’t stop buying pants just because I’m exhausted. Stay out of trouble,” he says.
I snuggle into the booth after Ric leaves. As soon I sit my phone beeps. Another death covers the home page of the WNN. A witch was attacked by a demon while he mowed his lawn. Demons are growing more powerful every day, and attacks on Nons and witches are increasing. There’s no way that they can up their attacks and not be upping their numbers. It’s not something anyone talks about, but it’s the bedazzled elephant in the room.