Charlotte Owens screwed her eyes shut and tried to remember. She tried to remember anything of a life that had existed before she had arrived at Kingston Academy. Tendrils of memories fluttered before her like ghosts of a dream. They were just too far from her reach for her to grasp, too faded and beaten down to reveal anything she didn't already know.
She opened her eyes, straining to see against the light of the dying sun, to find the one precious memory she did have, floating out upon the ocean.
A white ship glinted as it moved, bobbing on the ocean's gentle swell. It was her only memory of life before Kingston. Yet even that was only a wistful lie Charlotte told to comfort herself.
It was not a memory. It was a fact. One she had received after her arrival to the island. That ship had delivered her to the island as well. That seemed long ago now. She didn't remember it, but she knew it. And here it came with its latest delivery of young students.
The last ship to the island had arrived three months previous, but it hadn't lingered. It had come to take the final year students away, on to the real world, to fulfil the roles that they had trained for. Those students had left. Spies, interrogators, hunters, guards, assassins and murderers all.
The school bell shrilled, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced at the old leather watch strapped to her wrist and sighed. It was dinner time. If she was late she would be missed and she would be punished.
"Charlotte?" Iseult called from nearby. Charlotte couldn't see her best friend, but she knew she had to leave her hiding spot now. "If you don't come now, Bennett will be waiting for you".
"I'm coming," Charlotte sighed, slipping down from the rock she had been standing on and landing in the tall grass without a sound.
Iseult was right. Iseult was always right and Bennett would only relish in punishing Charlotte for her tardiness. Bennett, the headmaster's heavy-handed lackey, was best avoided at all costs.
With lithe footsteps, Charlotte hurried along the path winding up to the road to the academy. Iseult stood, her sight fixed on the ship moving closer to the island. Her copper-blonde hair glinted in the sunlight, her expression serious. Charlotte looked back too. The inky water glistened beneath the towering cliffs, as the ship drew closer.
"We should go," Iseult said, turning her back on the sea and beginning along the dusty road.
"Do you think Ian will be out of detention by the time we get back?" Charlotte asked.
"With the ship docked? I doubt it". Charlotte met Iseult's light brown eyes, flecked with gold and nodded. Their other best friend, Ian O'Connell, was a liability in the eyes of their headmaster. The truth was that Ian did what he liked and didn't think much of the consequences. He often proclaimed that worrying about the consequences was Iseult's job, not his.
The academy's Old School emerged from behind the trees. It was an imposing structure of pale stone and grey tiles. Both beautiful and eerie, with large, shuttered windows and a high arched doorway.
"What did he even do this time?" she asked. "I mean he's been down there for almost a week now".
"I'm not sure, but Freya Baak said Bennett caught him".
"He loves punishing Ian".
"He loves punishing you too," Iseult pointed out, as they passed into the Old School's gardens.
"He does it because the headmaster allows him to get away with it," Charlotte shrugged.
"Well Elmhirst loves to see you punished too," Iseult sighed.
YOU ARE READING
Altered
Science Fiction'They wore uniform grey, their expression hard and distant, their muscles taut with expectation, as if at any moment they were ready to lead an assault, to carry out orders, to kill, to die. And yet they were. Kingston had trained these children to...
