Legacy to Zero

5: The Suspect Has Escaped (For Now)

Harlow

I was under the impression that running away from everything I knew would be easier the second time around.

The reality was that the first time I'd done this, I was running away from home—from the grasp of its lies. And I'd had nothing to bring with me. Nothing to take care of—nothing to pack tight into a bag, and nothing to regret.

The reality was that the polytechnic had become my home. And even now, reduced to a parasite in its walls, I couldn't bear to leave.

I sat on the floor of my residence building, pressing my palms against the cold wooden grain. Running through the nonexistent options in my mind, which was moving so fast, in three dozen directions, having parted ways with logic a while ago.

I tugged the fabric of my cloak, which doubled as my bag—the hood had long strings to cinch it closed—and it always vacuumed more inside of its tiny surface area than it seemed able to. Unclasping it, I checked the contents for what I knew was already secure on the inside; clothes, toiletries, and vials of camomile and mint leaves for my power.

Glueing my tongue between my teeth, I shoved the cloak away from me. My aunt had woven it. It was the only remnant I had from my past—when I left, it was the one thing that had truly been mine.

Wearing it would be too... I don't know. Too much.

I plucked at the edges of my fingernails, having chewed off practically all traces of white. Stared at the crumpled, broken swan in front of me like I was seeing through time, seeing myself. As if the cloak was alive, a marionette that would swoop for my neck, dragging me back into the circling shadows.

I squeezed my eyes shut, reopening them once I shifted the cloak elsewhere. It had taken a surprisingly long time to clean out the boxes and clothes—the life I'd spilled everywhere, embedded in the cracks in the floor and had to scrub out.

But now it was empty. Just a bed in the corner, in the dim semidarkness cast by the blue and black swirl of the curtains. Prismatrix had swept through it yesterday, and that was where I'd stayed—tucked in the corner, trying not to sneeze from the dust.

The sorcerers will be back, though, when they figure out I haven't left campus.

I pushed at my cuticles with my thumb. Come up with a plan. A way out of this.

There had to be a mistake. A loophole, as Lars would have called it.

I got to my feet and hesitated by the window, crouching with my elbows against my knees to see outside. My view faced the back of campus, where the grass had been stamped down like a wax seal. On the other side of the twisting pathways, connecting raised platforms stretching onward. Trills of magic ebbed underneath it.

"Help me out, for once," I whispered to her, sighing.

Satisfied there were no sorcerers, I flattened the curtain back into place. Took a few steps towards the door and inched out into the hallway.

I lived in the same residence building as Lars—though in a wing closer to the corner. The building was longer than it was tall, spanning three floors and holding hands with the other residences through a series of tunnels.