When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him out of the apartment, and they were lucky enough to run into a man with a gun who was nice enough to shoot the lizard until it died.

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chances of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Jack in (but who did Jack replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just enough, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Jack and Sara and Aria and Bran and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Jack at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Jack has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade and ruby bracelets for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, and Japanese (thank you for that, Angie) he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Jack taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known. 

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chance of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Jack in (but who did Jack replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just enough, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Jack and Sara and Aria and Bran and the rest of their enclavemates and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Jack at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Jack has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade and ruby bracelets for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, and Japanese (thank you for that, Angie) he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Jack taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known. 

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chance of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Zed in (but who did Zed replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just enough, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Zed and Sara and Aria and Bran and the rest of their enclavemates and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Zed at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Zed has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade and ruby bracelets for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, and Japanese (thank you for that, Angie) he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Zed taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known. 

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chance of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Zed in (but who did Zed replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just enough, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Zed and Sara and Aria and Bran and the rest of their enclavemates and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Zed at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Zed has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade and ruby bracelets for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, Japanese (thank you for that, Angie), and Zulu (and thank you, Zed) that he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Zed taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known. 

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chance of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Zed in (but who did Zed replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just that little bit more, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Zed and Sara and Aria and Bran and the rest of their enclavemates and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Zed at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Zed has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade and ruby bracelets for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, Japanese (thank you for that, Angie), and Zulu (and thank you, Zed) that he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Zed taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known. 

When Alex and Angie were five years old their mother was killed by an enourmous lizard. Alex stabbed it in the eye with one of her knives, and Angie took his hand and dragged him into a tall cupboard where they hid for a day and a half, until their mom's roommate got home and, being in possession of a gun, shot the lizard until it stopped twitching.

They spent two months with a foster family in Chicago before they finally tracked down their mother's family, being assaulted every other day by spiders and mosquitoes and a couple weird gross rats that one of the older boys killed for them and then took off to do something sinister with. Uncle Ned collected them as soon as he knew, bringing them home to Montréal where they then proceeded to learn what actually killed their mom, that she'd been keeping it a secret from them for their own safety, and that in nine years they would either be sent to a horrible death school with apparently a 1 in 4 chance of coming back, or not be sent and be almost guaranteed to die. 

Alex would learn over the next few years that, actually, enclavers like him and his sister had a much higher rate of survival in both circumstances, which would never not burn him a little, thinking about some kid out there who'd have a 25% chance of living inside while he had a 40% chance outside. 

At least he'd gotten Zed in (but who did Zed replace-)

Of course, all that moral anguish went out the window, when he found out about Angie's attempts to convince their uncle to trade her slot to someone else, to let her stay behind. Alex knows, he knows, without a doubt, that without him Angie won't be one of those lucky 40% of enclaver kids who make it to 18 outside the Scholomance. He also knows her chances inside aren't as good as his - tiny Angie, who eats exactly little enough to stunt her growth just that little bit more, who can run like the wind but can't fight her way out of a paper bag, who is terrified of small spaces and can't breathe if she's stuck indoors and hateshateshateshates being trapped. 

But four years of misery is worth it for the chance he can keep her alive. And he is going to keep her alive. Her and Zed and Sara and Aria and Bran and the rest of their enclavemates and himself, because he can't do it if he dies, of course. And maybe, if he can manage it, if he has the mana and the resources and the time to spare, some other kids, any and all other kids, who will let him. That's what an affinity like his is for, after all. 

12:58 am on the night of the Induction, Alex stands next to Angie, Zed at their back, and meets his uncle's gaze solemnly. Angie has most of his gear, and Zed has most of the rest, and all he's carrying are the clothes on his back, a pair of knives for emergencies before he meets back up with them in the Cafeteria, a small med kit for if those emergencies get serious, his spellbook, his power-sharer, homing necklace, and his jade-strung belt for mana storage, and the protective, enchanted earrings Angie and their aunt Catherine worked so hard on for him. He's fasted the past day, and drank only enough water to be on the edge of dehydrated, and he's ready as he's ever going to be. 

He also carries in everything in his head, of course. The English, French, Latin, Spanish, Japanese (thank you for that, Angie), and Zulu (and thank you, Zed) that he and his sister share. A passel of memorized spells, some of which he created himself, most of which they inherited from the enclave, one or two of which Zed taught them. A skill with words that'll stand him in good stead in the Creative Writing track. That determination to get them all out alive. The distant dream, briefly thought of and hastily stuffed away, that maybe, once they've made it, they can use their hard-earned skills to change things.

And he has a nausea tablet handed to him by their uncle, and a quiet encouraging word, and a sick yank in his stomach as they're taken away from all they've ever known.