Ember folded her last jacket, tucking it into the corner of the box that held the belongings she had accumulated during her first four months in Mendel. Her backpack lay nearby, stuffed with her schoolbooks and the few clothes she had brought from Ciradyl.

She reached across to her nightstand, wrapping her fingers around the wooden star that had lain there since the first night she had spent in the unaffiliated dorm. She held it up to her nose, though it had long lost the scent of the house she had shared with her father. A familiar feeling of guilt blossomed in her chest. I’m trying to reach you, I promise.

Sighing, she tucked the star into the backpack and shouldered it, groaning under the weight. Her friends had offered to help her, but she had declined, knowing that they were busy enough studying for their exams. Besides, her melancholy at leaving the unaffiliated dorm was something she preferred to keep to herself.

She stood up, balancing precariously between the heavy box and the backpack, and turned back one last time. The details of the little room were already committed to memory: the vines climbing across the wooden panels, the oak sapling that had sprouted near the window, and the smattering of ash where she had dropped a candlestick. She took a deep breath, letting the door close behind her. Goodbye.

The mile-long walk to the reptile dorm was not an easy one. Knowing she was sensitive to the weather, she had bundled herself in fur, but the crisp morning air still numbed the tips of her ears. The heavy box left red grooves in her forearms and made her biceps quiver, but she took pride in the fact that she could not have carried the load for even a hundred yards when she had first arrived in the city.

She found the reptile dorm just as she was questioning Bloomberry’s directions. The complex was more compact and subtle than the mammals’, consisting of a three-story wooden cabin with a series of smaller offshoots. A massive banyan tree stood in the center, enshrouding the buildings with its hanging roots. Tree houses lay in the fork of its branches, and sections of its bark had been covered by tarps, presumably to protect it from the upcoming winter frost. A natural spring gurgled nearby, surrounded by the sound of distant voices.

Ember shifted the box of her belongings to one hip, freeing up a hand to knock on the door to the main hall. After a moment of shuffling, it swung open to reveal a tall, heavily-muscled man.

She instinctively took a step back. The man exuded the confidence of an apex predator. His hands were clawed, his skin was armored with grey scales, and a thick tail trailed behind him. He smiled in greeting, revealing bulky, pointed teeth. “You’re the viper? I’m the reptile dorm’s prefect, Elliot,” he said.

Ember met his gaze. The look in his bright-yellow eyes and slit pupils suggested a cunning that contradicted his brawny appearance. He’s a fighter. “What’s your species, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Alligator,” he rumbled, and Ember was reminded of the massive creature she had seen while rafting on the Lion’s Tail River. “I’ll take your belongings,” he offered, pulling the box out of her hands as if it weighed nothing. “Follow me.”

Ember shook her head, trying to refocus as they stepped into a long and narrow hallway. It was unexpectedly dark inside; there were no windows, and the only light came from a few flickering lanterns. Like in many of Mendel’s buildings, the first floor consisted of soil with a layer of leaf litter.

They walked in single file, with Elliot pointing out the doors that led to the washroom, the mess hall, and the small library. Ember’s eyes adjusted quickly, and she examined each new room with interest. They were hardly lavish, but they were well-maintained, and they had been designed with reptilian instincts in mind— there were lofts for climbing, pods for studying alone, and even a humid basement to assist with shedding.

At a twist in the hall, Elliot stopped, pushing open a door to a large, open room. A handful of Linnaeans lounged across armchairs and on pillows, basking in the light from a series of large windows. Several of them were accompanied by their reptilian companions, including a watermelon-sized tortoise and a green iguana.

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“This is the common area,” Elliot explained. At the sound of his voice, most of the reptiles looked up, peering at her with curious, sleep-filled eyes.

A man peeled himself up from his spot beneath a ray of sun, making his way haphazardly toward Ember. Like Elliot, he was well-developed: his face was sharp, his skin was covered in brown and black scales, and his body had more muscle than fat.

Ember stood up straighter, suddenly on high alert. He was, undoubtedly, a snake.

“Thisss the new girl?” he slurred, his tongue flicking out as he tasted the air. A couple of the other reptiles followed, crowding around her like she was a fresh new commodity. Their tall frames leaned downward as they appraised her, and her hand inadvertently drifted to the handle of the fang knife.

“That’s enough,” Elliot said, sticking his arm out to block the other Linnaeans’ access. He whirled Ember around, guiding her back into the hallway. “You’ll have to excuse them,” he explained. “It’s been a long time since someone has joined our dorm. We reptiles tend to conceal our mutations until we’re forced into the open.”

Ember nodded, remembering hearing something similar from Corax. “I looked into your history after the chicken told me you were coming,” Elliot added. “Your scores will be good motivation for the other students.”

She shrugged, saved from replying as he started up a narrow staircase. “Bloomberry told me to place you in the main building for monitoring, but I assigned you to a single room. He may not understand, but I do—reptiles don’t like to share.”

Ember smiled for the first time. “Thanks.”

They passed a row of doors, each one marked with a name. The walls were decorated with various medals and report cards from the dorm’s current occupants and alumni. Ember paused at a framed newspaper clipping, reading the headline: Elliot Calhoun debuts, jumping thirty ranks.

She whipped around, looking at the prefect. “You’re a ranker?”

“Yes,” he replied, regarding her curiously.

She fell silent, locked in an internal debate. The wooden star seemed to burn a hole in her backpack, a reminder that she was basically no closer to contacting her father than on the night that she had spoken with Orthus. She stepped forward tentatively. “Help me,” she said, struggling to say the words. “Let me train with you, just until my evaluation in eleven days. Please.”

He inclined his head with a slightly amused expression. “And I was worried you wouldn’t fit in. I suppose each one of us has a reason to fight.”

She swallowed, surprised that he had seen through her. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “I won’t ask why. You can train with me, but I won’t slow down for you.”

“Thank you,” she said, almost overcome with relief.

Elliot shrugged, turning away and taking a few more paces down the hall. He stopped in front of another door, pulling it open for her to step inside. “This is your new room,” he said, placing her box of belongings on the straw mattress.

It was a surprisingly comfortable space, tidy and just slightly smaller than her previous room. In addition to the mattress, a desk, a chair, and a washbasin had been arranged with space in mind. Fluffy-looking ferns sprouted between the log supports, and a family of sparrows had made their nest in the rafters. They were ironically reminiscent of the tyrant flycatcher that had almost fallen prey to her instinct.

She looked out of the open window, noticing that she had been placed on the third floor. Below, the path to campus was just visible through swathes of greenery, and if she leaned forward far enough, she could reach the nearest tree limb.

“Already thinking of escaping?” Elliot asked with an undercurrent of humor.

Ember’s face reddened. So he knows about the incident with the rogue. “I- I would never.”

The prefect smiled slightly. “In all seriousness, the rules are mostly common sense. Curfew is at twelve AM on weeknights. Stay on the treatment, no parties, no fires, and no sparring indoors. Breakfast is at eight. I start training at six, so don’t be late.”

“I’ll be there,” Ember said, grateful that he hadn’t forgotten.

“Good,” he said, giving a small wave. “I’ll let you settle in.”

Ember flopped back on the mattress the moment the door closed behind him. She could hear faint voices downstairs, undoubtedly discussing her arrival. So much for laying low.

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, suddenly sheepish at her own boldness. Tomorrow… I train with a ranker.