Ember awoke at the crack of dawn to the chattering of an unfamiliar animal. She sat up on the small dorm mattress, rubbing her head. Her first thought was of her father, and then the memories of the previous night came back steadily, each one more unbelievable than the last. A wave of panic washed over her, making her hands tremble against the sheets. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

She stared at a spot on the wall until she could breathe again. The night before, the headmaster had dropped her off at the unaffiliated dorms after insisting that she have her own room. She’d fallen asleep instantly, curling around her bag for comfort.

For the first time, Ember took a good look at the dorm room in the light. Like the rest of Mendel, it was utterly foreign: the floors were soil, the windows were cracked open, and the wooden panels of the walls were supported by the trunks of living trees and covered with crawling vines. A large green beetle scuttled up the wall, pausing to investigate a patch of lichen. Ember sighed—her new living arrangements were going to take some getting used to.

A soft knock sounded at her door. She slid off the bed slowly, fearing more bad news, and slid back the bolt.

Standing in the doorway with his fist poised to knock again was a young man about her age. He was her height except for two large, furry ears that sprouted from his shock of red hair. A bushy, white-tipped tail swished behind him. He grinned good-naturedly, displaying a set of long and thin canines. “Hello.”

“Hi…” Ember said, looking at him cautiously. “Who are you?”

“I’m Carn. I live on the third floor,” he pointed. He pushed a pile of clean sheets and blankets into her hands. “I’m here to help you get settled in. Do you have any clothes?”

“…Yes, I brought some from home.”

“Great, then I can show you where you can clean off!”

“I’m okay,” Ember said awkwardly. “I’ll just stay in my room.”

Carn tilted his head, and Ember was reminded of a farm dog. “No offense, but you stink.”

Her face reddened. “Fine!”

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Ember followed Carn out of her room and into the dorm hallway. He padded silently over the soil and leaves, making Ember’s footsteps sound terribly loud in comparison. He wore no shoes, and his entire manner of dress was different than that of Ciradyl: instead of a tight, ill-fitting uniform, he wore flowy and muted linens that allowed space for his mutations.

Unable to bring herself to speak, Ember focused on his tail, which swayed back and forth as he walked. It was a quiet and still morning, and only a few Linnaeans wandered through the halls, some keeping their heads down and others whispering good morning to Carn. Unlike in the city proper, most of them had few, if any, visible mutations.

“Carn?” she asked quietly, “How are the students divided?”

He grinned again, seeming genuinely delighted that she had spoken. “The UD—upper division, also known as the university—has eight dorms, one for each of the seven classes: vermes, insecta, pisces, amphibia, aves, mammalia, reptilia, and the unaffiliated.”

“Vermes….” Ember trailed off, trying to remember what she had learned at Wentworth. “Worms, right?”

“Yes and no. It’s one of the classes that is becoming defunct as Professor Corax and his researchers discover new species. Reptilia is also a new addition.”

She looked at Carn curiously. “You said you lived here, right? But you’re clearly some type of mammal.”

“A red fox, to be exact,” Carn affirmed. “I’m on my way out. The mammalia dorms are really big, and there’s a separate section for felines and canines. We couldn’t tell which one I was for a while.”

As Carn spoke, Ember couldn’t help but watch his sizable canines, which tucked nicely over his jaw and only just poked out from underneath his upper lip. “I’m sorry to bring it up, but your mutations are so tidy. I traveled here with a… bear, I suppose, and her teeth cut through her mouth.”

He laughed. “I’m lucky. I came here early in my development, like you, and they gave me a low dose to slow down my mutations. When our bodies have enough time, they can adjust to the changes. They also gave me a retainer.” He opened his mouth, pointing at a wire that wrapped around his canines to keep them in place. “But still… I have a lot of fur in uncomfortable places.”

Ember’s mouth dropped open at his crudeness. “When will I start the treatment?” she asked, redirecting the conversation to safer territory.

“You should meet with the registrar secretary soon, preferably today, and he’ll assign you to an advisor. But don’t worry, mutations don’t happen overnight.” He paused in front of a door. “All right, here are the bathing pools. It was nice to meet you, Ember. I’ll come and find you later.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

He waved good-naturedly, disappearing around a corner before Ember could gather her thoughts. She shook her head and pulled open the door, immediately hit by a warm blast of humid air. Dubiously, she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the bathhouse.

It was a long and low room, situated lower in the ground than the dorms. The ceiling was comprised of interlocking wooden pieces, and Ember realized after a moment that she was inside the root system of one of the giant trees.

Clear spring water bubbled at her feet and stretched forward for at least thirty feet, shallow at the ends and deeper in the center. She pulled off her boots and stepped gingerly onto the first stone step, scaring up a small group of minnows. Her reflection wavered on the surface of the water, a haggard version of herself with tired green eyes and matted brown hair.

After double-checking that no one was around, Ember stripped off her travel-stained clothes and settled into the warm water. It washed luxuriously over her skin, easing her sore muscles and bruises. She exhaled, closing her eyes.

She was on the verge of a nap when the calm shattered. Something exploded from the water, dousing her head and shoulders. Ember leaped backward, pushing herself against the stone and holding out her hands to ward off the danger.

“Sorry!” a woman exclaimed. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here!”

Ember crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. The woman appeared to be around her age, but patches of a grey and rubbery substance that coated her skin made it difficult to be sure. She was small in stature and completely bald, with an elongated jaw and tiny teeth. Unbelievably, she’d been underwater for at least ten minutes.

Still watching the woman, Ember lowered herself back into the water. “I’m sorry, it’s my first time here.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Eases the itch.”

Ember nodded vaguely, unsure of what itch she was referring to. She averted her gaze slightly, staring at a patch of darker stone and planning her escape.

“It’s okay to stare,” the woman commented. “I know it’s unusual to see a Linnaean like me.”

“Erm… I haven’t seen many Linnaeans at all.”

“You’re probably thinking that I should be in the pisces dorm, but the headmaster suspects I might be some sort of aquatic mammal on account of me not having gills. So I’m waiting to be transferred.”

“Uh huh,” Ember said, shifting backward. She found the woman’s voice annoyingly shrill and grating, like the sound of glass being scratched by a sharp metal object.

“Have you seen-”

“I’m actually just finishing up here,” Ember cut in, rushing out of the pool and pulling on a set of fresh clothes from her backpack. “I’ll see you around.”

Ignoring the woman’s protests, she pushed back through the curtain and the door, reentering the hallway without even drying herself off. Linnaeans are so… odd, she observed, they each have a unique way of making you feel uncomfortable.

Still, Carn had been right—she did feel fresher, now, and more prepared to take on whatever the city might throw at her. She remembered what he had said about the secretary and tied up her wet hair, strengthening her resolve: it was time to go onto campus.

***

“Name?” the secretary asked, looking at Ember with bright orange eyes. His long, black and white banded tail draped over the desk—which appeared to be a particularly large mushroom—and onto the floor next to Ember’s boots.

“Ember Whitlock, sir.”

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

“Species?”

“Uhh…” she paused. “Unknown?”

“That’s okay.” He set down his notepad, his long and thin fingers drumming on the desk. “Why don’t I register you for some general education courses? Biology, history, and habitat analysis?”

“That’s fine,” Ember replied. She’d taken similar classes at Wentworth, but she had a feeling things would be very different in Mendel.

“Great. That leaves room for one elective.”

Ember stared at him blankly. “I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Mhm. It will have to be something non-species-specific. Registration closed yesterday, so space is limited, but there are some classes that still have a slot: campus management, moss gathering, plant architecture, and intro to terrestrial combat, to name a few.”

“Campus management sounds okay,” Ember said, struggling to follow his words. “When will I be matched with an advisor?”

“I’ll assign you to Professor Bloomberg, but there’s no need to meet until you start developing symptoms, or until mid-term, whichever comes first. I’ll save you from the start-of-term rush and have someone from the unaffiliated dorm deliver your materials. Here’s a copy of your schedule, and some campus resources in case you need any help. The semester starts in one week.” He pushed a page of his notebook and a leaflet across the table, bearing his teeth in a wide smile. “Good luck, Ember.”

Reeling from all of the new information, Ember ducked out of the registration office and onto the wide path. Ahead was the campus proper, a sprawling miniature city that encompassed the underground, the surface, and the airspace. It was relatively quiet since it was still early in the morning, with only a handful of students out exercising.

Like the rest of Mendel, the campus thrummed with animal life, and a handful of curious squirrels and gliders approached her as she trekked up the main pathway. No building was quite alike, each built to the preference of different species. There were heavy stone halls; mud dens built high in the air, accessible only by wing; wide nests strung between branches; mounds of dirt and clay with tiny openings; orbs woven from silky thread, and all a manner of other peculiarities.

Ember had the sense that she wouldn’t be able to see it all even in four years of study. All of Ciradyl’s ‘innovation’ that stained the sky black paled in comparison.

Maybe this is what it means to be Linnaean… I wish my father could see this.

For the first time, Ember thought that it might not be so bad if she were afflicted after all.