Free Beautiful Blue World by Suzanne LaFleur

least one story high.
    “Welcome to Faetre,” Miss Ibsen said.
    —
    Two soldiers stood at the gate.
    “Miss Ibsen,” one greeted her. “Another one?”
    “Another one!”
    “We need more?” the other soldier teased.
    “We do.”
    “Won’t we be full to bursting?” They were like the soldiers on the train—not at all serious.
    “Nonsense. There are still rooms to spare,” she answered as they waved her through.
    If there were still rooms to spare, then why had the Examiner been so insistent that she didn’t want Megs to come?
    “We don’t like the security to look too tight,” Miss Ibsen said. “Not from the air, anyway. There are more soldiers here than just them, don’t worry.”
    Was that a reason not to worry? Or a reason
to
worry? Was this a known military base? A secret place?
    I thought of a safer question as we pulled along the side of the impressive building: “How many rooms are there?”
    “One hundred forty!”
    “Really?”
    “Originally, this was the summer house of a baron, and then it was a boarding school. It’s ours now.”
    We rode to stables around the back. Another soldier handed me my suitcase as I hopped down from the cart, and took over the pony.
    “Come along,” Miss Ibsen said to me. I followed her to the main entryway, which she opened with three different keys. She held the door open, and I stepped inside into the pitch-dark.
    Miss Ibsen followed me inside, shut the door, and rebolted all the locks. Then she lit a match and a candle from the hallway table. “Best save my flashlight for when I’m outside.”
    The tiny flame illuminated a large foyer with hallways and rooms leading off in several directions, and a grand staircase. The great windows to the front of the house had been covered with black curtains.
    “So aerials can’t see us at night,” she explained. “Though we tend to have rather quiet nights around here. It’s just a precaution. This way.” She led me through the largest archway off the foyer. We walked toward a large, open living room, which also had black curtains over its two-story windows, though it was brighter because of a lit electric light on a side table. The room contained clusters of comfortable chairs around both low and high tables, and all the tables were set with board games. Miss Ibsen paused in the doorway.
    A head of shoulder-length light brown hair peeked over the back of one of the sofas.
    I followed Miss Ibsen around to the front of the sofa.
    A girl my age was sitting there.
    “Annevi!” Miss Ibsen said. “What are you doing up?”
    “I had an idea.” She didn’t look up from her board game.
    “You couldn’t think about it in your room?”
    “I needed the board.”
    I stiffened. What was the punishment for being out of your room at night?
    “Solve anything?” Miss Ibsen asked, warm curiosity rather than sternness in her voice.
    Annevi shook her head. Disappointment and slight frustration crossed her face. But not shame or fear.
    “Try again in the morning. Maybe your mind will solve it in your sleep.”
    Annevi nodded, though she didn’t seem sleepy. She stood, but kept her eyes on the board. She reached out and moved a couple of pieces.
    “Come upstairs with us. This is Mathilde.”
    “Hi,” Annevi said, though she didn’t even look at me. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see a new girl showing up at nearly dawn.
    “The light, Annevi.”
    Annevi switched off the electric light.
    We proceeded upstairs, and up some more stairs to the third floor and a corridor lined with doors.
    “Good night, Annevi. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
    Annevi disappeared behind one of the doors.
    “We’re putting you just a few doors down, along here.” Miss Ibsen opened another door on the opposite side.
    I stepped into the tiny room and looked around.
    I’d assumed I’d share sleeping quarters—if we slept inside at all—but there was a single, unoccupied bed; a desk; a window with its own heavy black curtain; and