Chapter 2

I enter a small room. All four walls are white and it takes my eyes half a minute to adjust. After a few minutes I realise that most of the brightness is coming from the side wall which is in fact a glass window. A plastic sheet covers the window meaning I can’t see out, but the sheet is translucent enough to admit daylight. Big bright oval lights hang low from the ceiling adding to the luminescence of the room, but apart from their presence this room is completely empty. I think flawless is the concept the designer was going for but the white walls remind me of something clinical and the place feels almost too ‘pure’. Now that I think about it, I’ve never been in this part of the school before. I never even knew that this part existed which is strange seeing as I grew up hiding in the cracks and crevices of these buildings.

I stand baffled for a moment, wondering what my next step should be. Should I wait for a sign from the Divine? After allowing my eyes to adjust more, and inspecting the room thoroughly, I realise that the wall opposite me has a vertical black strip down its middle. On closer inspection I realise that this black strip is really a shadow. It suddenly dawns on me that this is not a room; but a corridor. The little black line is the only sign of the existence that the fourth wall is really a set of doors. I scorn myself. How am I supposed to pass the interview if I can’t even make it past the first door? I walk towards the tiny crack in the wall, and when I am only a few steps away, the doors open inward. I go inside.

I enter an office. A large wooden desk takes up half of the small room space. Similar to the hall, this office’s design is of the ‘minimalist’ perspective. Apart from the desk and two chairs, there seems to be little else in this tiny room. That’s a lie. The only reason I’m acknowledging the room’s features is because I am actively trying to avoid eye contact with the person in the room. The man sits behind the desk, his face not telling anything. His dark jacket is a stark contrast to the white walls. Lines fill his otherwise youthful face, although, he does have a full head of grey hair. Does he really have grey hair, or is it part of his fashion statement? I don’t know and I can’t decide if he looks young or old but what I do know is that I’ve seen him before. I scan his desk for any signs that will hint at his identity and I am rewarded with a name placard that sits on his desk. It reads ‘Mr Whickham’. I recognise the name but I can’t quite place it.

The man’s clothing, although a regular dark suit, seems very odd juxtaposed with his luminous surroundings. He manages to look like a figure of death and I can feel the sweat forming beneath my clothes. The man gives me a nod of the head which I take as an encouragement to sit down. I clasp my now sweaty hands together and shove them between my knees in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

The Man smiles at me, but his face is so rigid that it looks like a sneer. He sits slack on his seat and the informality throws me. I am at once cautious of this man. His smile grows, as if he knows something and he is waiting for me to catch on. I keep my face neutral.

“Hello, Miss Smith,” he says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, under better circumstances this time I presume?”

My heart sinks. I can’t place this man but he definitely knows me. There’s only one ‘circumstance’ I can think of that he is referring to, a mistake I made a long time ago, but this greeting almost solidifies the fact that I won’t be graduating. Sarah was wrong, my past actions will affect whether I get a placement today. All I can do now is sit helplessly and hope that the interview is swift and painless.

I nod in response; I don’t want my voice to portray how I feel. The man grunts and the smile fades. He shuffles through his papers and then chucks them on the table as if disregarding them.

“I suppose you want to get on with it then. You want to know whether you get a placement.” He pauses, looking directly a me. “Do you realise how much trouble you’ve caused me?”

Of course, I do, but I decide that it’s better to play dumb.

“No Sir. I’m sorry if I’m an inconvenience.”

He snorts. “An inconvenience is quite the understatement. I have left, right, and centre of the Board telling me not to assign you. Do you know what your past behaviour indicates? They see a rebel, someone more dangerous to our cause than beneficial.”

He squints at me as if looking for something beyond the girl sitting opposite him. I meet his gaze, unflinching and squaring my shoulders. The mention of my past has angered me. Deep down I knew my past was going to hinder my opportunity to graduate, but it annoys me that he is bringing up something that happened three years ago. Surely, it’s time they let it go?

“Are you trouble, Miss Smith?” he asks. My hands sweat and blood races to my head but when I speak, to my relief, my voice is level, calm, and direct.

“I’ve learnt from my mistakes, I have learnt discipline, I have learnt my sense of duty,” I say. “I’m a good student and I can be an even better Cineál.” I should stop there but I hear my voice rising, “…and if you judge me on something silly I did when I was fourteen, well I think that is really unfair and a misjudgement on your part.”

The man laughs at my response and straightens in his chair. His voice takes on a patronising manner which only fuels my frustration.

“That’s what I thought, Miss Smith. You see, the others see your past mishaps as a disadvantage, but I think you have a fight in you that will prove very beneficial towards our cause. You have a fight that I haven’t seen in any other Cineál and god forbid you use it against us.”

Use it against them? I don’t know what he is talking about, but I am silent because I realise that this is the moment he will decide. He just called me a Cineál and that gives me some hope. The chances of me becoming a Cineál seemed small from the moment I stepped into this room, but suddenly I feel so close to it. We prepare for this moment our entire lives, so much so that I haven’t thought beyond what will happen if I don’t graduate. Maybe now I will have to think about the consequences, but something in the way the man is looking at me makes me think that I might just have a chance.

“I have one final question for you,” he says, and my heart leaps. This is it. He looks at me intensely and I fight an inner battle to keep eye contact without flinching. “Do you believe that you are special? Do you think that you can kill the Jacobs?”

I pause, thinking carefully before I answer. “I have all the traits of a Cineál. I am different physically from a human and I honestly believe that this is what I was born to do; this is what I was meant for so in that sense I am special.” I start to twitch then remind myself to sit straight and hold my chin up. “As for the Jacobs, I was born to kill them.” This statement runs fluently off my tongue and I feel a sense of rightness saying it.

“Very well,” he finally says in a monotone voice. “My instinct, as always, has won. You will be coursed as a fully-fledged Cineál. You will get a pack and within it you will find your assignment and placement. Congratulations, you are officially part of our Order.”

The ‘congratulations’ seems less than genuine but I don’t care. I have graduated. Have I really done it? The interview seemed a little too simple, but I push this concern to the back of my mind. Now I don’t have to worry about my future, now I can fulfil my purpose in life. The man stares at me blankly and I realise he is waiting for me to leave. I say, “thank you” and then stand up, almost knocking the chair backwards as I do so. There is a door behind him which I hadn’t noticed before and I presume that is where I am headed.

“Annabelle.” He says my name before I reach the door and I turn slowly to face him. The door seems further away now. “I am doing you a favour, don’t make me regret it. I will be keeping a close eye on you specifically. Any sign of ‘bad behaviour’ and I am pulling you out of this Order completely. Heaven knows what will happen to you then. Any sign and I’ll be watching.”

I nod curtly then walk out of the room leaving the man behind. How dare he question me? Could he not see that I was completely dedicated? The fact that he implied I would screw up angers me more now that my nerves have disappeared. The conversation that just took place is playing over in my mind, but at this moment I can’t come to terms with anything the man said. I am in! Despite my past, I have graduated! No-one expected it, least of all me, but I am going to have my own assignment and my own placement. I am a member of the Order. The man said he would be watching me so let him watch. I am going to be the best Cineál the Order has ever seen. I’ll prove them wrong, show them that there is no means to doubt me.

In the next room I am greeted by a woman. I don’t recognise her at all so she must be an external member of the Order. She smiles at me coldly.

“Well done, you’re one of the few this year,” she says. “Here’s your package. It will tell you everything you need to know about your placement.” She passes me a large orange envelope. “There’s a car waiting outside to take you to your destination when you’re ready.”

I take the package from her and leave without a word. The next hallway takes me to a little alleyway. I see the car parked at the end of the street with its hazard lights on, but I can’t resist; I tear the envelope open, desperate to see where I have been assigned. I skim over the first two pages that contain details about my name and contact information. I also skim past a black and white picture of an old house. Finally, on the fourth page I find what I am looking for and my heart slowly sinks. The letters stand in bold accompanied by a tiny map. The little bear shaped island is unrecognisable and I feel sick to the stomach when I see its name in capital letters printed carelessly beside it.

IRELAND

My placement is in Ireland?