Chapter 4.2 The Test

“See you on the other side,” Rowan said to Nelly.

“Break a leg, Barclay,” Nelly responded in kind.

Rowan got up from the bench, gathered her things and walked to meet the woman who called her name.

Melanie, a stout woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a kind face, greeted her with an over‑bright smile. Her eyes flickered to the gym’s dark threshold, then back. She was looking at Rowan with that knowing glance she’d been familiar with all her life.

“Barclay. As in Diane Barclay?” Melanie asked excitedly.

“She’s my mom,” Rowan responded exasperated, although Melanie didn’t pick up on it.

“My goodness, how lucky are we? You know, I’m a Sage, I’ve read all her books. She really speaks to the soul of what it means to be a Sage. To be human, really,” Melanie said, but Rowan had tuned her out.

As they walked to the testing station, Melanie listed Diane’s books, giving Rowan a few thoughts on each. This wasn’t the first time this had happened to her and wouldn’t be the last.

They made it to the testing station when Melanie lit up with excitement.

“I’m testing Diane Barclay’s daughter. Can you believe it? I can’t wait to tell my book club, and my Sage chapter, and my mom,” Melanie suddenly grew serious.

“I’ve got a job to do, don’t I? I apologize. It’s not every day you meet the daughter of a world-famous Sage,” Melanie said trying to save herself.

“No, I get it. It is something,” Rowan responded.

“Now just get into the testing chair and get yourself comfortable while I start the machine,” Melanie instructed.

Rowan’s feet dragged to the exam chair - an innocuous slab of leather that felt like a sacrificial altar. Melanie’s hand shook as she clipped metal nodes to Rowan’s temples. The electrodes sparked, and suddenly a white‑hot pain blossomed against Rowan’s skull. She tried to flinch, but her arms felt glued to the armrests - her own limbs transformed into shackles. “Are you okay,” Melanie asked, “you might feel a little discomfort while the chair calibrates to your signature frequency. Was it bad?”

“Don’t worry,” Rowan whispered. “It won’t break me. Not that easily, anyway” Her voice cracked as she gave a halfhearted smile.

Melanie flipped the switch. The screen blinked to life: blank, expectant. For nearly a minute, only the machine’s low hum and Rowan’s pounding heartbeat filled the silence.

Then, beneath the hum of the machine, came a faint, ragged whisper:

“Ro—ow—an…”

It grew into a discordant chorus, dozens of voices calling her name from every corner of the gym. The benches seemed to shudder, as if the rows of students had leaned in to watch. Rowan’s eyes darted around, searching for the disembodied whisperers. Deep spasms in her legs and arms were causing her face to twist, wincing in pain.

“I know, it’s rough. I just need you to stay still for another minute or so…”

She’d forgotten that Melanie was in the room momentarily, her voice was a welcome distraction. “I’m okay, please keep go-” Rowan’s muscles contracted, soft at first then violently, as if they were attempting to crush the bones beneath.

The screen’s surface shivered. Black and gray particles drifted like ash in a dead room, coalescing and dissolving in maddening patterns. Melanie’s eyes widened.

Without warning, the screen went dead black. The gym lights sputtered and died. Rowan’s world collapsed into pitch darkness. Flashing back to her dream, she was in the middle of the dark sea again, alone.

A heartbeat passed when suddenly, two blinding white beams stabbed through the void, pulsing like unblinking eyes.

The screen roared back, trembling like the sail of a boat on a stormy sea. Rowan’s mind flashed back to her dream. The gray particles whipped into focus, spelling out a single word in jagged relief:

KEEP.

Rowan’s blood ran cold.

KEEP HER.

The floor of the gym rumbled and then convulsed. Overhead, a thunderous crack split the vaulted ceiling, a shower of plaster rained down near the exit covered most of the gym in dust. An impossibly cold draft snuffed out the emergency lights, plunging the room into flickering shadows.

KEEP HER AWAY.

Flames licked the screen’s corner, casting warped shadows that stretched across the tall ceiling. Melanie screamed “ROWAN, ROWAN ARE YOU OKAY?” But Rowan was unable to answer, an invisible force holding her down, silencing her.

The lights flickered back on. The screen was gone—only singed brick and the acrid stench of burning electronics remained.

Rowan sat frozen, sweat and tears streaking her mascara. Her hands, once clammy with fear, now shook with cold. Behind her, the next graduate approached, unaware of the horror that was her exam.

Melanie grabbed Rowan’s arms and began to shake her. She was terrified, which further unnerved Rowan.

“Rowan wake up, please wake up,” Melanie was tearing the nodes off her wrists, chest, and finally her temples.

She was looking at Rowan as if she’d come back from the dead. Her face was pale, and sweat was beading down the sides of her face and down her nose. No, not sweat, tears, Rowan realized.

Melanie slowly lifted Rowan to a sitting position in the chair.

“Take your time, we don’t want you to further injure yourself,” Melanie said through sniffles.

“Hurt myself?” Rowan was unsettled by the raspy tone in her voice. Like she’d been at a concert screaming for hours. When she finally swallowed, her throat painfully dry, she tasted metal.

“May I have some water, please,” she asked Melanie in a hushed voice.

“Of course, anything you want, sweetie,” Melanie said hurriedly jumping at Rowan’s request. "I’ll get the nurse in for a look at your…” she trailed off as if she didn’t know exactly what to say, “face,” she finished.

My face? Rowan thought. What’s wrong with my face? She brought her hand up to see if she could figure out what Melanie was talking about. Raising her arm felt like lifting a concrete brick out of the water.

She felt the cold sensation of tears running from her eyes. Brushing them away with her fingertips, attempting to clear her vision. Looking around for a tissue, paper towel, a piece of lined paper even, she saw a box of tissues sitting on the administrator’s desk.

Melanie wasn’t kidding when she recommended that Rowan take it slow. She must’ve stood up too quickly because she was hit by an intense rush of nausea. Whether she took Melanie’s advice wouldn’t matter. Making her way over to the desk, her legs felt heavy, like she was trying to run in sand. Finally, she reached the desk, grabbed a tissue, and patted her eyes dry.

Rowan looked down at the tissue, horrified. It was covered in fresh, bright red blood. Instinctively, she dropped the tissue to the ground like it was going to bite her. She would be taken into the school offices to be seen by the nurse. With only the thought of her test results in her mind, Rowan grabbed a handful of tissues and soaked them with water from a bottle she found on Melanie’s desk.

Although she was in a hurry, she made sure to thoroughly clean her face with the tissues. Wiping her nose, the tissue soaked up more intensly red blood. Her mind was a tangled mess of thoughts coming at her all at once. When did this happen? How did this happen?

She felt no sensation of tears or blood running from her nose while the test was being administered. Not wanting to be stuck with the nurse for hours, she had to get out of the gym before they came for her. She needed answers and for the moment, she could only trust herself.

Rowan gathered her things and bolted for the exit, her footsteps echoing in the hall as the other students were now silently waiting to take their exams. Her eyes met Nelly’s before she turned to run out the back exit to the library. Nelly could see the fear in them.