I bit my lip, considering Jones’ request. I would spend the next few weeks in my room. Robin could fetch food for me, now that she was better. Robin, better? a quiet voice asked. I swallowed hard against it. There was no room for doubt. If I was to avoid the Vine Keeper and political entanglement, I’d have to shelter in my room. I met Jones’ eye. “So you want me to record any conversations I have with the Vine Keeper and communicate them to you via this journal.”

She nodded. “And Arika?”

“Yes?”

“See that he does converse with you.”

I tensed. “You want me to—”

“I want you to welcome our new student.”

I swallowed. There it was. I was to engage the Vine Keeper, pretend to be his friend, and betray whatever he said to Jones. With such an assignment, I could not avoid the intrigue. Briefly, I imagined what the others would say if they knew I spied on one of us for Jones.

“Doesn’t the non-communication rule include written communications?” I asked, looking for a way out.

“Not if we don’t want it to.” Her eyes gleamed.

But the law is the law. We are to uphold it, bar none, for the greater good. I bit my lip, tasting blood. And, for a moment, my guilt overcame my fright.

“Can’t you pick someone else?” I whispered. “Maybe a secondary student not subject to the non-communication rule?”

“No.”

“But what if one of the other Teachers finds out? Autonomy is vital.”

She sniffed. “Arika, are you arguing with me?”

I stepped away. “No, Teacher.”

“Then kindly do not inform me of facts I already know.”

I slumped. “Yes, Teacher.”

She smiled knowingly. “No, you never do argue, do you? Not since the Pit.” She cracked the knuckles of her right hand. “Which is why you’ve been given this assignment. I assure you, it comes straight from the top.”

I glanced up. “You mean, from Director Kumar?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together. “What I mean, Arika, is that your future is in your hands as we speak.”

My hand clenched around the little black book. She was right. What choice did I have? I could not hope to maintain my classification if I stood in opposition to both Jones and the Director. Ducking my head, I stuffed the little black notebook deep into the folds of my aura.

* * *

Hours later, my last block of classes at the Schoolhouse began. Jones towered at the front of the room. “We’ve got important information to cover. But, before we get to the material—take out your dictation notebooks.”

To my right, Jetson sighed. We all disliked dictation, but he despised it.