Rook

had a talk with me about how important they were, why I should do my very best to make them proud and happy, and how I would be going off to a sort of boarding school. Thrown as I was by the events of the previous hour, I just nodded in a stunned manner and consented to be led out of the building and put into the back of the car, in which I was driven for many miles, far away from London.
    It seemed like the journey was endless. I remember looking around helplessly. Everything I knew was gone, and I was being driven away into the wilderness. I was alone in the back of a limousine. I sniveled and then did a bit more weeping before the driver took pity on me and brought me up front with him. I ended up falling asleep stretched awkwardly across the gear stick, my head on the driver’s knee, my face welded to his uniform trousers by an unholy combination of chocolate, drool, and the products of a runny nose.
    When the car finally arrived at the Estate, I was prodded awake and greeted by a large woman with a strange accent who was horrified by my traveling circumstances. Eventually, when she had finished denouncing the carelessness of her superiors, she introduced herself to me as Frau Blümen, the headmistress of my new school.
    Frau Blümen was jolly and gentle, good with children, and looked tremendously comfortable to fall asleep on. But I was horribly wary of everybody now. As soon as I was out of the car, the driver on whom I hadnapped drove away without so much as a good-bye. It seemed as if no one could be relied on, no one could be trusted.
    That belief would remain with me for a very long time.
    Frau Blümen sent me straight off to bed, where I passed out immediately, exhausted by the day’s events.
    The next morning, I woke up in a new life, a different person than I’d been the previous day. It’s a little odd to think that you’re experiencing the same sort of thing—how many people do that ever, let alone in the same body? I wonder, will you remember every moment of your first new day? I know I certainly do.
    It was the most disorienting, exhausting day of my life.
    I had been awakened by the sound of a rooster crowing. It was dark out, but people were stirring in the room, and the lights were slowly turning themselves on. It was clear that I had no option but to get out of bed, especially when I felt someone poking me hesitantly in the shin. When I finally managed to crack my eyes open, I saw a Chinese girl my own age looking at me expectantly.
    “Good morning!” she chirped. “I’m Mary, and I’m supposed to show you around! It’s time to get up!” Everything she said came out in a cheerful exclamation, and she proved to be one of those people who are always in a good mood.
    Still, it seemed unnatural to me, even at that age, that anyone could just spring out of bed and be alert. What I didn’t know was that all the students at the Estate received extensive training and indoctrination that was designed to make them as efficient as humanly possible. This included becoming “a morning person.” To make matters worse, all the students in my year had been at the Estate since they were infants. There’s no set time when people’s powers manifest, it can happen at any point in their lives, but it usually happens before adolescence, which is convenient for the Checquy, because people are much easier to indoctrinate then. I was the only person of my age group whose powers hadn’t been detected in the womb. Everyone else had spent practically every minute of the past eight years together, so that in addition to already being fitter than most professional athletes and possessing more self-discipline than the samurai, the children had formed themselves into a tight, cohesive group of friends.
    Into this was plunged little Myfanwy Thomas, who was still absorbingthe knowledge that she’d never go home again and was laboring under the vague but pressing injunction to make Lady Farrier and Sir Wattleman proud. And there was something else nagging at me, something that made this whole scenario all the more distressing. It was the first night in months that I hadn’t been visited in my dreams by Farrier. No discussions, no explanations—she’d simply abandoned me.
    When I got up, I was dressed in a navy blue uniform, my hands were slathered in moisturizer and covered in latex gloves, and then I was made to go out to the quadrangle, where we warmed up before embarking on a series of high-impact