Chapter 3: Welcome to the Ranks

I found myself waiting, once again, outside an airport, this time in Missoula, Montana. I guess the Academy shouldn't spring for a private jet for just one guardian who is fully capable of caring for herself, but I was still miffed. At least they had given me money for the bus and, unintentionally, time to fully sober up before speaking with them. Really, I'm not too high-maintenance. I settled into a seat with my iPod and soaked up the scenery, remembering just how beautiful Montana really is. Because flights run on a daytime schedule in the human world, I had been awake for a long time, but I was too nervous and edgy to doze on the bus. By the time we reached St. Vladimir's two hours later, around 9:00 pm, I was still on alert.

I reported to Guardian Alberta Petrova's office as soon as I got through the Academy's gates, feeling like I was still a student and somehow in trouble for something. Alberta, however, greeted me warmly. I had always liked her, despite our differences. It was still strange to be considered her equal, but nice. Only now, I suppose she is my boss.

"So, what exactly am I doing here?" I asked after several minutes of small talk. "I understand that I'm taking over some classes, but I have to ask—why me? My mom didn't give me much of an answer on that."

"Well, we're starting a new program here," she began. "One that has been kept under wraps. I even asked Queen Vasilisa not to tell you about it in advance. Please forgive her for that, Rose. It was the right thing to do. The program is only in its initial stages and bound to be controversial. We have a select group of teenage humans—Alchemists, actually— who want to attend St. Vladimir's and learn to fight alongside the dhampir novices. Obviously, the dhampirs will still be assigned to royal Moroi upon graduation, but having human guardians could give more non-royal Moroi access to guardians. It's a partial solution to the guardian shortage."

I stared at her. I was all for innovative solutions, but this was just strange. "And the Alchemists are okay with this?"

Her expression hardened. "Well, no. That's why we have so few volunteers in the pilot program. The Alchemists haven't disowned them, exactly, but let's just say they are not pleased."

My stomach lurched as I thought of Sydney, my dear friend who risked her precious reputation to help me in this crazy life of mine. My heart went out to these humans, who probably felt as conflicted as Sydney did. "So where do I come in?"

Alberta's face relaxed into a smile again. "You'll be their mentor. You will actually be teaching only two classes, and the other guardians will take many of your security shifts. You'll still be busy, but it will be exciting and important work. This is an honor, Rose."

I wished people would stop saying that, but I had to admit that I was a bit excited by this prospect. In addition to being the love of my life, Dimitri truly had been a great mentor for me. I hoped I could follow in his footsteps—without sleeping with my students, of course. "So when do I get to meet them?"

Alberta was clearly relieved that I had taken the news so well. "One of them, you already have. You will be teaching Miss Sydney Sage."

My jaw dropped. "Sydney? Don't get me wrong, Sydney is wonderful and brilliant and talented, but as a guardian? Are we talking about the same girl? She's tiny. Physical confrontation isn't her thing. How does she expect to get through this?"

"Ask her yourself."

I whirled around. Sydney stood in the doorway, grinning. "Hey, Rose."

My lightning-fast guardian reflexes did not prepare me for situations like this. "Sydney! I didn't mean—"

She waved my concerns away. "It's fine. I think I'm crazy for trying this too. Good thing you and I have a long history of crazy missions." She crossed the room to hug me, and for the first time, I really looked at her. She looked as polished as ever in khaki pants, a deep purple blouse, and a black cardigan. Her trademark gold cross necklace drew my eye to her visible sternum. When I wrapped my arms around her, I felt as though I would break her with a gentle squeeze. The girl wore great concealer as always, but I could see a faint outline of dark circles under her eyes. I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to hide her obvious signs of stress, that she was safe here with me. Then again, I wasn't about to admit to the headache that was making itself at home in my newly sober brain.

After Sydney left to begin her day, I stayed behind in Alberta's office to finish some paperwork. She handed me the key to a suite in guest housing, which was just fine with me. I wanted to think of this position as a very temporary one, and the idea of myself as an instructor made me shiver. So did the bitter Montana autumn, as I crossed the campus lugging my two suitcases to guest housing. Whispers followed me as students stopped and stared. I had no doubt that they knew—or believed they knew—all about me. It was like I was returning from Portland with Lissa all over again. I just wanted to sleep.

I dropped my luggage on the floor of my guest suite unceremoniously. Unearthing a bottle of pinot noir from one of the suitcases, I poured some into a glass tumbler I found on the dresser. I flopped onto the bed, knowing I should be up and moving around to get myself accustomed to a nighttime schedule again, but I had no desire to leave my room. Alcohol, thankfully, always has an energizing effect on me. It makes no sense, but then again, nothing makes sense in my mind these days.

I only had two days to prepare for my new teaching job. One of my new classes, Advanced Guardian Combat Techniques, would be relatively simple. Physical sparring was what I did best (although I quite enjoyed verbal sparring as well), and senior novices took turns leading their peers through training exercises anyway. My other assignment—Bodyguard Theory and Personal Protection 3—was one that had given me trouble when I was a student, and I was sure it would be a bitch to teach as well. I had Taryn Holden's lesson plans and, obviously, plenty of experience in the real world, but I was unusually nervous about teaching this class. I couldn't shake the humiliating feeling of the last time I stood in front of a Theory 3 class—the day Lissa and I were dragged back to the Academy. Defiant though I was at the time, I can now admit that Stan Alto, my old instructor, was right. I had been underprepared. Lissa was alive because we got lucky. All the raw talent in the world couldn't compensate for a lack of training.

"But now I know better," I told Dimitri over the phone that night, in what I hoped was a steady, confident voice. "Maybe I can teach these crazy kids a thing or two."

Dimitri laughed. "Roza, please don't try to sound like a real teacher ever again."

"Hey!" I protested. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, you do," he agreed proudly. I could hear him slipping back into his old role as my mentor. "You'll be great tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay? Some quality sleep."

Guiltily, I set my wine glass down on the nightstand, hoping he couldn't hear the clink through the phone as it hit my alarm clock. "I will," I promised. "I should go. I love you."

"Love you too. Good luck tomorrow, not that you need it."

We said goodnight and I hung up the phone. Training sessions with the human novices weren't set to begin until Wednesday, so I didn't have to teach until 8:00 pm. Still, it had been awhile since I had to put in a full day's work, and although the sun had only been up for a few hours, I crashed. I fell asleep quickly, easily, and peacefully.

Author's Note: The song Rose is listening to on the bus is "Secrets on Our Lips" by Astronautalis. It's what I would listen to on a bus ride through rural Montana, and it always reminds me of her and Dimitri. The next chapter will be longer. We get to see Rose as a teacher and meet her newest challenge in life!