“A bit like Ileana’s position,” Merletta commented.
Ibsen nodded in acknowledgment. “Indeed.”
“Well,” said Merletta cheerfully. “Thank you for the friendly warning.”
“So you’ll think it over?” Ibsen asked, watching her closely.
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” said Merletta brightly. “I’ve been thinking it over since I was child, and I’m very sure of my course. I’ll be continuing to second year.” She looked around expectantly. “Do I need to sign something to that effect?”
Ibsen’s expression was sour, and the usual venom had returned to his tone. “Notifying me is sufficient,” he snapped.
Merletta started to rise, but he stalled her with a hand. “There is one other matter,” he said, his voice stiff. Merletta waited in silence, and after a moment, he went on, sounding like the words pained him to say.
“I need to inform you about a reprimand given to your former classmate, Jacobi, this morning.”
Merletta sat back in her seat, her surprised gaze fixed on Ibsen’s face. She hadn’t expected the instructor to fill her in on the announcement she’d missed.
“Oh?” she said cautiously.
“A complaint was received by junior record holder Emil, regarding a comment he overheard Jacobi making.”
He fell silent, and Merletta stared at him, still waiting to find out why he was telling her.
“The comment related to you,” Instructor Ibsen said, more stiffly than ever.
Merletta started. “Me?”
“Apparently Jacobi indicated that he had been involved in some…ill-advised jokes at your expense, involving pufferfish meat and a venomous jellyfish.”
Merletta’s eyes were wide, and she could find nothing to say.
“Emil reported the matter,” Ibsen went on, not quite able to hide his irritation at that decision. He cleared his throat. “I am aware that you raised these matters with Instructor Wivell, but that there was at that time no evidence to support your theory that these were intentional incidents.” He paused. “Emil’s testimony has now provided that evidence. Jacobi has been reprimanded, and I have been instructed to inform you that your complaint has been formally recorded.”
Which means it wasn’t before, Merletta thought. But she didn’t say it aloud. Her mind was whirling too much with these revelations. Jacobi had actually been punished for his part in the attacks against her! It was a weak response considering they could have been fatal, but still, it was something. And Emil had used his influence to bring that about! It was the last thing she had expected.
She was glad it was being taken seriously, but she actually felt a flicker of sympathy for Jacobi. She had no doubt he’d been involved, but she also had no doubt who had been the real instigator. She remembered with perfect clarity how nervous, even shocked, he’d seemed in the training yard when Ileana had gone from beating Merletta to attempting to choke her.
Had he taken the fall for Ileana simply because he was the only one who was careless enough to be overheard talking about it? Had he heroically refused to name her? Or perhaps the instructors knew, but were unwilling to reprimand someone currently in training as a Center guard. A failed trainee was an easier target. Either way, Jacobi’s future would suffer for it.
And Ibsen said he’d been instructed to tell her all this—by whom? Her thoughts flew to the Record Master, and the brief interest he’d taken in her on Founders’ Day. But it seemed unlikely he would involve himself in matters at this level.
“I appreciate the information, sir,” Merletta said at last, realizing that some response was expected.
Instructor Ibsen gave a curt nod. “You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Merletta absently.
Her mind was still churning as she swam from the room. She’d been given a great deal to think about. At least the mystery of Ibsen actually wanting to speak with her was explained. Part of her wanted to be amused by the instructor’s blatant attempt to dissuade her from taking her hard-earned place in the program’s second year. He should know her better by now.
But it was hard to find the humor when she still didn’t know who had tried to kill her through means of the Center guards, and Ibsen was one of the most likely candidates. Was today’s conversation his attempt to get rid of her by less gruesome means, since he had failed to do so more permanently? Or was it unrelated, with him totally unaware of the attack on her?
Merletta swam back toward the trainees’ barracks, which were mostly deserted, given it was a rest day. The thought startled Merletta. It was a rest day. She had forgotten in the excitement of her test, and the apprehension about Ibsen’s summons. It was the first time she had failed to travel to the island in the morning, and the realization that she had forgotten made her sad.
She glanced up toward the distant surface. The light was dim, although it was just past noon, and even from the ocean floor she could see the signs of frenzied movement on the surface of the water. It was clearly stormy up there, one of her favorite times to explore.
She cast her eyes around her, remembering that Sage was with her family in Skulssted. There was no point hanging around here. She turned toward the edge of the Center’s boundary. It was a while since she had enjoyed the sight of driving waves lashing the sand of Vazula’s beaches. She would keep her one-sided tryst, even if it would be late in the day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT