Ch 2 House Inanna

The classroom wasn't just a room; it was a subterranean amphitheater. Tiers of smooth, cool stone steps fell away at a dizzying angle toward the center, and to either side dozens of small, organic desks and chairs seemed to grow from the floor itself. A faint tremor ran under Gilly’s feet as she tried to slip in unnoticed.

High above, dense luminous roots, thick as pythons, snaked down from the Mother Tree. Their bioluminescence painted the rock in shifting bands of emerald and amethyst. Sleek consoles, their purpose half-technology, half-organic, were woven into the roots and hummed with a quiet efficiency. This was where they learned to survive in the Middle, where they honed their Gifts, and where they prepared to reach the Upper.

Gilly eased into the back row and met Mother’s steady gaze. The woman’s face remained austere, but Gilly felt the weight of it like a hand on her shoulder. Mother—teacher, caregiver, scientist—adjusted her pristine white coat, raised a gloved finger to still the room, and turned her full attention to Gilly.

“Gillianna,” Mother said, voice cool and precise, “you know how important these final classes are. You also know you stand apart from the others, after the Bindings you have not manifested a single Gift.”

Gilly swallowed and smoothed a strand of dark hair. “Yes, Mother,” she murmured, and hurried to her seat.

“Good,” Mother said, then dismissed her with a small, clipped nod.

As Gilly approached, a gnarled root shifted as if sensing her. Bark softened where it rose to meet her, the root and embedded tech forming a smooth, curved seat made just for her. She felt the faint, steady pulse of the Mother Tree through the root, a slow heartbeat that steadied her.

“Now then,” Mother said, walking to the front of the amphitheater and tapping her wristlink. “Where were we?”

“About invitations after the Urams Trials,” Zander answered, voice eager, face slightly red matching his hair.

Mother’s posture changed; she straightened, a pleased smile ghosting her lips. “Ah, invitation protocol. One or two invitations are common. Three is rare. Four... four has only happened once. Siddis received four. He was a genius of numbers and tongues. When he got that fourth invitation, I was... well, I was delighted.” She let the class laugh and chatter for a moment before reining them in.

“I’m proud of many of you,” she continued, fingers dancing over her wristlink. “According to the data, you aren’t Siddis yet, percentage-wise, but you’re ahead of the last cohort, even with River’s loss in the last Binding.”

A ripple of gasps and low murmurs moved through the students. River’s name landed like a stone; many had been close to her, and the memory of her death still stung, most of all Gilly. Mother’s tone softened as she watched the reaction.

“Losing River was tragic, but it’s not the end,” she said. “King Adamah sends nightly updates from the Upper’s betting houses. He expects each of the twelve great Houses to claim their full allotment of survivors.” She made a small, dismissive wave. “All right, who has another question about the invitation process?”

Hands shot up, voices rose, and the room filled with the eager scramble of students vying to be called on.

“PanDorna, my coquettish girl, will this be a pertinent question?” Mother asked.

“Yes, Mother, it will,” PanDorna said, smiling at a few classmates as she tossed her blond curls over her shoulder. “I heard House Inanna has never sent an invitation. Not a single one in over four hundred years. That can’t be true. Is it?”

A ripple of gasps ran through the amphitheater. For many students, the idea that one of the twelve great Houses had not added to its ranks in centuries was almost unimaginable. Gilly had heard the rumor before but had never given it much thought, she didn’t expect to survive the final Binding and reach the Upper anyway. She sighed and settled back to listen.

Mother’s face remained unreadable as she rubbed her hands together, a small, mischievous motion that made the room lean in.

“Their house has certainly paid a price for its choices. They are the smallest of the great Houses now, but small does not mean weak.” Her voice dropped, edged with something like a warning. “House Inanna harbors one of the most formidable sorceresses in memory. Her power is extraordinary, but her temper, her methods, are… disagreeable, even vicious. So those of you who make it to the Upper, mind your manners. For you never know whom you might cross on the Inner Islands.”