CHAPTER TWO

Iniola spent the rest of the day walking in a fog. Every time she reached for her waistband to check her notifications, her fingers met empty air. It was a phantom limb syndrome, but for a teenage girl from Ibadan who lived on her screen.

When she finally got back to her dorm, she slumped onto her thin mattress. Her roommate, a girl named Katryn with sharp eyes and a kind smile, was already organizing her bedside table.

"Abeg, Katryn, lend me your phone," Iniola pleaded. "I need to tell my mummy I haven't died yet."

Katryn looked at her with genuine confusion. "Phone? We don't carry those. If you want to call home, you go to the Echo Chamber on Saturday. But that’s The Weaver’s Rest—the day the Great Spirit knits the week’s wounds. You only use the voice-lines when the air is still."

Iniola let out a dry, hysterical chuckle. She remembered Miss Tade’s lecture now. The calendar wasn't just dates; it was like a recipe for magic. In this place, the days didn't just pass, they functioned.

The Nursing College Calendar

Sunday: The Sun-Blood Rise. A day for surgeries. The light is "sharp," making it the best time to open the body and see what is hidden.

Monday: The She-MoonSecond-Best Core. Cooling energy. Best for calming fevers and soothing mental breaks.

Tuesday: The Iron Pulse. A day of strength. Used for resetting broken bones and building muscle back from nothing.

Wednesday: The Whispering Leaf. The day of herbalism. The plants "speak" their secrets loudest, telling the nurses which tea cures which curse.

Thursday: The Deep Marrow. A heavy day. Used for chronic illnesses that have lived in the body for years.

Friday: The Quickening. The fastest healing day. Minor wounds close in seconds, but the energy is chaotic and hard to control.

Saturday: The Weaver’s Rest. The day of connection. The "veil" is thin, allowing voices to travel across great distances—hence the phone room.

"You learn fast," Katryn said, looking impressed. "Most city girls spend a week arguing before they memorize the calendar."

"I have a brain, Katryn. I just don't have a Google search," Iniola snapped. "How do you guys even study? What if I want to browse? How do I look up nursing notes without the internet?"

Katryn’s smile turned mischievous. "Come. I'll show you 'browsing."

They walked down a corridor that felt miles long until they reached a door labeled RIDE. Inside sat a vehicle that looked like a glossy, cherry-red teardrop. It was metallic but felt warm, with no wheels and a glass canopy that shimmered like a soap bubble.

As they stepped inside, a smooth, melodic voice filled the small cabin. “Welcome, Student. Please input your name if you wish to be addressed, and your destination.”

Iniola stood there, mouth hanging open. Katryn nudged her. "Go on."

"I'm... I'm Iniola," she stammered.

"We want to go to the Library of the world." Katryn said.

The car’s dashboard flashed a soft, welcoming green. “Iniola. What a lovely name. I sense you like stylish things. I shall call you Nio for short it’ll suits you better than 'Ola'. To the Library of the World? Sit back and relax. We arrive in three minutes.”

Before Iniola could even fasten a seatbelt, the pod hissed and surged. They weren't on a road; they were in a tunnel of white light, blurring past other red pods at a speed that made her stomach drop. It felt like being shot through a vacuum tube.

"I must be dreaming," Iniola whispered, clutching the seat. "Either I'm dreaming, or those aliens did something to my mama on the road. Is this space? Katryn, are we in space?"