I run my fingertips along the cold, uneven stone walls as I follow Sejeong down the stairs in silence. I asked her about the seat choice and the pencil thing, but she only asked me what actions I took. Which in turn had me wondering what information I would be giving away if I told her. So I shut up.

Sejeong leads me through the foyer I walked through last night on my way to Kang's office. She stops in front of a broad wooden door and a young guard opens it. The guard is dressed in the same leather armbands and leather belt that the guys who escorted me to my room last night wore.

"Thanks," I say as I pass the guard, but she doesn't respond. I grumble under my breath.

My upset disappears, though, the  moment my boots touches the soft grass in the rectangular courtyard. The temperature instantly drops, but not as harshly as I would expect for December. Of course the inside temperatures are lower than I'm used to, so I might not notice the difference right away I normally would. The humidity feels similar to home, which doesn't tell me much about where I am, considering that many parts of Korea have winter climates comparable in the northern hemisphere. And the air is thick with the earthy smell of damp soil and moss that reminiscent of being deep in a forest.

The perimeter is lined by ancient oak trees with enormous trunks, which doesn't give me any clues, since oaks are also common throughout Korea. But despite the lack of info I can glean from them, they are stunning. Their tops have been carefully groomed to create a dense arched canopy over the entire space, dappling the light on the ground. Thick vines hang from branches at a variety of lengths, making the whole thing a fantasy jungle gym.

I run my hand along one of the vines and give it a tug. "I guess this place isn't all bad," I say between dry lips, realizing my mouth has been hanging open as I've been taking it all in. Catching flies, as Jisoo would say.

"This courtyard is used as part of our athletic program, and it's strictly forbidden to climb the vines without an instructor present," Sejeong says, squarely putting the kibosh on my desire to climb up them. But even she can't completely dampen this moment for me.

"When is that class?" I ask.

"Tomorrow," she says.

"For juniors and seniors, or for everyone?" I take a deep breath, enjoying the scent of freshly cut grass and bark.

"We don't use grade standings like that, Fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds are considered elemental. Seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds are advanced," she says. "And we don't share classes with the younger students. Generally, they have a lighter schedule than we do, giving them more time for practice."

I nod. That fits with everything Yoo told me. "Question: If everything here is so secret, how do people apply for college? I"m guessing there are no transcript from this place."

Sejeong looks at me like my question is ridiculous. "If  we go to college."

"Why go to prep school described as only admitting the best if you don't plan on going to college?" I ask.

And why waste four years studying inane subjects in college when you could just say you went and be done with it?" she counters.

My eyes widen. So then this isn't some bizarre supplementary prep school with a focus on survival skills, like I thought. It's the only education these kids seem to think they need. But what kind of a career can you possibly plan on having if your main skill sets are in weapons, history, and deception? Spies? Assassins? Secret service? I want to think I'm wrong and that Appa would never send me here if that were the case, but I honestly can't understand Sejeong's reply. "So what does everyone do if they don't go to college?" I ask carefully.

She looks at me sideways. "Whatever our Families need us to do," she says, and turns around. "Try to keep up. We still have a lot to cover."

I follow her to a gap in the wall of trees, trying to figure out if there is a better way for me to ask what I want to know without getting cryptic answer or frustrating her. The part that's making me most uncomfortable is that from what I've heard and seen today, this doesn't seem like the type of place where you pop in for two weeks and leave. I'm now convinced that appa omitted something important, and I really don't like the uneasy feeling I'm experiencing as a result.

We pass through an arched doorway formed from vines and into a garden bursting with color. It, too, has a thick tree canopy, well groomed like the last. Only, instead of vines for climbing, this courtyard is decorated with garlands of royal purple berries and tiny white flowers. Purple profusion berries, if I remember correctly from the plant books I've always hoarded and refused to let Appa donate to the library. Giant, moss-covered rocks have been sculpted into benches, and blue, purple, and white flowers are arranged in intricate patterns.

"The garden lounge," Sejeong says with pride. "Students are allowed to spend free time here during daylight hours. The snow can't easily make its way through thick tree canopy, and since there is a hot spring that runs under the school, we get to enjoy the flowers nearly all year around."

Off the top of my head I know that a few places in Korea and the nearby islands have hot springs, and I'm sure there are more I don't even know about, so again the school gives nothing away about it's location.

"This place is phenomenal," I say, breathing in the sweet flowery scent. But I can't fully enjoy it because I'm still hung up on the spy/assassin worry and appa.

"We have a resident horticulturist who teaches an elective in botany and also works with our poison teacher," Sejeong says. "He never plants anything lethal in here, though," she adds, registering the look of concern that I'm sure flashed across my face. "That greenhouse is located in the outer perimeter."

"The outer perimeter?" I ask.

"Between the school and the outermost wall," Sejeong says. "Only select faculty members have access to it. It's also where the food is grown and the dairy cows and hens are kept." She points to another archway visible through the wall of trees. "Through that way is an open field. There's an archery class in there right now."

"By open, do you mean with no tree canopy?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "All outdoor space is camouflaged. There are even trees planted on the school's roofs, and vines on its walls."

I blink at her, and for the first time it really stinks in that I'm in an ancient building no one knows the location of, with no easy way for me to contact the outside world. "And that's to . . . keep the locals from spying on us, or to hide us from airplanes?"

"Actually," Sejeong says, looking skyward, "they say there's a kind of high-tech camouflage netting that encases the school and reflects radar, making the entire building nearly undetectable and appear like nothing more than a hill."

I'm now convinced that whatever Appa was trying to protect me from by sending me here must be really dangerous. Which only makes me worry about him and Uncle Jin. I'm seriously regretting not pushing harder to make him tell me the specifics.

Sejeong heads for the archway and she just pointed at and waves her hand for me to follow.

And I do. "I thought you said there was a class in there?"

"I did," she says, and enters the next courtyard with me right behind her.

I gasp.

To our left, five students in identical stances brandish bows and arrows. Behind them, another ten or so wait their turn. And to our right is a wall affixed with wooden targets, not bull's eyes but a series of Xs no bigger than a quarter.

"Release!" says a lean woman with high cheekbones. She wears an all-black version of the outfit we're wearing.

Five arrows whiz past us so fast that I feel the wind on my face. They securely lodge in the top line of Xs. Not one is amiss.

"Easy enough," says the teacher.

I swallow. I can't believe how good they all are.

"Now try it with movement," the teacher says, and I detect a French accent in her Korean.

One of the archers steps a few feet in front of the rest, and his gaze make me just as uncomfortable as it did when I talked to him earlier - Sehun. He gives Sejeong and me a knowing smile and spins a leg out to the side in a fast kick as he releases an arrow in midair. It not only lands in an X, it hits so perfectly it splits the X in half.

My mouth opens. "That was incredible," I say to Sejeong.

The teacher turns and looks at me. "Since you're talking during my class, I assume you would like to try to top that."

And before I can get a word out, an arrow whizzes through the air and punctures the grass at ym feet. I reflexively jump backward. A bow comes next.

"Um, I don't -" I start.

Sejeong snatches the bow and before I can finish my sentence she's loaded and shot the arrow. She not only hits the board, she splits the arrow her brother shot in two. It won't happen again, Professor Flechier," Sejeong says.

Flechier - French for sure, her name means "maker of arrows." I'm starting to realize that some of these overseas professors' names must be pseudonyms, given their literal meanings.

There's the sound of metal hitting metal and I look back at the target board. Another arrow is lodged in the same entry point as Sehun's. The guy who shot it is tall, with bleached blonde hair that's splits in the middle and the type of confident posture that makes it hard not to notice him. He winks at me and I smile before I can consider it.

Sejeong practically pushes me back through the archway and into the flower garden. "How dare you embarrass me like that!"

I stare at her in awe. "I'm pretty sure I embarrassed myself. You, on the other hand, split an arrow in half. And after seeing that, I'm seriously regretting having pissed you off."

"There are rules, alliances, manners," Sejeong says, clearly annoyed with me. "You never interrupt a teacher. And especially not . . . Professor Flechier is . . .Do something like that again and I'm demanding a roommate change."

I press my lips together. I've never seen another student get this mad about talking in class. And I've also never a teacher react like that. I'm not only out of my element here, but my instincts are all wrong. "I'm sorry, Sejeong. I really am. I'm just not used to the rules here yet."

Her expression relaxes a little and she straightens out her already straight cloak. "That's the second time you've apologized to me today."

I half smile. "You'll know it's really bad when I start buying you presents," I say. "My best friend used to keep an ongoing request list."

Sejeong looks at me curiously. "Let's go," she says in a tone that tells me she's not really mad anymore.

She weaves through the flower beds toward the far wall, where gray stone peeks out between the tree trunks, and pushes through a wooden door. I reluctantly leave the cushioned grass, running my hand over a tree trunk as I go. A guard shuts the door behind us. He has an odd scar above his left eyebrow in the shape of an X. Even though he doesn't say a word, he doesn't try to hide the fact he's checking me out, either.

Sejeong gestures at the high-ceiling foyer with shields mounted on the wall and a statue of an armored knight. "We're now in the south side of the building. These shields commemorate some of the most important achievements our Families have made - minus the past two hundred years, of course."

I take a good look at the shields. Yoo's comments about history play in my mind. But the last time I asked Sejeong about Families head-on, she got annoyed. Plus, that guard hasn't taken his eyes off me and it's giving me the creeps.

"And you know who all these shields belong to?" I say as though I doubt her knowledge.

She scoffs and points to my left. "That one represents Asoka's most trusted advisors, that one Alexander the Great's lover, Julius's aunt, Cancer's best friend, Akmu's cousin, Peter the Great's councilor, Wang Feifei's strategists, and Elisabeth the First's chambermaid. Need I go on?"

I shake my head, trying to convince her and that staring guard that I know what she's talking about. But the truth is, I'm more confused than I was before. What do chambermaids and best friends have to do with this school?

"Sit, Suzy," Appa says, gesturing at the couch.

I sit down and pull my favorite mint blanket over my legs.

Appa sits next to me. He rubs the palm of his hand with his thumb and is silent for a few long seconds. "I don't have  enough time to explain everything if you're going to get on that plane tonight. Besides, there's nothing you need to know right now. I'll take care of everything here. In the meantime, you go learn some new knife skills and survival tactics."

I frown at him. It's unlike him to speak around things. But there's something in his voice that unsettles me, a crack in his confidence. "Did something happed to Uncle Jin that you're not telling me?"

He looks tired. "I don't know all the details. Which is part of the reason I need to go and help sort things out and make sure everything and everyone is safe.

"Okay," I say slowly. "But you told me he a break-in. That's not the worst, is it? I mean, even if it has something to do with your old NIS life, do you really think it warrants sending me off to some -"

"Suzy, I need you to trust me. Can do you that?" His expression doesn't give anything away, but there is a gravity to his tone.

"Of course," I say, and I want to push the issue, but every time he's ever told me to trust him, he's done it for a reason. And every time he's been right.

He nods and some of the tension seems to leave his eyes.

We're quiet for a few seconds, all the unanswered questions hanging between us like thick fog.

He watches me. "I understand that it must feel sudden, but I don't have a lot of good choices at present. I just know I can't take any chances where you're concerned. If your uncle is in any kind of danger, then we very well might be, too. I want to clear up whatever is going on and be certain it doesn't spill into our lives here."

I don't bother asking him what would happen if it did. Because I know. He would do whatever he needed to protect me, including move us. He told me that once when I was little and I've never forgotten it. There are few things I love more than living in Jeongseon, and if I have to go to some remote school for a few weeks while he sorts things out to keep us from having to move away, I most certainly will.

He laughs suddenly and catches me off guard. "Do you remember the time that man kicked his dog and Uncle Jin kicked him? He threatened to call the police on him and he said, 'Do it. I hope they send me to jail. It'll give lots of time to contemplate how I'm going to kill you when I get out.'"

I smile. "Vicious. Believe me, I know exactly why you want to go to Providence. Who knows what he'll do left to his own devices."

And just like that, we're back on the same page. No more fog. No more answers, either. But it's always kind of been that way with him. And it doesn't matter. Because even if I don't know exactly what's going on, I know him.

I exhale. "I guess a few weeks isn't the end of the world."

He nods like he knew I would come to this conclusion. "Good. We're agreed. And Suzy, I know you've got a lot of questions. And I know how much self-restraint it's taking for you not to fight  me on this. But I promise you that you know exactly as much as will keep you safe. And I will take care of whatever is going on."

I frown at the shields. No, I don't know what will keep me safe. And how did he hear about this school, anyway? I assumed it was some kind of whiched crazy program he knew about from his NIS days. But the students and faculty aren't only Korean, as far as I can tell, they're from all over world. And the figures on the shields that Sejeong names are vastly different historical periods. I don't see how they could have any Korean intelligence.

 A girl and a guy enter the foyer, speaking in hushed voices. But instead of passing by, they stop.

"Rose," the girl says, introducing herself, and does a curtsy. She's tall and lean and has long orange-blonde hair. Rose is . . . European, I'm pretty sure. However, it's also a name that's used by a variety of cultures all over the world.

"And this is Jimin," Rose continues, and I catch an Australian accent. The guy next to her bows. Where she's relaxed, he's stiff. And he has silver hair that glistens with the light.

"Suzy," I say, placing my hand on my chest. "I'm not much of a curtsier."

Rose laughs, even though what I said wasn't funny.

"If you don't already have plans for lunch, please feel free to join us," Jimin says, with a Busan accent. But his facial expression remains stiff, almost awkward. He and Rose appear to have such different appearance, it's hard to imagine them as friends.

"Oh, thanks," I say. Finally a normal welcome. "That'd be great."

And just like that Rose and Jimin give me a quick nod and move on without another word. We;; maybe it wasn't a super-normal welcome, but it's definitely among the friendliest interactions I've had so far.

I turn to Sejeong, but her expression has gone colder than before.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask her, and the guard's head moves ever so slightly in our direction.

She speed-walks out of the high-ceilinged room and into the hallway. About halfway down, she stops and looks both ways to make sure we're alone. "Rose's . . . She's a Jackal," she says in a hushed voice.

I looked at her like she's lost me. "But she's Australian, right?"

Sejeong shakes her head. "No one knows where she grew up. She's impeccable with accents. The best in the school."

I stare at Sejeong. "Did you just tell me something personal about someone?" I can't help but smile.

"What I told you is that Rose's from the Jackal family, and by your reaction to my analysis of you earlier, I can now say that you're Korean American."

"I -" I catch myself before I tell her that she's correct - eomma was American and appa's Korean. Jackal Family? Something about that feels oddly familiar. "What does that mean, that she's a Jackal?"

What looks like genuine shock appears on her face. "I told you to stop that."

I close my mouth, pretty sure that whatever response I give next will be wrong.

"You're not goo enough to go up against Rose," Sejeong says, "and you'll hurt all of us with your stupidity."

I exhale audibly. "I honestly don't know what to say to you right now. You won't let me ask questions. And you yell at me when I say I don't know what's going on. I get that maybe you don't like Rose, but if she wants me to have lunch with her, I don't see what's so bad about that. Unless you've changed your mind and suddenly want to explain it."

Sejeong looks at me long and hard. It almost seems like she want to ask me a question. Then without a word she turns and starts walking faster than before.

"Sejeong?" I call after her.

"I need to think," she says, and I have practically run to catch up with her.

For the next hour, Sejeong doesn't say one word to me that she doesn't have to.