‘Uh …’ Brinden shook his head. Edra nodded and turned his withering gaze on the rest of the students.
‘Today’s weapons training,’ Edra repeated, ‘is on the roof. I’ve brought two dozen weapons up from the armoury. Some are in good condition, but some are bent, broken or dull. In the field you will fight with whatever comes to hand.’ He smiled. ‘First students to the north terrace get their pick of the weapons. Last ones get the dregs. The six who do best today get a head-start in tomorrow’s test.’ He smiled, and it was all teeth. ‘Go!’
Annev felt a surge of adrenaline as a group of avatars darted for the nearest stairway. Therin started to follow but Annev grabbed his shoulder.
‘Faster this way.’ Annev slid past the crowd of boys sprinting up the stairs and saw another avatar had had the same idea. The boy darted in front of Annev, his chin-length hair whipping back to reveal a scar running down the side of his face.
‘Kenton!’ Annev barked. The raven-haired boy typically kept to himself – he trained with Duvarek in almost the same way Annev did with Sodar – but about six months ago Annev had convinced Kenton to join his small group of friends. The four of them – Therin, Titus, Annev, and Kenton – had agreed to work together until they all earned their avatar title. But as soon as Kenton passed his Test of Judgement he had reneged on his promise, turning a cold shoulder to the other acolytes and even befriending Fyn. Seeing Kenton also made Annev’s conscience twinge because he planned to similarly betray Titus and Therin in tomorrow’s test.
Kenton ignored the shout of his name and instead ran faster, flinging himself down a corridor and darting up a second flight of stairs. Annev was hard on his heels when the scar-faced boy ripped a heavy tapestry down from the wall. With barely a thought, Annev rolled beneath the bulky hanging and sprang to his feet on the other side. Kenton glanced back, swore, and turned the corner.
So that’s the game, Annev thought. There was swearing behind him as Therin and Titus tangled in the heavy tapestry, and as Annev turned the corner he saw Fyn and his sycophants batter Titus and Therin aside so they could run past. Annev raced even faster down the hallway.
Can’t help them, he told himself, spurred on by the prospect of catching Kenton. Have to keep moving. The dark-haired boy had reached a junction in the corridor; he hesitated then turned right, disappearing from view. On instinct, Annev turned left.
The two corridors traced the perimeter of the upper dormitories, so Kenton and Annev would rejoin before connecting with the battlements and rooftop terrace. The difference, though, was that the younger students all had rooms along the right-hand corridor, while almost all the rooms on the left were vacant. Annev hoped Kenton would have to dodge students, slowing his progress to the roof, while Annev only need worry about the surly Master Duvarek – the corridor’s single inhabitant – who would be giving a special lesson in the nave in less than an hour and should already be there.
Annev knew this in the two heartbeats it took to fling himself to the left. In the third heartbeat, he felt a flush of success. In the fourth, he collided hard with the kneeling Master of Shadows. Annev tried to soften the blow by rolling over Duvarek’s kneeling form, but at that precise moment the master raised his face, which caused his head to plough into Annev’s stomach. The impact threw Duvarek backward, cracking the master’s head against the thinly carpeted floor. Annev twisted, slamming his shoulder into the ground as his hip squelched into the master’s pool of vomit. For a moment they both lay on the floor, winded and covered in Duvarek’s sick.
Annev groaned, awkwardly rising to his knees.
‘Keos,’ Duvarek swore. The scruffy-looking master was about to say more, but instead he turned his head and vomited on the carpet again.
Annev scrabbled backward, accidentally kicking Duvarek as he fumbled to extricate himself from both the master and the puddle. When he judged he was a safe distance away, he scrambled to his feet and saw that a dark stain now covered his right side from his ribs to his thigh. He might have been worried about the garment, but the dark spot had even now begun to fade, blending with the sweat and grime already staining his tunic.
Nothing will hide that smell, though …
With an effort, Duvarek scooted off the soiled rug and pressed his temple against the cool stone floor.
‘Bloody … burning … bones.’
Annev blinked, thinking he should run before the master recognised him. Then Duvarek turned his head and Annev realised it was too late. The master’s face was puffy, his hair black and unruly, and there were dark circles beneath his watery eyes. He blinked, his vision focusing on Annev.
‘What the hell, Acolyte Annev?’
Annev swallowed. He could hear the other avatars racing down the hall Kenton had taken. As the sound of their footsteps started to fade, Annev blurted the first thing that came to mind.
‘I’m sorry, Master Duvarek! I was racing to class. I can’t be late or I might be disqualified from tomorrow’s Test of Judgement.’
‘I should disqualify you now,’ Duvarek slurred, clutching his head.
‘Please don’t! I have to compete in that test, Master Duvarek. It’s my last chance.’
The Master of Shadows screwed up his face as if mentioning the test had awoken something he’d been trying to drown in honeywine. He sat up, wiped his mouth and flicked the wet gobbets from his fingers so that they spattered on the wall. Then he looked back at Annev.
‘Go on then.’ The master wiped his palm on his tunic before running the same sticky hand through his tousled black hair. ‘I’ll deal with you in an hour.’
Annev raced for the rooftop.
Chapter Five
Annev was still cursing his luck when he reached the rooftop terrace. Of all people, why did he have to run into Duvarek? The Master of Shadows was most often sent on artifact retrieval missions – a task Annev openly coveted – and he had just knocked the master into a pool of his own vomit. Kenton had earned private lessons with him after gaining his title, and Annev doubted he’d get a similar chance now.
He’s been beyond the Brakewood – to Banok and to Luqura. He’s even been to the far north. I want to do that. I want to be just like him.
An image of Duvarek lying in his own sick flashed before Annev, and he amended that last thought. I want to be better than him. How do I become a man the Academy turns to for artifact retrieval?