Time’s almost up. If Therin’s still out there, then he’s won – I can’t beat him. But I can pass the test … and I can make sure she does, too.
Annev sat back on his heels as the girl’s eyelids fluttered – or had she winked at him? He shook his head then held up all four tokens so she could see them. Then, making his intentions clear, he took two in his right hand and replaced the others where he had found them. It was just as he released them, his fingers still touching her skin, that Annev belatedly recognised the girl on the pew.
Myjun.
He snatched his hand back.
‘TIME!’ Edra shouted. ‘Cease! Return to the entrance of the nave.’
Annev looked down into Myjun’s cool green eyes.
She stared back, and this time there was no mistaking the wink she gave him.
Chapter Eleven
A few seconds after Edra called time, Duvarek pulled a large rope at the entrance to the nave and all the cloth panels came rolling down from the rafters. Light flooded the room, and it became obvious who was paralysed and who was still mobile.
Annev made sure Myjun was comfortable then reluctantly stood up from his hole in the boards. He looked around. Six witgirls stood within a dozen paces of him and two lay stunned beside him, but not a single avatar or acolyte could be seen.
‘Oh,’ Edra mumbled from the opposite end of the nave. Witmistress Kiara and the other two witwomen smiled at the Master of Arms, clearly unsurprised. Edra harrumphed. ‘Change of plan,’ he bellowed. ‘Let’s clear this wreck out. Witgirls, please help Master Duvarek roll up the curtains. Avatars …’ He paused, looked at Annev, then shrugged and continued. ‘Avatars and acolytes, Master Narach has a wand to cure you of your paralysis. Once he has, you will gather up these planks and stack them against the wall.’
It took a little time, but once Narach had unfrozen the paralysed – using a rod that was painted half gold and half white – the work proceeded quickly. The boys who had been stunned by the witgirls’ pressure-point attacks were unaffected by Narach’s rod, so Witmistress Kiara worked alongside him, forcing thumb and knuckle into the boys’ joints. Most regained feeling almost immediately, though Therin had apparently been worked over by the witgirls and needed additional help; Kiara summoned the third witwoman – Tonja – and together they applied pressure to Therin’s paralysed limbs. He gasped aloud, his body contorting as they twisted and pulled. Then there was an audible pop, which Annev heard from across the nave, and Therin went limp. He wasn’t able to help clear up, but by the time the cloth panels and planks had been moved he could stand again.
He avoided Annev.
Annev was busy scooping up planks and carrying them over to the wall when he noticed the other students staring at him and recalled that he was still wrapped in black cloth. He shed the strips and added them to the pile of rags on the dais, belatedly remembering Titus as he did. He moved the pile of cloth, pulling his stunned and blinking friend out and calling for Narach. After repeated pokes with the Rod of Recovery, Titus finally regained the use of his limbs.
‘That’s strange,’ Narach said, tucking the wand back into his robes. ‘Usually doesn’t need more than one poke. Same thing happened with that Fyn boy.’
‘Maybe the witgirls stunned them.’
Narach squinted at Annev then shook his head. ‘The recovery wand wouldn’t have worked at all then. Instead, these boys got better with each application. Almost like they were stunned more than once …’
Titus shrugged, ignoring Narach’s unspoken question.
Once the room had been cleared, Edra and Duvarek asked the students to line up, present their badges and account for their actions in the nave. The witgirls lined up, too, but Kiara gave no indication they would give a similar accounting. Instead, she and the two junior witwomen took their places beside Edra and Duvarek, silently observing.
The avatars went first, and the accounting was supposed to be their opportunity to trumpet their prowess – but today it was a parade of humiliation, each explaining how they had fallen to the witgirls or been taken down by Fyn. Kenton had fared better than most, until he admitted Therin had got the drop on him, and any respect he had earned quickly diminished.
For Fyn, it was much worse. He had been dragged out of the Ring of Odar to a chorus of whispered speculation and pointed fingers. When it was his turn he lingered on his successes, his voice turning sullen when he related how he had found and stunned Titus – omitting that the boy was already paralysed or that he had tortured him. He concluded his tale by saying Annev had hidden in the Ring of Odar and surprised him when he stooped to collect Titus’s badge. It was close enough to the truth that Annev didn’t correct it, and he enjoyed seeing the other students reappraising him. Best of all was Myjun’s flash of a smile as Annev’s blue eyes met her green ones. For that moment, he relived the seconds they had shared in the shadows of the nave.
With the avatars’ accounting over, it was the acolytes’ turn. Therin surprised everyone by going first. He had stunned Alisander in the rafters, and then stunned Kenton on the dais. He gazed at his feet then, before glancing sheepishly at Annev.
‘I’m not proud of what I did next,’ he said. ‘I didn’t stun Annev, but I did use our friendship to steal his takings. We were almost tied for medallions, and I wanted to win. It didn’t even matter in the end, because I was caught by the witgirls almost at once.’ He shrugged. ‘I had thirteen badges, and I would have more if I had worked with Annev. I hid instead, because I was afraid of losing my advantage, and Faith and Malia found me.’ Therin paused here, grinning broadly, all penance suddenly gone from his face. ‘But damn if I didn’t mind getting groped in the dark. What a way to go!’
Most of the avatars and acolytes laughed at Therin’s not-so-penitent confession. Even Duvarek snorted, though he got it under control when Kiara glared at him.
Annev watched the wit-apprentices during the exchange and saw Faith, Malia and Myjun whisper among themselves, all three laughing at a private joke.
‘Enough!’ Edra bellowed, eyeing the acolyte. ‘Thank you for your account, Therin, though at the Academy we are more respectful of our peers. Now that you are hale again, you can help Steward Markov carry the planks and drapes back to the storage room beneath the testing arena.’
Therin stared comically at the stacks of splintery boards and heaps of black cloth piled at the edge of the nave. He swallowed, realising the work that lay ahead of him, then shrugged.