‘I wasn’t going to compete for myself today – I just wanted you or Annev to win – but if there’s a chance we can all advance together, then yeah. That’d be great.’
Annev nodded, satisfied. ‘Great. Then I have a plan.’ The three boys huddled close, whispering, as their reap descended the last set of stairs.
A minute later, Edra halted at the end of the long subterranean hall that led to the arena’s imposing stone doors. Leaning against the wall outside the entrance was a tall man, lean-faced with a thin moustache and artfully coiffed brown hair. Like Edra, he wore a red tunic, a pair of soft black boots and sturdy black leggings. The man smiled, stood straight, and greeted Edra with a firm handshake and keen eyes.
‘Master Edra! Punctual and punctilious – as always.’
‘I don’t know what that means,’ Edra grumbled, sidling up to the other master, ‘nor do I care.’ He looked out over the crowd of boys, most of whom were still chatting with each other. The students’ voices echoed down the long hall until Edra yelled.
‘QUIET!’
The chattering cut off, and even at the back of the line, Annev and his friends ended their whispered discussion. Silence filled the chamber, and when the masters spoke again, Annev could hear every word.
The Master of Lies placed a slender middle finger to his eardrum and shook his head. ‘I hope that wasn’t aimed at me,’ he drawled. ‘Punctual means you’re on time, Edra. It’s a compliment. And punctilious—’
‘Not today, Ather. Fancy words don’t impress me.’
Ather’s eyes gleamed as his gaze danced over the assembled boys. ‘Come now, Master Edra, these young minds need role models – good ones.’ He tapped the Master of Arms on the chest. ‘You’re not so bad – a bit grumpy, perhaps, but dependable. Sturdy. Something for our boys to aspire to, as a master avatar.’ He waved his hand with a flourish.
Edra grimaced. ‘Enough. My head feels like it’s stuffed with wool.’
Ather hmmed thoughtfully to himself, roaming down the hall as he moved with an energy that refused to be contained. ‘Too much honeywine last night, if I don’t miss my guess.’ He reached the end of the line, smiled at the acolytes, then winked. ‘You need to pace yourself during the festival, boys,’ he hollered, ‘or you’ll never make it to the third night of Regaleus!’
Edra scowled in Ather’s direction then wandered down the hall to rejoin him. ‘It’s that damn Duvarek,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Made me start drinking early yesterday since he had to go on a retrieval mission.’
‘And how is our dear Master of Shadows?’ Ather pirouetted around Edra for the pure pleasure of it.
‘I’m surprised Dove could walk out of here,’ Edra said, ignoring his colleague’s antics. ‘If I drank half as much as that man, my liver would revolt.’
‘And yet the ancients choose to send him instead of me,’ Ather said, his feet still tapping in front of him. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say they had favourites.’
‘You really want to know why?’ Annev inched closer, interested in Edra’s reply. ‘It’s because you pack half your wardrobe every time – and you’ll take a week if you take a day. It’s inefficient, Ather. Been that way ever since you were an acolyte. No challenge too great so long as you could change your outfit twice.’
Ather suddenly stood still. ‘That’s unkind, Edra. A Master of Lies needs time to prepare himself and his mark. Silver must be spent. Confidences must be won. You can’t just smash and grab and expect results – no offence intended, of course.’
Edra grunted, barely registering the jab.
‘Preparation is not always a bad thing,’ Ather continued. ‘Some things take a fortnight to do right.’
Edra shrugged. ‘You asked and I answered. Duvarek is fast, and he’s good. Doesn’t waste time when he’s out. No loose threads. No witnesses.’
‘Isn’t that how you operate? And yet you’re sent out even less often than I am.’
‘I wager that I care a good deal less, too.’ Edra grinned. ‘Anyway, I usually leave a mess behind, because if the Academy’s sent me it means they want to send a message. They send you for information or manipulation. If they want the damn artifact, though, they send Dove.’
A metal gong sounded deep within the bowels of the Academy, ending their conversation and making the boys shuffle with nerves. As the sound of the gong faded, the arena’s huge stone doors swung open, swivelling on a metal track of iron and oil. Once the doors ceased moving, Ather led the line of young men into the great hall.
As Annev approached the entrance to the testing arena, the steady hum of ratcheting metal, whirring gears and spinning cogs filled his ears. It wasn’t until he entered the hall, though, that he saw that the source of the cacophony was hidden behind a tall wooden barrier just a few yards beyond the main door.
The last of the acolytes entered the chamber. ‘Good luck, boys,’ the Master of Arms rumbled as Annev and his friends passed. ‘Hopefully I’ll see one of you at the end.’
Annev felt Edra’s gaze rest on him as he spoke. He glanced at his friends and saw they had noticed it, too. Sensing their doubt, he spoke out.
‘You’ll see all three of us, Master Edra.’
The Master of Arms shook his head and closed the doors behind them.
Ahead, Ather had reached the wooden wall and turned right, leading the students towards a staircase halfway along the great barrier. As the three friends caught up with their classmates, Annev looked up at the thirty-foot wall hiding the testing grounds from view, then further up to the five glass spheres illuminating the great arena; unlike torches, these luminous spheres never wavered and were among the scant dozen magic treasures the ancients had deemed acceptable for public use.
As Annev’s gaze travelled back down the length of the wall, he caught his foot and stumbled into Therin, who in turn knocked over Titus.
‘Sorry!’ Annev apologised, helping his blond friend to his feet. He glanced back and saw he had tripped on the inset ring of a small trapdoor. He kicked the lock in irritation, and they hurried up the tall wooden staircase after their classmates.
The students climbed in silence, winding their way back and forth until the top of the wooden wall came into view. When they could almost see beyond the top of the barricade, the stairs turned and opened on to a narrow observation deck. Ather directed them towards the back, instructing them to turn away from the arena and keep their eyes on Elder Tosan.
Although Ather’s body obscured the view, Annev stepped out of line and glimpsed what lay beyond the precipice: in the bright glow of the light-orbs, he saw a dozen swinging pendulums, a maze of criss-crossing wooden beams, and something at the centre of the maze that looked like a churning stone mill. A tall tower stood above it, and a long narrow walkway extended from the centre, jutting out into empty space.
Then Ather was there – blocking Annev’s view entirely.
‘Get. Into. The line,’ Ather hissed.
Annev stepped back and hurried to join his friends.
‘You saw it?’ Therin whispered.