‘Shhh,’ Annev whispered back, though he nodded slightly.
Ahead of them, Tosan stepped atop a sturdy wooden box at the back of the platform. The Eldest of Ancients surveyed the group, saw Annev, and rolled his eyes when he saw Titus and Therin standing beside him. The silence elongated as the students stood with their eyes fixed on Tosan and their backs facing the unknown dangers beyond the platform’s edge.
‘Each of you was an orphan, saved and brought here by the witwomen,’ the headmaster said, beginning his Testing Day monologue. ‘Nobody else wanted you. Nobody would have you, except us. The ancients have raised you. Fed you. Prepared you, mentally and spiritually, for the work you were chosen to accomplish.’ Tosan beckoned Ather forward and the Master of Lies took his place beside the Eldest of Ancients.
‘The master avatars have prepared the way for you,’ Tosan said, laying his hand on Ather’s shoulder. ‘They have instructed you in the physical arts of the avatar, and someday the greatest among you will take their places.’ Ather eyed each boy in turn as Tosan lifted his hand and held one finger in the air.
‘This is your final chance to prove your worth as an avatar. This last Test of Judgement will determine who among you has ultimately earned that title … and who has not.’ The ancient fixed his glare on Annev, Therin and Titus. ‘You came to us as Acolytes of Faith. After today, many of you will become Stewards of the Academy – but perhaps there remains one more among you who is worthy to become an Avatar of Judgement.’
Ather stepped in front of the makeshift podium, struck a dramatic pose, and gestured to the testing grounds beyond the curtain wall.
‘The arena contains many paths,’ Ather said, his tone rich and resonant, ‘but only one leads to victory. To find it, you must descend and tread where you have gone before. Only then will you find the door that leads forward – to Master Edra and the final test. Everything else is a distraction. Find the door, and you will find the path.’ Ather paused, to add drama. ‘Brinden, Fyunai, Jasper, Kenton, Kellor and Janson. Please step forward.’
The six avatars stepped out of line. As they did, Kellor good-naturedly rubbed the top of Jasper’s bald head, and Brinden snorted with amusement. Kenton remained aloof, yet Fyn took that moment to glance back at Annev and grin; he knew what was coming, and he wanted Annev to see it.
‘These six avatars have already passed the Test of Judgement,’ Ather continued, ‘and having proved their skill in combat once again, they have been awarded sixty additional seconds to observe today’s test before embarking on it. That advantage will begin at the first gong. At the second gong, the rest of you may face the arena. Anyone caught cheating will be thrown from the platform.’ The Master of Lies made certain he had Annev’s attention when he said this, and for a moment Annev thought Ather might retroactively punish him. ‘You will have sixty seconds to view the arena and begin the test,’ Ather repeated. ‘The gong will sound every ten seconds, and any students still on the observation platform after one minute will be removed.’ Ather tucked a loose lock of hair back into his quiff with a predatory smile.
‘Good luck.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The master’s final words echoed across the cavernous room just as the gong rang beneath the observation deck. Taking their cue, the six avatars at the front of class turned and dashed towards the platform edge, shoving the other students aside for an unobstructed view of the magically lit testing grounds.
Having deliberately stayed at the back, Annev found himself face to face with Fyn as the bully rushed headlong at him. Annev dodged away, and the larger boy passed on, cackling. With his back to Fyn and the five other avatars, Annev’s body stayed tense as he waited out the sixty seconds before he and the other students could begin their test. Ather paced before the row of boys, practically daring them to turn around, but no one did. Half a minute in, Annev heard Fyn and the others move off and then the platform went silent. Hearing nothing but the whirr and groan of cogs and gears, Annev assumed the six avatars had left to begin the test in earnest and he tensed further, waiting for the gong to sound a second time. His stomach began to churn.
The gong sounded and chaos erupted as Annev turned and grasped the full depth and breadth of the arena.
Large towers of scaffolding dotted the open space, several reaching as high as the observation platform. Most of the rest were of middling height, but a few squatted much lower. A nest of slanted beams, criss-crossing rafters and hinged planks stretched between the towers, connecting their various tops, middles, and bottoms in one three-dimensional maze. At the edge of the arena, the outer towers spidered out to touch the wooden surrounding wall.
As Annev studied the labyrinth of wood, wire, and metal, he saw that every part was linked to a series of moving cogs and gears. Even the interconnecting scaffolding was in motion, with planks moving at different speeds or in different directions; platforms rose ten or twelve feet before abruptly dropping, turning the whole arena into a giant puzzle of erratic, ever-shifting obstacles. Finding a course through it would be a challenge.
Gong.
Fifty seconds. The ground beneath the scaffolding was covered with a thick black substance. Annev couldn’t guess what it was, so he focused on the maze itself, searching for the true path to the opposite end of the arena.
At the back of the vast room, Annev spotted a sheer tower made of tight-fitting planks, its walls shining with grease and its top well beyond the reach of any students approaching from the ground. In addition to being completely flat, the top of the tower was also long and narrow, free of the black goop that covered the floor, and capped by a familiar wooden obstacle.
‘The scissor-field,’ Annev grumbled aloud.
The scissor-field was a cradle of immense wooden beams that swung above the narrow pathway. The ends of the beams were capped with a mix of heavy blunted stones and wide axe blades, and the obstacle was a common fixture at the Tests of Judgement, appearing in almost half the tests their reap had undergone. Annev felt sick every time he saw it.
Gong.
Forty seconds. ‘I can’t see!’ a tiny voice wailed from the back of the pack.
Annev saw Titus trying – and failing – to elbow his way back to the crowded edge of the platform. A few boys had peeled away and were dropping down into the maze, but most students held their ground, awed by the complexity of this month’s challenge.
Annev couldn’t blame them – the Master of Engineering had outdone himself this time – but Annev was also relying on Titus’s observational skills to help him navigate the test.
Though it pained him to do it, he stepped away from his spot at the edge of the platform. The neighbouring boys swooped in, closing the gap, but Annev paid them no mind. He pushed his way to Titus, spun the smaller boy around, and hoisted him onto his shoulders.