‘Titus, go!’ Annev urged, keeping an eye on the boys above.
The younger boy jumped onto the moving platform, steadied himself, then ran after Therin as the narrow ramp continued to rise, inching closer to the tower wall. With a sudden alarm, Annev saw that the platform – now level with his waist – would press itself flush against the side of the tower.
Keos! Annev had waited too long. It’s going to cut me in half!
He jumped, flinging his torso onto the ramp, and pulled his legs up behind him. Just as his feet cleared the gap, the ramp snapped into place against the tower wall – and Annev was up and running. He felt the thumps behind him as Fyn, Kenton, and Brinden leapt over the edge of the tower and gave chase.
We’re doing it! Annev realised. If we can just stay ahead, we might beat them! The beams and platforms between him and the ground far below blurred together as he ran, the ramp beginning to click downward. Annev’s pace quickened, aided by the ramp’s steepening slope, but as it continued to dip, his elation suddenly morphed into fear: the ramp was dropping out from under him, exactly as Titus had warned.
Annev tore his eyes away from his feet and looked towards the far end. Therin had already reached the scissor-field. A second later, Titus arrived at the end of the narrow platform, jumped the gap, and landed beside Therin.
Annev put his head down, sprinted for the end of the ramp, and flung himself into the abyss. He flew several feet through the air, just clearing the growing gap between the ramp and the scissor-field’s top, then skidded onto his knees between the other two boys. He spun to watch the avatars behind them.
Fyn was leading the other two avatars at a steady pace down the gangplank, clearly unaware of the immediate danger. He bore a wolfish grin, fully expecting his quarry to run, yet confident he could corner Annev and the others at the end of the floating platform.
That confidence was a mistake. Annev heard a series of loud clicks echo throughout the arena as the long platform detached from the scaffolding tower they’d just left and began to fold in half. Fyn’s expression changed as the end of the ramp dropped faster and he attempted to sprint the last five feet. He jumped as the platform fell away entirely, but did so with enough force that he cleared the gap and rolled to a stop in front of Annev, Titus and Therin.
Brinden was too slow to react, and could only watch as the scissor-field passed beyond his reach. He cursed, dropping to his knees at the edge of the ramp, looking resigned to riding the thing down to the mire below.
Kenton refused to be beaten so easily. As Brinden fell to his knees and braced himself against the falling platform, the scar-faced avatar picked up speed and sprinted forward up onto Brinden’s back, using his broad shoulders as a launchpad. Surprised by the sudden weight, Brinden instinctively rose, giving Kenton the extra boost he needed. Kenton’s body slammed into the side of the tower, his arms and elbows just clearing the edge, and he heaved his dangling legs and torso up onto the safety of the higher ground with a defiant roar.
Back on the folding ramp, Brinden howled with anger as he disappeared from view.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Wow,’ Therin said as Kenton rose to his feet. ‘That was … wow.’
Kenton ignored Therin’s comment and Fyn’s sprawled body, instead turning to look back the way he had come. Annev followed his gaze and saw the mechanical ramp had completed its fold, and was proceeding along its circuitous track with Brinden nowhere in sight.
Then Annev realised Kenton wasn’t looking down towards his fallen comrade, but up – at the observation deck where Tosan, Ather and Myjun were watching the competition. Seeing he had their attention, Kenton waved awkwardly at the three observers.
Ather nodded curtly in response. Tosan and Myjun flatly ignored him.
‘Hey,’ Therin whispered, backing up while Fyn and Kenton were distracted. ‘Let’s go!’
The trio retreated to the entrance of the scissor-field, then stopped. Therin was already gazing at the gauntlet of swinging metal and stone with a frown.
‘We’ve never all gone through together,’ Titus said, echoing Annev’s thoughts.
‘We don’t have a choice,’ Annev said. ‘Fyn and Kenton will pitch anyone who hesitates over the edge.’
‘It’s fine,’ Therin said, studying the scissor-field’s swinging beams, ‘I think we can run three abreast. We just need to stick together.’
‘You sure?’
Therin glanced back at Fyn and Kenton, who had begun to argue. ‘We’ve always made it before with plenty of room to move,’ he said. ‘And I can find the new pattern if you keep them off me.’
‘I’ll watch them,’ Titus offered. ‘Neither of them trusts the other to watch his back, so we have a few seconds.’ Titus turned to face their opponents while Therin studied the scissor-field’s pendulum-like arms, counting under his breath. Annev stood beside him, entranced by the pattern. The first pendulum swung in front of the northern wall and marked the entrance to the grand gauntlet, but the rest swung on a cradle that tunnelled through the wall itself. The passageway was only just wide enough to accommodate the full height and breadth of the swinging shafts, leaving no space to climb over, around, or beneath the obstacles; the only way through the tunnel was straight through the fiendish gauntlet of swinging beams.
The beams themselves came in various shapes and sizes – some were as thick as Annev’s thigh, while others were wider than Titus’s waist. Some were faced with large round boulders, but a few had been carved into rough oblong pieces shaped like a smith’s hammer or a ram’s head. The thinner beams all carried axe blades, each one a different size and shape, and covered by a thick piece of toughened rawhide – a necessary precaution, but one that spared no bruises.
None of the scissor-field’s appendages would kill an Academy student – holes had even been dug to allow injured students to fall into the muck beneath rather than be continually pummelled by the scissor-field. All the same, the brutality of the machine made it clear that the Academy allowed no half measures when training their recruits. The scissor-field had proved this by injuring several students and maiming one boy in their reap.
Samrel, Annev thought, trying not to remember the look on the boy’s face after the stone struck him in the temple, or how Master Aog had calmly taken an axe to the boy’s head after the accident.
‘Dead weight,’ he had said dispassionately. ‘He’d have never recovered. Best to end it now.’
‘I’ve got it!’ Therin said, pulling Annev back to the present. ‘On the count of three, run straight through to the arm with the pig’s head on the end. We’ll have to dodge a bit on the way, so don’t go too fast, and don’t go past the pig.’
‘Too fast?’ Annev repeated, just as Titus said, ‘Wait. What are we dodging?’
Therin smiled. ‘You’ll see.’
Titus looked at Annev. ‘I’m not sure this is a good—’
‘One!’
‘Are we running after three or—’