Page 9 of The Test


  “Good job, Webber,” said Lintz.

  “Good job, Professor,” he countered, with a small smile. There were undoubtedly more mini-challenges ahead; it wasn’t yet the time for patting each other on the back.

  Clutching the letter tightly, Alex and Lintz carried on through the labyrinth, peering nervously around corners, in case there was anything unpleasant lurking in the tunnels beyond. As they walked, they kept their eyes peeled for whatever might come next. It turned out to be a riddle, etched on the wall.

  “What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?” Alex read aloud, his eyes glancing over the pattern of alphabet letters that had been pressed into the stone.

  “Easy!” cried Lintz. “This one was around when I was a child!”

  Alex frowned. “You know the answer?”

  “Yes, it’s the letter ‘M’—get it?”

  “I’ll have to remember that one.” Even though he knew the professor must be right, Alex felt a shiver of trepidation as Lintz approached the board of alphabet letters and pressed down hard on the letter “M.” As it was pushed inwards, the letter “Y” popped out of the board and fell to the ground. Alex picked it up.

  As they carried on, Alex’s mind turned to Ellabell and Aamir. Were they collecting letters too? How far along were they in the labyrinth? He glanced over at Lintz and saw his own worry reflected back at him in the professor’s expression.

  They hurried onwards, having to turn back a few times after taking the wrong fork in the road and coming to a dead end. The labyrinth had low visibility, lit only by the flicker of torches and the glow of some unknown substance lurking in the walls, and Alex and Lintz kept missing entrances in the stone that were shrouded by shadow.

  Eventually, after a lot of missed turns, a burst of inspiration seared into his mind—the forced image of a small statue with a tangle of vines above, camouflaging a letter hidden in the wall, zinging into his brain, vivid and unexpected. Knowing what it meant, he insisted they go back.

  “It’s this way. I know it is,” he promised.

  “How do you know?” asked Lintz, his tone dubious.

  Alex shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I just feel like we missed something.”

  Lintz said nothing else, seeming to go along with the plan, as Alex led the way. At a small statue, Alex paused, and looked up to find the intertwined curtain of dark green vines that he had seen in his mind’s eye. Delving into the thorny weeds, the barbed points scratching his forearms, he found what he was looking for, buried within the center. With a great heave, he tugged the letter free of the wall and removed it from the spiny bushel.

  Lintz eyed him curiously. “How did you know that was there?”

  “I just… knew,” he replied. To try and explain that Elias was somehow in his brain, without yet having confirmation of the fact, wasn’t a conversation he felt like having at that particular moment. It was still something he was trying to come to terms with.

  In his hand, he held the letter “H,” though it meant little to him. Together, they had the letters “P,” “Y,” and “H,” but he couldn’t picture the word they might make.

  “Any idea what it means?” Alex asked.

  Lintz shook his head. “Afraid not, dear boy, though I have been wracking my brains a good long while. I’m sure it will come to us, with a few more clues.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said Alex, decidedly less optimistic.

  With the three letters gathered, they headed back through the tunnels, treading carefully. Alex was still convinced there were going to be traps set around every corner, but so far, they had come across none. Much of the labyrinth looked the same, and so it came as quite a surprise when they abruptly found themselves at the end of it, arriving at a door with six blank squares on the wall beside it. Above the squares were the words “The Goddess of Lost Souls.” Sticking out of the wall beneath the squares was a demonic head, sculpted from pure silver, its savage mouth agape. It reminded Alex of a guardian to the gates of Hell, ready to snap its jaws at anyone unworthy. Wasn’t that what Hadrian had said? Only the truly worthy would be able to attain the prize. He could only pray he’d done enough to prove himself.

  “Any idea who the goddess of lost souls is?” Alex asked, glancing at Lintz.

  Lintz toyed with his moustache. “I believe it to be Psyche, if memory serves—though it’s something of a sieve these days,” he murmured.

  The sound of footsteps nearby distracted Alex. There was a scuffling in the second passageway that led to the end of the labyrinth, followed by the joyful emergence of Ellabell and Aamir, who looked no worse for wear, aside from the fact that Aamir was drenched from head to foot and a pool of red had begun to emerge again from the bandage on his hand. In Ellabell’s hands were three letters, letting Alex know that the task had been successfully completed, provided that they were in fact the right letters.

  “What happened to you?” Alex asked Aamir, trying not to laugh.

  Aamir frowned. “There was a waterfall,” he explained, giving little else away.

  “He was very valiant,” Ellabell chimed in, making Alex feel a slight pinch of jealousy.

  “You’re too kind.” Aamir smiled, not seeing the look Alex was giving him.

  Lintz cut in, in his usual, oblivious manner. “Please tell us you’ve got ‘S,’ ‘C,’ and ‘E?’”

  “How did you know?” Ellabell marveled.

  “Well, we have ‘P,’ ‘Y,’ and ‘H,’ and I believe we need to spell out the word ‘Psyche.’”

  “She’s the goddess of lost souls?” Ellabell asked.

  Lintz nodded. “She certainly is—a protector of sorts, in ancient mythology.”

  Ellabell handed over her letters, and Lintz fixed all six into place within the blank squares. They waited in anticipation for the sound of the door grating, or the creak of it swinging open, but nothing happened.

  “Did you put them in right?” Alex asked, casting a glance toward the spelled-out word.

  “I could have sworn I did,” Lintz replied, pressing the letters in deeper. Still, nothing happened. He tried spelling it backwards, jumbling up the letters, spelling it forwards again, but still, nothing.

  “Do we have to say something, maybe?” Alex suggested. It being the only idea they had, they began to shout, “The goddess of lost souls” at the letters, followed by “Psyche,” but again, nothing happened.

  Did we miss something? Alex wondered to himself.

  It seemed this task wasn’t so simple after all.

  Chapter 12

  As their voices died down, and Alex began to feel a little foolish, something wispy swept down from above the door. For a moment, he thought it was Elias, but the vapor was a misty white instead of Elias’s trademark black.

  “Quick, close your eyes!” Alex cried, believing it to be a specter.

  From behind the darkness of his own eyelids, he heard a voice. “I am a messenger. I come with a warning,” the voice whispered, with an eerie, musical lilt.

  “It might be a trick. Keep them closed!” Alex insisted.

  “It is no trick. I am no specter. I am a messenger—I come with a warning,” the voice repeated.

  Anxiously, Alex opened one lid partway. Ahead of him, he saw the ghostly form of an old man, the features shifting in and out of clarity. He didn’t look like a specter, but more like the crying woman he had helped in the room full of masks. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for somebody to acknowledge him.

  “And what is your warning?” Alex asked with trepidation.

  “You have been penalized for receiving outside assistance, and, as such, one of your number is required to pull the lever inside the mouth of the demon,” the apparition spoke. “Be warned, this person must stay behind. The rest will go on ahead, with only a slight chance of reunion once the trials are complete.”

  “What? What outside help?” said Alex gruffly.

  The apparition whorled in the air, revealing an image of the da
rk room with the jangling chains on the walls. Inside the vision were Alex and his friends, but there was something else, too: a flash moved across the image, just for a moment, pausing beside Ellabell. Although the shape and face were impossible to make out, Alex knew what he was seeing in the vision being played back to him. Elias had been following them through the vault, and it looked as if the shadow-man had genuinely intended to help, though it had been misguided.

  Alex was of two minds as to whether this warning was real, or simply part of the test. If they hadn’t received assistance, would they still be required to leave someone behind? Alex guessed they would. This place was intended to challenge them, doing whatever was necessary to push them, and prove Alex, in particular, a worthy recipient of the book.

  The vision vanished, the messenger disappearing with it.

  “I’ll stay,” said Alex, before anyone else could speak.

  Ellabell shook her head. “You can’t stay—you’re the one who needs to go and get the book. It has to be one of us. You don’t get to step in this time.”

  Alex knew she was right, but didn’t like it one bit. “There has to be another way.”

  Lintz stepped up. “I’m afraid Ellabell is right, dear boy. It has to be one of us. You heard what the warning said.”

  “I’ll do it,” Aamir insisted.

  “No way,” said Ellabell. “I don’t mind doing it.”

  “As the oldest among you, I believe it should be me who does the deed,” Lintz added, moving closer to the demon’s gaping mouth.

  Before Alex could process what had happened, Ellabell had darted past the professor and shoved her hand into the mouth, pulling hard on the lever inside. With a metallic clank, the jaws snapped shut, locking her hand in place. It didn’t appear to hurt her at all, though she winced as the teeth crashed down, but it worked like a large cuff, trapping her there.

  “What did you do that for?” Alex gaped, unable to believe his eyes.

  She gave a half smile. “I don’t want us wasting any more time discussing who should take the fall.”

  “What if we can’t get you out?” Alex ran a panicked hand through his hair. “What if I can’t get the book, and you—”

  “You’re worthy, Alex. You will complete the trials, and I’ll be there to meet you at the end,” she murmured, no trace of fear on her face.

  “I can’t believe you—” His words were cut off by the sound of the door opening.

  “Just go, Alex. Hurry up and get this thing, so we can all get out of here!” she urged, silencing any further attempt of his to tell her she’d done something stupid.

  “Come on, Alex. The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back for Ellabell,” Aamir said, grabbing Alex by the arm.

  Lintz helped Aamir, though there was reluctance on both their faces as they dragged Alex through the door. Somehow, even with the two of them holding him, he managed to wrestle free, turning back and running for the doorway, only to have it slam in his face just as he reached it. The last thing he saw was Ellabell’s face, her blue eyes wide as she disappeared from sight.

  “Why did you do that?” he shouted, turning on the other two.

  “Alex, you have a task here, and that is where your priority lies. Ellabell will be fine, but only if we can succeed in this task. If we don’t, who knows what might happen to her?” Lintz reasoned.

  Alex shook his head in disbelief. “So we have to go on without her.”

  Aamir rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “This is not easy for any of us.”

  Alex knew they were right, and yet her face haunted him as they pressed on down a long, narrow corridor. Part of him felt angry with her for doing something so reckless, and he found he couldn’t stop thinking about what she had begun to say in the mask room. It made him wonder if that was why she’d done it, to prove a point, to get him to see something he didn’t understand. All he knew was that he couldn’t get the image of her, trapped all alone, waiting back there, out of his head. It was hard to keep his mind focused. His thoughts were brought back from the brink of distraction by the sight that beheld him as they stepped through the plain-looking door at the far end of the corridor and entered the room beyond.

  It made Alex’s stomach plummet.

  They were standing in the biggest library he had ever seen, bigger than the one at Stillwater, bigger than the one at Spellshadow, bigger than he had thought a library could be.

  This has got to be some kind of joke, he thought bitterly. There were more books in this library than they could ever scope out in a lifetime, much less a few hours. The shelves seemed to stretch into infinity, each one several stories high.

  “Should we just start looking?” Aamir suggested.

  Alex shrugged. “What else can we do?” he muttered. “Just remember, we’re looking for the Book of Jupiter.”

  Splitting up, the trio wandered into the stacks. It was hopeless, and Alex knew it, but he tried to stick with the plan, riffling through the rows upon rows of dusty tomes. There were some books of interest, which he’d have liked to look over if he’d had more time, but none of them were the Book of Jupiter. Despite the subject sections within the library, giving it a vague organizational set-up, he knew it would take forever to find the book—if they were even looking in the right place. There didn’t seem to be a section for ‘Spellbreaker’ or even ‘Spells’.

  Thinking there must be a method to the madness, Alex tried to narrow down the search, looking for books on planets, and Spellbreakers, and anything else he thought might be related to the book, but it all came up empty. Aamir had headed toward the very back of the library, and was making his way back up to where Alex was, a defeated look upon his face.

  “Anything?” Alex asked.

  Aamir shook his head. “Nothing, unless you’re a big fan of… let’s say, Renaissance art?”

  Alex smiled, catching Aamir’s meaning, but it quickly faded in the face of the task at hand. In a library so big, it seemed impossible. Just then, he passed a large green book with the words A Gentleman’s Honor embossed on the spine. It gave him an idea, or part of one, at any rate.

  “We need to look for Orpheus’s book,” Alex said excitedly.

  Aamir nodded. “Of course, the book containing the twelve virtues!”

  “You found something?” Lintz called, from a squat stack he was investigating.

  “We need to find Orpheus’s book,” Alex repeated.

  “Goodness, of course!” Lintz bellowed, following the others into the stacks.

  Alex clambered up one of the ladders that leant against the vast stacks, and found it up on one of the top rows, under the section marked “Philosophy.” It wasn’t nearly as impressive as he’d expected it to be, taking up only a slim space on the shelf, the cover a dull, dusty brown. He reached out to pull it from the shelf, only to find it stuck. He tugged harder, determined to free it, but it simply wouldn’t budge.

  “Alex, you might want to come and see this!” Aamir yelled from way below.

  “I’ve found the book, but it’s stuck on something!” he called back.

  “Forget about the book—I think you’ve done what you were intended to do,” Aamir shouted up.

  Puzzled, Alex clambered back down the stacks and headed for the front of the library, where Aamir was gazing up at something that hadn’t been there before. A big clockwork diorama of the solar system had emerged from a false wall beside the huge marble fireplace. The planets, forged from smoothed precious stones, rotated slowly around the central sun. Lintz was gazing at it too, though his eyes had grown so large Alex feared they might fall out.

  “What is it?” Alex asked.

  “My dear boy, this is our solar system,” Lintz gaped, his eyes following the tick of the clockwork.

  Alex smiled. “No, I know that, but what does it have to do with what we’re looking for?”

  “Darned if I know,” Lintz murmured. He began tinkering with the mechanisms, smoothing his hands over the shiny components like they w
ere rare jewels.

  “Professor, can you move Jupiter to the highest point on the clock-face?” Alex asked, an idea blossoming in his mind.

  With a bemused expression, Lintz followed the instruction, pushing the large red orb that symbolized Jupiter up to the twelve o’clock point. With a loud click, a secret compartment opened at the base of the structure. Inside the tray lay a book—a big, ancient thing.

  The title was emblazoned on the front in bronze lettering: The Book of Jupiter.

  At the very bottom of the compartment was the word “Success” beside the number eleven. Eleven? Alex frowned. That means there is still one task to go. It was a blow. Alex had thought that finding the book would be the last step, but it appeared that the vault had other ideas.

  As Alex reached for the book, the same ghostly apparition that had appeared at the door where they’d left Ellabell floated into existence once more. Alex knew it couldn’t be a good sign, considering what this ghost had told them last time.

  “I come with your final challenge,” the ghost spoke, in that same lilting voice.

  “And what is our final challenge?” Alex asked, fearful of the answer.

  “In order to receive the prize you desire, one of your own must vouch for the one who will use it. This person must give up their life and remain within the vault. Death will not be immediate, but shall come when there is no nourishment left,” the ghost explained. “There will be no way out, and no hope of salvation. This is the price.”

  Alex flashed a worried look at his friends. “It can’t be me?”

  “If you are the one who seeks the prize, then you cannot vouch for your own worthiness,” the ghost replied curtly. “Whoever is going to give their life in return, you must reach up to the orb of Jupiter and say, ‘I vouch for this person. They are worthy of the prize.’ You shall remain within the orb until the others have departed, when you will be returned to the library. Now, you do not have the luxury of time to decide—you have only until the time runs out, or the vault will take a life that will not be returned, as you will have failed your final task.”