A Race of Trials

  “So what’s the deal?” I asked Jenney. “Do we just march on down there? Or do we need to wait for Ruby and Ash?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. Humans, other than Hazel, have never been invited to an official dinner before.”

  “I say we go solo,” Benedict replied. “We got invited after all. I don’t want to hang around here all evening waiting till Ruby decides she’s ready. Girls her age can take a lifetime.”

  It was a fair point. I just wasn’t sure how prepared I was to face a room full of sentries. Jenney had been working us hard on the mind strengthening, but I didn’t seem to be making much progress. I kept returning to the swords, knowing deep down that it was all pretty futile. If a sentry wanted to delve into my brain and leech out my energy then there wouldn’t be a whole lot I could do about it. The thought was depressing.

  “Well, if you’re so eager to get down there, lead the way.” I relented.

  “Don’t forget that I’ll be around. When you enter the main hallway, you’ll see a small door at the far end, opposite the arches. If anything happens, or if you need me, just go through that door. It will lead you straight to the servant quarters,” Jenney instructed. “Just try not to annoy anyone.”

  She glared at me when she said it, but I didn’t need the reminder. I wasn’t about to go and piss off a bunch of sentries just for the hell of it.

  “Good luck!” Yelena said merrily, waving at us both. I waved back, but Benedict just glared at her. Her face fell momentarily when she caught his look, and she looked lost for a moment.

  “You have got to be nicer to her,” I hissed at him. “What’s your problem?”

  “Nothing! She’s just really annoying. She thinks she knows everything,” he retorted. “It’s always ‘no, Benedict, this way; Benedict, that’s a stupid name; blah, blah, blah,’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “Ugh.”

  I sighed. I might not get what his deal was, but at least he looked a bit more alive today—he didn’t look as zombiefied as he had recently.

  “How are you sleeping, has it gotten any better?” I asked.

  Benedict groaned again. “I wish everyone would stop asking—first Jenney, then Ruby and now you. I’m fine.”

  “We’re just worried about you. You haven’t been the same since we found that stupid corridor. Do you still dream about it?”

  “Will you just drop it!” Benedict huffed angrily. “I said I’m fine—I’m fine.”

  “Okay, okay… keep your shirt on,” I muttered. Fine, my ass. But I dropped the subject. We were nearing the hall anyway, and I could hear a band tuning up and chairs being dragged back and forth across the stone floor.

  A black-robed sentry stood waiting at the entrance, and he raised his eyebrows at us as we approached.

  I hesitated, not sure what the protocol was.

  “Um, hello. We’re Benedict and Julian.”

  The sentry nodded, and slowly looked us up and down. His face broke into what I assumed was meant to be a smile, but came out as a sickly grimace.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “You’re to sit with your fellow humans, but they haven’t arrived yet. They’ll be using the champions’ entrance.”

  He gestured to the arched columns that stood at one end of the room.

  “You should stand to the side for now, and then sit when they’ve been seated.”

  We both nodded and stood where he’d indicated—by the side of the wall. At least we got a good view of the last-minute preparations. I’d never seen any part of the castle look this opulent and lavish.

  The vulture heads that lined the circumference of the room were almost completely obscured by large wreaths of tree boughs, and the air smelt of pinecones and fresh air. Candles were lit on every available surface, and the banqueting tables themselves, which were easily long enough to seat a hundred each, were covered in an ivy-type plant that ran the length of them and entwined in the gold and silver goblets and tableware.

  I’d been right about the band. A group of plain-clothed sentries were setting up in the corner, near the small wooden door that Jenney had told us was the servants’ entrance. They were tuning the type of instruments I would have expected at a medieval feast—objects that looked like lutes and harps.

  “I feel like we’ve gone back in time a couple of centuries,” I whispered to Benedict.

  Soon an influx of ministers arrived and all started to take their seats at the tables. They spoke in low tones, muttering constantly between themselves. They certainly didn’t look like they were in a feast kind of mood. Most of their faces wore the same dour expression I’d always seen.

  The band started to play a low, warbling song and the ministers’ murmurings became hushed. When the band stopped, one of the ministers stepped forward from behind the archways.

  “Welcome! All of you. As most of you know, tonight we are gathered to celebrate the halfway point of the trials, and to commend the champions who have participated in the trials thus far, and the ones who continue to do so. Our host, Prince Tejus of Hellswan, thanks you all for coming, and hopes you all have a wonderful evening ahead.”

  The ministers rapped their knuckles on the table in appreciation. It made me think of some secret sect where they had special handshakes and rituals that involved slaughtering baby goats.

  The minister started to announce the champions. He began with the ones who had already been knocked out—these came without their humans, but were seated to a round of short table-rapping from the ministers. The defeated champions looked downcast as their names were read out, bowing once and then proceeding to their assigned seats.

  Eventually the minister reached the champions who were still in the running. They strode proudly through the archways to applause from the already seated champions. Apparently most would be putting the competitive spirit behind them tonight, but I wondered how well Ash and Tejus would manage that.

  “Next up is Ashbik, and his human Ruby! Ashbik is currently in the lead with seventy points!” the minister exclaimed, though it sounded forced and hollow. Whenever Ash entered the trial fields the applause was deafening. In a room mostly full of ministers, the applause was nothing more than a polite flurry.

  “Wow. They really don’t like him, do they?” Benedict whispered.

  Before I could reply, the sentry who had been at the door walked over to where we were standing.

  “You can sit with your fellow human now,” he said, indicating at the chairs next to Ruby and Ash. We both muttered our thanks and hurried to the seats, not wanting to stay in the sight line of the seated sentries for too long.

  “You came!” Ruby whispered. “How are you both?”

  “Okay,” I replied, as Benedict turned to watch as Tejus and Hazel walked in.

  “Last but by no means least is Prince Tejus Hellswan and his human Hazel. The prince is only twenty points behind Ashbik!” the minister announced grandly, and a large applause swept through the banquet hall.

  Hazel saw us and waved, trotting over toward us so that Tejus had no other choice but to follow. He didn’t look remotely pleased at the thought of sitting with us, but I doubted he ever looked particularly pleased about anything.

  “Looks like we’re both in the lead,” Hazel muttered to Ruby.

  “I think it’s well deserved,” Ruby replied, wetting her lower lip. “You can’t deny though that the caterpillar was a lucky break.”

  Hazel nodded, but it was clearly half-hearted. I had known the two of them long enough to recognize when tension was brewing. And you could cut this one with a knife.

  I looked over at Benedict. He looked worriedly back at me.

  This was ridiculous. I had known the girls to argue over stupid things—who made the better James Bond, what was so-and-so’s best album, who was better with the crossbow—but they were always short-lived and light-hearted. To be getting competitive over the trials, as if they mattered other than as a tool to get us out of here, was so dumb.

  Are they really ta
king it so seriously?

  “One more announcement before the feast starts.” The minister clapped his hands for attention and addressed the room. “As you know, there will now be a few days’ rest before the contest resumes. Use it wisely. During this time off, I have one small piece of advice for our champions, which is to know your surroundings in preparation for the next trial!”

  Murmurs erupted from the table. The champions looked skeptical and I could understand why—it was hardly much to go on. Ash and Ruby started talking together in low voices, while Tejus and Hazel did the same. Their backs turned away from one another, and to me it so obviously symbolized the rift that was growing between us. It wasn’t just the girls. With Benedict refusing to talk about what was going on, I felt that we were all drifting into our own, different experiences of Nevertide, and it wasn’t a good thing.

  The ministers’ clue, know your surroundings, may not have been that helpful for the champions, but it sparked an idea in me.

  We had been so focused on waiting for the outcome of the trials and leaving our fate in the hands of the sentries that none of us had given proper thought to what we could do in the meantime. The team we’d assembled was all well and good, but it had quickly become a way to help develop counter-measures against the sentries in the event they might pose some harm later down the line. But what we hadn’t done was taken any immediate action. Just because we’d tried to exit through one location within the kingdom, it didn’t necessarily mean that the entire circumference of the boundary would be as strong as that one. Presumably it was the collective power of the ministers keeping it in place—but with the trials taking place and the disorder within the castle, who was to say that there weren’t some areas where they’d been more lax in the upkeep of the borders?

  “Benedict,” I breathed into his ear so softly I could barely hear myself. “I’ve just had an idea… we should take the others out and check some of the areas where the boundaries might not be that strong. All we’d need is a map—then we can locate areas we think might be weaker.”

  Benedict looked doubtful. “It’s a bit of a stab in the dark, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah, but we should still try at least.”

  He shrugged. “I guess we can try. We shouldn’t get our hopes up though.”

  I turned away from him before I said something I would regret. His lackluster response wasn’t what I wanted to hear. It also wasn’t the Benedict I knew—the kid who was up for anything, no matter how stupid, dangerous or ridiculous it seemed. He was back to his lethargic state again.

  I stared dully at my plate. It had been filled with some grayish-brown gruel and looked like a science experiment gone wrong. I poked it unenthusiastically. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hazel doing the same. She noticed me looking at her.

  “How are the kids doing, Julian?” she asked, turning away from Tejus for a moment.

  Before I could reply, one of the champions loomed over her shoulder. He was tall, like they all were, and not as broad as Tejus, with over-groomed hair.

  “You look beautiful, Hazel.” He leered down at her. “I’ve just heard that the band will be starting shortly. May I take the liberty of asking you for the first dance?”

  What?

  I waited for Hazel to tell him to back the hell off, but she blushed slightly and then… rose from her chair.

  Are you kidding me?

  Ruby and Ash was bad enough, but this was a step too far. Had we all completely forgotten that these sentries were the enemy?

  I looked over at Tejus. The only consolation was that Hazel’s acceptance had clearly infuriated him. His face was like thunder—he looked even more pissed off than he usually did.

  A few seats down, Ash and Ruby were still stuck in their own little world. Benedict was staring into space, occasionally stabbing his gruel and looking lost.

  I’d had enough.

  I rose from my chair, but not one of them looked over at me. I wasn’t going to sit here a moment longer and pretend that everything was okay—that we hadn’t been kidnapped by a bunch of tall energy-sucking leeches who had then locked us in their dimension.

  “I’ll see you back at the room,” I muttered to Benedict.

  “See you,” he murmured back, barely glancing in my direction.

  There were crowds of ministers everywhere, so I avoided the entrance that we’d come in. Instead I made my way to the small servants’ door. I passed Hazel on my way, encased in the arms of the champion as they danced. She was smiling at something he’d said, and didn’t see me.

  I tutted in disgust, and wove my way to the door.

  Just as I approached it, Jenney came out carrying a gallon of liquid in both hands.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, studying my face.

  “No—no, I’m not all right,” I replied angrily. “I’m sick to death of sentries. And these humans”—I gestured over to my friends—“are behaving like everything’s okay. And it’s not. The lot of them are leeches, sucking off us as if we’re blood bags. I’ve had enough of it.”

  Jenney jerked her head back at the ferocity of my words.

  “We’re not all like that,” she replied softly.

  I belatedly realized that I’d just insulted her. But I was too angry to care.

  “Most of you, then,” I hissed.

  She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. Tough. I’d upset her, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her feelings—it wasn’t like ours had ever been taken into account.

  I stormed off through the door without looking back.

  Hazel

  I woke, bleary-eyed, to the greenish glow of the crystals in my blackout room. I’d had a strange dream last night, probably the result of drinking too much of the strange berry drink I’d been given at the banquet. I’d only had two glassfuls and I didn’t think it was alcoholic, but its effect seemed akin to wine.

  In my dream I’d been dancing with that guy Nikolay, just as we had been earlier on in the evening, but our surroundings were completely different—we had been in a moonlit garden, on a vast lawn which had an opulent marble fountain that we danced around. In the far distance there was a huge oak tree, and elsewhere on the lawn small clusters of trees in a circular pattern were growing intermittently a few yards apart. I’d stopped dancing, left Nikolay by the fountain and gone to look at them. When I peered through the branches of the first one, I found two snow-white swans circling on a small pool. In the second one, the pool was blood red, and the bodies of the swans floated on top of it. I rushed to the third tree cluster, and found the same. In a state of panic, I’d looked up at the oak tree in the distance. Tejus was standing beneath it, the Hellswan sword in his hand, its blade bright red.

  There was a short rap on my door.

  “Hazel, wake up.” Tejus’s short call was my good morning salutation.

  I reluctantly emerged, and Tejus gave me some space to bathe and dress, and then consume some fresh fruit the servants had brought up to his living quarters. As I ate breakfast he sat opposite me, not taking a bite and watching me with barely concealed impatience.

  “What’s the plan, then?” I asked when I was finished.

  “I want to take you somewhere,” he replied shortly. “It may be of interest to you.”

  I was intrigued. No doubt there would be an alternate motive. The words of the minister last night rung in my ears—know your surroundings. But I was used to that by now. I only hoped this place would be out and away from the castle. The gray stone walls, matching a gray day, were starting to get to me.

  “Is it outside?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He looked at me quizzically but I didn’t elaborate. “Are you done?”

  “I’m done.”

  He rose swiftly and led the way out of his living quarters and down into the main hall. The castle felt sleepy—there were fewer sentries than normal milling about, and I guessed that most of them would be sleeping off the effects of last night.

  No such luxury
for me.

  “We will take a vulture,” Tejus said as we entered the courtyard.

  Ugh.

  My stomach did a queasy flip. While the vultures were magnificent, flying on them scared the crap out of me—and it was an even less appealing prospect today.

  We approached the cage where the royal vultures were kept. Tejus opened it up and took a step inside. The vulture he caught hold of was instantly docile, no doubt subjected to Tejus’ mind power as the sentry pulled the humongous bird from the cage before closing the door behind it.

  Tejus stroked the short feathers on its neck, while its great hooked beak bowed to the ground in greeting. I approached with more caution, unnerved by the beady black eye that watched me carefully.

  “Ready?” Tejus asked. Without waiting for a reply, he wrapped his hands round my waist and lifted me onto the back of the bird. He launched himself up behind me in a single graceful jump. I felt only mildly more secure as he locked his arms around my waist.

  “Stop fidgeting,” he murmured.

  “I can’t help it! I feel like I’m going to fall off at any moment.”

  I couldn’t see his expression but I could gather from the slight huff that he was irritated.

  “You’re not going to fall off,” he replied in a more measured tone. “Just try to… enjoy it.”

  Enjoy it. That wasn’t a very Tejus-like thing to say.

  A second later the bird was in flight. I felt a few jolts as it got off the ground, and then the smoother sensation of its glide as the castle disappeared beneath us and Hellswan’s landscape unfolded inch by inch as we rose higher in the air. From this height I could almost see the slight wavering and almost liquid-like motion of the barriers that covered the kingdom, blocking us off from the rest of (what I assumed was) the supernatural dimension.

  We moved far away from the castle and its closest village, passing other sprawling buildings and hamlets that lay shadowed in the valley of a snow-peaked mountain range. We flew higher still, soaring up the incline of the mountains, and then right over its ragged pinnacle.