Chapter Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
Jamie Fallows, a third-year student from Agate, is dead.
I was brought to the headmaster’s office and interrogated, but yet again they couldn’t pin this on me.
I wouldn’t poison my own cup of coffee. Neither could I have predicted that Jamie would steal the cup from my tray and drink it.
Which only meant one thing. I was the target. It should have been me.
According to Tilly, Jamie’s body is being prepared beneath the Opal tower to be sent home to his family. All units have been notified of what happened and everyone seems to be on edge. First Harley, now Jamie.
It should have been me.
Nicks is furious. He pulled me out of Bartollo’s office and escorted me to the Training Centre himself, where I’m now stood beside Moira and the other first years. Apparently even though a student died this morning, I still have combat class.
‘War doesn’t wait for anyone, Miss Nocthare,’ Nicks informs me, leaving to stalk to the front of the class and stand beside our combat leaders.
It’s bizarre to me how cold and callous this world can be when it comes to death. Apparently, it seems Nicks only cares when it’s a student from his unit. When it comes to anyone else, it’s back to business.
The first-year students give me a wide berth, while also shooting quick glances my way that range from curious and wary to downright furious. Someone tried to poison me, and somehow that’s my fault. And nobody knows who did it or how.
‘Attention!’ Nicks shouts. My gaze snaps up. ‘Today’s lesson will be a bit different. You’ll notice an array of resources at your combat leaders’ feet. In a moment you will have the chance to grab what you can and be taken outside to the forest.’
I quickly scan the floor. Knives, scissors, bundles of rope, water canisters, a camouflage blanket embedded with leaves and sticks, an axe, a looking glass – the list goes on.
‘Your goal today is to hide and stay hidden. You’ll be given a twenty-minute head start. Your combat leaders will then comb through the forest to find you. If they do, you will be marked as dead and ultimately will have failed the test. The test is over when you hear the sound of a horn.
‘If you have remained hidden after the horn blows, you have passed. You will also fail the test if you use your element to help you hide. This test is about thinking on your feet in a high pressure, time-constrained situation.’
I feel Sebastian’s eyes boring into the side of my face. Unable to help myself, I turn to look over at him. There’s a small lift to the corner of his mouth that seems to say, I can’t wait to watch you fail.
My teeth grind together as determination ignites through me like a flame. I look back to the contents on the floor and start to make plans with what’s available.
Nicks calls for us to choose our resources, and everyone surges forward in a collision of brutal shoves, elbows and curses, as each student dives for the array of treasure at our combat leaders’ feet.
I get pushed to the back quickly, Moira shoving me hard to get in front, making me curse.
I press forward, only for someone else to grab the back of my shirt and haul me to the floor.
My ass hits the hard ground with a thud.
A low growl slips out of me as I leap to my feet, feeling royally pissed off.
By the time I make it to the front, everyone has taken their loot.
Only one other student, Cillian, is left, grabbing a thick pile of rope and looping it over his shoulder.
A knife is fisted in his hand already. No one fucked with him.
No one probably could, he’s the largest of our group.
He strides back to the line-up of students, shooting me a wink as he rejoins the pack.
I stand and stare. All they left me with is a water canteen and one coil of rope. Seriously? Fucking assholes!
I hear a few chuckles behind me, followed by a catcall as I bend over and pick them both up. Following Cillian, I loop the rope over my shoulder and across my torso, so I have a free hand.
‘Hope you can run fast, Nocthare.’ Marcus Long chuckles behind me. ‘That water won’t do much to help you hide.’
I spin on my heel. ‘I hope you can run fast, Marcus. Because I was just picturing tying you to a tree with my rope and waterboarding you with this.’ I hold up the canteen.
His lips tighten. A dark laugh hits my back. I look over my shoulder to find Sebastian’s eyes dancing with what looks like mirth. Zain would find the thought of torture amusing, I suppose.
I ignore the rest of the group and walk back to my place at the end of the line. Nicks instructs our combat leaders to escort us to the forest where the hunt will begin.
By the time we reach the edge of the forest, a handful of students have decided to work together. I overhear someone’s plans to cover their arms and face in dirt and leaves to help them blend into the foliage and file it away. That’s not a bad idea.
Moira has joined one of the two groups that have formed. Their heads have been glued together the entire walk out here and I haven’t missed the ways her sharp eyes have flicked my way once or twice.
‘What’s your plan, Nocthare?’ Sebastian suddenly comes up beside me. His eyes dip to my rope and water.
‘As if I’d tell you. You’re supposed to find me, remember?’
‘Oh, I remember. I was just hoping you’d beg me to go easy on you.’
I laugh humourlessly. God, he’s so arrogant. ‘I wouldn’t waste my breath, Zain. You wouldn’t go easy on me, begging or not.’
‘You’d be surprised. I’m quite partial to a woman on her knees for me,’ he mutters darkly.
‘You’re disgusting,’ I hiss, quickening my pace to get away from him. Even though a coil of heat rolls around in the pit of my stomach after hearing him say that. Stars. What is wrong with me?
He’s just trying to psych me out. He wants me to fail so he can have another reason to send me home. He wants to prove that I don’t belong here. That I’m not worthy.
That can’t happen; it won’t! I refuse to lose this time.
Nicks has us all line up, with our combat leaders stood several feet behind us. At the sound of a sharp whistle, we all take off, running in different directions.
My heart immediately starts to pound in my chest. Nerves and anticipation fuel my body as I pump my legs and arms rhythmically, pushing myself through the thicket of trees.
The roaring ocean is somewhere to my left, beyond the forest. The mountain side is to my right.
I spot Cillian and Aiden running in that direction, no doubt hoping they can find a cave somewhere up the mountain where they can hide.
The little plan I’ve formulated is either going to bode well in my favour, or it’ll backfire, and I’ll be found within the first few minutes. From what I’ve seen, everyone is planning to run as deep as they can into the forest. I’m hoping the combat leaders will assume that tactic as well.
Which is why I plan to stay as close as possible to the edge of the trees, but just deep enough that they won’t see me as I climb and they wait for the twenty minutes to pass. The worst enemy is often the one hiding in plain sight.
I leap over tree trunks, trying to remain light on my feet so as not to leave footprints.
I spot someone in the distance, running fast, though I can’t make out who it is, only that they have light brown hair.
I don’t want anyone to see me turn back, or know where I’m headed, so I keep up the facade of running deeper for a while longer.
Eventually, I spin on my heel, once I can’t see anyone in the distance, and start to make a wide loop. Running back toward the academy. I’ve been counting the time in my head as well as I can, and I think I’ve lost about four minutes, maybe five.
The rope is heavy as I run, as is the water canteen that sloshes around with every bound I take.
It’s too loud, I realise, as I make my way closer and closer to where Nicks and the combat leaders are waiting.
My hair whips across my face, and it’s a stark reminder of how light it is compared to the lush greens and browns of the forest. If I’m going to hide, I need to conceal my hair.
My eyes dart around the forest floor as I run, trying to make a plan, until I glance back down to the water canister.
I stop running. My heart is hammering in my chest like an anvil on stone.
The dirt. I scan my surroundings once more, and step over to a thick bush with wildflowers and crouch down on my knees.
I pat the hard ground with my hands, hoping this won’t be a noticeable spot if someone happened to walk past, and unscrew the canteen.
Slowly, I start to tip water over the ground and grab a stick that’s discarded behind me to dig the soil up as it softens.
I add enough water to make a paste, then scoop up the sloppy dirt and start to slather it over my braided hair.
I scrunch my nose against the ripe earthy scent.
I apply it quickly, knowing I’m running out of time.
I chuck the stick as far as I can, before scooping a pile of leaves and grass to cover the hole I made in the ground. Then I tip some more water over my hands to wash off the mud, making sure to do it over the bush. I can’t leave puddles of water around when it hasn’t rained today.
My feet are moving again. I have around ten minutes. I run for another two, until I hear the distant sound of laughter. The combat leaders!
I decide this is as close to them as I can get and pick the tallest tree with as many branches as possible.
Unravelling the rope, I tie the end through the handle of the water canteen.
There’s only a small amount inside of it, but that’s all I need.
Just a little bit of weight to throw and weigh down the rope.
Once it’s secured, I crane my neck, looking for the right branch to toss it over.
They’re all well out of reach. Perfect. I’m hoping no one will think I’ve magically grown ten feet and swung myself up there.
There’s a decently thick branch that I finally decide on. I pick the canteen up and throw it skyward. I hold my breath as it travels through the air, only for it to spiral back down and crash loudly to the forest floor.
I freeze, pulse roaring in my ears as I look around. When no one comes running, I pick it up again. I’m running out of time. Again I throw and again it misses, but this time I catch it to muffle the noise.
‘Come on!’ I hiss.
It takes me three more throws, my shoulder straining, but on the third throw, the canteen hooks over the other side of the branch and comes barrelling toward the ground, pulling the rope over with it.
I quickly take hold of the rope on my side, so it doesn’t all unravel, then get to work making a knot at the bottom.
I tug, hard, watching the branch for any cracks or falling debris.
Hoping it’s not rotten on the inside and can hold my weight.
Once I’m mildly satisfied that I won’t plummet to my death, I start to haul myself up, climbing the rope.
Again, I feel thankful for the training Lukas put me through, because if I didn’t keep up with using his wooden staves, the upper body muscles I gained through training with him would have failed me insurmountably.
By the time I reach the branch and manage to swing my leg over to haul myself up into a sitting position my hands are rubbed raw, rope burn stinging my flesh, and my arms are screaming in protest. But I’m still too low.
Anyone could see me up here. I pull the rope off the ground, my aching hands tugging over and over until the knot that was on the ground is in my hands.
I weave it over my torso, then stand on shaky legs and begin to climb the branches I can now reach.
Finally, I find myself high enough in the tree for the ground to look nauseatingly far away and decide to stop. My blood hums beneath my skin. Not just from the sheer height that I’m standing at, but also, because I start to hear muffled voices in the distance below.
They’re coming. Time’s up.