Chapter 6
Chapter Six
I’ll have to hop from stone to stone, trying to cross the pond of corrosive goo. This is my first true test in this mission.
I scramble down from Mace’s back. I can’t hesitate and cost us more time. This mission is a chance for me. If I do well, I’ll get a good position at The Citadel afterwards.
This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. It feels like my entire life – the failures, the dusting myself off, the carrying forwards – has been leading to this moment. When I can show what I’m made of.
‘Let me go first,’ I say.
Mace looks unconvinced, to say the least. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ellie. You can still go back.’
‘To what?’ I say. ‘That’s not really an option. You don’t get it.’
Mace shrugs. ‘Then make me.’
But I doubt he can understand. With his high scores and the way he flies through every challenge thrown in his path, Mace Hardfield can’t possibly comprehend what it’s like to lose at everything. He simply can’t.
But it hurts that he doesn’t believe in me. He used to be one of my closest friends. Does he really think I can’t be more than a failure?
I can try, I tell myself. That, I can do.
I sprint for the few feet that separate me from the puddle, and leap. I land on the first skipping stone, throwing my arms out for balance.
My shoes really aren’t the ideal equipment for this, but I have to work with what I have, as always. I leap to the next stone, which is narrower, and I try hard to keep my balance on one foot. Ice skating has helped with that.
I jump quickly to the next stone, but its surface is uneven, and before I can tilt dangerously sideways, I take the next jump and some of that disgusting liquid splashes around, drilling a hole through the fine leather.
The back of my foot burns, but I can’t do anything about it, so I grit my teeth and make the last two leaps.
I skip around on one foot, trying to alleviate the pain, hissing through my teeth.
Mace is quickly at my side, probably having leapt through the puddle like a champ. ‘You’re hurt.’
Well, I am. Does he expect me to complain about it?
‘Can you heal yourself?’ he presses on.
‘No,’ I say.
Mace slams his hand against the wall. ‘Stella, provide water. And a lotion for the burns.’ He turns back to me. ‘I thought you were in the Healers’ Quarter.’
I shrug. ‘It beats being in Maintenance.’
‘Why Maintenance?’ There’s a glint in Mace’s eyes that I don’t like. That reminds me of how his mother dismissed me because my parents were in Maintenance.
‘I’ve been in seven different Quarters, so far.’
A panel in the wall slides back and a tiny, thin hose juts out. A drawer opens, with a small jar of lotion nestled on a folded white cloth. Mace kneels, as if to help me.
‘I’ve got this,’ I say quickly.
‘Why seven different Quarters?’ Mace says, straightening up.
I don’t answer. Instead, careful not to burn my fingers, I rub away the rest of the goo from my shoes.
When I take them off, to assess the damage to my skin, there’s a huge red patch on the back of my foot, where the goo has penetrated the leather.
I use the soothing lotion and put my shoes back on quickly. I don’t want to cost us any more time.
‘Why seven Quarters?’ Mace insists.
‘Because my magic is useless,’ I reply. ‘And I’m not a Healer – just a Healing Technician. Which means that I’m of no help to you without a PH.’
Mace clears his throat. ‘There are small support points next to the more dangerous spots in the tunnels, like this one, where Stella can send us first-aid kits.’
He sounds almost apologetic.
A tiny drain opens in the floor, and I wonder why Maintenance didn’t drain that entire, vile puddle. Maybe it’s a trap for intruders.
No point in wondering, anyway. Just moving forward. My skin stings with every move I make, but I’m still heading towards the glowing opening. Mace follows silently behind me.
I step out in the cold air and a harsh wind whips me in the face. Rain clouds are gathering above our heads. Thunder booms. A storm is brewing.
The exit to the tunnel – a rock-like door, closes behind us with a thud, and we find ourselves at the bottom of a stony slope. A copse of scrawny woods is in front of us.
‘The Disputed Lands,’ Mace mutters, and slams his hand against the wall.
Stella’s silhouette lights up the fake rock of the door. ‘Congratulations, Apprentices. The two of you are the fourth group to find their way out.’
Fourth group? There must be at least thirty teams out there, and some of them must have gotten separated, like us. That means we must be pretty fast, after all.
I can do this, I tell myself. Mace hasn’t mentioned sending me back in the last fifteen minutes – I count that as a win for now.
‘Orders, Stella?’ Mace asks.
‘Your next mission is to find the rest of your team, and then locate a Support Checkpoint,’ she says in an even voice. ‘You’ll find mission-appropriate clothing there, and some essential items from your rooms.’
‘Understood,’ says Mace.
‘Can you give us some pointers as to where the rest of the team is?’ I ask.
Stella laughs. ‘No, Ellie. I can’t do that. Use the tools at your disposal.’
‘Thanks,’ I mutter. It was worth a try.
Stella does a small, awkward wave before she disappears completely.
Mace peers into the woods, red-eyed and grumpy, but that isn’t new. The sky is lighting up in pale shades of purple, which tells me dawn is near.
I’m gearing up for a hike. ‘Well, lead the way, great and powerful Captain.’
That doesn’t even earn me a smile. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere,’ he says.
Mace takes his ART out of his pocket and glares down at it as if he can intimidate it to give up its secrets. Is he always this grumpy, or is this an Ellie-induced effect?
‘A few functions have been reactivated,’ he says. ‘There’s a mapping function that shows the groups of people and wild beasts who move within the Disputed Lands. It would be dangerous to send us out there otherwise. We might run into the enemy. Are you sure you don’t want to?—’
‘No, I don’t want to go back,’ I say. ‘This is so fun. It’s all a learning experience! We see the best side of each other’s personalities,’ I say in a fake-bubbly voice, throwing my arms up in the air. ‘In the worst possible conditions!’
He almost smiles. ‘How have you got more drunk than you were at the party last night?’
‘Mace, my friend, I’m cold, hungry and I need a cup of hot coffee. So, get started on that pathfinding magic of yours. I can tell by how smug you are that you have a pretty good idea how we can find the others. And get me a freaking blanket. We’ll be BFFs after that.’
Mace just shakes his head and taps something into his ART. ‘Here,’ he says. ‘I think we should follow that trail.’
I look back. The silhouette of The Citadel rises behind us: square, tall buildings, huddled atop a cliff. I’m not sure if it’s something generated by Stella, or if it’s the golden sunlight, but the city glows, true to its name: The Golden Citadel.
I stare and stare at the breathtaking view, unable to believe that we’ve already come so far.
Looking at The Citadel from the outside for the first time in my life, it feels like I’m standing on the threshold of a new beginning.
This time, it will be different, I tell myself. I’ll prove to everyone that I’m not a constant failure.
What feels like hours and hours later – but is actually only half an hour or so because the sky has barely begun to light up properly – Mace signals for me to leave the trail and hide behind some bushes.
Splendid.
It’s a wonder that I haven’t sprained my ankle yet.
He crouches and waves at me to hurry, then pins his gaze on the screen of his ART. He’s watching little dots moving across a map. He points towards three tiny points in a cluster. ‘This should be them,’ he says.
I zoom out on the map, noticing the five-dot clusters, a few two-dot clusters, and more three-dots scattered across the terrain. ‘On a scale from one to ten, how sure are we that those three dots are our team, and not Apprentices from another team?’
‘Taking into consideration that this is one of the four three-dot groups? I’d say two point five,’ Mace says.
I tilt the screen of his ART towards me, and our fingers brush.
A spark of electricity travels into my spine and I shift, pretending it’s the crouching position that’s uncomfortable.
It’s almost disturbing that he has this effect on me.
He’s so self-assured and commanding and, to be frank, looks delicious enough to eat, even with the frowns.
Get your head straight, I try to remind myself. Mace doesn’t even want you on this mission.
‘It wouldn’t make sense, though, for Stella and Command to break us so far apart,’ he says.
I snort. ‘Come on, Mace. There has to be a better way to confirm it’s them. What happens if we jump into the way of one of the other teams?’
Mace rubs the stubble on his cheeks. I hope he understands what I’m not saying – which is that I’m not trained to fight. ‘They’d probably try to capture us. Stella will have to take us out of the mission for three days, if we’re captured. Or they’ll try to wound us severely.’
That doesn’t sound great. ‘How can we access Stella in the Disputed Lands?’
‘We can’t,’ he says. ‘There are no connection points in the Disputed Lands that enable us to talk to her. There are sensors everywhere, and supply points, but that’s it.
We use the ARTs to contact Stella when we need her, but the communication functions have been disabled for the mission, as I’ve said. ’
I raise my eyebrows so high that I think they might hit my hairline. ‘You mean to tell me that Stella generates a map as detailed and accurate as that without connection points in the fields?’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘We’re told that there are sensors that feed back information to Stella in the Disputed Lands, but even those can be disabled. Ergo, the only way to contact Stella is through the ARTs.’