Page 62 of Jinxed

Nina stops outside a black door, marked with a stylized BB. My fingers fidget against Jinx’s body as I realize that the final Baku Battle is about to begin.

‘I hopeyou enjoyed your tour of Moncha HQ! I look forward to welcoming one of you back here for the summer internship,’ Nina says with a wink. ‘Good luck – and may the best baku win.’

The door opens and Mr Baird beckons us through. We’re led into a room where the other teammates are waiting. I hang back as the captains join their teams, then head towards a paper sign that has my name on it. All theother teams have their names designed up – Gemma’s are in neon lights, while Tobias’s are in a series of neat gold sans serif. Dorian’s are in black and white 1920s Hollywood-style font, and Elektra’s team are in an elaborate cursive, whilst Pearce’s are the most outrageous, in a font that looks as if its styled out of lightning bolts.

‘Competing bakus in the centre.’

The other captains knowthe drill, but I know nothing – I just wait and watch. There’s a stand in the centre of the room and one by one, the fighters – Tobias, Pearce, Dorian, Terence (from Team Elektra) and Kayla (from Team Gemma) – strap their bakus down on the table.

When I step forward, I place Jinx down gently and tie up the straps. Mr Baird stares at Jinx with laser-like intensity as he removes the black markfrom his paw.

Jinx springs to life and he tenses immediately. He’s not able to move because of the straps – although I can see he desperately wants to.

>>What happened? Where am I?

We’re inside Moncha HQ, and you’re in the baku circle, ready to enter the arena for the final Baku Battle. Don’t you remember? They made us put black marks on you when we entered the building.

>>No. Let’s get out of here.

Jinx, it’s okay. We have to do this one final Baku Battle and then we never have to do this again. If you don’t want to fight, I won’t make you.

‘Miss Chu?’ says Mr Baird, one eyebrow raised. ‘Back to your station, please.’

I take a step back to my paper sign.

>>Don’t leave me here, says Jinx.

Just this battle.

>>And then we can go?

I promise.

It’s the first time I’ve heard himpanic. Maybe even afraid. I don’t understand, and it’s making me even more nervous than I was before.

‘Fighters, this way,’ says Mr Baird.

There are choruses of ‘Good luck’ directed at the fighters by the other teams, but no one to cheer me on. I grit my teeth, determined to make quick work of this – so that I can get back to Jinx and find out what’s wrong. We’re led into another room filledwith glass cylinders: the elevators that will lift us up into the arena. My cylinder is sandwiched in between Dorian and Tobias – an uncomfortable place to be.

‘All right, battlers. There are five hundred points up for grabs here – meaning a win here for any of you would put you in with a chance at the grand prize: the summer internship right here at Moncha HQ, in a department of your choosing.The last baku standing – or any bakus on the field after thirty minutes – will be declared the winner, with other teams given the opportunity to repair their bakus before tomorrow morning. But if you pull your baku before thirty minutes are up, then you will not be eligible for points. Does everyone understand?’

We nod.

‘As Ms Fiore said: May the best baku win.’ For a moment, Mr Baird soundssad, losing his normal cool, and he presses his fingers against his eyebrows. I take a step forward out of the cylinder, but the glass slams shut around me and Mr Baird leaves the room.

Now, the chat starts.

Dorian snaps his fingers at me. Reluctantly, I turn my head in his direction. His thick black hair is gelled into place so that it creates a perfect crest of a wave on his forehead. ‘Goodluck, newbie. You’re going to need it.’

My throat is so dry, I don’t respond. Instead, I turn to the other side, where a few feet away is Tobias. His fingers are balled into tight fists at his side. He must sense me looking, as he turns his head my way, his eyes dark. He says nothing.

But I don’t have time to think about it. The elevator shakes, and I’m lifted up into the arena. I can barelyhear myself think over the roar of the crowd – all of the students from Profectus, and lots of Moncha employees too. I blink several times, trying to take in the sheer size of this arena, which must be double that of the one at Profectus. Huge spotlights shine down on us, so bright they’re almost blinding. I lift my hand to shield my eyes until they can adjust.

To my left is Dorian and his wolf.

To my right is Tobias and his eagle.

But in front of me, there’s nothing. Jinx isn’t there.

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