Page 13 of The Ordeals
‘Er …’
‘Doesn’t have to be a smart answer. Just … anything.’
‘Cards, I suppose. I like Brag, Brig and Twist, Full Five—’
‘Haven’t heard of that last one. I— We used to play the first two.’
He clears his throat, his muscles moving beneath my hands, as though he’s turned to glance back at me. ‘Well, you have to get a fullroyal hand, plus two others in the same suit, and the person with the highest numbers has to drink.’
‘Not the lowest?’
‘The highest.’ He chuckles. ‘Either they drink, or they accept a dare. My friend at school had to run twice around the building starkers, singing the Crown’s pledge of allegiance …’
I choke on a laugh, picturing a stuffy school, and a bunch of boys daring each other, waving half-drunk bottles of toquay around. ‘Sounds fun.’
‘If a little indecent,’ he agrees.
‘Why did you stay in that bar for a drink with me? Were you just looking for someone to have fun with?’
He clears his throat. ‘No, not exactly. I—’
But he’s cut off by a scream. It seems to come from outside the passageway, beyond the cramped space we are navigating, and yet it rents the air around us, leaving a shiver of foreboding curling along my spine. We both pause, waiting for more. But all I can hear is our shared breaths in the dark.
‘Best continue,’ I say, trying to keep the tremor from my voice, even as my limbs weaken from the terror, the sheerterrorthat I may not get out of here.
Alden moves forward once more. We stop three more times as cries and screams echo through the quiet, leaving prickling fear in their wake. I wonder if it’s other hopefuls like us, dying in parlours and hidden passageways around Alabaster House, unable to escape the immobilant in time. Or if they are facing other challenges in the Crucible that we have not yet found, fresh horrors to test and trick us.
‘Ah, at last.’ Alden breathes as a door opens, soft light flooding the passageway.
I almost choke with relief. Taking a beat to calm my thoughts, Ishuffle forward slowly, ducking my head as I pass through the doorway into the soft light beyond. We step out into a courtyard and I instantly drop my hands from Alden’s back, severing the connection between us, and drink in the cool night air, pressing my palms into my chest as my heart thunders beneath them. But the night air isn’t clear and sweet; it smells … awful. I gag, pressing my hand over my mouth and nose, swivelling around to get my bearings.
We are no longer alone.
There must be ninety or so others, eyes wide or narrowing on us as we join them, all glittering and glowing in the scant light thrown out by a set of burning torches lining the space. Overhead, clouds drift past the full moon in the square of night I can glimpse and below, in front of us, is a huge courtyard mostly bathed in shadow, surrounded by walls on all sides, set out like a chessboard. I cringe back as a sudden plume of flame ignites in one of the squares near me, then disappears a few seconds later, sending my heart racing.
I glance left and right, eyeing the other hopefuls lined up along the wall, sizing up my rivals first, assessing any potential threats. But they’re all staring dead ahead. I peer into the darkness of the courtyard, wondering why none of them are moving, wondering why it smells like charred fat and burnt feathers—
Then I see them.
There are two bodies on the ground, a few feet apart.
They’re not moving.
Another sudden shot of flame ignites near one of the bodies, and I catch a glimpse of twisting vines, of limbs splayed at impossible angles. It’s a man and a woman, about the same age as me, and all I can see are the man’s broad shoulders, the back of his head and the woman’s eyes, wide as marbles, as though staring down death itself. The rest of their bodies are suffocated by coiling vines.
‘They tried crossing about ten minutes ago. We’re meant to crossthe courtyard to complete the Crucible,’ a young woman says on my left. I look over at her, finding someone my age, a little shorter than me with dark, curly hair fighting to escape a tortoiseshell clip at the nape of her neck. She blinks up at me, then at Alden. ‘No one has attempted to cross since.’
‘It’s not hard, hopefuls,’ a woman calls from the other side of the courtyard. My eyes snap to hers, a torch on the wall near her illuminating her features. It’s the woman who showed me into the parlour. She stands primly on the other side, clasping her hands before her, twinset and wool skirt unruffled. ‘Surely if you’re here, youwantto complete the Crucible? And remember, the first three to succeed in crossing the courtyard win the first favour of the Ordeals. You may pick your partner for the first one, and also the second – people you believe you will work well with to succeed in each Ordeal. If this is all too much, if you believe you are in the wrong place, you may exit now. There is a door to your left … otherwise, you must cross. Your choice. But when you cross the courtyard, it’s a point of no return. The Crucible is your gateway to a new life at Killmarth. But only if you’re brave enough to cross.’
The Ordeals? It’s the first time I’ve heard this expression. Does this mean … the Crucible is only thefirst stepof the Killmarth entrance exam?
‘What are the Ordeals?’ I ask the woman next to me.
A crease forms between her eyes. ‘The semester-long trials for hopefuls to become full scholars of Killmarth?’
‘Oh. Of course,’ I say, blinking quickly. A semester of this. A semester of trials and tests …Ordealsto even become a scholar of Killmarth. I’m beginning to wonder if this is a mistake. If this path to freedom I have painstakingly uncovered may in fact lead to my death.
But I want this. Desperately, I remind myself. I can’t be putoff, the unknown is just that, unknown at this point. What I do know, the fact I’ve acted on, is that passing through the gates of Killmarth will likely give me freedom. I cling to that, my hand fastening around the bracelet on my wrist as I calculate what the odds may be. Taking the exit to the left is not an option.
