Fly snorts. “Don’t count on it.”
“But aren’t there ways to solve mazes?” I persist. “Even for those of us without shadow magic?”
“Yes,” Clare says, slamming her book down in front of me. “There are!”
Clare spends the next hour going over the different techniques. She’d probably spend longer still, but Fly cuts her off and insists we all go get some sleep.
“Techniques or not,” he says, “we won’t be able to solve any maze if we’re so tired we can’t sleep tonight.”
“I don’t know,” I mull. “I think we should keep researching.”
“Uh uh,” he says, “trust me on this.”
He drags me to my feet and we hug Clare good night. Then we make our way back to our tower. Despite the late hour, there are lights on all over the campus. I guess we weren’t the only ones up studying tonight.
Outside our doors, Fly rests his hand on my shoulder.
“Okay?” he asks me.
“A little nervous,” I say. “You?”
“Same.” He kisses my forehead. “Try to get some sleep, Cupcake.”
Once I’m in my room alone, I realize he never promised me tomorrow would go okay. Because he can’t. He doesn’t know. And there’s a high probability it won’t.
Without my friends close by, I feel suddenly more nervous, less sure of myself, less confident in all the plans we made.
I climb into the old pair of pajamas Clare has gifted me, flick off the light switch and snuggle into my bed.
The mattress doesn’t feel nearly as comfortable as it usually does. It’s scratchy, lumpy and hard. One night in a luxurious shadow weaver bed and I’m spoiled. But I don’t think that’s truly the problem. My mind buzzes with worries and I toss and turn unable to find sleep no matter how desperately I try.
I start to panic as the tower bell chimes two. Fly’s right, without sleep I’ll be even more hopeless at this trial – and while I’m not expecting to pick up any points, while I don’t think I have any chance of making it into one of the other quarters, I want to make it out of the trialalive.
I flop over onto my back and stare up at the dark thatched roof, listening to the sounds of the creatures scurrying around inside. My heart beats loudly and my chest feels tight with worry. Speaking with Fly or Clare would make me feel better. It would probably calm me down. Lying here alone with only my spiraling thoughts for company isn’t helping. But I can’t wakethem up in the middle of the night. They need their sleep as much as I do. It wouldn’t be fair.
I close my eyes.
There is one person.
One person I could talk to. One person who is going to ace the trial, sleep or no sleep. One person who I shouldn’t want to go and talk to – but I do.
I flip over onto my side, tucking my hands under my cheek.
I shouldn’t be relying on other people for support or comfort. I shouldn’t be trusting people.
Amelia was too trusting – so was I back then. I bet that was the true reason for her death.
I think of her now. Exactly my age. She seemed so old back then. Now I realize she wasn’t. I am twenty-one and yet I feel like such a kid half the time. There is still so much to do, so much to learn. I don’t want my story to end yet. I want to make it through this trial.
I fling back the thin blanket, slide on my boots, tug my coat over my pajamas and walk out of my room, locking the door behind me.
I creep down the staircase as quietly as I can, not wanting to wake anyone, also really not wanting anyone catching me on my way to where I’m going.
There is already so much gossip swirling around about me and to be caught creeping towards the Princes’ tower in the middle of the night would churn that gossip up into a whirlwind.
The lights that were burning earlier are all extinguished now and the only other being I meet is an owl, swooping low over the towers on his way out towards the woods.
At the Princes’ tower I hesitate. I’m not sure thumping on the door is going to wake them. This was probably a wasted night-time stroll. I try the door-handle anyway and to my surprise it clicks open.