Page 22 of Storm of Shadows
The twin with the whistle steps forward again. “You heard Madame, get to it!”
And now I understand why the shadow weavers were so determined to beat the crap out of everyone else on the first night. If we’re all barely able to stand, it gives them an advantage when it comes to our time at the academy. Not that they need it. They have their powers – several of the shadow weavers racing off across the field at speeds that are not human.
“Come on,” Fly says, setting off at a jog. “The sooner we get this started, the sooner it’ll be over.”
“Yeah, but maybe we’re better off–”
The blast of a whistle cuts through my next words.
“Get your butts moving!” one of the twins roars. I glance towards the retreating flanks of the shadow weavers and decide then and there the ogre twins are way more terrifying.
I chase after Fly, but despite his early declaration that he was trash at all physical activity, he proves to be a lot better at it than me.
I manage to keep up with him during the sprint across the field, but as soon as we reach the first obstacle – crawling on our bellies under a tightly pinned net – he leaves me for dust. In fact, the shadow weavers are nowhere to be seen, and those from Iron Quarter are soon out of sight too. Leaving us weaklings from Slate and Granite Quarters to struggle through the course.
I crash through a moat of freezing cold water, swing over a ditch on a rope, scrabble through a tunnel and then meet my match. Monkey bars. At least, that’s what the other kids around me are calling them. I’ve never seen any before. A ladder slung across another ditch of mud. The kids in front of me grip the rungs with their hands and swing from one rung to the next,moving along the ladder until they reach the bank at the other side of the ditch.
I roll my shoulders. I can do this. I pulled myself up into that tree the night before last. I’m not a complete weakling.
And maybe I could if my ribs weren’t so damaged. I jump, grip the first rung, reach for the next with my right hand, and pain radiates through my side. I lose my grip and land straight in the mud below me. For a moment, I consider wading through the mud like I did the water and skipping the monkey bars all together, but then I spy a spike concealed in the mud, obviously placed there to stop any smart-asses from attempting that.
I climb up the bank and watch the next two kids make their way across. One succeeds, the other falls and I note the difference in their techniques.
Then it’s my time again. This time I’m ready for the pain, and gritting my teeth, my eyes smarting, I swing across that ladder, every movement sending more agony through my ribs. I scream out, but I keep going. Being skewered by one of those spikes would be much much worse.
The other side, I step off the path and heave straight into a bush.
“Eww,” two girls screech as they race past me. “That’s so pathetic. The course isn’t even that hard.”
“She must be seriously unfit,” the other girl replies.
“Isn’t she the one …”
I don’t hear any more, their voices lost in the undergrowth.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, spit twice onto the ground, wishing I had water to wash out my mouth. Then, wiping the tears and sweat from my eyes with my right hand, clutch my sore ribs with my left and keep on running.
I can’t show any weakness. The weak will be picked apart like prey in the academy and I want to make it through the nexttwelve months with the least harm possible. It’s the best chance I have of discovering the truth about my sister.
The best way to survive is to do the thing I’ve always done. Don’t stand out – for good or bad reasons. Become invisible. Disappear.
If they can’t see you, they can’t hurt you.
Problem is, whatever the hell that was outside the Great Hall yesterday seems to have drawn attention my way. Attention I don’t want and don’t need.
Attention, I can’t help but think, is going to bite my ass.
I keep running, although I’m much slower now, my aching ribs impeding every step, and reach the next obstacle. A cargo net reaching high into the sky. There are other students already climbing up this side and down the other.
I smile.
At least this is an obstacle I can do. Even if I know it’s much harder than it looks. You just need to know the right technique.
I find a clear spot on the net, and gripping one of the ropes that run vertically, use it to haul myself upwards as I use the horizontal ropes as stepping stones. It still hurts, but it’s more effective this way and soon I’m nearing the top of the net.
It’s here I find I was right. My cards have been marked already. There’s a girl straddling the top of the net, dressed in her gray tracksuit. I jerk when I peer up and find her scowling at me.
It’s the brunette from yesterday.
