To Best the Boys(43)

Deep breath.

Here we go.

“You good?” Seleni whispers.

“No. You?”

“Nope.”

“All right then. Let’s do it.”

We do our best to mimic the men as we trek the tall hill toward the Labyrinth above, which no one but contestants has ever seen inside of. Mr. Holm’s setup doesn’t allow for spectators. Just the use of his lawns, food, and entertainment as the partiers wait for intermittent updates from either the announcer or the boys who reappear from the maze once they’ve been disqualified.

The boys are always met with a combination of disappointment over the fact they lost and excitement over whatever minimal details they’re allowed to give. Like who’s ahead, who’s behind, and who’s likely to end up dead.

Any more sharing of what the Labyrinth is like and those boys will supposedly end up in the sudden employ of King Francis’s army.

The voice of the announcer, whom some believe to be Holm himself, carries across the estate. “Now that you’ve been briefed regarding your participation, we hope you’ll settle in to relish the rest of your stay with us. Please enjoy the food, drink, bonfires, and facilities, and please refrain from losing your children, lest the werehounds find them for you.”

“Bobbles! Bobbles for ya!” a woman yells just as we reach the halfway point on the hill. It’s old Mrs. Mench, who’s apparently been assigned the job of giving out celebration necklaces for the event.

I tip my head, and we stop right in front of her. I smile and hold out my hand, and the neighbor woman looks me up and down, then narrows a brow at first mine, then Seleni’s clothing. I brace and wait for her to lose her calm when she recognizes me—but she just nods and hands us each a necklace.

“Thank you,” I say, practicing a deep tone.

“You’re quite welcome, young men. Go find some pretty chums to give them to. Now move along.”

We slip around her and keep walking, and I can feel Seleni’s momentary relief.

“Now for the real test.” She lifts her gaze toward where Beryll and the other boys are waiting for the announcer’s droning to end.

“Be sure to check the handwritten schedule posted at each terrace entrance for all times and events—including ballooning, theater, air aerobics, bread pudding toss, and petting the legendary basilisk. But be careful—they rather enjoy the taste of port flesh. The older the chewier.”

The crowd’s laugh ripples out in waves as we slip through the masses of people—most of whom let us through with comments of “Good luck, boys,” and “It’s as much about character as it is brains.”

When we arrive at the hilltop, we make our way along the thirty-feet-tall hedges to the Labyrinth’s single, gated entrance, which is said to be the only way in or out of the place. In front of it are fifty or so boys, all of whom look to be near the same age as us and just as nervous as the crowd.

“There.” I point to Beryll, who’s standing with Lawrence behind Sam and Will.

“I told him to find and warn them about Germaine.”

As we press toward the four, a few faces turn our way, as if curious what level of competition we’ll be. The rest pass right over the visual assessment I’m used to and simply nod as if accepting us as one of them—then go back to throwing glances at the nearby group of girls cheering for them. The boys casually nudge each other and grin.

“Has anyone seen Miss Lake? Is she around?” Beryll shouts over their heads.

“Over here,” Seleni says, then claps a hand across her mouth and shoots me a look of panic. She pulls her hat lower over her eyes as he turns, and adds in a low voice, “Sorry, thought you were asking about someone else.”

He marches over anyway, and I can feel Seleni’s blood pounding through her arm pressed against mine—but then Beryll smiles. “No worries. You going in there?” He juts his chin at the Labyrinth gate.

She nods. “You looking for your girl?”

I discreetly kick her with my boot.

“I am. Well, best of luck to you.” Beryll sticks his hand out.

I thrust mine to meet it and give it a firm shake, and the next second he’s scanning the crowd again. “If you chaps will excuse me . . .” He tilts his hat and moves off, and I breathe out relief as Seleni slumps against my shoulder.

“I’m going to get us caught, aren’t I?” she whispers.

“You’re going to get you caught. You blow it, and you’re on your own. Same as me.”

She starts to reply, but a sudden flare goes up and a firework explodes with a bang over the party. More cheers are followed by more fireworks. One looks like a basilisk shooting across the sky, his wide mouth and scales a myriad of colors and his long tail waving. Another resembles a school of fish swimming through a reef, like those we have off the coastline. The oohs and aahs grow with each explosion, until the crackers finish in a hail of sparkles so bright, it almost seems like daylight where Seleni and I are standing.

“Ladies and Gents, now welcome yourselves to the highlight of this equinox festivity—the fifty-fifth annual scholarship for a full-ride education to Stemwick University!”

The crowd roars and Seleni and I roar with it, because that truly is something to roar about.

“Contestants, please give us your attention for a few moments while we go over the specific rules with you. As always, the event will take place over a number of hours. Within that time, only contestants will be allowed inside the Labyrinth, the castle, and the lair. If you are found trespassing, you will be possibly torn apart by our resident beasts and definitely handed over to the authorities. In which case, your entire belongings—including food, clothes, and grandmothers—that are left on these grounds shall be confiscated. Grandmothers will be dealt with according to their baking skills, assuming they have any.”