To Best the Boys(44)
The assembly erupts into laughter again, but this time there’s an uncertain edge to it.
“Now . . . if you are not one of the contestants, we ask you to please step back at this time.”
I grab Seleni’s elbow sleeve to secure us both in place as the boys around us jostle closer, and the spectators scoot back to give a wider berth.
“Young university hopefuls, Mr. Holm would like to congratulate you on your bravery to enter his contest. Please be aware, once again, that you do so at your own risk and that Holm and the Holm estate bear no responsibility for what happens once you’re inside the Labyrinth. How you choose to play will determine how you survive and in what shape you emerge upon finishing. Mr. Holm strongly encourages you to back out now if you are weak of heart, stomach, or spine.”
I feel Seleni look at me. I clench my jaw and keep my eyes straight ahead on the gate. Just get through the gate and into the maze, Rhen. Once in, you can figure out the rest.
“The rules are as follows:
? “One: The only accessories allowed inside the Labyrinth are the clothes you are wearing. If you’re not wearing clothes, please simply be warned that all, er, loose objects may be at greater risk of injury. Also, should you encounter any moving devices while inside, you’d be wise to keep all appendages as close as possible.
? “Two: The test is broken into multiple parts, and it is up to you how much time you spend on each one. While they pertain to different sections of the Stemwick educational standard, including maths, technology, sciences, and engineering, they are also a fairly reliable judge of character. Again, it is your choice how you play. However, fall behind in any one of them and you’ll wish you hadn’t.
? “Three: You are highly encouraged to think outside the normal, and in fact will not pass otherwise.
? “Four: Upon entering the first section of the contest, you will have precisely eighteen hours to complete it or be eliminated.
? “Five: Interference with the contest itself or injury to other players will be cause for immediate dismissal, prison, and/or public harpooning, depending on the level of infraction.
“Consider yourselves fairly warned. And now”—the voice gets louder and deeper all at the same time—“are you prepared to compete for entrance to the top university in our fair King Francis’s kingdom? Then step forward now or forever hold your peace.” There’s a metallic creaking sound of gates shifting, and a cheer goes up. The boys press in, even as their teary-eyed mums try to catch and hug them.
“Only players at this time, please,” the announcer repeats. “Only players at this time. All else move back.”
“I’m a player.” I say it softly. Quietly. Like a ghost leaf rustling in the air. Firming my resolve.
I stand next to Seleni amid a host of bodies crowding in as they become keyed up with excitement to the point the anticipation is dripping in sweat off their skin. She utters a grunt of disgust, and I give a shrug that says, “Guess we better get used to it,” before I lift up to bounce on the balls of my feet like the rest of them are doing.
Until something catches my eye, and I peer over to see Lute also bouncing. I frown. What the? He’s standing on the other side of Will and Sam in the midst of the fray just like Seleni and me. What’s he doing in here? Why isn’t he on the sidelines with his mum and Ben?
I swerve to Seleni and point to him. She looks surprised, then whispers, “Maybe it’s the fishing restrictions. I wonder if he needs it.”
I swallow. Of course he does. He said the fishing couldn’t support his family anymore. I bounce and holler louder even as the thought that he’s here for such a reason rubs against the grain of my gut. He’s only ever wanted to be a fisherman. Now, because of a law, he’s being forced down a different path.
“You boys ready to be slaughtered?” Germaine shouts from in front of Lute. Sneers are plastered securely on his and Rubin’s mouths as they face the group.
I peer at Lute again. He doesn’t know about Germaine’s plans. I grab the side of Seleni’s tunic and tug her his direction. We have to at least get close enough so I can warn him.
“Contestants, you may now enter,” the announcer says.
The gates stop creaking. Then, with a clang, they swing inward.
The bodies around me jolt into movement—shoving and jostling and clawing their shoes into the dirt to give them any slight advantage. I grip Seleni’s tunic and shove us into position behind Beryll, Sam, Will, and Lute.
Seleni looks at me, and I nod.
The boys in front of us yell and lunge forward.
We jump in.
15
The moment we step through the gates, the boys behind us shove and press us into the bodies ahead, until male hips and elbows and hands are plastered against every minute curve of my frame. I might cringe if I could breathe, but I’m too busy trying to stay upright to think of anything more than finding air and avoiding being trampled in the sweaty stampede.
A hand grabs tight to mine, and from the corner of my eye, I see that Seleni looks like she’s drowning. I pull her over and push her ahead, and the next second the boys in front have broken free, and we erupt into a square garden barely wide enough to hold three carriages.
It’s a box. Made of grass at our feet and hedges reaching almost as high as the castle, with only the sky above and a few of those hanging white bulbs for light. And no exit other than the one we just came through.