To Best the Boys(49)

“Okay . . . but what do rats do?” I scan the room looking for anything familiar. “They go back to what they know.”

“And what is that exactly?”

But even as he says it, I note he’s spent the past two minutes proving my point. He’s been staring at the painting’s words and retracing them with his slender fingers in dust on the ground. I look closer. He appears to be assigning numbers to them.

I lift a brow. He’s seeing if the words are a numerical code.

I peer at Lute again, but he’s refocused on Vincent, who a moment later stands, swipes his blond hair back in place, and says, “Germaine, try these.” He cites a variety of combinations, which Germaine starts entering in. He inputs one, then another, then another, but there’s no reaction other than a one-time replaying of the message from Kellen that we already heard.

I shake my head. The numbers and letters are starting to spin and mix in my head, but there’s something wrong with them.

I shut my eyes and try to clear my mind—to concentrate on the question that, just like the one in the maze, Holm must’ve put here for a reason. Why are you here?

Why are any of us here—?

A scream rips through the room and dissipates as fast as it came. It’s followed by the sound of metal grinding against stone.

I spin around as the others do the same. “What just bloody happened?” Vincent barks.

Sam points at the floor. “He . . . fell.”

“Who?”

“The kid.”

I look at who is here. There were ten of us; now there’re only nine. I count off—Germaine, Rubin, Vincent, Sam, Will, Lute, Seleni, Beryll, and me. “Tippin?”

“He was standin’ right here.” Sam is delicately pressing on the stones in the corner where Tippin had apparently been. His face is white as a ghost. “It was lookin’ like he’d figured something out and pressed a spot on that wall. Except the bloody floor slid open and swallowed him into a pitch-black shaft.”

“Okay, new plan—nobody touch anything without telling the rest of us,” Lute says.

“Agreed,” Germaine says. “I don’t want to die because one of you makes a stupid mistake. Now let’s just all walk through this entire room methodically.”

We do. And then we do it again. And again. The same walls, same cracks, same levers and corners, minus the one Tippin fell through, and that same painting on the wall that seems to indicate the clue is somehow tied to them all, but we have no idea how.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Rubin swears. “If I lose this test because I’m paired with a bunch of idiots . . .” He puffs back his wide shoulders and stares directly at Seleni and Will.

“What about the items on the table?” Will says to the rest of us. He’s gone back to them at least five times now, rearranging them to match the picture, stacking them, then pulling them all off before replacing them in their exact spots. “In the painting they’re this way. But maybe if we try mirroring them—” He arranges the coin, book, and apple as he talks, but nothing happens other than Beryll hops up to join him, and Rubin scowls before strolling over too.

“Maybe we have to answer the question,” Seleni offers.

“Excuse me?” Germaine growls.

“He said maybe we have to answer the question,” Lute says in clear warning for Germaine to watch his tone.

Beryll glances up. “What question?”

“The one in the painting.” Seleni points. “Why are you here? Maybe it’s an audible cipher and we have to answer the question in order to release the lock.”

“What—like we all take turns answering why we’re here? That’s ridiculous.” Germaine scoffs. “We’re here because none of you ninnies can get us out of here, nothing more. Now if you’re not going to help, at least let the adults work.”

“I’ll start.”

All eyes turn to Beryll, who shrugs. “There’s nothing to lose, right?” He rubs the back of his brown hair and squints down at the dusty floor. “I’m here because my father wants me to be. And to hopefully have the type of future I want.”

He’s met with nods of agreement from a few of the boys.

In a deep voice Seleni goes next, even as her fingers shake. “I came because I wanted to see what the Labyrinth contest is like.”

“Me too.” I refuse to look at Lute as I get my turn out of the way. “And I’m here because I want a higher education.”

“Well, I think most of you know why I’m here,” Germaine exclaims. “To win.”

Everyone chuckles, because even if he’s an oaf, at least he’s honest.

“Obviously we’re here for the fame and love connections,” Sam says for both him and Will. And everyone laughs again because at least they’re honest too.

“I’m here because of the restrictions they’re putting on the fishing industry,” Lute says quietly. “My brother—he has certain needs. And with my pops gone, it’s my responsibility to care for him and our mum.” He looks at the skin on his knuckles. “I don’t have any imaginings I’ll win this thing, but I have to at least find a way to earn a better life for them, you know?”

The room falls quiet. Even Germaine and Rubin have stopped their chortling, and when I glance from Lute to Vincent, the latter is glaring at him with what looks like annoyance. And Beryll . . . Beryll’s expression is annoyed too, but in a different way. I swear he looks like he might cry.