Rebellion (Chronicles of Charanthe #1)

by Rachel Cotterill

  Chapter 30

  "Curses!" Eleanor cried, stopping abruptly in the middle of the stairs. "I forgot my stars. I'll catch you up."

  "Can't you get them later?" She'd been walking back from their projectiles lesson with Fred, since her own room-mates still weren't talking to her, and they were half way back to their rooms when she realised her mistake. And the class had already run late.

  "No, I'll go now, before someone else picks them up. They're not marked."

  "Well, see you at dinner," Fred said, slipping past her.

  She sprinted back down to the practice hall, and was about to push the door open when she heard Jorge's unmistakable voice protest from the room beyond: "But I am trying!"

  "Not hard enough." That sounded like Ivan. She wondered if Jorge's basic, soulless throwing technique had finally got him in trouble.

  "But..."

  "No buts. We need you to win this; after last year's fiasco we can't afford to lose any more influence."

  Eleanor froze, hand still resting on the doorknob. They could only be talking about the contest. She wasn't supposed to be hearing this, and common sense told her to make a silent exit, but curiosity held her by the door.

  "I know that, but that blasted girl's a cheat and–"

  Ivan cut him off. "Do you like being bested by a woman?"

  "No." Jorge's voice was suddenly quiet, ashamed; Ivan had known the right nerve to strike, and it hit Eleanor too like a kick to the stomach. Ivan was one of the few who'd never treated her like an imposter. Almost unable to believe what she was hearing, she bent and pressed her eye to the keyhole.

  "That's why you have to make up excuses about cheating," Ivan continued. It was definitely him. "Or her extra year of experience, or the idea that people are soft on her because she's a girl. None of that has anything to do with why you keep failing!"

  "I'll train more," Jorge promised. "I'll make sure I do better this time."

  Ivan slammed his fist against the table. "You're completely missing the point! You won't win this by being stronger, of course you're stronger than her, and than Daniel. It isn't enough! Do you have any idea why you're currently third?"

  There was an uncomfortably long silence; Eleanor watched them, looking for any indication that they might be about to move, ready to run if she had to.

  "I thought not," Ivan said at last. "So let me tell you what Daniel and Eleanor have got that you, somehow, seem to be incapable of grasping. Instinct. His instincts are subtle and meticulous, hers are fast and by all accounts deadly, but at the end of the day they both listen to the ancient voices in their heads."

  "Instinct?" Jorge sounded skeptical, but Eleanor knew Ivan was right. Most of her finest moments had been instinctive reactions – there wasn't time to think in the tightest of corners. Though she wasn't sure about Daniel, who tended to over-think everything.

  "Instinct," Ivan repeated. "And in an ideal world, between now and the next challenge you'd learn to start listening to yours, assuming you've got some. The only certainty is, one way or another, Venncastle needs you to win."

  "I'll try."

  "Have you heard anything I've said? Trying isn't good enough."

  "What more can I do?"

  "You owe it to the school to do better than just 'trying'. Fred's out of the running, so you're our only hope – failure is not an option. So it's time you pulled yourself together and start acting like you might be worthy of your heritage!"

  "Will you help me?"

  "What in all the Empire do you think I'm trying to do? I'll help you any way I can, but you have to do some of the work yourself."

  Eleanor stood up and edged quietly away from the door, feeling sick to her stomach at the conspiracy she'd apparently unearthed. Of course she knew there was some anger amongst the Venncastle contingent over Jon and Victor's combined failure – that would've been hard to miss – but this was something different. She'd never thought Ivan, of all people, would have turned against her. Venncastle loyalty was legendary, he'd told her that much, but he'd always given the impression that the Association mattered to him, too.

  She wondered if she should take it all as a rather oblique compliment – at least she was being considered a threat rather than a joke. But she really wanted to win, that was the only way she could guarantee her future position, and she was troubled by the idea of Jorge's strength being directed by Ivan's brain.

  And she couldn't assume it was just Ivan – who knew how many others might be involved? Venncastle certainly had the numbers.

  She walked straight back to her room and barricaded herself inside, no longer interested in food or even getting a wash. There was too much to think about.

  She sat on her bed and poured the last dregs out of a bottle of spring nectar that Raf had given her. She wished she could go and talk to him about what she'd heard, but for the first time she'd found something she didn't dare mention to him – not given that it was Ivan, and Jorge, and maybe the whole of his school that was implicated.

  She wondered briefly if there was anyone else she could talk to, but there was no-one she felt close enough to trust, when she didn't want Ivan to find out she'd been listening. She even considered approaching Daniel, the one person guaranteed to sympathise with anti-Venncastle sentiments, but even if he was prepared to talk to her he'd only think she was being weak or, worse, he'd want to rush her into doing something about it. And she wasn't sure she could bear him smugly pointing out that he'd been right all along to be paranoid.

  She gulped down the drink, wishing she'd had more than half a glass left; the lightheaded, careless feeling appealed to her more than it ever had before. As she sat and stared out of the window, watching the sky gradually darken, she thought about what to do next, turning over each possibility in her mind.

  She could try to report what she'd witnessed to the council, but then she'd have to admit to listening, and she'd have trouble proving anything since – so far as she could tell – no-one had actually done anything yet. Jorge and Ivan would deny any wrongdoing, it was unlikely the council would take any action based on her word against theirs, but Ivan would be warned. And he was far from stupid, he'd almost certainly just take more care in any future plans. Besides, there were enough Venncastle graduates around to make her life extremely uncomfortable.

  She could ignore it and try to carry on exactly as before, but she didn't know if she could make herself forget what she'd heard. She'd have particular trouble talking to people like Ivan and, especially, Raf... indeed, all the students from Venncastle whom she'd spent so much time with over the last few months. She was starting to wish she'd listened to Daniel's advice and avoided them all, if this was how they'd look to repay her friendship.

  No use going to the council, then, and doing nothing wasn't an option.

  Only one course of action seemed to remain: she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She'd keep tabs on Jorge until the summer contest, investigate Ivan's every move, and make absolutely sure they didn't have chance to cheat.

  She started her surveillance the next morning, arriving early for breakfast and spinning out her meal until Jorge had finished his, then walking a couple of paces behind him until he disappeared back into his room. She went to pick up her own weapons ready for class. She couldn't stake out the corridor to see if he went out again, that would be too conspicuous, but they had combat practice next, and from the wooden practice frame in the grounds she'd have a clear view of the entrance to Ivan's building.

  She jogged downstairs. Unsurprisingly, considering the drizzly weather, no-one else had yet come to practise outside. She climbed up onto the frame and amused herself doing hand-stands and somersaults along one of the rotating beams. If anyone saw her, they'd just assume she wanted to work on her balance.

  The morning passed without incident, Jorge was present as expected at lunch, and he wouldn't have dared to miss the afternoon's poisons class. Albert gave them a detailed lecture on making complex tinctures to mimic the ef
fects of common natural venoms, with the goal of tricking the victim into taking a supposed remedy which would actually speed their demise. Eleanor found this much more interesting than most of what they studied in poisons – at least it was clever – but her focus was on Jorge. When Fred let slip that Ivan would be going out that evening, however, she finally allowed herself a moment of relaxation. There was nothing Jorge could do on his own.

  The next day was free, and after an early breakfast Eleanor took up her position on the practice frame again. It was raining even harder than the previous morning, and she was fairly sure she'd have the place to herself.

  The one thing she'd forgotten to plan for, however, was what to do if she saw anything.

  She was hanging upside-down from one of the higher beams, flicking knives and stars towards a nearby tree, when she spotted Jorge running across the yard, cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

  Once he'd ducked inside Ivan's building she dropped to the ground, recovered her weapons, and ran after him. The second she stepped into the vestibule she knew she'd made one crucial mistake: she was dripping wet, and her tracks would be obvious in the corridors.

  She stripped off her outer clothes and shoes, wrapped them into a tight bundle, and tucked the whole package out of sight behind a pillar. If she ran into anyone she might have trouble explaining why she was wandering around barefoot in her vest and shorts, but at least she stood a chance of getting there without leaving conspicuous trails of water.

  She followed Jorge's damp footsteps to Ivan's door and pressed her eye to the keyhole. This was where her plans ran out. She couldn't just burst in and disturb them, and even if she brought someone else along as a witness, there was no way to prove they were conspiring. No, the only way forward was to try and find out what they were planning so she could catch them out later, when they tried to put their plans into action.

  "What is it you want me to do?" Jorge said. "You don't seem to believe I'm doing my best."

  "Are you?" Ivan sounded angry. "Because if this is all you're capable of, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and think about whether you're really cut out for this. Did our assessors make a mistake putting you forwards?"

  "No, sir."

  "Then you'll have to give me more than this."

  "What is it you want?"

  Eleanor missed his reply because she heard footsteps approaching in the distance and, with nowhere else to go in the dead end of the corridor, she braced one hand against each wall and pulled herself up, flattening her body against the ceiling. The footsteps turned out to be a servant, bringing a tray of sandwiches for Ivan and Jorge's lunch. It took her a moment to spot the opportunity: with both of them out of the way in the dining room, she could let herself into the sitting room and find somewhere to hide. That way she'd stand more chance of hearing everything. Once the servant had come out and disappeared around the corner, she dropped lightly to the floor and slipped inside the room.

  "Did you hear something?" Ivan asked.

  Eleanor panicked, threw herself to the ground, and rolled under the sofa, trying to keep as quiet as she could.

  "What?"

  "Oh, never mind. Probably just the wind."

  They chatted harmlessly about the unseasonally stormy weather as they ate their lunch, then came back through to the sitting room. Jorge sat directly above Eleanor's head, and she could feel the fabric brush against her cheek.

  "On your feet, then," Ivan said sharply. "If you're serious about getting this then you don't have time to waste sitting down."

  "Show me one more time."

  "No, no, you're missing the point. This isn't about copying me. Put the blindfold back on."

  There was a moment's shuffling, and then Jorge stood up.

  "Now turn around three times and throw."

  Eleanor watched Jorge's feet as he turned on the spot, remembering acutely how she'd felt when Ivan had spun her and then asked her to take aim. She'd had it harder, too, with all the different numbers on the boards.

  She was brought out of her reverie by a series of loud crashes as Jorge's inaccuracy brought half a shelf of tools down onto the floor. A stick of chalk rolled under the sofa and came to rest against Eleanor's arm, and she willed Ivan not to bother to look for it.

  She heard a crack as Ivan slammed his hand against something wooden; probably the door. "Get out of here," he growled. "Go and practise somewhere where there's less to break. And don't come back until you can do it without thinking."

  Eleanor heard the door click open and then closed, and Ivan sat down with a heavy sigh. From the little cutting sounds, and the offcuts of wood and leather landing on the floor near her face, she guessed he must be making one of his weapons.

  He stayed there for what felt like an eternity, and it wasn't until he snuffed out the lanterns and went to bed that Eleanor felt she could risk moving. As she crept out and went to retrieve her clothes from the vestibule, she felt a little dispirited. She'd wasted a whole day to keep an eye on Jorge, but she hadn't witnessed anything worse than a little extra help with his throwing. After all the times she'd gone to Ivan for guidance, she couldn't begrudge him that.

  She threw herself into her lessons over the next few days, trying to put the whole business out of her mind, but she kept wondering whether that was really all there was to it. If Ivan really wanted to guarantee Jorge winning the contest, he was going to have to do more than teach him a couple of knife tricks.

  It was after their craft lecture the following week that she next noticed Jorge branch off in the direction of Ivan's building. She stopped to adjust her boot laces, waited for the others to disappear from sight around the corner, and doubled back to follow him.

  "Why can't you tell me what it's going to be?" Jorge was asking as she put her ear to the door. She was getting worryingly familiar with this position.

  "Because I don't know. You're so bloody impatient! I can't give you information that hasn't even been decided yet."

  "But you will, once you know, won't you?"

  "Once the council have decided, you'll all find out within a day or two. Meanwhile, pay attention to your case studies, and if you still think you need my help once it's been announced, you know where to find me. But only if you've mastered the blindfold."

  Fearing Ivan's impatience would bring the conversation to an abrupt end, Eleanor turned and ran, not stopping until she reached the dining hall.

  Raf and Greg came in just before she'd finished her dinner; she crammed the remains of her roll into her mouth and got up to leave the room.

  "Ellie!" Raf came running after her and caught her arm. "Are you avoiding me?"

  "No," she lied, spitting crumbs everywhere. "Just very busy – there's a lot riding on this last contest, you know."

  "I'm sorry." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "It was a stupid question. I know you've got a lot on your mind, it just seems such a long time since we really had time to talk... you've seemed a bit distant, and then rushing off like that with barely a 'hello'."

  "I'm just working hard," she assured him. She didn't know how she could possibly explain why she didn't want to see him right now; it wasn't even his fault. But he'd never believe what she'd learnt about his school's conspiracy unless – worse – he already knew. Yet if they got talking, and particularly if he got her drinking, she wasn't sure she could avoid spilling out everything that was on her mind. "Look, I need to get on, but we'll catch up once all this nonsense is over."

  "Promise?"

  She nodded.

  He gave her a brief hug. "Good luck, Ellie. I'm rooting for you."

  She made her way back to her room in a daze and pulled her emerald necklace out from beneath the matress. She sat on the edge of the bed, clasping the pendant tightly in both hands and trying to fill her mind with happy memories from the moment Raf had given it to her. She wanted so badly to believe that he wasn't involved in Ivan's plot. She desperately needed to believe his words of support were genuine. Ye
t if there was any chance his Venncastle loyalty would colour his judgement, then she couldn't risk exposing what little she already knew. She needed to keep an eye on Jorge without any risk he might notice her, and that meant not trusting anyone.

  After projectiles the next day, Ivan called her back just as she was about to leave the hall.

  "Yes?" She turned to face him, heart pounding. Had he seen her running away from his room? Had he worked out what she'd heard?

  "Do you have a moment?"

  "Of course." She hoped she'd managed to force her voice into a natural timbre, but she felt frozen inside.

  "Sit down." He waved her across to the low benches at the side of the hall, and once the other students had all gone, he went to join her there.

  "Is there a problem?" she asked. "I know I'm not getting the hang of multiple stars as quickly as you might expect, but I am getting there."

  "This isn't about your performance – you're making fine progress on a difficult skill. Nothing to complain about there. This is, well, personal."

  She waited for him to elaborate without looking at him, hoping he couldn't hear the way her heart was hammering, painfully conscious of every beat.

  "The thing is," he went on, "young Raf's a bit worried he might've done something to upset you, and I wondered if there was anything I could do to mediate."

  "He hasn't upset me at all."

  "Really?"

  "I've just been so busy lately. You're working us hard!"

  "Well, you mustn't spend all your time working, it's not healthy. You need some breaks, and you need to spend some time with your friends, so I'll expect you to go along tomorrow night – and you can consider that an order."

  "But I–"

  "No excuses, Eleanor. I'll tell Raf he's to fetch you if you don't turn up at the usual time."

  She didn't know what to say; she certainly couldn't explain why she didn't want to go out with them, so she kept quiet. Maybe she could hide somewhere the following evening, or pretend to be out, though she couldn't expect any help from her roommates.

  "I'm glad that's settled, then," Ivan said, getting to his feet. "You know you can always come and see me if you need anything, don't you?"

  "Thanks," she said, though he was the last person who could help her with her current problems.

  When she got back to her room after dinner, still thinking about everything Ivan had said, she started to wonder whether she should invent something to go and talk to him about. She knew the way he left things scattered around his room, so if he was working on anything to help Jorge, there might be evidence lying around.

  But first, she had to get through an evening of pretending to be sociable with some indeterminate number of Venncastle students.

  She spent as long as she reasonably could over her dinner the following evening, then went to her room to get changed, hoping against the odds that they might have left without her, but when she eventually made her way down the stairs she met Raf on his way up.

  "You are coming out then, Ellie?" he said, turning to fall into step beside her. "I was just about to come and look for you, I thought you might've changed your mind."

  "Ivan told me I had to," she said. "He thinks I'm working too hard."

  "Well, I'm glad to see you – it's been far too long."

  "Yeah, it has." She looked at his earnest expression and wished she didn't have to work so hard to avoid him, then reminded herself sternly that that was precisely why he was a danger to her. Her instinct was to trust him, but for once she couldn't afford to risk following her instincts.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs where Fred, Nate and Greg were waiting.

  "Shouldn't you be training?" Fred asked when he caught sight of Eleanor. "Jorge hasn't been out in weeks."

  "I'm sure it'll do me good to have a break," she said. "No-one can work constantly, can they?"

  "He's having a good try," Fred said. "And knowing you, I'd have thought you'd want to put in just as much time."

  "Ivan's told Ellie she's to stop being such a workaholic," Raf said. "Don't put her off now she's agreed to come out!"

  "Is Ivan coming?" Eleanor asked. She didn't like the thought of what he and Jorge might be getting up to together while she was out of the way.

  "Not tonight."

  "I think you should go and get him, after all the fuss he made about me working too much. Make him come for one drink, at least."

  "Oh, he's much worse than you for getting caught up in work – always has been. But you won't change his mind if he thinks he's got too much on."

  Eleanor was wary of what the others might think if she tried too hard to persuade them, so she satisfied herself with the thought that she'd visit Ivan tomorrow and see what she could find in his rooms. Meanwhile, she simply had to stay on her guard and make sure she didn't give anything away.

  They went to a tavern that Eleanor didn't recognise, somewhere on the north side of town, where Raf bought tankards of beer for everyone.

  "So, you won't be coming out so often after the solstice," Nate said, looking between Fred and Eleanor. "Who d'you think's likely to be coming from school this year?"

  "Definitely Hal," Fred said. "And maybe Robbie or Sam?"

  "Not Robbie," Raf said. "He's good, technically, but he hasn't got the spirit for it. He'd be much better off in some corner of the army."

  "I think Kit would be okay, too," Nate said. "Though maybe he's a bit military."

  "I think they want him to stay and teach," Fred said. "He's the best swordsman we've had in years."

  Raf put his arm around Eleanor's shoulder. "Sorry, Ellie, this can't be much interest to you."

  "It's fine, don't worry." She'd been quietly glad of a topic where she could reasonably keep her mouth shut.

  "There are some murmurings that the Empire might be losing patience with us, since all our best students tend to be opt-outs," Raf went on, turning back to the others. "And Ivan said something about them wanting to bring the Association into line, too, so it's not just school stuff."

  "The Empress is getting grumpy in her old age," Fred said. "But she won't last long if she tries to make too many changes."

  "I heard she's planning to expand the Empire," Greg said. "Try again to take the southern mountains. Though if a couple of Flying Rock's best men couldn't even get back alive, I don't see the chances."

  Fred laughed. "What's the odds we'll get that mission next year, then? What d'you think, El, you up for a trip to the mountains?"

  "If that's what we have to do, why not?"

  "But it's impossible," Greg said. "The mountain men are vicious – they've destroyed whole legions. No-one comes back from the mountains."

  Eleanor smiled. "Definitely one for us, then. Nobody's infallible."

  She let it get to mid-afternoon the next day before she decided to go and call on Ivan. He waved her into his sitting room and offered her a drink before asking why she was visiting.

  "You said I could come if I needed to talk," she said, taking a seat by the fireplace although the grate was cold.

  "Of course."

  "I'm a bit concerned about this final contest," she said, fiddling with a star she'd had in her pocket. "It's hard to prepare for something so important, when we don't know what it is."

  "I'm afraid I can't give you any hints," Ivan said, sitting beside her. "No-one knows what it's going to be, yet. It won't be decided until a few days beforehand – it just depends on what needs to be done."

  "I wasn't expecting you to tell me, even if you knew... I mean, I wouldn't want to cheat." She paused momentarily for emphasis. "I just thought you might have some general advice."

  "All I can suggest is that you don't worry about training 'for the contest.' Forget about the contest, and focus on becoming the best that you can be – that'll serve you best in the long run. And this won't be like the last rounds: no staged fights, no carefully designed challenges to stretch you in particular directions, just a job that needs doing."


  "It really could be absolutely anything?"

  "Anything. So pay attention to all the missions you're taught about – case studies can give you a lot of clues. And whatever it is, you'll approach it in whatever way suits your style, so the most important thing is to be comfortable with yourself. That isn't an area where you have trouble. You just need to make sure you're in your best possible condition, and everything will fall into place on the night."

  Even though she'd asked the question without any real interest in his answer, she had to keep reminding herself not to take his words at face value; if he was helping Jorge, anything he said to her was unlikely to be good advice. But it didn't help that, aside from the part about forgetting the contest – which was plainly impossible – it all sounded very reasonable and sensible. There was nothing that stood out as being designed to steer her in the wrong direction.

  "Anyway, did you have a good time last night?" he asked. "I did check with Raf that you'd made it."

  "I'm sure it was good for me to get out. It's a shame you couldn't come yourself – I'm sure it's not good for you to get overworked, either."

  "Maybe next time, but things are busy in the real world at the moment. There's a lot of council stuff to do."

  "And students always pestering you for help," she said, thinking of Jorge more than herself.

  "Not so much of that, thankfully," he said, too quickly.

  "Well, I won't keep you long. I think I just needed reassuring."

  "Please don't think I'm rushing you, Eleanor. You're always welcome to take up some of my time."

  "Well, if you did have time while I'm here, I wondered if you'd take a quick look at my stars technique. I'm sure there's something not quite right."

  "Of course, of course. Let's have a quick play before dinner."

  "If you ordered some food, I could eat with you." She gave him what she hoped was her sweetest smile. "Then we'd have loads of time to practise."

  "I can do that. It's probably getting late already – let me go and have a word with the kitchen now, and then we'll have a look at those stars of yours."

  "Will you ask them for dessert?" she asked as he reached the door.

  "You should always have dessert if you want it. Wait here, then; I won't be long."

  She counted to ten after he'd left the room, just to be sure he'd really gone, and then started her search. They'd be going into the dining room once the food arrived, so she went to try the other doors first. She had to move quickly before he got back.

  The leftmost door opened into a small bedroom with a pallet on the floor, and shelves along the walls full of all kinds of bits and pieces. Eleanor's heart sank when she saw just how cluttered the space was but she walked the length of the room quickly, scanning every surface for anything that looked out of place. It was hard to define the norm for this room, though; there were parts of broken weapons and half-finished pipes, whittling knives and wood shavings, assorted darts and pellets, various unmarked bottles and jars, scraps of parchment and reels of wire. Any of it or none of it could have been part of some project to help Jorge defeat her.

  The next door turned out to be a store cupboard, filled with weapons and larger tools. Nothing of interest stood out, though Eleanor caught herself admiring the size of his private armoury, every hilt marked with some variant of the same amethyst design he'd showed her on their first meeting.

  She pushed the door closed and went back to examining the shelves and table-tops in the sitting room. She was shuffling through tools on the shelf by the window when Ivan came back; she froze as she heard the door open. She'd assumed she would have heard him in the corridor, giving herself enough time to get back to her seat and pretend she hadn't moved, but now she'd just have to brazen it out.

  "Looking for something?" Ivan asked. He sounded more amused than angry.

  "Just wondering if you had any more interesting weapons lying around," she said, hoping she'd managed to sound sufficiently casual about it. Nothing would be worse than acting guilty. "After all, I'm in love with that palm-blade, and I know you enjoy making stuff... I just wondered if you had anything else exciting lurking in here."

  "Well, if you're after something really fun, I can show you a little design I've been working on." He went through to his bedroom and came out holding something that looked like a glove.

  "What's that?"

  He slipped his hand into the glove, and now Eleanor could see that the design left his fingers open, and there was some additional structure built in across the back of his hand. He made a small movement with his thumb and something tiny fired across the room, lodging in the back of a chair.

  "Recognise it?" he asked.

  She shook her head, but went to pull the missile from where it had stuck. It was a small metal bolt, only about the length of her smallest finger, but it had easily sunk into the wood of the chair.

  "It's a portable version of the mechanism from the Puzzle Chamber – and of course, we used a version of it in the stage four Projectiles task. It's taken me about two years to get it working at this size, but I think I've cracked it now. Can you imagine having this much force in your pocket?"

  "Incredible." She could only hope that Ivan's plan didn't involve arming Jorge with one of these. "How soon will you be able to equip everyone?"

  He shook his head. "Never. This is just too powerful – we can't risk the design falling into enemy hands. No, we can only make a few of them, and we can only use them when we know we're fully in control."

  "Could you block it?" she asked. "If you knew it was coming, I mean."

  "Probably, but it'll be tough to deflect something that small, and that fast."

  Their dinner arrived while Eleanor was still examining the new invention, and she carried it through to the dining room with her. She had a quick look around the room whilst Ivan served the food, but again she saw nothing amongst the clutter that stood out as important.

  As she ate, her eyes flicked between Ivan's new creation and the cluttered shelves behind him.

  "Now, shall we have a look at your stars?" Ivan asked once they'd finished.

  He went across to his armoury closet and brought out a target board, which he hung on the wall, and four stars, which he passed to Eleanor.

  "Now, what is it that was giving you trouble?"

  "It's the aiming," she said. She held two stars ready in each hand, then flicked her left wrist to send one pair sailing neatly towards the target. "So that was fine. I'm okay as long as I want them to go parallel. But if I want to spread them..."

  She released the stars from her right hand to demonstrate, trying to send them to opposite edges of the board, but although they spun off in roughly the right directions they'd both started to wobble before they reached the target. They bounced without catching and fell to the floor, ineffectual.

  "See?"

  "Curious." He picked up the stars and handed two of them back to her, keeping the others for himself. "Most people have more trouble getting them to fly straight. Show me again."

  She tried again, and the same thing happened.

  "Ah, I think I see what you're doing. You're trying to use your hand movement to steer them, but you can't do two things at once that way. You need to start off with the stars angled as you want them" – he held up his own hand to demonstrate – "and then just throw them as if they were going to go straight. They'll spread on their own."

  He flicked his wrist towards the target, and the stars flew out in two smooth arcs towards the edges of the board.

  Eleanor adjusted her grip, took a deep breath, and tried again. It wasn't perfect, and only one of the stars caught properly in the target, but it was a definite improvement. She started to wonder, not for the first time, what was going on: Ivan wasn't acting like he was out to sabotage her. Yet she knew what she'd heard, and she couldn't afford to relax her guard for even an instant.