by V M Jones
Once we were dressed, we headed downstairs to the dining room, where Richard said everyone was meeting for breakfast. I felt a twinge of nerves — from Richard’s description of last night, the other kids had got to know one another pretty well. I was glad I didn’t have to walk in on my own. Richard must have guessed how I felt — he gave me an encouraging grin as we walked down the staircase, and whispered, ‘Wait till the others hear how you really got here!’
The dining room was warm and sunny and full of people. A few were standing at a sideboard by the wall, helping themselves from huge silver bowls, but most were sitting at the long table, eating and talking. The moment we walked in, the talking stopped and there was this awful silence. Everyone stared at me — a sea of unfamiliar faces.
Ms Usherwood popped up from the far end, where most of the adults were sitting. ‘I’d like to introduce Adam Equinox, everybody,’ she goes. ‘Adam joined us last night. I see you’ve already met Richard, Adam. Come and help yourself to some breakfast.’
There was enough food to feed an army. At one end there were platters of fresh fruit — orange, melon, strawberries, grapefruit, and something Richard reckoned was mango. There were cereals, too, and big pitchers of cold milk. Over in the middle were great silver bowls of bacon, kidneys, baked beans and scrambled egg. And at the other end were racks of hot, fresh toast, funny rolls the shape of crescent moons, and piles of sticky pastries with icing.
At first I felt too shy to take whatever I wanted, like Richard said we were supposed to do. But he seemed pretty relaxed. ‘Just take it in stages,’ he advised. ‘You can always come back for more.’
Once we’d helped ourselves, we sat down in two empty seats next to a short, very fat boy with straight blond hair. He had a big plate piled high with about half a dozen pastries, but that didn’t stop his little eyes darting straight to our plates to see if we’d found anything nicer. On the other side of him was a woman who could only be his mum — big and billowy in a pale pink floaty dress. She was nibbling on a tiny piece of toast. ‘Say hello to Adam, dear,’ she told the boy. ‘We must remember our manners.’
‘Hello, Adam,’ said the fat kid, through a mouthful of pastry.
‘Introduce yourself properly, son,’ growls a fat guy in a suit who had to be his dad. ‘Let people know your name — walk tall and stand proud, that’s my man.’
The kid swallowed, and held out a sticky hand. ‘I am Jamie Fitzpatrick,’ he announced obediently. ‘How do you do?’
I shook his hand, which felt as sticky as it looked — and sweaty. I wanted to wipe it on my shirt, but I didn’t think it would be polite.
At that moment Ms Usherwood stood up at the head of the table. ‘Could I have your attention please, while I outline the day’s activities.
‘The adults will meet outside the main entrance at nine thirty — that’s in fifteen minutes. This morning, Shaw will take you on a conducted tour of the gardens. As you are aware, these are normally closed to the public. Highlights of the garden tour include the wildflower meadow, modelled on the alpine pastures of Switzerland, and the Oriental, South African and traditional English country gardens. You will also be visiting the walled garden, the organic kitchen garden, the water garden, and, of course, Fantasy Glade, which is inspired by landscapes derived from Quentin Quested’s Karazan series. The morning will conclude with a gourmet picnic lunch under the oaks on the east lawn.’
There was a subdued murmur of approval from the parents.
‘There is a more exacting schedule for the children. The initiatives course planned for this morning has been postponed to the afternoon, to give the course a chance to dry out.’
What was an initiatives course? I looked over at Richard, and he looked back at me blankly.
Ms Usherwood continued: ‘Instead, we will be conducting the more formal part of the selection process this morning. I’d like you all to meet in the hall, also at nine thirty, and we will proceed from there.’
Jamie’s pudgy hand went up. ‘Yes, James?’
‘Please, Miss Usherwood, will we need anything? Like a pencil case, or a calculator, or anything like that?’
‘No, James, everything you need will be supplied. And now, if there are no further questions, perhaps you will excuse me.’
A babble of excited — and nervous — chatter followed her departure.
A tall, broad-shouldered boy with dreadlocks — Hannah’s ants’ nest hair, I’d bet — was talking about the initiatives course. ‘I’m not worried about it,’ he said, in a loud, confident voice. ‘If it’s outside, that means it’s physical; if it’s physical, I’ll crack it, no worries. I’m the sprint and long distance champ at my school and I can jump four metres seventy in long jump.’
A pretty dark-haired girl piped up from the other side of the table. ‘It’s all very well for you, Zach. I hope it’s nothing to do with ball games. I’m so hopeless, I can’t even hit a tennis ball.’
‘If there are proper tests, like at school, I hope they’re — what do you call it? — mulpital choice,’ goes Richard. ‘That way, you can always guess the answers.’
‘I really enjoy creative writing and essays,’ said a plain-looking girl with mousy-coloured hair and ears that stuck out. ‘I’m OK with comprehension tests and stuff. Just so long as it’s nothing to do with worms…’
‘Do you think it might be arm wrestling?’ asked Richard hopefully. But everyone ignored him.
‘Are you scared of worms, Genevieve?’ said a thin-faced, red-haired boy in the corner. ‘Wish I’d known that last night!’
‘Well, I’m praying it’s nothing to do with maths,’ muttered Richard. I was liking him more every minute.
‘But maths is so easy, Richard,’ said Jamie loftily. ‘It’s all logic, plain and simple. Personally, I’m an all-rounder, so I’m hoping the tests will cover as wide a range as possible. I’d describe myself as more of an academic than a sportsman, though.’
‘Focus on the positive, James,’ chips in his dad. ‘With a positive attitude, the sky’s the limit.’
This reminder that the grown-ups were listening put a sudden dampener on the conversation. I pushed my chair back. ‘What about you, Adam?’ asked Genevieve. ‘What are you best at?’
There was a ghastly silence while I thought frantically. Everyone was looking at me, but my mind was a complete, total blank. What was I best at? What was I even slightly good at? I felt my face burn. The silence stretched longer, like a rubber band about to snap.
Suddenly a shrill voice piped up from the door. ‘Adam is good at everything! At mountain climbing and wrestling and leapfrog and stories and sailing and … and jousting!’ shouted Hannah triumphantly, with a little jump for emphasis.
There was a startled pause. Then everyone laughed, and there was a general pushing back of chairs as people headed off to get ready for the day.
I wished with all my heart it was true.
The Quest Test
‘Now,’ said Q, peering at us through his cloudy glasses, ‘if you’d please turn on your computers …’
We were sitting in a big, air-conditioned room on the ground floor. The blinds were drawn over the long windows, and the room was bathed in cool fluorescent light. There was a clean whiteboard up at the front, where Q was standing. Over on one side was something round draped in a black cloth, standing on a pedestal.
Something about the room gave me a familiar, sinking feeling, and it didn’t take me long to figure it out. It reminded me of a classroom. The desks were bigger, though, with plenty of space between, and on each one was a computer. Up at the front was a desk the same as ours, also with a computer — for Q, I supposed.
Beside each screen was a tall glass of water and a little bowl of wrapped peppermints. I wondered if they were for us — and whether we were allowed to help ourselves. At his desk across the room Jamie unwrapped two in rapid succession, and popped them both into his mouth.
Keeping an eye on what the others were doing, I felt along
the side of my computer for the on-off switch. The screen flickered, and then lots of white words flashed past too quickly to read. Another flicker, and the screen turned blue, with about ten little brightly coloured emblems on it. One of them seemed familiar: it was the logo of Quest for the Golden Goblet, just like the one on Cameron’s computer. My heart leapt — maybe we were going to play computer games!
‘I’d like you all to click on the icon at the top left, please,’ Q was saying. Quickly, I checked to see what everyone else was doing. They were using the mouse. Tentatively, I reached for mine and gave it a wiggle. A little arrow squiggled round on my screen. I put it on the top left icon, and clicked with my finger, like I’d done at Cameron’s.
The blue screen disappeared, replaced by a black one with tiny pinpricks of stars. While I watched, words formed in silver on the blackness:
Welcome, Adam Equinox.
Cool!
‘Now,’ Q was saying up at the front, ‘it’s important that you work completely at your own pace. Don’t worry about what your neighbour is doing; don’t worry if you feel you’re lagging behind. This isn’t a race. Trust your instincts. And remember, for many of the questions, there is no right answer. Please begin when you’re ready.’
Yeah, but how? I looked at the screen. Ah — there was a little rectangle over on the right, down at the bottom. Start, it said. I clicked on it.
What is the next number in this series?
7 3 6 5 12 7 4 9 2
Hopelessly, I stared at the numbers. They didn’t make any kind of sense. There was no pattern. Down the bottom, the little rectangle said, Next. I reckoned I’d scout ahead a bit, maybe see if there were some easier questions further on. I clicked.
What is the missing letter in this sequence?
r e t u p m o
I sighed. I was beginning to wish I’d never come. Next.
Insert the missing letter to form two words.
FRO _ ROW
I felt sick and stupid, and my head was starting to ache. The words sat smugly on the screen, and the cursor blinked, mocking me. All round me, the other kids were clicking their mice and tapping away at their keyboards. I risked a glance over at Richard. He was chewing his thumbnail and frowning, but as I watched, his face broke into a relieved grin, and he typed something in and sat back, arms folded. Next.
Which is the odd one out?
Tree Mouse Rock Eagle Ant
Quick as a flash, I clicked on Rock. Next.
A boat will bear the weight of three people without sinking. If Jane weighs twice as much as Simon, and Simon weighs half as much as Rob, and Rob is the tallest, which two can safely travel in the boat at the same time? I grinned, and tapped in the answer.
Over on the other side of the room, Jamie’s hand was flapping in the air. Q went quietly over to him. I heard the murmur of his voice, then Jamie’s, loudly: ‘I’m first to finish, aren’t I? It was so easy!’ Another murmur from Q, then: ‘Well, I want to check my answers! My dad made me promise …’
More murmurs, then a disgruntled silence. Next.
In three day’s time, it will be Wednesday. What was the day before yesterday?
I looked up at the ceiling, and counted on my fingers. Next.
Please answer YES or NO to the following questions.
I find it easy to talk about how I am feeling.
I often do things on the spur of the moment.
If things don’t work out first time, I have another go.
I enjoy solving problems.
I like working in groups.
I can usually tell how other people are feeling.
In a group of people, I am often the quietest one.
I regard truth as flexible, rather than as an absolute.
Frowning, trying to be honest, I worked my way through them all. It took me a while to work the last one out. Then I typed in No. Next.
For your birthday, you are allowed to choose between three computer games. Which would you choose?
a) A fantasy adventure game set in an imaginary world.
b) A war game based on strategy.
c) A puzzle game which requires logical reasoning, sequential thinking and pattern finding.
I clicked on a). I was prepared to bet everyone had chosen that answer. Next.
In a sticky situation, which of the following would you be most likely to rely on?
a) Your intelligence
b) Your strength
c) Your instincts
d) Your companions.
I chose c). Next.
While playing a computer fantasy adventure game, you find yourself in a position to select only one of the following objects. Which would you choose?
a) A rope with grappling hook
b) A cloak
c) An axe
d) A bottle of transparent liquid
e) A book
f) A shield
I thought for a moment, and then clicked on d). Immediately, the cursor flashed and letters appeared like magic on my screen: W - h - y -? I blinked. I looked up front, where Q had been standing. He was sitting at his desk, looking at his computer screen. As though he felt my eyes on him, he looked up, and smiled, and nodded encouragingly. I wondered if he had somehow typed the question in. It was crazy, I knew, but nonetheless, the thought warmed me. Painstakingly, I typed:
Rope — eksplor
Cloke — hyde/disguys
Ax — fite
Book — reed
Sheeld — defens
I cood do all thos things anyway.
BUT liqid — heeling, mabe majikal?
So the best.
T-h-a-n-k y-o-u A-d-a-m, typed my computer.
I looked up. Q was smiling at me. Next.
In the game, you need to choose a dominant colour for your clothing. What colour would you choose?
I thought. Then, Brown, I typed carefully. Next.
You are required to choose a character for yourself in the same game. Which of the following would you choose to be?
a) A warrior
b) A magic maker
c) A thief
d) Other (please specify)
I sat for a couple of minutes, thinking about that one. Then I tapped in, d) Myslef.
At once the screen flashed and turned blue again, just like at the beginning. It looked as if I wasn’t going to have the chance to go back to the questions I’d left out.
I grinned to myself. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Initiatives
‘Anyone fer another banger?’
I’d already had two, but I joined Jamie, Richard and Zach for thirds. I didn’t get the impression Shaw was counting.
‘What will we be doing after lunch, Shaw?’ asked Jamie, with his mouth full.
Shaw moved the last few sausages over to the side of the griddle, away from the heat. ‘Ah, well, Jamie, that’s just goin’ ter be a bit o’ fun. Get you kids out in the fresh air after bein’ cooped up.’
It had turned into one of those perfect days that sometimes follow heavy rain. Everything looked fresh and clean. The grounds of Quested Court — at least, the part where us kids were having our barbecue — were like the very coolest kind of park — lawns like green velvet, a fountain, and huge old trees. Best of all, though, everyone was being so kind. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d got all the way through to lunch time without being yelled at.
‘Right — all ready? Let’s ’ead off, then. Foller me.’
We followed Shaw across the lawn, past tall, clipped hedges and into a forest of pine trees. We were walking in ones and twos, the three girls sticking together. Richard and I were joined by Jamie, whose short legs had to do the occasional skip to keep up. He was puffing slightly, partly because he seemed determined to talk non-stop while he walked.
‘I wonder who’ll make it into the final five,’ he said. ‘I’m a logical choice, plus I did really well in the test — a hundred percent, I reckon.’ His voice dropped to a breathy whisper. ‘Some o
f those questions were pretty dumb, though. I mean, you just couldn’t figure out what you were supposed to say. What did you put for the one about the sticky situation, Adam?’
I sighed. This was exactly the kind of conversation I hated. ‘Can’t remember,’ I fibbed.
Jamie shot me a calculating look. ‘Really? I have an excellent short-term memory. Hey, wait up, won’t you, guys? Do you have to walk so fast?’
Shaw had come to a stop up ahead, where the trees were thinner. Whatever ‘initiatives’ was, it looked as though we had arrived.
Dotted round the clearing were what looked like half a dozen or so wooden structures. I could see a high wooden wall, a tall pole with a car tyre beside it and a weird-looking net with different size holes in it, strung between two posts. There seemed to be others, too, off between the trees.
Shaw stood facing us, hands in his pockets, looking all set to enjoy himself. ‘Right, kids, listen up good. This ’ere’s the fun part, so yer don’t want ter take it too serious. First off, we’ll split yer inter two groups.’ He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, and consulted it. ‘We’ve got Kenta —’ a slim little olive-skinned girl with straight black hair moved up beside him. He gave her a nod and a wink. ‘Zach —’ Dreadlocks sauntered up beside her. ‘Jamie —’ Jamie waddled importantly to the front. ‘Maria … and Adam.’ Maria was the pretty dark-haired girl who didn’t like ball games. ‘OK, you lot are one team, the rest of yer are the other.
‘There’s six obstacles. The aim is ter get yer team over them all as quick as yer can. It ’elps ter work as a group — and that’s all I’m tellin’ yer.’ I gave Richard a grin and he gave me the thumbs-up. I wished we were on the same team, but somehow I didn’t think there’d be any point asking to change.
Shaw handed out laminated sheets telling us the order of the obstacles.
Zach pushed to the front and took ours. Jamie’s hand went up. ‘Yeah, Jamie?’
‘Please, Mr Shaw, do we choose a leader? Or will you choose the leader for us?’
‘Aha, Jamie — now yer onto it! I don’t pick the leader … but mebbe that’s part of it … and mebbe I shouldn’t be tellin’ yer.’ Shaw’s broad, good-humoured face creased into a rare smile. But the dark eyes flicking round the group were shrewd and calculating, and I had a sudden feeling Shaw was seeing a lot more than he let on. That there was more to him than he liked to pretend … and he might be more involved in the selection process than he wanted us to know. ‘So, get yer thinkin’ caps on. Teamwork an’ leadership, that’s the ticket — just like the army!’