Trials

by Sadie Moss

  I glance around at my fellow contestants, wondering if any of them are as fucking nervous as I am, and it occurs to me belatedly that I don’t even remember all of their names. I’ve been so focused on myself and my struggles with this whole thing, I couldn’t tell you anything about them other than what school they represent.

  Actually, I feel kind of bad about that. They arrived a few days ago in preparation for the upcoming challenge, but I’ve barely seen them. Surely as contestants, we should be allowed to mingle and commiserate a bit instead of being kept so separate, right? Isn’t this whole thing supposed to be about promoting inter-school relationships and camaraderie? Maybe the other students who are just here to watch are getting that, but I’m sure not.

  Then again, maybe all the other contestants are having sleepovers where they braid each other’s hair and paint each other’s nails and just haven’t invited the girl with Unpredictable magic. Who knows.

  “Today,” Dean Hardwick tells us, his voice magically amplified for the crowd’s benefit, “you will be using your magic to assist in a treasure hunt of sorts—the retrieval of an object specifically attuned to you. Linked to your magic.”

  Eight assistants walk up, each holding something small. One comes to stand in front of me, and I glimpse a thin silver ring in her palm. She has light red hair, a smattering of freckles, and warm eyes. At least she’s looking at me kindly, not glaring or cringing in fear; I’ve been studiously ignoring the looks some of the visitors from other schools have thrown my way, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed them.

  “Once your rings are attuned to you, they will be hidden somewhere inside the quad. You will have one hour to find them using your magic,” the dean continues, gesturing to a large screen set up behind the nearby risers. There’s a countdown timer on it bearing the numbers 60:00. “You can use any means necessary, but you cannot use a finding spell—the rings are enchanted to resist such a spell—and you cannot use a spell that will compel the assistants who hide the rings to tell you where yours is.”

  I roll my shoulders, trying to stay loose and relaxed. No big loss, seeing as how I don’t know either of those spells anyway.

  “Other than that, you can use any means necessary.” Hardwick claps his hands together, and the assistants all step forward.

  The redheaded girl places one hand over my heart, clasping her other hand around the ring.

  A warm glow leaks out from between her fingers, and an echoing warmth blooms in my chest.

  “It’s attuned to you now,” she tells me as the glow fades. She pulls her hand away from me and uncurls her fist, whispering something to the ring.

  The silver band vanishes.

  “Good luck!” she says brightly.

  “Contestants!” Hardwick announces. “Your time starts now!”

  Ah, crap.

  I close my eyes, gathering my focus. The ring is linked to my magic, right? That means even if I can’t do a finding spell, my magic should guide me to it—it should be drawn toward the thing it’s connected to.

  Concentrating hard, I search internally, feeling around for something like a string tugging at me, or a warmth guiding me like that old “hot and cold” game…

  Nothing.

  I open my eyes to see my fellow contestants all wandering off in various directions.

  Fuck.

  I drop into a crouch, trying to stay calm as anxiety starts to set in. Why don’t I feel anything? Is it because my magic is on the fritz? Because I don’t believe in myself enough? Because I haven’t found inner peace and balance?

  Goddamn it, I should be able to do magic without having to read a dozen self-help books first!

  Pressing the heels of my hands to my closed eyes, I imagine the ring, trying to draw a vivid picture of it in my mind. I didn’t get a great look at it before the girl sent it away, but I think I manage to create a reasonable facsimile anyway.

  Where are you, ring? Where are you?

  My head starts to hurt from the pressure on my eyes, and I swear my ears are leaking smoke as my brain overheats, but nothing else happens.

  For fuck’s sake.

  I stand up, dusting off my pants with angry swipes of my hands. The gathered crowd is observing quietly, and it’s a million times worse than in the escape room where I knew they were watching but couldn’t see them. If I look out into the stands right now, I’ll see Asher, Cam, and Dmitri. And over by the staff section, Roman. I’ll see their disappointment, and even worse… their hope.

  Their belief that I still might find a way not to screw this up.

  Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I blink rapidly, swallowing hard. I am not going to cry in front of a huge crowd of magic users. Not in front of my classmates, and definitely not in front of the visitors from other schools who’re just looking for another reason to think less of Unpredictables.

  I do another check, mentally canvassing my body for a pull, a tug in any direction.

  Nothing.

  A knot grows in my stomach. All around me, the other seven contestants are moving around the quad, some more confidently and some with a little hesitation, but they’re all doing something. It’s like everyone else has a sense that I don’t have, like I’ve stopped being able to see in color.

  Well, fuck. I’m not just going to stand here like an idiot for the next hour. I can at least show the spectators that students from Griffin Academy don’t lay down and give up when faced with a challenge. And Dean Hardwick did say we could use any means besides those off-limits spells.

  If my own two eyeballs are all I have to work with, then that’s what I’ll use.

  Clenching my jaw, I cast my gaze over the ground around me.

  Jesus. This quad is huge. And that ring is so damn small.

  I move slowly, keeping my head down and hoping desperately for a glint of light, a flash of silver. My head swivels back and forth as I search the ground, and I hear a murmur from the crowd as people realize what I’m doing.

  Shame burns my cheeks, but I refuse to look up. I start at one end of the quad and work my way slowly across it, occasionally crouching down to poke at a promising gleam or to nudge a pile of leaves out of the way. My breath clouds in front of my face—it’s unseasonably warm for late February, but still chilly—and my mind empties as I throw all my focus into my search.

  It’s almost hypnotic, in a way. The steady movement of my head as I peer at the ground, the low murmurs from the crowd, the flicker of shadows on the grass as wispy clouds drift by overhead.

  I’m crouched down beside a tree about halfway across the quad, digging into the dirt for what turns out to the tab of a soda can, when I notice it.

  Silence.

  The steady murmur of voices around me has died out. My heart skips a beat, and when I look up, I find everyone staring at me—including all seven of the other contestants, each holding a ring.

  My gaze drags over to the countdown timer, which has a minute and thirty seconds left on it, and my stomach pitches. How long ago did the last of my competitors find their prize? How long has everyone been waiting for me, wondering if I’ll find my ring at all before my time runs out?

  Even though my pride screams at me to do something, I can’t bring myself to resume my search. There’s no point. I’ve still got over a third of the quad to cover, and that’s assuming I didn’t somehow miss the tiny silver ring in the part I already combed through.

  I’m not going to find it. I’m going to fail.

  For a minute and thirty seconds, I stare at the crowd and they stare at me, and with every second that ticks by, my heart feels more and more like a lump of lead in my chest.

  Finally, the countdown clock hits 00:00, and a loud buzzer sounds.

  “And that… ends the challenge,” Hardwick says.

  My face burns. I want to sink into a hole and die.

  The student from Syren Academy, Nicholas, is declared the winner, and then the rest of us are ranked according to our time. When Hardwick announce
s my name in last place, I swear I can hear the disappointment in his voice.

  Afterward, I just want to go to my dorm room and pretend nothing else exists, that I don’t even exist, but after the announcements wrap up and Provost Johnson gives little medals to the top contestants, I immediately find myself surrounded by Alyssa and her gang.

  Goddamn it.

  “Congratulations.” The Queen Bitch cocks her head, eyes glinting with a mix of cruel delight and anger. “You just embarrassed the entire school. Did you even get close to the ring?”

  “This is what happens when they let people without experience compete,” Megan says with a sigh. “Honestly, that was child’s play. I could’ve found it in less than half an hour.”

  “We all could have.” Alyssa scoffs. “And yet you were practically on your hands and knees searching for it. You made a complete ass of yourself. You’re supposed to represent the academy, and that’s the best you can do?”

  “Do you even care?” Megan asks, while Cristina smirks silently behind her. “About the school, about winning? Are you trying to embarrass us on purpose?”

  “I bet that’s exactly what it is.” Alyssa smirks.

  I shove past them. Evil little witches. I don’t have to stand around and listen to their bullshit. Even if today it hurts more than usual.

  Alyssa calls after me, her musical voice ringing in the air, “Everyone knows you hate this place, Sinclair. Stop dragging everyone else down with you. We’d be better off if you left!”

  I ignore her and make a beeline toward my dorm. I don’t know where the guys are. They’re probably looking for me, but for once, I hope they don’t find me. I just want to—

  “Elliot?”

  I stop, surprised at the voice, and turn.

  Kendal stops behind me, fidgeting nervously. She must have broken away from her pack of so-called friends and followed me.

  “What, forgot an insult?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “No.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, looking away. “I just wanted to say that was a really hard challenge,” she says finally. “I wouldn’t beat yourself up for losing.”

  “It’s not just about me. I let the whole school down,” I point out.

  She shrugs, playing with the ends of her auburn hair. “Honestly, I don’t think I could’ve beaten that challenge. And I don’t think Alyssa or Megan or Cristina could either, no matter what they say. So…” She clears her throat. “Anyway, I should go.”

  She turns and hurries off, heading after the others who have already disappeared into Wellwood Hall.

  Huh. That was… something. Kendal’s never actively joined in on taunting me, but she hasn’t ever spoken kindly to me, either. So I guess this is a step in the right direction for her.

  In any case, it sure as fuck doesn’t help me. Although it was nice of her to say.

  I resume my trek to the men’s dormitory and climb the steps up to our room. The guys aren’t here. Good. I flop onto my bed, ignoring the text alerts on my phone from Maddy asking how it went and from the guys asking where I am. They’ll find me eventually, and maybe by then I’ll be in a better mood.

  Because honestly, right now? I just want to hide and never be found.

  I can’t believe I messed up so badly. That I never even got close to the ring. Or maybe I did, but I just walked right past it. The damn thing could’ve been in my pocket the whole time and I wouldn’t have realized.

  Kendal’s words were thoughtful, but while I usually ignore Alyssa… I think this time she was right. I’ve got the reputation of the whole school riding on how well I do in this competition. Sure, I might not get first place. But I’m not supposed to get last.

  The expressions on everyone’s faces, on Dean Hardwick’s face, the faces of my professors, as I looked up and realized the other seven contestants had all finished… how long did everyone sit in agonized, awkward silence as I combed through the grass like an idiot? How long did it take before everybody realized the Unpredictable had failed so badly?

  I remember my worry that Dmitri threw his fight with me in the battle royale, that he let me win. God, I hope that’s not true. He would’ve succeeded in this competition. He wouldn’t be letting the entire school down.

  My phone rings. It’s Maddy—I can tell by the ringtone I picked out just for her. If I don’t answer, she’ll know something’s wrong.

  With a sigh, I swipe the screen to answer. “Hey, Mads.”

  “Hey. How’s it been?” Her voice is careful, like she already knows something’s up. Maybe word has already gotten back to her about how the competition went. Maybe she watched the livestream.

  Oh shit, I hope she didn’t.

  “It’s been fine,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral.

  “How’d the competition go?”

  “Crappy.” Those fucking tears sting my eyes again, and for a moment, I can’t say anything. Then I force my voice to sound light as I add, “It’s okay though. It’s not like I expected to win or anything.”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Would you like to… um… watch something on Netflix together?” Mads asks. “Some stupid comedy? Or a bad horror film?”

  “That… would be really nice.” It’s been ages since we did something like that together.

  It doesn’t make things completely better, but watching something with Maddy, even if it’s just over the phone and we’re still miles apart—just getting to be a sister again— helps. It makes me forget about the world outside for a little while.

  Even if I fail at literally everything else, I’m good at being a sister. I might be a disaster in the rest of my life, but Maddy’s the one thing I know I’ve done right.

  Chapter 14

  It’s been a week and a half since I… well, for lack of a better expression, tripped and fell flat on my face, metaphorically anyway. I’ve been handling the whole thing with the grace and poise for which I am known.

  That is to say, I’ve been hiding in our dorm room for fourteen days.

  I go to classes, of course, and take my stupid midterms. But every second I’m not in class, I’m holed up in the room I share with the guys. Dmitri doesn’t seem inclined to tell me to get out, although he doesn’t look pleased at my hiding, either. Cam’s been doing his best to try and coax me outside, even just for a run through the woods on the west side of campus. But I really don’t feel like being around people right now.

  I liked being anonymous, you know? Back in Portland, I was a nobody, and I didn’t exactly like not having friends or connections—but Jesus, at least there wasn’t this massive fucking pressure. People didn’t talk about me, people didn’t care who I was, what I did, where I went, or who I hung out with. I could just be myself without looking over my shoulder constantly wondering if I was going to be judged for every action or decision.

  Now everyone’s watching me. Not just my classmates and professors, but the visitors from other schools as well. I can’t stop wondering what they’re thinking.

  I never would’ve thought it before, but I want to do well in this competition and make my school look good. I want my classmates to see me compete and feel proud, to know that we’re just as good as any other magic users out there.

  But as it stands right now, I’m just going to be another example of why Unpredictables are so looked down upon.

  I’m lying in bed and generally feeling sorry for myself, wondering if I should marathon a few more episodes of Law & Order so I can at least pat myself on the back for not getting murdered in some back alley, when Asher walks in.

  He’s been very sweet this whole time, bringing me food, making sure I shower, and not letting me turn into a total depressed lump.

  When Asher sees me lying there like Bridget Jones, he stops short. “Um, Elliot?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why aren’t you getting ready?”

  “For what? My expulsion?” Okay, so that was a little dramatic. Sue me.

  He frowns.
“No. The Inter-academy Ball is tonight.”

  Oh, fuck me.

  I’d forgotten about it until right this second, but part of the whole “schools intermingling” thing is that there’s a big ball after the first two trials. People can supposedly use the chance to network and get to know one another; it’s all to promote that fun, friendly atmosphere. If you believe the brochure, anyway. Personally, I think it’s a big invitation for people to hook up with students from other schools so they don’t have to worry about running into said hook-up in class every morning for the rest of the semester. Awkward.

  Then again, I’m banging my teacher. I probably shouldn’t judge anyone.

  The point is, this thing is huge. The whole school is invited, but as one of the contestants, I’m required to be there.

  “Fuck!” I yell, because I’m so full of dignity. Launching myself off my bed, I race into the bathroom and slam the door behind me.

  Some of the bathrooms in the men’s dormitory are shared between rooms, but we’re wedged in a corner of the building, so we get a bathroom all to ourselves. It’s a good thing too, because even though my living here is pretty much an open secret among all the guys on our floor, it would be harder for them to ignore me if we had to share a bathroom. And it’s an extra good thing today, because it means nobody except Asher has to hear me yell about eyeliner for twenty minutes.

  I don’t normally care all that much about how I look. I actually don’t even wear makeup. Not that I’ve got anything against it. Tamlin’s makeup is amazing; I don’t know how she does it. It’s just never been something I cared about. I don’t find it fun, and it’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone besides myself.

  But right now?

  I’m trying to salvage what little reputation I have left.

  “Um, Elliot?” Asher knocks on the door. “Can I help?”

  “You can bring me the dress hanging in the right-hand side of the closet, the green one, and no matter what I look like when I come out of here, you can tell me I look pretty.”