“What do you think they’ll do for the first part of the challenge?” I’m whispering to Ania, who’s standing tall in the chilly wind whipping over the flat plains of the island.
“Probably something very uncomfortable,” she says placidly, “if not acutely painful.”
“Oh,” I put my hand on my stomach. I willnotthrow up. At least right now.
“Welcome, students!” Dean Christie shouted, looking alarmingly cheerful. The rest of the college has gathered to watch, probably hoping someone will die in a terrible way.
“This is a three-part challenge,” she continued, “the first team to get to their flag wins. The Leader can direct their team but cannot participate.”
Glancing over at Lucca, I can tell he doesn’t like that.
“One of the key qualities to being a great leader is being able to direct your people successfully and trust that they’ll handle the job.” Professor Fukumoto says. “Even if you know you’re sending them into danger.”
No, Lucca really doesn’t like this. His mouth is a thin, flat line as he listens to the instructors.
“Your first task,” calls the Dean, “use these logs to create a bridge over the ravine and have a team member cross it successfully.” She fires a pistol in the air. “Go!”
The ravine she’s talking about is a deep split in the rocky surface of the field. The bridge that’s usually there is gone, and the pile of cut logs she’s pointing to must weigh two hundred pounds each. The rest of the teams are picking their biggest players, but Lucca’s picked two muscled Seniors I don’t recognize and Jun, who’s very lean. He gives them a quick series of directions and they race off to the logs.
“Brilliant,” murmurs Ania.
“Please explain,” I ask, leaning closer.
Our three are moving slower than the others because Jun can’t carry one of the logs on his own. He’s still helping where he can and I see him directing the other two on where to place the logs.
“Do you know what Jenga is?” Ania says.
“The game with the wooden pieces and you stack them until they fall?” I said.
“Yes. Jun is the campus champion for the life-size Jenga pieces on the grounds by the main building.”
“I’ve never seen them,” I admit, marveling at the creation of our team’s bridge. Two other log spans were finished before ours, including Mateo’s team. But when his team member tries to cross it, one of the logs slips almost instantly, sending him plummeting onto a safety net stretched out ten feet below. The next team is doing better, their man is halfway across, but his weight is unbalancing their log bridge and he falls, too.
“Go!” Lucca roars, “You’ve got this!”
Jun’s creation looks haphazard, but he’s traversing it effortlessly. When he reaches the other side, the Dean blows her whistle.
“First round goes to Toscano!”
Professor Fukumoto doesn’t give any time for gloating or celebration. “The second task is at the grotto,” he shouts, “get moving.”
I exchange glances with Lucca as we run past the combat gym. I’ve swam in the grotto before, but it’s not my favorite thing. I’ve always thought a college swimming pool would be well-lit and nicely heated. The Ares Academy uses a cenote. It’s a deep cavern created by collapsed rock that fills with rainwater. Picking our way down the carved stone stairs, I’m already hoping Lucca doesn’t pick me for this challenge. It’s not as brutally cold as the Atlantic surrounding the island, but no one can stay in for long, aside from the two Norwegian students who insist on swimming every day.
Neither one of them, unfortunately, are on our team.
“This task is two-pronged,” Dean Christie grins, and it’s not the “fun aunt” smile, it’s the leer of a sociopath. “You must retrieve your team’s bag from the water. It might be on a ledge, or at the very bottom. At the same time, you must attempt to take another team’s bag as well. Your members may not leave the water until both objectives have been achieved. Of course, the other team’s players will also attack to retrieve their bag from you. You will need a team member for retrieval, one for defense, and one for offense. Leaders, you have five minutes to pick your people and have them enter the water.”
Lucca looks over the remaining six of us. His gaze pauses on me for a moment and moves on. He picks Ania and two of the men. When the pistol goes off, they all dive in. One of our team members is a sturdy-looking blond guy, circling the water and looking for the yellow bag with a “T” on it. They all look heavy and lumpy, I suspect they’re filled with rocks. Or lead. This administration is that sadistic.
The blond swimmer spots our bag and heads for it at the same time as three swimmers from other teams. Apparently, no one likes us for winning the first challenge. Ania glides through like an orca, effortlessly knocking aside two of the challengers as our third member goes for the bag with an “R” on it.
“Crap, that’s Aleksandr’s,” I said nervously.
Lucca glares at me. “Whose team are you on?”
“Yours,” I said, squeezing his arm, “always.”
Several of the students are writhing underwater like eels, battling each other for the bags.
