Chapter Twenty-Two

Read it! Please.

“Listen up, you little snots!” shouted the trial manager.

I rolled my eyes to the guy next to me. She looked to be my age and was very pretty- the kind of naturally pretty that can make even the most self-assured of girls stay up all night, poking and prodding at their face, trying to find out how the hell she has cheeks and lips that are the PERFECT shade.

Anyways, she snickered at my expression. “There are middle-aged adults here, being called little snots,” she whispered. “Something we can get a little bit of joy from, at least.” Her platinum blonde hair swished across her shoulders as she turned her head towards me slightly. Was she crazy? Eye-rolling was hard to prove, but I was sure that half of the room had heard her. I discreetly elbowed her, then slightly jerked my head to the very loud, drill-sergeant-like trial manager. Her cheeks reddened, and she adjusted her head to face straight ahead.

I noticed a small tattoo right behind her ear as she did so. It looked like a gold dragon that was twisting in the air. It couldn’t have been more than a few square centimeters large, but it was shiny enough to catch my attention. I noted that I needed to ask her about it later, then shifted my attention to the trial manager.

“Welcome to your first trial, trialees. You’re lucky that you even made it here, given some of your ages and experience in the needed fields.” He looked at me for a nanosecond, and I returned his furiously disdainful sneer with an expression of practiced, cool, dangerous, steel. He took this as an invitation for something; I don’t really know what, exactly, but something.

He stood so close to me that our noses would have been an inch apart, had I not come up to his chest. “Got something to say, trialee?” He spat out the last word contemptuously, obviously trying to get my fired up so that he could make an example out of me.

“Did I say anything?” I asked coolly.

“Got. Something. To. Say, Trialee?”

I resisted the urge to laugh in his face. Felicity had set this guy on me, hadn’t he? Well, she would have to try harder than this. “I’m wondering what you’re doing. I haven’t done or said anything outside of this conversation, so I’m a little confused. As far as I can tell, before I started talking back to you, I hadn’t done anything that would aggravate any normal human being.” I inhaled quickly, then shut my mouth and awaited the Trial-Manager’s reaction.

The Manager’s face may have been impassive, but the faces of those around me were exceedingly easy to read. Most, if not all, of them, didn’t even conceal their ogling gazes from the Manager, more than shocked at how what was surely meant to be a superior showing a subordinate that they were dominant. Surely I’d get hammered into the ground, right?

After a few overly uncomfortable moments of staring at each other, waiting for one of us to back down, I decided to break the ice. Sure, it may mean that he would break my neck, but why not? I had nothing to lose, and I had a sneaking suspicion that this may be more than Felicity’s doing… “Sir, if you could answer my question, I’d really appreciate it. That way, I can avoid pissing you off in the future.”

My tattooed companion beside me raised her eyebrows at my mild language. Sure, I was pushing him, but I really wanted an answer out of the dastard. Really, who would harass their underlings just because they could? (No, I’m not being a hypocrite- I was asking a genuine question after being provoked. Just saying.)

His lip quivered, presumably from anger. “Try. Me.”

Anger it was, then. Well, fighting fire with fire could go to hell; I’d stay as cool as a cucumber. “Sir, I’m asking a valid question that, if answered truthfully, would help my fellow Trialees and I stay out of trouble without brown-nosing. I’m not trying to ‘try you’; all I want is a straightforward answer, and you’ll find me to be insistent as bloody hell.” I puffed my chest out, ready for his answer. Fight fire with cool-cucumber-y-ness.

It’s a word now, m-f''ers.

“You’ll be bloody after I’m done with you,” he growled.

“And do it in front of twenty-four clear-minded witnesses? Good luck with that.”

His jaw tightened in frustration.

“What are you going to do,” I continued, “threaten them with death? Watching over twenty-five independent people by yourself doesn’t seem easy. You’d have to get more involved, at least ten or fifteen. Not counting you, that’s, minimum, thirty-five people. Seems like a whole lot of risk just show up one kid, given the consequences that have to come with harming the being that may or may not fill the chair of Maeve. Do the math, blockhead.”

And then

AND THEN…

AND THEN

He just kinda giggles.

For the next few seconds, I consider joining in but decide to hold tight and wait for this joker to either confirm or deny my suspicions.

“Zeke said you were scary as hell,” he muttered, a previously unheard Australian accent coming through very clearly.

“Why would you say that about my boyfriend?” asked the girl with the (golden) dragon tattoo. It hit me in the gut, but I tried to not show it. After all, I was interested in girls, too. Also, I wanted to be friends with this chick, not fight over a guy. Not exactly my style.

“And why would you slip and mention him here?” I added, not wanting to lose control of the situation too quickly.

“Because this is a trial, Trialee, and you just won.” He straightened, and continued to speak in his odd accent. “She just won, everybody, and Melinda here came in second.”

“Knew it,” I muttered, my cheeks glowing red. This had to be the worst way to start the trials- now, I may as well have been a bulls-eye for the other competitors.

Oblivious to my mortification, he extended his point. “This was your first trial, and, many would consider incorrectly, your easiest trial. As the next Maeve, you will need to be stronger than diamond, and as opaque as Vantablack. It absorbs over 99% of light. You need to be firm, but not overly pushy. Report to the training field for training.”

Author's Note

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