Following Cornelia’s bright blue tail feathers, they ran as fast as they could for the heat-shivering horizon.
Jaide put her head in her hands and groaned. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“Please, let it end soon,” begged Stefano beside her, a perfect reflection of her own despair. “If this is what it takes to become a Warden, I don’t want to be one!”
“One more minute,” said Alfred the Examiner, with relentless patience. Jaide had learned the hard way that this didn’t mean “one more minute to go.” Instead, it meant that the ornate minute hand on the antique clock sitting between them was put back one mark, so their day became a whole sixty seconds longer.
“Be quiet!” she hissed across the table to Stefano. “You’re not helping.”
He moaned and returned to his task. They were in the restored blue room, sitting at the mahogany desk. Between them, open wide, were two complete Compendiums — special Examination editions, they had been told, containing certain errors and omissions designed to trip up incautious readers. The task for each of them was to follow a trail of accounts back through history in order to identify the first time The Evil had attempted a particular tactic, and then write an essay detailing what had worked then and what had not worked, and how that past practice could be adapted to the present day if The Evil tried that tactic again. Every step had to be recorded. Every conclusion had to be explained — all written by hand, using ancient pens that required them to dip nibs into a bottomless inkwell.
The third Examination was homework. And none of it was multiple choice.
Jaide put her head down and forced herself to press on. She didn’t know how long she and Stefano had been at it, but her stomach was gurgling as bad as Jack’s did, and her hand was sore from writing so much. Who cared what had happened in Newtown 1664, when The Evil had impersonated a local money merchant and seeded the community with some kind of Evil fungus that looked like tarnished silver coins? How was that ever likely to happen again, in these days of online banking and ATM cards? It was all pointless and confusing. The history of the Wardens was so deep and complicated that it was hard to tell what was real and what was a lie. If this is what life as a full Warden consisted of, as Stefano said, she could do without it. She longed for the day to end so she could concentrate on Project Thunderclap, rescuing Jack and the others, and fighting The Evil for real.
She wanted to ask how much time was left, but she didn’t dare. Alfred the Examiner was sitting at the far end of the table, wearing reading glasses and slowly turning the pages of a very large, very old book, which appeared to be completely blank. The slightest hint of rebellion cost both her and Stefano another minute. They were lumped in together, but couldn’t help each other. It wasn’t fair.
Yes, yes, just like life, Jaide wanted to say. The lesson was so obvious. She was beginning to wish she had gone with her mother to Scarborough instead of staying in Portland for the Examination. Susan had held her twice as tightly and twice as long as normal before leaving that morning, and made her promise to call the second they learned anything about Jack, no matter what that news might be.
Finally, after what felt like a week crammed into one very long day, Alfred closed the book, stood up, and removed the clock from the table.
Stefano glanced up, blinking like someone waking from a very deep sleep. Jaide hoped he hadn’t actually been asleep. If he had been, and she failed because of him, she would wring his neck.
“Is that it?” he asked. “Are we done?”
“Let me see your work.” Alfred held out his hands. Jaide gathered up her pages in ink-stained fingers and nervously handed them over. She couldn’t believe the Examination was over. Part of her had expected to be trapped in it forever.
Her back made popping noises as she stretched. When she went to get up to unkink her knees, Alfred raised one long index finger and, without looking up from their notes, both of which he seemed to be reading simultaneously, said firmly, “Not yet.”
Jaide lowered herself back into her seat and exchanged a worried glance with Stefano. What if their work wasn’t good enough? Would they have to keep going, perhaps even start all over again? That thought was almost too horrible. She imagined The Evil bursting into the blue room on a tide of glowing, hideous leeches and carrying the Examiner away. Part of her would have been relieved.
“Your handwriting is appalling,” Alfred said. “I don’t know what you’re taught in school these days. Also, you have made several mistakes in your research. Stefano, you should have noted that the black sweat of Pippinedda the Sicilian was a natural exudation. Jaide, a chiliarch is not an ancient refrigerator. On the whole, however, I find your work acceptable. You have passed the third Examination.”
Jaide just stared at him, not entirely believing it.
“But,” she said, “we made mistakes….”
“Everyone does, Jaide,” Alfred said in a kinder voice. “No one is perfect. Not me, not your father, not the Compendium, not the Grand Gathering. We all fail sometimes. We all make mistakes, yet you’ll notice we are all still here. It’s never the end of the world.”
“But one day it might be,” said Stefano. “The end of the world, I mean. If someone makes a big enough mistake.”
“That’s why we have the Warden of Last Resort. If called upon, they alone are required not to be in error.”
Jaide’s ears pricked up.
“I’ve heard of that,” she said. “The Warden of Last Resort. That’s Grandma, isn’t it?”
Alfred’s expression didn’t change.
“One day, if you exercise sufficient will,” he said, “you will know the truth.”
He raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. Something eased in the air, a tension Jaide hadn’t been aware of until it was gone. The secret panel leading to the rest of the house opened. It looked starkly functional now, without the tapestry that had once concealed it from view, but its opening seemed wonderful enough as it was. As did the two feline faces that pushed through and ran down to join her.
“It’s over?” meowed Ari, tail twitching. He trod a wide arc around the Examiner to rub his left side against Jaide’s elbow. “It’s done?”
“Of course it is. Otherwise, why would the door be open?” said Kleo. She gave Jaide a lick on the hand, then stuck her tongue out. Ink had turned the tip of it black.
“We passed,” said Stefano, and this time Jaide didn’t hear boastfulness in his declaration, just relief.
“Poor Jack,” she said.
“He will be Examined upon his return,” Alfred said, packing up their copies of the Compendium and slipping them into a broad leather case.
“If he returns.”
“Don’t think that way,” Kleo told her. “You have to stay positive. He’ll know if you give up hope. Twins are always connected, deep down.”
Jaide wasn’t so sure. She had tried teeping again, but nothing was getting through. It was hard not to wonder if he was dead. That was the one good thing about the Examination: It had kept her mind off what might be going wrong elsewhere.
&
nbsp; “There’s a feast waiting for you upstairs,” said Ari excitedly. “A feast of celebration.”
“What if we’d failed?” asked Stefano.
“Then it would have been a feast of consolation. Come on.” He scampered down from the table and ran halfway up the stairs to the secret panel, where he stopped and turned to look at them, wondering why they weren’t following.
Jaide had started to ask Alfred if he was joining them, but once again the Examiner had disappeared. Resolving never to fall for that again, she followed Stefano and the cats out of the blue room and down to the kitchen.
* * *
She had hoped her father might be there, but he had gone away, Grandma X told her, to avoid any complications caused by their Gifts. That made sense, she supposed. The day had been hard enough without having to deal with that possibility. She felt exhausted now, so exhausted she almost wasn’t hungry. Only with effort did she force down a plateful of stew she would normally have found delicious, Jaide’s favorite, particularly when Grandma X cooked it, followed by ice cream with strawberry sprinkles. Stefano dived in with gusto, while Ari watched in awe. There was very little conversation.
“That so-called teacher of yours called,” said Grandma X at one point during the meal. “He wanted to know why you two missed soccer practice. I told him you had more important things to do, but would attend tomorrow.”
“Isn’t Project Thunderclap tomorrow?” asked Jaide.
“It is. And if it’s successful, practice will go ahead the day after.”
“And if it’s not?” asked Stefano around a huge mouthful.
“Then I suppose very little will change, and practice will also go ahead. Either way, your teacher seemed reassured, despite losing two of his best players.”
“And Kyle, too,” said Jaide. “How’s the story holding up?”
Grandma X had visited both Kyle and Tara’s families to explain that their children were staying over for a couple of nights and that there was no need for concern. She brought friendly gifts of chocolate cake to both households, which she had assured Jaide would leave them not forgetful, exactly, but not overly mindful of the deviation from their usual routine. By such means did Wardens move through the complex terrain of everyday life without raising suspicion. One day it would be Jaide’s turn to bake cakes like that, or to choose another means of drawing attention away from herself.