The one who brushed me aside, their ringleader I suppose, says nothing.
“Come on,” he whispers, stepping to the side the wave the others on through the next door. “We’re going to miss it.”
I step back up.
“Miss what?”
The tallest of the three, a boy with shoulders like massive knotted tree roots, is the only one to pause and look back. I suppose it’ll only take him a couple extra strides to catch up to the others.
“To the second trial,” he says, before darting out after the other two with surprising speed.
“The second …”
And then it hits me.
I’m not early. I’m late.
I have no time to stand stupidly, wondering. I take off after them, heart pounding. The second one? I’ve missed the first test and possibly my chance to get into Saint M.
I didn’t come all the way here to not get in.
My brain kicks into gear as I run. The first part of the test is a written exam and I probably wasn’t going to do great on it anyway. I studied, of course, but there was no way to know for sure if any of the information I was able to get ahold of was even accurate in any sense of the word. If I score well on the next three trials, I might still have a chance. But I have to get there first.
I follow the mysterious boys out a side door and spot them disappearing down a trail leading to the woods. My thoughts should be elsewhere, but my eyes keep lingering on their muscled calves and broad shoulders. The big one’s shoulders look like might bust out of his shirt at any moment. I only caught a glimpse of their faces as they ran past me; nowhere near enough to get a good look.
Get a grip, I tell myself. I need to focus.
I’ve already missed one trial. I can’t afford to miss another.
I know what’s coming next, even before I see it flashing between the trees up ahead. The obstacle course.
I can still see the boys jogging along before me, sticking to the path on their way to the next test. I’ll have plenty of time to ogle the big one’s muscles once I’ve dominated that course. Something inside tells me I have to get there first.
There’s a break in the trees to the side of the winding path, and without thinking, I duck down it. I throw my backpack to the side, taking note of the trees and rocks around it so I can circle back for it later, and dig my heels into the dirt. I was always a fast runner, and something about the pressing pattern of trees makes me run even faster.
It’s a straight shot through the brush and overhanging branches. They catch at my skin and clothes, leaving me bloodstained and bruised when I burst out into those gathered at the edge of the clearing.
It’s a small crowd; a collection of students and teachers watching the new recruits file up to start the first physical challenge. Those closest to me start and glance back at my arrival, but I don’t have time to explain.
A few of them cry out as I push past them to where a man stands apart from the others at the start of the course. He has to be in charge. He’s sweating in his business suit and adjusting the Saint M pin on his lapel when he catches sight of me barreling toward him.
There is a large electronic board hanging above the start of the course displaying the students’ scores from the first test. As I watch, a new recruit’s score flashes up further on the list as they complete the second test. One glance at the board confirms my worst fear—I’m nowhere on it.
I shove my way past the recruit set to go next and plant myself in front of the test administrator. I’m breathing so hard, my words come out broken and incoherent at first.
“I need to be added to the list,” I say, pointing up at the board. My chest heaves.
The girl behind me opens her mouth to complain, but I shoot her a murderous look and she quickly clamps her mouth shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see some large, burly men starting to step up from the edges of the crowd. The boys are just now arriving at the head of the path. I see them stop and glance my way, clearly confused how I got here first.
The test administrator snorts. “Do you think a werewolf is going to give you a second chance if you’re late to the hunt? There’s no such thing as a second chance when monsters are involved, Miss …?”
“Black. Avery Black.”
Recognition flickers across his face, and he suddenly glances back down at the chart in his hands. His mouth works silently for a moment, as if he’s choking on his own words.
The burly figures are getting closer. The girl behind me isn’t the only person growing restless. If I wait for this man to make up his mind, it’s going to be too late.
I’ve come too far to just be turned away without a chance. The first security officer reaches us and starts to move between me and the course, one arm outstretched to bar my way.