For the hundredth time, I pace the distance between my bunk and the edge of the commons.
Serpent Barracks drew the last lot, meaning we are to have the least amount of turnaround between the two rounds of the tournament. Normally that would be a significant disadvantage. Under our new strategy, drawing last lot means an increased element of surprise. With no clue as to what the controller of the combat chamber might throw our way during the final round, we will need every advantage we can get.
Due to the cancelation of afternoon classes, we’ve been instructed to wait in the barracks until our turn in the chamber. On the down side, drawing last lot means we have been cooped up for over two hours. Depending on how quickly the other four barracks finish the first round, our wait could be an hour longer.
I’m too tired to jog the track around the perimeter of the common room and too distracted to join the toggle contest initiated by Serpent 3. Besides, toggle makes me think of Zorrah. I smile as I picture her defending her undefeated streak in the game that combines strategy and chance.
Playing toggle against Zorrah is genuinely infuriating. Many of her victories come completely without explanation. Often she juggles strategies in midstream or simply throws strategy out the window. Still, she wins every time.
A scuffle breaks out amidst the scattering of toggle stones. I ignore it. There’s been at least three dustups since lunch. Anxiety levels are bursting at the seams. Every cadet deals with the tension differently. One thing Neca and Yetic have taught me, as annoying as they are, is that some people simply love to fight.
I, on the other hand, wish I could sleep. But even if the entire barracks were blacked out and perfectly quiet, sleep would be out of the question. Instead I close my eyes and hail Olin. How are you coping?
There is a long pause before he responds. Fine, all things considered. I miss her already.
Me too. I block out the noises and people around me in effort to envision where in the barracks my brother is.
You really think she’s okay?
Yes. Neca’s right. She’s too strong not to overcome this. I locate Olin in a back corner of the study.
What about the rest of us? Are we going to overcome this?
I don’t know. I try to swallow, but a sudden knot of panic rises in my throat.
What? What is it?
There’s little I can hide from Olin, at least not for long. There’s something else, something from last night I didn’t share.
Olin’s panic level rises. About Zorrah?
No, not directly. It’s about the academy.
I wondered where that speech had come from this morning.
I chuckle out loud, then open my eyes to make sure no one is watching. Everyone seems engaged in their own private means of coping with the tension, so I close my eyes again. You know me too well.
It’s hard not to.
We both go quiet until our silent presence becomes awkward.
Then we’ll talk later? Olin asks.
Tonight after lights out.
Good. I’ve been wanting to follow up about the mystery voice, you know, since your freak out last night.
It wasn’t a freak out. But you’re right, it’ll be good to talk. Maybe you can help me figure some things out.
Maybe? When have I let you down?
I smile. Never.
A barrack-wide chime interrupts our mental conversation and announces that it’s time. We’ve been hailed to the combat chamber.
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