Children of the Stars

Chapter Thirteen

    The six of us hurried back upstairs among small groups of Sagittarius juniors and found Jason with Kai and Sky beside the door, each dressed in a red sweater, holding more of them. When he saw us gathered around the door, he motioned us over.

"Before you go tonight you have to put on these," he explained, handing some shirts to Isobel and Ember to pass around to everyone else. When the stack got to me, I hesitated as I examined the red hoodie and my own red long-sleeved shirt. "Amythest, you don't necessarily need one because your shirt is already red, but if you'd like, it's advisable that you wear layers." I hesitated no longer than a moment and threw a sweater on just for the sake of representing my Element even better. Jason nodded his approval. "Good. Now listen to me carefully.

"When you play this game, you will need to be brave. It's a game of wits and courage and reflexes, and if one of the other Houses not on your team catches you, you will be held hostage until one of us can rescue you."

"What exactly is this tournament?" Kitch asked with narrowed eyes, examining her shirt with suspicion.

"I can't tell you. This game is meant to surprise you so you don't have time to formulate a plan. Only the Heads know what it is. But go on, it's time for us to start! And please, don't get caught."

In a kind of daze, we hurried out into the hall, following the students ahead of us like it was the night of the party. The excitement in the air this time was laced with anticipation. When we reached the staircase, however, students of both Air and Fire—the Houses with dorms on this side of the school—were headed downstairs towards the dining hall. I exchanged a glance with my friends before we mutually shrugged and followed the crowd. Before long, I was standing shoulder to shoulder with Kitch and Skylark as we made our way outside into the night. In a matter of minutes, I was glad I had chosen the red hoodie. Although it had been pleasantly warm earlier on, the night air void of any sun was already bitingly cold, and our breaths were clouds of vapour in the silvery light of the full moon. A few students pulled out cellphones or flashlights and illuminated the ground, but I had a gut feeling that whatever game we were going to be playing, it was going to be in the dark. I refused to look towards any light but the moon's and instead tilted my head up to observe the beautiful glittering stars far above my head.

My breath caught at the extraordinary beauty of the heavens. The sky, normally so inky in color in the city, was alight in a variety of shades of blue and silver, rippling and swirling with the unearth light of the moon. It was these kinds of skies, these almost living seeming realities so far away from my own home, that made the earliest of men believe in the gods, and with a night sky so beautiful like that, how could they not?

I could've stopped and stared at the sky for ages had Kitch not chuckled and pushed me along, rolling her eyes in amusement. She placed a firm hand on my back as we dipped under the trees. I blinked a couple of times to adjust to the almost pitch black under the canopy. We were making our way in hushed conversation deeper into the woods, following a trail that led along a riverbed. I didn't know who was leading us, but I only hoped they knew the way. The trail dipped down and grew narrow gradually until we came to an abrupt drop, where we still continued, following an almost invisible game trail down a rockfall towards the bottom of a massive ravine. Once we slipped and slid our way down—with many muffled curses and rude gestures made at nature—the path widened slightly. We were guided along the uneven ground of the ravine, now following a small stream that trickled down the rockfall and carved its own path through the ground. We had to hop it in places where the trail disappeared on our side, only to continue on the other.

After about an hour of trekking through dense underbrush, with loud complaints coming from both in front and behind us, the bushes suddenly gave way to a small clearing. The open space—washed pale in the moonlight—consisted of the small stream pooling into a small pond at the base of a gnarled willow tree, and a small knoll which flanked the tree from the other side. And on the knoll stood a dark haired boy and the twins Taylor and Xeren.