"Guerrilla," Master Atlas says, when night has fallen again. "Basic hunting skills involve knowing and using the terrain around you. And yes, I'm aware that some of you have Nocterem memorized."
The torchlight seems to flicker towards the O'Byrne siblings.
"But. Warfare is different than hunting. You must think of the land in a whole new way, and be able to see it as a map in your mind. It becomes your tool, or your downfall. Today's goal is for you to understand how small events develope a large picture. To do this, you will start learning how to put which people where."
"Say that three times fast," Felix whispers.
"Young one!" Master Atlas snaps.
"Aye, Master?"
"You are in charge of one team. The Hunter will guide the other."
Anvil elbows his sister, who nods solemnly at Master Atlas while using her other hand to twist Anvil's pinky finger backwards. He slaps her arm and she lets go. I watch the silent exchange, fascinated. Do all siblings torture each other so nonchalantly?
"Choose your consorts," our teacher intones.
Frick. I move closer to Echo and Roman the Wolf, forming a line. It's exactly like being picked for dodgeball in Rimwick. No one ever chooses me.
Felix studies us. I cross my fingers behind my back. Maybe he'll-
"Roman."
Dang it.
"Echo." Fallon's return is smooth and easy, but her eyes flick nervously to the side. Her skin is tinged slightly blue, reflecting the glow of the moon overhead. I'm guessing that Master Atlas choose her as a team captain because she's one of the oldest here, or because she knows the hills. Maybe she's not a good leader.
Or maybe she is, and I'm just trying to make up for the fact that I'm going to be picked last. Again.
"Brooke," Felix says. Several heads turn toward him, surprised. I'd assumed he'd choose Anvil.
Brooke's corkscrew curls bob behind her vapor shoulders as she floats towards Felix and Roman. I know what happens now. Fallon chooses Anvil, and Felix gets stuck with me. Or, since I'm the odd one out, I'll have to stay with Master Atlas. Maybe he'll leave me in the clearing, or maybe he'll tell me I'm worthless and send me home. Maybe he'll drag me back to Rimwick and drop me off at the front steps of the school with a note pinned to my shirt that says "useless". Maybe my mom will look at me, disappointment etched across her face and say-
"Fey."
What? I glance up at Fallon. She choose me over her brother? When I was stupid enough to help Roman get eight ribbons during Color Hunt? I walk towards her, dazed. Echo smiles at me. I wasn't picked last! For the first time in, like, forever I-
"Last pick," Brooke hisses across the clearing, a giggle straining her voice.
Okay, what? First of all, what is up with all these people interrupting me mid-thought? And second of all, I wasn't picked last! Anvil was!
I look at him. The red haired boy meets my eyes for a second, then drops his gaze down, studying the powdered-sugar snow lining the clearing.
"Your goal is to hit each member of the opposing team with a snow ball before morning. Once you are hit, go to the hot springs. No cheating. I will know if you do. The game begins..." Master Atlas glances at the sky. "When the next star falls. Go."
I'm sort of dazed, so I don't realize that I'm supposed to start running until Anvil touches my arm and I realize everyone else already has.
"What... are you... doing?" I pant to Anvil.
YOU ARE READING
Rimwick
Fantasy"The night is totally black, now, except for the guardian light of the street lamps. No one is out besides me. I fold my arms, missing my army jacket's warmth, and head home quickly. It's dangerous to be out at night. But I don't run. If you run in...