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Pippa and I both turn toward our respective teams, our eyes sweeping the eager and nervous faces before us.
I’m torn, because my natural inclination is to pick the fastest, strongest, and most physically-gifted individuals. But what if the challenge is to build a pipe bomb or decode an encryption? Then I’d want someone with more technical skills.
“Make your selections,” Professor Howell prompts us.
“Liam, Sam, Johnny, Sven, Mikhail, and Marcelline,” Pippa rattles off without hesitation.
“Excellent. And you, Leo?” Professor Howell says.
“Ares, Hedeon, and Anna . . .” I say. Those three are easy. But for the other three . . . without knowing the challenge, I think I should pick one student from each specialty: an Enforcer, a Spy, and an Accountant. “Silas. Isabel. And I guess . . . Matteo.”
Matteo looks shocked at being chosen, and not particularly happy about it. I hope I’m not making a huge mistake.
By contrast, Dean’s face instantly darkens when he sees that he’s been snubbed. He’s right to be pissed, in the sense that his practical and academic performance certainly warrants inclusion. But if he thinks I’m going to trust him to carry us to victory in the final challenge, he’s out of his fucking mind. The fact that he won’t be part of this at all is the best news I’ve heard so far.
I’m only moderately confident in my last three choices. I picked Silas because if there’s a challenge that requires pure, rawstrength, I don’t think anyone can beat him. On the other hand, he’s vicious and not particularly strategic. Picking him could easily blow up in my face.
Isabel Dixon has some of the highest marks out of all the Spies, and I know she’s good with her hands, too, particularly in assembling bombs, guns, and machinery.
Matteo is brilliant with numbers, codes, and research. But he’s clumsy and physically weak. If he ends up in some sort of combat challenge, we’re fucked.
“The rest of you can return to the castle,” Professor Howell says, dismissing the students who weren’t selected. They head off, some clearly irritated at not being chosen, and others laughing and talking excitedly now that they’re free to simply enjoy the outcome without any pressure of performing.
Only once we’re alone—the seven Freshmen, seven Seniors, and Professor Howell himself—does he rub his hands together in anticipation and say, “Excellent. Now, this is what we’ll be doing: this challenge is split into seven parts. Each teammate will have one task to complete. At the end of the task, you’ll receive a puzzle piece. Assemble all your pieces, solve the puzzle, and you’ll know where to find the final prize.”
“So it’s a scavenger hunt,” Pippa says.
“Essentially.” Professor Howell smiles in a way that makes me think it won’t be quite that simple.
He kneels down to unlatch the wooden box, taking out a stack of hand-drawn and hand-lettered maps. He hands seven to Pippa, and seven to me.
“These are the maps noting the location of the challenges. Give one to each of your teammates, and then we will begin the race. You have five minutes to divide your maps.”
He starts his stopwatch, and my team gathers around me to examine the maps.
“That’s the library…” Matteo points to the first map.
“Yes, obviously.” Hedeon rolls his eyes.
“That’s the shooting range, so that will probably be a marksmanship challenge . . .” I look at the second map.
“This one’s in the Armory. Bet it’s combat,” Isabel says.
“This one here looks like the river bottom,” I say. “What kind of challenge could that be?”
Ares shrugs, mystified.
“And that one’s down in the village . . .” Hedeon frowns.
It’s hard to know how to divide the maps without actually knowing what the corresponding challenges will be. I can hear the seconds ticking away on Professor Howell’s stopwatch.
“Matteo, you can have the library.” I thrust the map into his hand, hoping there’s not some kind of trick involved, like the library challenge is actually a feat of strength. “Hedeon, you take the shooting range, Isabel, go to the river bottom, and Silas, you take the Armory.”
Silas grunts, his face as stony and expressionless as ever.
“Ares, you go down to the village,” I say, thinking that it might possibly be something to do with sailing. Ares is the only one I know for sure can pilot a boat.
“What are these last two?” Isabel asks.
