I did not wait to see how the others reacted to my foolishness, and deep down, I didn’t want to. Running at the group piling on top of the boy, I thrust both my hands toward the creatures, and with my hands came a gust of wind powerful enough to destroy the ash creatures. I couldn’t remove all of them from the boy, but I dusted enough to reach down and grab him by the arms.

  Because the men came from ash, I had no trouble pulling him away from those still on top. The fluttering in his eyes made me doubt whether he knew what was happening.

  “Just hold on,” I told him, pulling him up and over my shoulders, earning a weak groan from the Spaniard.

  Now comes the hard part, I told myself.

  In the few seconds it took me to retrieve the boy, the ash men I destroyed had replaced themselves, and the ones who survived my spell closed in. I felt the dozens of invisible eyes stare at me, drilling home the idea that they had me surrounded. No longer could I count on Henry’s shield or George’s claymore. No longer could I fight with the knowledge I had others to help cover my weaknesses. I was on my own with no exit in sight.

  “Guess I’ll have to make one,” I muttered to myself.

  Stomping my feet into the ground, a wall of ice materialized from my foot where I willed it forward toward the white line. I felt satisfaction at the ease with which it pushed the creatures down, dispersing some of them in the process. Knowing I had seconds to capitalize on the opening, I surged forward, taking off at whatever speed my legs would allow.

  I took four steps before I ran into a problem, a problem as fingers wrapping around my ankle and tripping me.

  A second groan escaped the boy’s lips as he tumbled off my shoulders, but whatever pity I had for dropping him dissolved when other hands started crawling up my leg, dragging me further away from my destination. I did not bother to see how many tried to grab a hold of me when I flung a ball of fire behind me nor did I glance down to see the effects of my spell. All that mattered to me was that it freed me, and I scrambled to my feet to retry my escape.

  Once more I ran into problems as an unseen force struck me in the head, knocking me back to the ground. The blow dazed me for a minute, and not just because of the impact. Until then, the creatures never attacked us, or rather, never got the chance to. Our group always disposed of them before they became a problem, so to receive a hit from one shocked me.

  That shock gave whoever struck me the time to kick me in the ribs, and although my armor protected me, the attack made me jump. Out of instinct a pillar of ice shot up to impale whoever landed the kick, and while I found satisfaction in his dust raining down onto me, it did not take long for him to have a replacement.

  One attacker turned to two, then three, and before I knew it, dozens beat down on me. Due to the nature of being made of ash, magically infused or otherwise, the blows had little power behind them, yet they had enough to keep me down.

  I tried what I could to fend them off, but my diminished Aura limited my options.

  This is it, I told myself as dread washed over me. Not even my first day and I’m going to be kicked out.

  Try as I did, I struggled to imagine how my father would respond to the news. If I saved the Spaniard, I imagined he could have held some pride in the fact I sacrificed myself, but with the boy laying a few feet away, no such cushion protected me from his inevitable disappointment.

  Swallowing disappointment of my own, I braced my head for a blow I saw from the corner of my eye, already numb to most of the beating I received.

  Yet the impact never came. Instead, I heard a wild shout that made me question whether it came from a human.

  “I was not making an offer!” I heard a familiar girl shout.

  Looking over my shoulder, my eyes widened when I saw Shimazu standing above me with the strange blade she kept on her back drawn. Further forward I watched as Henry scooped up the boy as if he weighed no more than a bag of flour while George swung his claymore wide to make way for him.

  “You didn’t go to the camp?” I asked.

  “And how could we do that after witnessing this display of fine bravery?” George replied, his tone laced with enough sarcasm for the three of them.

  I hung my head to hide my reddening cheeks, but Shimazu forced me to stop when she reached down and grabbed my arm.

  “Do not make us regret coming back for you,” she whispered, pushing me behind her to give me a head start.

  Although the white line lay a stone's throw away from us, it felt miles away when I watched the ash men switch their shuffling pace out for a full-blown sprint. Having faceless men in the gray fields alone was a nightmare waiting to happen, but having them run made it come to life.

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  All plans of holding them off disappeared within seconds of them adapting the new pace, and not one of us hesitated a second time to throw ourselves into our perceived safety. Only after I passed the line did I question whether or not the line meant what we thought it meant, a thought driven home by the ash men refusing to slow down after we crossed.

  As they got closer, I noticed a glowing orange light in their chest, growing with each step they took. The moment their feet stepped onto the line, the light spread to their limbs, causing them to implode into their ashy remains. Not one could make it over two steps over the white line before suffering the universal fate.

  “Praise be to Harok,” Henry muttered once he saw the creature’s fate as he collapsed to the ground, dropping the boy in the process to make room for him to flop over.

  Following his lead, both George and Shimazu dropped their guard and allowed their exhaustion to show, with the Brit leaning on his claymore and the girl falling to her knees.

  While I tried to stay on my feet, my legs didn’t want to cooperate and gave out beneath me. I didn’t have an issue with their insubordination, and I welcomed the break forced upon me.

  The break allowed me to take in my surroundings, and a quick sweep of the fields before me showed other groups in similar conditions as us. A look behind us revealed we were the last.

  For a moment, I considered helping them with magic behind the safety of the camp, but abandoned the idea as I explored the possibilities. While I had far more Aura left than I had back in Arindoth, I wasn’t keen on pushing myself much further. I doubted Brontul would give us a break, and I wanted a reserve of energy to tackle whatever came next.

  They’re doing fine on their own, I decided, joining Henry on the ground as I flopped over.

  —

  I spent the following two hours in misery. Hot, humid air sapped the life out of me, and while I could feel my energy returning, it did not feel like it. I made the mistake of trying to find comfort in my ice, and while it worked in the beginning, my clothes started chafing when it melted. Not wanting to spend the mana drying myself and replacing the ice, I resigned myself to suffering.

  To distract myself, I watched the other groups cross the white line out of the corner of my eye. I felt a morbid sense of amusement as I watched them limp across. Unlike my group, they wore the remains of the creatures from head to toe. The holes in their clothes told another story, and I imagine the ash had worked its way into them, rubbing them red.

  Compared to them, we got off easy.

  To my dismay, I counted forty-four children before the time limit ended, and I could see the stragglers far off in the distance where the trial started. I found some comfort in the fact all fourteen who failed were individuals and not groups. The blame lay solely with them, not because of inadequate teamwork dragging everyone down. Despite this line of thinking, it still broke my heart when I watched the clouds descend to grab them, robbing them of the chance to see the finish line.

  Once the clouds returned to their rightful place, a long gong-like bell rang out from the pillar, deafening me as it echoed through the field. In tune with the ringing, Brontul’s metallic body swirled into reality above us.

  The metal man stood above us for a few seconds in silence as he surveyed who succeeded.

  “Congratulations. More of you made it than expected,” Brontul declared, his voice muffled by the ringing in my ear.

  He paused as if waiting for a response from someone, but when he got none, he lowered himself to the masses. Without being told, I peeled myself off the grass to join the growing crowd forming around him. On my way, I reached down to the resting Spaniard and shook his shoulder.

  Jumping in response to my touch, the boy whipped his head around to take in his surroundings. The unmistakable expression of confusion filled his face, presumably from the lack of ash men surrounding him.

  I waited a few seconds to allow him to realize he was safe, and once he turned his attention to me, I gestured my head to Brontul. The effects of Aura drain became clear as he failed to find his footing. To help him up, I pushed past the awkwardness I felt about our opposite sexes and offered him my shoulder. He did not hesitate to take it, and we hobbled to our destination together.

  “Mateo Delgado de Catalonia,” he whispered as he walked.

  “Guinevere Medvedeva of Russia,” I replied, recognizing the last word he spoke as a place.

  Nodding, we both turned our attention to Brontul, who raised all four of his hands to quiet the murmuring children.

  “Now that those who can’t make it from point A to point B are gone, we shall move onto your next trial. You may be pleased to know that for this one, failure will not result in expulsion,” he began.

  “And what’s that, climb up the pillar?” George grumbled.

  In a different scenario, his words may have provoked laughter from the group. However, after everything we went through, his suggestion wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Instead of laughter, he earned glares for suggesting such a thing.

  “While the attempt at humor is appreciated, let me answer your question with another. What is needed to create a camp?” Brontul asked.

  “Tents, cooking utensils, flint for fire, bed rolls—those kinds of things,” the Brit answered.

  “Do you see any of those things around?”

  “No, why?” George asked.

  “How can there be a camp if there are no supplies?” Brontul pushed.

  As he tried to come up with an answer, the metal man turned around and raised his four hands at the ground. For a moment, I feared more of the creatures that haunted us would come back, but when square patches of grass dug themselves up, I saw what he was getting at.

  “When you are out in the New World, you will not be able to enjoy the same comforts you enjoy in Europe. You will spend most of your time in the wild. I think you can piece it together from there.”