The Black Stars (7 page)

Mason liked Po already; he wondered if they'd just made a solid friend, an ally. They would definitely need one.

“Master Zin seems nice,” Mason said, hoping to keep Po talking.

But all Po said was, “Yeah. He is. But make sure Master Zin visits
you.
You don't ever want to visit
him.
”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Po replied. “And one more thing—I'm assuming you're both considered pretty skilled back where you come from, but this place is different. There are fourteen million applicants from schools across the country each year.” He smiled slyly. “About a hundred new students get accepted. I hope you brought your brains
and
your muscles.”

Mason smiled. “If we were missing our brains or muscles we would certainly be dead.”

Tom elbowed Mason. “Thanks for the warning,” he said sincerely.

They walked down another hallway, this one made of warm wood, like a hollowed out tree trunk. It ended at a wide spiral staircase that went straight up. It too was made of warm wood; Mason thought he could feel heat through the soles of his boots. “I thought we have to choose something first?” Mason said. “How can you know where we're going to sleep?”

When Po spoke, it was like he was reciting something from a rule book. “In an effort to better integrate the two factions of Rhadgast, students will share sleeping quarters with students of an opposing faction.” He made a snorting sound, like that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “
Better integrate,
yeah right. It'll never happen.”

“Why did you split in the first place?” Mason said.

The wooden hallway now had doors set into the curving wall. “That's a story for another time. I'm sure you'll learn about it in Lore class. Not
that
Lore.” They stopped at the third door. “Here we are.”

Po pushed the door inward. Inside was a large room with bunk beds lining the walls.

“Wait,” Mason said. “Master Zin mentioned preparing ‘the rooms below.' For what?”

Po hesitated.

“We've handled bad news before,” Tom said bluntly. Too true.

Po spoke very carefully. “When students come to this school, they must undergo a test to find out which side they belong to. You have to earn your gloves.” Mason had noticed earlier none of the students were wearing Rhadgast gloves, including Po. Which made him feel a little better about his surroundings.

“We saved the Will,” Tom said defiantly. “Mason already earned his gloves.”

“Yeaaah,” Po said. “I heard about that. Very impressive and everything. It's just … you have to earn them the way everyone earns them.” He looked pointedly at Mason's hands. “I notice you don't have your gloves now.”

“They took them,” Mason said, a little surprised at how angry it made him. He'd used those gloves to save lives. Tom was right: they
had
earned them. “Then what can you tell us about the test, if we have to take it?” Mason said.

“I can't tell you anything. It's different for everyone. Also, I'd get expelled if they found out.”

“Well how do we get on your side?” Mason asked. “The Blood side?”

“Oh, I can't tell you that either. You have to find it in your heart.” Po widened his eyes, and Mason knew he'd just been given a clue. Maybe not the best clue, but a clue.

“Can you fail?” Tom said. Tom prided himself on
not
failing tests.

Po shrugged. “I don't know. You probably don't want to.
I don't know
. I shouldn't be talking about it. Just take a second to freshen up, drink some water, meditate … whatever you humans do. Then find your way back. Be there in ten, and don't be late.” Po darted back into the hallway, then leaned back through the doorway. “The heart,” he said, tapping his chest, then disappearing.

It was a good thing Mason had paid attention to the many turns they'd taken. Tom looked at him quizzically. “Uh, you know how to get back?”

“Yep. Pay attention next time, Renner.” He clapped Tom on the shoulder, who playfully shoved him back.

“I was just testing
you,
” Tom said. “I know exactly how to get back.”

They took in the room around them. The bunks were identical, the beds neatly made as they would be back at Academy II.

“So,” Mason said. “Is this another test? Figure out which one is ours?”

“No idea,” Tom replied. “If all the tests are like this, though, it should be a pretty easy ride.”

Yeah, that isn't going to happen,
Mason thought. Neither of them could afford to think anything was going to be easy. Or safe.

They spent a few minutes exploring the room, careful not to touch anything that wasn't theirs. Each bunk was big enough that a student could sit up and pull a desk out from the wall. Or at least it appeared that way; Mason and Tom didn't want to monkey with anything. He was sure they were still being monitored in some way. All he could really think about was the communicator: if they didn't get the devices back, things would go south rather quickly.

They drank from the bathroom faucets, which created neat little waterfalls that dropped into basins. Then they stretched, wanting to be prepared for whatever the test threw at them.

Mason and Tom walked back through the different hallways, coming across exactly no students or teachers or anyone.

“I do not like this,” Tom said quietly, as they approached the great room where the rhadjen had gathered.

It was completely empty, not a soul in sight.

But there was now a circular door at the far end, behind where Master Zin had been standing. Mason couldn't say if it had been there before.

“Join the club,” Mason replied. “I guess we go through there.”

“A brilliant deduction,” Tom said.

Mason did not know what lay beyond the doorway, and the uncertainty made his stomach feel as if it were full of writhing beetles. The deadly, spiky, smelly kind found on Nori-Blue. But he had a mission, and he would not fail, not if he could help it. The thought of being placed with the Stones made him start sweating, but he'd made it through worse. They both had.

Mason and Tom shared another look, then walked across the room to the circular doorway. Once they passed the threshold, the door slid shut behind them with the heavy sound of grinding stone. They were plunged into total darkness and a silence so vast Mason could hear the blood running through his veins and the quickening of his breath. The floor began to drop.

“Just an elevator,” Tom said in the darkness next to him.

“Just a dark,
weird
elevator,” Mason replied.

Tom gave a nervous laugh. They descended for a few minutes in total silence. Mason missed the gentle
whoosh
of an ESC lift; the absence of sound gave the unpleasant sensation of falling forever.

Finally, after the longest minute of his life, the doors opened on a small cave cut from the rock under Skars. The cave had two doors, one on the left, one on the right.

“I guess they want us to split up,” Tom said.

“A brilliant observation,” Mason replied.

They walked to the middle of the cave. The left door had a label on it that read
MASON
The right door read
THOMAS

Tom stuck out his hand. “Good luck, my friend.”

Mason looked at Tom's hand, then pulled him into a hug. After a moment, Tom hugged back.

Then they went into their separate rooms.

Mason's was dark like the elevator had been, but then it was lit. Mason squinted against the sudden light, but his eyes soon adjusted. And standing before him was Merrin Solace.

 

Chapter Ten

 

“Merrin! It's you! What are you … How…?”

Mason trailed off, taking in their surroundings. It was another cave room, with a domed, craggy ceiling. At the far end was a chest of some kind, a treasure chest, if he had to call it something.

Merrin was wearing a Tremist suit of armor. The surface was black but shifted colors depending on the light. Sometimes it would appear an oily purple, sometimes green. Mason was familiar with the armor, having stolen and worn a set himself. The pieces were able to mold to the individual user, just like the Rhadgast gloves.

Merrin had a neutral expression. She was clearly not as happy to see Mason again as he was to see her.

“Merrin…” he said.

“Hi, Mason.” Her arms were held weirdly at her sides, extended away from her body.

The sick feeling returned to his stomach.
Something's not right.
Why would Merrin Solace be part of his test?

“Mason, I'm really sorry. I'm really, really sorry.”

Mason approached her like he would a wounded animal. “Merrin, talk to me. Talk to me. It's me. Tell me what's going on.”

Merrin's eyes were wet now. “They said you have to choose.”

“Choose what? What do I have to choose?”

Merrin
screamed.
She fell to one knee, her left hand clutching her right. Mason stepped forward to help her, but he faltered, his lungs seizing, and he almost passed out right there. Merrin's right glove had contracted slightly, crushing her hand within.

Mason was on his knees next to her, trying to pry the material off. He cut his hand right away on the strange metal but didn't care. Merrin shoved him away, and he fell onto his back.

“No! Get away!” she said, nearly sobbing. “You can't get it off!” Her violet eyes were bright with pain, her forehead sweaty. She was taking quick, short breaths. Mason had never felt so helpless in his entire life. Everything was forgotten aside from his friend in agony.

“Tell me what's going on!
How do I help you?
” Mason said. He took a step toward her again but was careful not to get too close. Even as he watched, the armor over her forearm began to contract, and she grimaced, fresh tears flowing down her face.

“They told me you have to—that we
both
have to choose. You can either let the armor crush me to death…”

“Or what? Or what?” Mason would do whatever the other option was. He would never stand there and watch the armor slowly kill his friend. “Tell me what it is!”

She looked over her shoulder. There was a door in the wall. An ancient door made of wood and banded with iron. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They told me—they said there are five members of the ESC behind that door. Prisoners of war. You can choose to let them die to save me.”

Cold spread across Mason's chest, as if he'd just been stabbed by a sword made of ice. Merrin screamed again as her armor tightened around her elbow now, the sound fading to a sob.

“It's a trick,” he breathed. “There has to be a way to save you both.” He knew the answer in his heart, even as he said it.

“Don't play their game, Mason! You have to let me die. Those soldiers are innocent!”

Who are they? Are they young? Are they grizzled veterans? Does it matter?

“What happens if I don't choose!” Mason said. He dropped to his knees in front of her.

She shook her head, her lips clamped in pain.

“Tell me!”

“Then you die. But me and the soldiers will live.”

His path was entirely clear.

Mason took her face in his hands. Her skin was flushed violet, hot to the touch. They stared into each other's eyes for a long, clear moment, her face momentarily free of pain.

“If you don't let me die,” Merrin said, “I will never forgive you.”

Mason wouldn't have to live with that.

“If you were ever my friend,” Mason said. His cheeks were wet, too. “If you ever cared about me, you'd understand. I won't let anyone die for me. Not you and not those soldiers.”

Merrin looked at every inch of his face, as if searching for some deception. Mason was leaning on her now, a little. Their faces were so close.

“Mason…”

“I've never been so sure in my life,” he said. “I pick myself.”

She became blurry as his eyes welled again: this was it. He had made it to this point in his life, and nothing would come after. And he was okay with that. There were worse deaths than sacrificing yourself for your best friend—and for your fellow soldiers. Mason blinked to clear his eyes.

And when he opened them, she was gone.

Mason fell forward onto his hands and knees. A tear dripped from his cheek, darkening the stone floor. He looked around the room, searching for her, but there was only the chest. It was glowing now, with a soft white light.

Mason wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. He could barely move.
Stupid,
he thought.
You're stupid.
Of course the Rhadgast would never kill the king's daughter. They would never crush her hand. If he'd taken three seconds to think about it, he would've known it was an illusion. Somehow the Rhadgast had made him think his friend was here, in extreme agony. The implant in his brain felt hotter than before—maybe that was the thing responsible. Mason couldn't think of anything crueler.