“Why do you want me to throw you in?” Darla peered over the edge at the dark waters forty feet below.
“Because you’re the strongest.” Nona looked up at her friend. At fifteen Darla stood a good six-foot nine inches, broad in the chest, her arms thicker than Nona’s thighs.
Darla sighed. “Let’s get this over with.” She reached for Nona.
“Not from here!” Nona skipped away from Darla’s hand. “Over there!” Pointing, she ran to her chosen spot ten yards back into the wind.
Darla walked after her. “I know you’re a shrimp, but I’m not sure I can throw you that far, even wind-assisted.”
“I’m going to help you,” Nona said. “Put your hands like this, down low.” She cupped her hands together. “I’ll run at you, step in your hands, and you boost me over your head.”
Darla spread her arms, palms out. “That’s insane!”
“You said you’d help me out!” Nona hugged herself against the wind’s cold.
“But . . .” Darla shook her head and spat out a piece of ice. “What’s this for?”
“Can’t tell you. Conflict of interest. I’m protecting you.”
Darla pursed her lips, frowning. “Do we have to do it this far back? What if you fall short?”
“If I fall short then I’ll probably hurt myself.”
“Can’t we start closer?” Darla looked over her shoulder, judging the distance.
“We are starting closer. Next time we’ll add five yards. And there’s only so many times I want to jump in today.” Zero was the true number.
“Ancestor!” Darla spat again. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
Nona grinned. “Ready?”
“No.” Darla knelt and put her hands into a stirrup, ready for Nona’s lead foot.
Nona started to back off.
Darla called after her. “Let’s at least practise the last few steps!”
And so they did. Nona took the last five steps of her run in, set her foot into Darla’s hands and Darla launched Nona over her head. Nona landed two yards behind her, the force of the impact concertinaing her into a tight hunch about folded legs. They repeated the move four times.
“Good.” Nona rubbed her aching ankles. “You’ve got to be even quicker this time. I’ll be coming in fast and I need to keep the speed. Hold your hands higher . . . here . . . I’ll jump.”
Nona backed off ten yards and stripped off both shoes then her range-coat, placing them in the lee of a boulder.
• • •
“YOU WANT ME to steal a tub of kelp juice?”
“Yes.” Nona followed Ruli towards the vinery.
“Nasty stinking half-rotted seaweed?” Ruli stopped and peered at Nona as if she might be unwell.
“Yes. You can do it. Everyone knows Sister Oak is sweet on you.”
“Sister Oak,” Ruli sniffed, “appreciates my ledger-keeping skills and the nose I have for wine.”
“Whatever.” Nona pushed Ruli back into walking. “You can get me a tub.”
“Of course I can.” Ruli grinned over her shoulder. “There’s scores of them at the vinery. Best fertilizer money can buy. Plus we don’t pay for it. It’s harvested on the beach at Gerran’s Crag. I bet the Holy Sisters have a ball at that convent. My pa says most of them stink of seaweed and the ones that don’t smell of fish.”
“Good. Hide it for me somewhere easy to get at and let me know.” Nona turned away, stifling a sneeze.
“Wait! You’re not coming?”
“Got things to do!”
“You only love me for my rotten seaweed juice.” Ruli pouted. “What do you want it for?” She brightened. “You’re going to tip it over Joeli, aren’t you? Do it! Do it! It’ll turn her hair green. You can’t wash it out!”
“Something like that!” And Nona ran off across the courtyard before stopping and calling back. “Oh, and I need a net. A big one, like the ones they use to keep the barrels in the carts.”
Nothing to say, Keot?
The devil remained silent, sulking across her ribs. The discovery that being submerged in truly icy water distressed him so much was a useful one that Nona vowed to investigate more thoroughly at a later date.
• • •
“CHALLENGE!”
Nona raised her hands. “You got me!”
Zole scowled. “It was not difficult.”
Across the novice cloister members of Mystic Class were converging on them, weaving through the other classes who stood chatting in their usual groups, huddled on benches or strolling beneath the galleries.
Nona unwound her headscarf. “Got to try!”
“You’re the only novice wearing a headscarf,” Zole said.
“And now you’re the only bald novice,” Alata said, drawing up to them.
“Also you’re the only novice with huge black eyes like an insect.” Joeli came up behind them from her patrol of the gallery.
“And with no shadow,” Crocey sneered. Though with the scudding cloud overhead there were few chances to check for the presence of a person’s shadow even if Nona hadn’t still been in the shade of the cloister walls when challenged.
Elani came across, her sneer echoing Crocey’s, her arm still splinted from Nona breaking her elbow in the dormitory attack. “It’s a pity you’ll never reach the tree. I would enjoy watching you try to hide in it.” She waved her good arm at the stark branches that stood like a thousand black fingers raised against the sky.
“Good!” Mally was one of the last to arrive. “We can go and eat at last!”
Normally the trial was held in Verity on seven-days and each candidate got to try her luck across a whole seven-day from dawn to dusk, with the sixth fail ending the matter. Since the novice cloisters were all but deserted on a seven-day Nona had managed to get Sister Apple to agree that she might try at any non-lesson time between breakfast and dinner, one attempt per day for the six days leading up to the seven-day. If she hadn’t succeeded by dinner on six-day then the trial was over and she had failed. This meant of course that none of those on guard duty could get lunch without weakening the defence.
“Couldn’t you just try before lunch?” Mesha trailed in behind Mally, rubbing her stomach. “Everyone knows you’re not going to make it. So be a saint and fail early!”
“On
