“Don’t struggle,” the Golden Mask said, his tone low and even. Though he spoke softly, his voice carried authority. “The more you struggle, the quicker you’ll lose consciousness.
Jamie stilled.
“Good,” the Golden Mask continued. “Now, you know who I am.”
It was a statement, not a question, but Jamie nodded.
“So, you might be asking yourself why I’m here or, in fact, why you’re here. You might’ve already come to the conclusion that it has something to do with the Cleaners.” The Golden Mask paused, studying Jamie.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Jamie stared straight ahead. Get on with it!
“This is a recruitment session. You present an interesting case, Mr. Thiessen. On one hand, you’re a good candidate for the Cleaners—powerfully Gifted and proven in the Trials. But, as suitable as you might be, my interrogator feels that we should let you go. He feels that your upbringing, isolated from the Great Colleges, means you lack kinship with the Gifted. That your loyalties for your family and for Allyra Warden run too deep to ever be replaced by anything, or anyone else.”
“What do you think?” Jamie asked quietly.
“Does it matter?”
Jamie laughed, exhausted but not beaten. “You wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.”
“Very good, Mr. Thiessen. I think everything my interrogator concluded about you is correct. And that is a problem. The motto for the Cleaners is: A new dawn. A new life. I am awake. As a Cleaner, you must put your past behind you. Your loyalty must go first to the Cleaners—to the Golden Mask, to your team, and to the Gifted Council.
“Our training ensures that most people can put their history behind them. But for someone with loyalties as fierce and deep-seated as yours—this can be difficult. So, you see, Mr. Thiessen, your case is complicated.”
Jamie waited. They could’ve just sent him on his way. The very fact that the Golden Mask was here spoke volumes. They wanted him.
“My interrogator furnishes me with information. But the decision is ultimately mine. I believe intense loyalty isn’t always a bad thing. If you’re able to redirect it, you could become a powerful asset. If you can’t—well then, moving forward with you would be tantamount to signing your death warrant.
“We guard our secrets fiercely. There are only two outcomes to Cleaner training—you either leave as a Cleaner or in a body bag. More importantly, if you fail, your whole team fails, and you will all die.
“So, I only have one question for you: do you want to be part of the Cleaners?”
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Not too eager. But perhaps before he bled to death.
“Yes,” Jamie gasped.
Chapter 3 – Allyra
The Cleaners led her through the main building of the Elemental College and out through the formal gardens toward the wooden doors set into the rocky face of the mountain. Her heartbeat quickened again, adrenaline raging through her veins like molten lava. This wasn’t just the way to the Great Hall but also to the dungeons. The dungeons where they locked up the Gifted who violated the Gifted Charter. The dungeons built from stone and iron and lead, far below ground, from which no Gifted had ever escaped. It was a fate far worse than death.
The Cleaners opened the wooden doors, and Allyra blinked as her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden change in light after the glare of the African sunshine in the gardens. Her breathing eased a little when she saw the Combat Master of the Elemental College waiting for her in the foyer.
Master Mabaso greeted her with a brief nod and characteristically short, staccato speech. “Allyra. Follow me.”
Allyra turned to retrieve her backpack, which was still with one of the Cleaners, who was holding it at arm’s length as if it was something unclean.
Master Mabaso stopped her. “You won’t need that. Everything will be provided at the Training Grounds. Let’s go.”
Instead of the grand wooden doors to the Great Hall, Master Mabaso led the way through the side door that led into the dungeons of the Elemental College. But, despite Allyra’s fears, the dungeons weren’t their destination. They walked deeper into the mountain, toward the Tunnels that had been the location of the Second Trial.
“Where are we going?” Allyra asked.
“The Training Grounds,” Master Mabaso answered shortly.
Allyra sighed. She’d forgotten Master Mabaso’s aversion toward any kind of conversation. She tried again. “Where are the Training Grounds?”
Master Mabaso shot her a quick, slightly exasperated look but answered nonetheless. “The Training Grounds are through the Shadow Causeway.”
They’d arrived at a doorway made of twisted roots much like the one she’d walked through that took her into the Tunnels of the Second Trial.
Allyra hesitated. “Am I going to remember this?” she asked.
“The Shadow Causeway is made for travel. It links together all the Great Colleges. It shares little resemblance with the Tunnels, which are made to test the Gifted,” Master Mabaso answered shortly though not unkindly.
As Master Mabaso moved to walk through the doorway, a Sentinel appeared, transforming slowly from transparency into pale, opaque white. The Sentinels were magical sentries, guarding spaces where only the Gifted could go—the Great Halls of the Colleges, the Tunnels, and apparently this Shadow Causeway. The Sentinels appeared intangible, but they were deadly nonetheless, their weapons made of mist and fog, just as deadly as any created from steel.
The Sentinel reached out a hand, and Master Mabaso offered hers in reply. This ritual was something Allyra knew well enough—the Sentinels tested the blood of anyone who wished to pass through their protection, allowing through only those who had Gifted blood pumping through their veins.
The Sentinel
