quick, promise,” Bri says, grabbing my arm and steering me around another gravelly path to the end of the building.
The two boys hurry to keep up with us.
“Shouldn’t we go through the school?” Jack asks, the pace making his limp more obvious. “It’ll be faster.”
“Just to let her see the stadium,” Bri says as we round the corner.
And there, on the other side of an empty patch of dirt, lies a perfectly circular arena, its solid stone walls reaching high up into the sky.
“Nice, ain’t it?” Owen asks, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. “It’s where all the tournaments take place and the knights practice.”
I lick my lips, staring at the gray structure. “You mean…real knights fight there?” I ask. This whole KORT thing isn’t just the name of a drama club?
“Of course!” Owen says, flinging his arm out as if holding an imaginary sword. “They get to fight with weapons and elementals in their noble quest to defend the world against the Fey. Whoosh, he creates a wall of fire for diversion”—he dodges and twists around an invisible foe—“dashes around the Fey’s attack,uses an air shield to protect himself from the poison, and then”— he jumps toward Jack, bringing his arm down in a swinging motion—“defeats the enemy and captures his ogham.”
“Stop,” Bri says. “I think she’s going to get sick.”
And she’s right. My vision’s a fuzzy blur of grays, and my breath comes out in short gasps. I feel someone move me, and I find myself sitting down. The coolness of the stone bench seeps through my clothes, slowly helping my mind to clear up.
“Are you all right?” Bri asks, her small face concerned.
“She looks pale,” Jack says, pushing his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “Maybe we should take her to the infirmary.”
I shake my head. “I’m OK, thanks,” I lie. Just a little panic attack, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.
“Didn’t think she’d faint at the mention of knights,” Owen says. “Girls can be so delicate.”
“I thought this was a Catholic school,” I say.
“It is,” Jack says. “Weren’t you in Mass with us?”
“I thought I was going to go to a
normal
school,” I retort, tears streaming down my cheeks, “with normal people, and learn normal things, not…”
“Not learning how to become a knight and fight?” Bri asks, sitting down next to me and patting my back. “There, there, it’s not so bad, really.”
“Not bad?” Owen exclaims. “Being a knight is an honor! Only those who pass the test are able to come down here and train, and even then, not everyone gets to be knighted! It’s very difficult to even make it to that level.”
“But I didn’t ask for any of this!” I say, yelling despite myself. I wipe my runny nose on my coat sleeve. “I don’t care about your knights and your Fey creature thingies!”
Owen’s eyes widen, and he snaps his mouth shut.
“It’s really not that bad,” Bri says again, grabbing Jack’s tissue and using it to dab my eyes. But that small act of kindness only makes me cry harder.
“Truly,” Bri says, looking pleadingly at the two boys. “I mean, what Owen says is right; not everyone gets to become a knight. There’s lots of people who end up having a pretty regular life after school.”
I blow my nose hard. “Really?” I ask with a hiccup.
Bri nods emphatically. “Yeah, and even being a knight isn’t so bad these days, compared to what it was like centuries ago, when they were constantly at war.”
“Actually, it’s been reported that Fey activity’s increased in recent years,” Jack says.
“You’re not helping here,” Bri says, throwing him a warning glance.
But I’ve cried so much, I’m left feeling strangely empty, and Jack’s comment doesn’t stir me.
“So you’re supposed to take a test to get here?” I ask, trying not to think too hard beyond the present moment.
“It’s usually pretty straightforward,” Jack says. “They see
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley