All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [132]
“Third,” Miss Westin continued, “answering a question incorrectly may be dangerous. I advise that you not risk guessing. If you do not know an answer, move to another path, or if you find yourself at a dead end, you may stop the examination by raising your hand and declaring yourself ‘done.’ You will be removed and your score tallied.”
These new facts sent waves of murmurs through the gathered freshmen.
Maybe because the notion of giving up was abhorrent to this crowd of overachievers. Or maybe, like Fiona, it was the idea of being utterly mortified by being “removed” from the exam in front of everyone.
Or just maybe it was because Fiona couldn’t imagine how putting down a wrong answer could be dangerous . . . although she took Miss Westin at her word.
This test obviously wasn’t going to be a normal pencil-and-paper, multiple-choice type thing.
Miss Westin opened her little black book and ran a bony finger down the page. “Ah, yes,” she said, “first up—Green Dragon. Gather before the entrance now.”
Eight students pushed forward through the crowd.
Eliot and Fiona got out of their way before they got trampled.
Green Dragon had some big people on it. The boys looked like seniors—giants compared with Eliot. Even the girls were all a head taller than Fiona. They shot one another sidelong glances and elbowed each other for the best forward positions.
Fiona didn’t get it. Okay, sure, they were all competing for the same good grades. But the people on Green Dragon had fought together in gym class. Didn’t that count for anything? She couldn’t imagine being so rude to anyone on her team . . . not even Sarah or Jeremy.
The Dragons nervously bounced on the balls of their feet as Miss Westin checked off their names in her book. She removed her silver pocket watch and made a note of the time.
“You may proceed,” she told them. “Good luck.”
They rushed the archway—pushed and shoved down the tight corridor, and then were gone.
The tunnel swallowed the sounds of their passing.
Fiona shivered.
Miss Westin flipped a page in her book and declared: “Team Scarab. Gather before the entrance.”
Adrenaline shot through Fiona. She wasn’t ready. She should have reread the Clan Canticles this morning. She definitely should have gone to the girls’ restroom one last time. Everything she had learned this semester seemed to be gone from her memory.
Eliot nudged her.
She turned on him, irritated.
Worry creased his brow as well, but amazingly, he looked ready to do battle. It was the same stoic concentration she’d seen when he fought those shadow demons in the alley.
Fiona snorted. Well, if he could keep his cool, then so could she.
Together they stepped toward Miss Westin.
The Headmistress gave them both a tiny nod of approval. Her gaze then darkened as it fell upon the rest of Team Scarab.
Behind them gathered Jeremy, Sarah, Mitch, Robert, Amanda, and last, Jezebel.
Jeremy and Sarah looked impeccable in their freshly pressed Paxington school uniforms. Both had their long hair pulled back tight and had looks of total focus on their faces. But they weren’t together like her and Eliot. They stood on opposite sides of the team, deliberately not looking at each other.
Amanda brushed aside her hair, spotted Fiona, and gave her a confident smile.
Fiona reciprocated the gesture, relieved that at least one other member of Team Scarab wasn’t putting friendship before grades.
Why was it an either/or choice? Fiona didn’t accept that to win this battle, one of her friends or someone on her team had to lose because of the grading curve.
Mitch and Robert simultaneously noticed her; Mitch grinned, Robert frowned—then they saw each other looking at her and quickly diverted their gazes.
She’d have to have a talk with Robert soon. This limbo state they were in relationship-wise was doing neither of them any good.
Fiona shook her head to clear those thoughts. She had to stay focused on how to help out her team while winning at the same time.
Jezebel limped up to join