My wristband flashed.
Number one.
My turn. First up.
I realised I hadn’t even looked to see who else was in my group by the time I reached the door. Did that mean I was playing my own game now and had stopped caring about anyone else? I didn’t know. Maybe Ruth had gotten inside my head. She was certainly playing her own game.
Yolanda’s eyes met mine as I turned my head, pale brown against her dark skin. The bracelet on her wrist was flashing green. I barely knew her, having spoken with her only three or four times. She’d lost the friends she’d made on her first day here—the two blondes, Greta and Roxy.
Someone else appeared behind her. Ruth.
Harrington met us outside. My heart fell at getting Ruth and Harrington on my team again.
But this was my group of four for the fourth challenge and I had to make the best of it. Yolanda, Ruth and Harrington. Maybe they were cursing being put with me.
There were no whispers or rustling behind the walls this time as we rushed to the garden. The mentors stood silently beside the stream, encouraging us with serene, close-lipped smiles.
“You can do this,” said Brother Vito. “But there can be no hesitation or mistakes with this challenge. You haven’t got this far without either being extremely good or extremely lucky. If it is that you are good, keep faith in yourself and study the patterns carefully. If it is that you are merely lucky, may luck still be on your side.”
That sounded kind of terrifying. I wasn’t at all sure if I’d shown any skill in the challenges so far. Skill could continue. Luck couldn’t.
The dark air smelled strangely metallic as we walked in, and the door closed behind us.
The lights flashed on all at once, blinding me for a moment.
My vision cleared, and huge objects came into focus.
Birds. Made of metal. Six of them. Similar to the metal bird in the monastery foyer.
The birds—each twice as large as a man—were suspended from the ceiling on thin rods that stretched down to about my chest height. With their wings straight out in flight, they formed a tight circle close to the centre of the room.
“Son of a—” said Ruth, scowling. “What is this?”
I peered between the birds. For the first time, there was no hexagonal box in the centre of the room. Instead, pieces of chunky wood in geometric shapes were scattered about the room.
“I’d lay bets those are the box,” said Yolanda, pointing. “Looks like we’re meant to put it together.”
“Saul . . .” I said softly.
“Wasn’t he the one who got killed?” Yolanda shot me a nervous, confused glance.
I nodded. “He was a puzzle box hobbyist. This one would have been right up his alley.”
“Well, he’s not here to help us,” said Harrington in a pinched voice, as if Saul was being selfish. “Anyway, how hard can it be?”
“I don’t know,” said Ruth “I mean, how do the birds figure into it?”
“Fine.” Harrington took a step back, crossing his arms. “Let’s all stand here having a pleasant conversation, shall we?”
Yolanda’s temple twitched, and she shot Harrington a scornful look. “You sound just like my mother. Passive aggressive. I had such a pleasant conversation with her in the mirror during the last challenge.” Angered, she marched forward towards the nearest of the wooden pieces. Before she reached it, a sound vibrated through the air.
One of the birds shifted out on its metal pole. Then one by one, each of them did the same. The vibrating sound became a high-pitched whirring as the enormous birds began swinging to and fro.
Yelling out in fear, Yolanda fled, a bird beak narrowly missing her.
The birds began moving in sharp, erratic arcs.
We rushed back against the wall.
Heavy, whooshing sounds filled the air as the birds rose and fell in long swoops, crisscrossing each other’s paths but never touching.
I raised my face, gazing up at the top ends of the pendulums that the birds were suspended on. The pendulums were suspended on metal balls and able to swing in any direction. The birds swung straight past where the hexagonal box should be.
Ruth did a slow clap. “Great work. How do we put that box together now?” She sighed then. “We’re going to have to grab the pieces one by one and put it together back here.”
“No,” I replied. “The box goes where it always goes.” I sounded certain. Was I certain? No, I wasn’t. But it was my best guess. There isn’t time for second-guessing.
“I’m with Evie,” said Yolanda. “The box has to go dead centre. Something had to have been triggered when I walked over there before,” said Yolanda.