Of Giants and Ice (Ever Afters, The) (11 page)

“I heard he’s still looking for it,” Chase said.

“But there really haven’t been many Failed Tales
recently
,” Lena added quickly. “I think only eight in the past decade. The Director has been so careful. You know, since the war. She has all these extra rules and precautions. Like the rings of return yesterday.”

Now I started to realize how well I’d been duped. “If there have only been eight Failed Tales in the past ten years, where did the
rest
of the names come from?”

“I guess we did forget to mention that,” Adelaide said innocently.

“The Wall actually shows all the names of Failed Tales since the founding of EAS’s North American Chapter,” said Chase.

“And how long ago was that?” I asked Lena evenly, knowing that
she
would tell me the truth.

“Same day as the founding of the United States,” she replied, watching me worriedly. “A Revolutionary Character decided it was her patriotic duty.”

So, I had seen two and a half
centuries
of Failed Tales.

I didn’t know how to react. Horror and fury both seemed like good options.

“It’s just a little fun between friends,” Chase said, and suddenly anger gained the upper hand.

“We’re
not
friends,” I said sharply.

“So, tell us about it, Rory. Could you sleep last night? Did you have nightmares? Did you—”

Something about the way he didn’t listen—the way he just kept
talking like I hadn’t said
anything
—sent me over the edge. It happened enough with my dad. I was
not
going to put up with it from a stupid bully my own age.

Before I really thought about it, I grabbed a handful of chocolate cake and shoved it in Chase’s face.

I regretted it the instant the cake smushed. I could practically see the headline now:
LANDON & WRIGHT
’
S DAUGHTER GIVES CLASSMATE A CHOCOLATE CAKE FACIAL
. It would be third grade all over again.

But then I remembered: They didn’t know.
Nobody
here knew. There was no way that this would make it to the press. It wouldn’t even get back to my parents.

Then Adelaide gasped a little, and with a surge of triumph, I let myself do exactly what I wanted to do—exactly what Adelaide deserved. I scooped up the rest of the cake and smeared it over her hair.

Adelaide shrieked in a very satisfying way, but Chase only scowled, drawing a fingertip over his cheek and licking off the icing.

Lena and Kelly stared at me, and I didn’t blame them. I would’ve stared at me too.

Adelaide ran off, still wailing, to the girl’s bathroom, and Kelly handed me a napkin to wipe my hands. Lena giggled a little.

After a second, I smiled back, my anger draining away. I
liked
it, almost as much as the Yellowstone adventure.

Maybe I had to watch myself at Ridgefield, and all the other schools I had been to in the past few years, but here at EAS, things were going to be different.
I
was going to be different.

“We are
not
friends,” I told Chase again, and he glared at me through a mask of crumbs and icing.

“Time for sword practice,” Lena said brightly.

•  •  •

The walls of the training courts were covered with mirrors, the floors with slate. Lena led me to the corner where the triplets waited, their swords in hand.

I couldn’t help but notice that we were the youngest Characters in the room. I wasn’t used to being so much shorter than everyone else. A kid just beside us either had giant blood, or he’d repeated a grade ten times.

“I kind of feel outnumbered,” I said, as more and more older students filed into the room. “Why are there so many high schoolers?”

“Well, there
are
twice as many EASers in high school than in middle school,” Lena said slowly. “Each grade gains a few more students every year. By the time we’re George’s age, we’ll have, like, thirty kids.” She leaned in close and added, “But just so you know, the longer you’ve been here, the better your Tale is. Nine times out of ten.”

So, maybe waiting on my Tale wouldn’t be
such
a bad thing.

Adelaide came in late, refusing to look at me. A long streak of chocolate matted the back of her hair, which made me smile.

Right behind her was a man with salt and pepper hair—the same guy who inspected the dragon’s hoard in Yellowstone. He had to be Hansel, because everyone straightened up as soon as he entered the room.

“What are you looking at
me
for?” he bellowed when he saw us assembled in front of him. “Someone get out the practice dummies.” He pointed to one of the triplets. “You, Kevin.”

I bounced a little on the balls of my feet.

If I blinded a dragon the first time I ever touched a sword, obviously I would be able to slay whole
packs
of them with just a little training. Well, maybe not packs, but at least I could graduate
from the
slash-and-escape
trick to the actual slaying.

Kevin ran over and threw open an iron-studded door on the other side of the room. Metal clanged, and a second later, dozens of black figures filed into the training court: small dragons, ugly trolls, wolves lashing their black iron tails, miniature giants with clubs, and evil-looking fairies whose iron wings fluttered with excitement.

“Your mouth is open, Rory,” said someone behind me.

I closed it abruptly. Chase had just entered the courts with a crowd of tardy high schoolers. I noticed with relish that he had needed to change his shirt.

“Don’t worry, Rory. I was pretty shocked too, the first time I saw them,” Lena said.

“They’re alive?”

“No, but they do move on their own. One of Madame Benne’s inventions,” Lena added with pride. “Hansel says that they’re the only thing that keeps beginners from hacking each other to pieces.”

“That’s stupid,” I said. “What about practice swords?”

Then I realized my mistake. The dummies had stopped moving. The practice courts were silent. Everyone was looking at me, including Hansel.

I gulped. As fast as someone flipping a light switch, my face burned red. I watched it in the practice mirrors. It was twice as embarrassing when I could actually see it.

Across the room, Chase snickered.

“If it isn’t the famous Rory Landon,” said Hansel, “who took it upon herself to slay dragons on her very first day.”

Obviously, Hansel was as much of a bully as Chase and Adelaide, but the grown-up kind.

I glanced at Lena beside me. She was sending me a warning with her eyes, but I didn’t know what she was trying to warn me
about.

“You seem very sure of your skills,” Hansel continued. “So you won’t mind helping me with today’s demonstration.”

I stepped forward nervously, not seeing any way out of it, but Lena said, “She hasn’t got her sword, sir.”

“Conner, do you know which one is hers?” Hansel said, without turning away from me.

I smiled at Lena and shrugged helplessly. She had tried.

When Conner darted into a closet, Hansel began his lesson. I stood at his side, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“We have been practicing the disarming technique for a week and a half now. Those of you who are still terrible at it will probably be terrible your entire lives,” Hansel said.

A bunch of people winced, including Lena, and I scowled at Hansel. That was
not
how you were supposed to teach.

He didn’t notice. “There’s nothing we can do about it, so we might as well move on. Today I’ll teach you how to counter the disarm.”

Conner ran out of the closet and held out both sword and sheath to me, a little awkwardly, with both hands. I didn’t realize why until I reached for it.

The unexpected weight almost made me drop it. A few people laughed, including Conner.

In my reflection, my neck turned as red as my face.

“You’re a beginner, but surely you know you’re supposed to hold on to your sword.” Hansel eyed the blade in my hand very skeptically, as if he had his doubts whether or not I could handle a toothpick, much less a sword.

“It’s a lot heavier than it was before,” I mumbled, not daring to look at Chase. I knew he was laughing at me too.

“Well, you can’t rely on adrenaline in practice,” Hansel said. “Sword tip up.”

Slowly, muscles straining, I raised the sword.

“You, over here.” Hansel pointed to one of the evil fairy dummies. It came closer and stood right across from me, and I willed myself not to take a step back. Metal wings included, it was four feet taller than I was.

I had felt a lot more confident before Conner handed me the sword.

The weight made me clumsy. One palm cramped around the hilt, and the other one sweated like crazy.

“To review, the trick to most disarming techniques lies in locking your hilt guard with your opponent’s and twisting quickly so you wretch it from their hand,” Hansel told his class. “To counter this, you let go of your sword, predict the arc of its movement, and snatch the hilt out of the air. Simple.”

I hoped everyone else didn’t think it was as simple as Hansel did.

But a lot of students nodded. Chase looked impatient, like he had heard all of it before.

I shook myself a little and tried to concentrate despite my burning face. I was already up in front of everyone. I had to do my best.

“Now for our demonstration.” Hansel turned to me with a smile I didn’t like. I held my sword a little tighter and reviewed the instructions. I was still thinking about the arc of the blade when the evil fairy dummy lunged forward, hooked his black hilt guard around mine, and sent my sword spinning through the air.

It landed ten feet away. A few of the older kids laughed as I scrambled after my sword.

“I wanted you to demonstrate the
counter
to the disarming technique, not the technique itself,” Hansel said, as I returned to the evil fairy dummy. “Again.”

The dummy came at me before I even got a decent grip. I raised the blade hurriedly and felt the sword leave my hand.

“Don’t forget to catch it!” Hansel shouted.

I watched it spin and reached toward the hilt. Pain opened across the back of my hand. I snatched it away as my sword clattered to the floor. A neat slice marked three of my knuckles, just a little wider than a papercut.

“Class, Rory has just demonstrated how
not
to counter being disarmed. I’m sure most of you will realize what kind of problems you’ll create if you injure
yourself,
” Hansel said dryly.

I stomped over to where my sword had fallen and grabbed it, half furious with myself and half mad at Hansel. It was like he was
trying
to humiliate me.

“Do you need to visit the infirmary?” Lena whispered.

I shook my head and turned to face the evil fairy dummy again. “It isn’t deep.”

“Beginners,” said Hansel scornfully, arms crossed over his chest. “Full of bravado. You have no idea what you might be up against. You would all be dead in two moves if the war hadn’t ended. Especially you girls.”

I stared at him, not believing I heard him right. The older students fidgeted uncomfortably. Even Adelaide looked annoyed.

I don’t know what made me speak out. Maybe the chocolate cake incident started something, or maybe I was too mad to think clearly.

“You shouldn’t say that. Someday, we might even be better than you,” I told Hansel hotly. The evil fairy dummy shifted, and I
braced myself for the attack that I knew was coming.

“Pretty words. You won’t be the first Character to die saying something like that,” Hansel said. “But not today. I’ll set you up with an easy dummy to practice blocking, but first we have a demonstration to get through—Rory, out. Chase, in.”

I let my sword dangle at my side and stepped into the crowd, still fuming.

Lena must’ve noticed. “Hansel always picks on the new Characters,” she said in an apologetic tone.

Chase shouldered through the other students, and he paused in front of Lena and me, just to smirk. I clenched the fist that wasn’t holding my sword.

“He’s just trying to get back at you for the cake,” Lena whispered.

I should’ve known that he would be good, the way he had walked in with the older students. With an easy grace, he twirled his sword around in an elaborate flourish, and he turned to the evil fairy dummy. This time, since I wasn’t the one in the hot seat, I saw Hansel signal to the dummy by flicking three fingers. The dummy attacked, and Chase let it.

With a sound like a knife getting sharpened, Chase’s sword spun up, rising directly above his head. Chase jumped up after it, kicking the dummy squarely in the chest. The dummy tumbled feet over wings over feet and crashed into the mirrored wall behind them. The glass shattered.

“Chase,” said Hansel, exasperated. “What have I told you about breaking the training mirrors?”

“Sorry,” said Chase, landing lightly. He didn’t sound sorry. His sword was in his hand.

“He jumped five feet in the air,” Adelaide said in a dreamy tone.

One of the older students shook his head, impressed. “At least six.”

I didn’t want to, especially since Chase was smirking around the room like he expected everyone to applaud, but I had to admit the move had been cool.

“Well, that’s one variation,” Hansel said, yawning a little. “Of course, if you let your sword get away from you like that, there’s a good chance you’ll have to defend yourself. Which is why Chase kicked the dummy across the room.”

“You know, besides showing off,” I muttered.

Lena snorted, and Chase shot me an evil look.

“Chase, try it again. This time, keep your feet on the ground.” Hansel gestured to the fairy dummy. Glass tinkled to the floor as it stood up. It ran at Chase. I blinked when their blades struck, and when I looked again, Chase had his sword and the dummy’s in his hands.

“
Definitely
a show-off,” I said, and beside me, Lena nodded with a rueful shrug.

When the older kids and Chase paired off to practice, Hansel assigned each of the sixth graders to a specific dummy, according to their skill. He took me to a little dummy in the back. It was wizened and hunchbacked like an old witch, and the sword it swung looked a lot like a long wand. I felt a little insulted.