Page 108 of The Knights of Gaia

The tub was filled with bleach. My nose told me that before my eyes did.

“Thoroughly bleach everything to get out the stains and the stench of the Wilderness.” Ms. Featherdale pointed at the enormous pile of old tablecloths on the floor. Then she turned and walked back to the ballroom.

I grabbed a smock and a pair of pink cleaning gloves off the back of a foldout chair in the corner. “These tablecloths look like they’ve been through the apocalypse.” I held up one of them, frowning. “Are those tire tracks?”

“Probably,” Kylie said as she geared up for work. “It looks like the Scavengers recovered these tablecloths from the Wilderness beyond the Fortress.”

“I guess that makes them relics from the World That Was.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Kylie plunged a tablecloth into the bathtub of bleach.

I did the same to the tire track tablecloth in my hands.

“I wonder if the other teams are having this much fun.” Kylie glanced sidelong at me, smirking.

“I’m pretty sure they are,” I replied.

All the Apprentices had gathered at the Castle this morning to receive today’s assignments from Ms. Featherdale and Mr. Manly, Ms. Pirana’s replacement. That’s when Nevada told me her team was gearing up to wash dishes in the Castle’s kitchen. And Dante informed me his team would be cleaning up tree debris and raking leaves at the Oval. The members of Team Victory weren’t particularly happy about working as ‘glorified Cutters’.

“Not bad, bro!” Asher called out.

Ms. Featherdale had left the door to the ballroom open. I shifted to the side until I could see Dutch and Asher. Dutch had lifted a bulky, metallic ceiling lamp over his head and was parading around the room with it, while Asher cheered him on. The lamp, shaped like a globe, was as large as a chandelier and looked really heavy.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Ms. Featherdale gasped in horror.

“Making this assignment more interesting,” Dutch said through clenched teeth. He was clearly struggling to keep the lamp aloft. “And practicing magic.”

“How is this magic?” Ms. Featherdale’s eyes tracked the expensive lamp. She looked like she wanted to rush in and grab it—but knew she couldn’t lift something that heavy.

“It’s not magic,” Bronte chimed in. “Dutch is just being pigheaded.”

Dutch winked at her. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, princess.”

“I amnotjealous.” Bronte said the words a little too forcefully, blowing the assortment of feathers in front of her off the table. She scrambled to retrieve them.

Asher laughed. “Inspired by yesterday’s Tournament, Dutch fancies himself a Knight now, you know. A Metamorph just as strong as Jareth Mars. That’s how he can lift that lamp.”

The ball-lamp hit the floor with a resounding thump. Luckily, it was too sturdy to break.

Bronte watched it roll across the ballroom, brows lifted. “It’s a good thing you didn’t try to lift a mirror,” she told Dutch.

“It’s easy to judge from the sidelines,” Dutch shot back. “If you’re so perfect, why don’t you show us how it’s done?”

Asher chuckled. “There’s no chance of that. Vance won’t risk a public show of magic until she’s mastered the spell. She cares too much about her perfect reputation to riskdropping the ball.” He winked at Dutch…

…who rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

“Hey, how about you show us some magic, Asher!” Kylie called to him from our next door concrete bunker.

Our neglected tablecloths were floating in the bleach bathtub.

“Ok.” Asher rolled back his shoulders and stood up a bit taller as he scanned the room, searching for inspiration. His gaze locked on to the ball-lamp. He sashayed over to it, scooped it up with his hands, and lifted it over his head.

“Copycat,” Dutch snickered.

“Oh, this isn’t a repeat of your failed show. It’s something far more magical. I’m going to…” Asher puffed a few times under the strain of keeping the ball aloft. “…levitate it in the air. Just like the White Knight did yesterday when he caught the falling Scoreboard with his mind.”

“You’re talking about telekinesis,” Bronte said, like she was a student answering a quiz question.

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