The old adage had it right: the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Being the spectator had some benefit. Namely, it was obvious to me that none of the current approaches would work.
“We need to focus on one spot, all together!” I shouted above the incoming screech.
“Nice try. You just want us to do the hard work for you!” Oliver yelled back.
Mr. Abara offered a shrug as he carried on with his cutting, and it didn’t look like the others had heard me.
“I’m serious! We need to—” I didn’t get to finish, as the security protocols swept over the monastery and tossed everyone backward. Mr. Abara bore the brunt of it as an explosion surged out of the marks he’d made and hit him square in the chest. He careened past me, his body curved where the impact had struck him. A few more seconds and he’d be in the water, too.
I don’t know if it was compassion or instinct, but my palms lifted on autopilot and tendrils of Telekinesis shot out, wrapping around Mr. Abara’s torso. The wrench of his trajectory almost took me with him, but I managed to dig my heels into the soft earth and brace myself enough to keep my footing. As he dragged me closer to the edge, I fell back onto my butt and hauled on the tendrils with all my strength. Mr. Abara paused in midair, a look of surprise on his face. I yanked harder, bringing him back toward me, where he landed in a heap at my side.
“Thank you, Finch,” he gasped. “That was a good thing you did just now.”
I nodded, sweating. “No worries.”
“I mean it.” His face contorted, struggling with some buried emotion. “I can’t lose this chance.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
He got to his feet and held out his hand. I took it and let him drag me up, feeling how sandpapery rough his palm was—the hand of a guy who’d worked hard his entire life. I didn’t know what this meant, exactly. Were we pals now? Either way, at least I’d helped the guy out. He clearly wanted into the monastery for a deeper reason than he let on. Everyone else’s desires were about money and glory and long life, but I wasn’t sure about Mr. Abara anymore. Maybe he had something else in mind. And I wouldn’t find out unless we made it into that building.
As the sirens faded to a quiet vibration, everyone returned to their task with gusto, aside from Melody. She took a break and sat on the grass, panting hard. But Luke stepped things up a notch. His hands pressed right up against the door now, his Magneton abilities trying to bend and break every bit of metal that held the thing together. Just like the windows, the metalwork resisted, evidently laced with some kind of secret strength. A damp patch soaked the back of his shirt as he toiled. Must be nice, having someone to do the heavy lifting.
“We need to work together!” I yelled again. Maybe they’d listen to me now. I’d saved Mr. Abara—that had to give me some trustworthy points, right?
“Shove off, Finch.” Oliver smirked. “Nobody’s going to help you, you couch potato. You’re on your own, the same as the rest of us.”
Couch potato?! I’d started the day breaking into the Fountain of Youth and fighting the slimy blobfish, Davin Doncaster. I bet he couldn’t say the same. I was running on empty already—I had no energy to waste here, trying to chip away at this monastery and hope for the best.
I tried to stay cool. “Working solo isn’t going to get us inside! We need to find a weak spot and focus on it, TOGETHER!”
“They won’t listen,” Mr. Abara said. “People like this, they aren’t used to working as a team. I would join you, but I understand their reluctance. We don’t know the rules of the game. What if only one of us gets the chance to enter? It’s not a risk any of us will take. Sorry, my man.”
I watched him go, my exasperation rising. The spot on the window where he’d tried to carve out the glass had repaired itself, meaning he was back at square one. Etienne hadn’t said anything about allowing only one person inside. He’d said, “otherwise none of you will get in.” That suggested there was room for more than one student, but it’d be a waste of good air trying to explain that to the others.
I covered my ears as another siren went off, the screech threatening to burst my eardrums. Each new blast was worse than the last. This time, Luke got the full hit of the security measures. He shot backward like a bullet from a gun, heading right for disqualification.
Melody’s head whipped around as he sailed away from her. She chanted something under her breath and lifted her palms. A rainbow of glittering Chaos spiraled out of her hands and splintered through the air. The moment the tendrils touched Luke, a pair of enormous, multicolored wings sprouted from his back. They flapped of their own accord, bringing Luke to a halt. He looked startled to find these new appendages sticking out of his shoulder blades. He craned wildly to get a good look at them. Before he could, they brought him back to earth. He landed delicately on the grass, the wings shrinking and falling away in a flutter of tiny feathers.
What the—? Where had that come from? I knew body manipulation spells existed, using the raw materials of magical flesh to add something, but they were notoriously hard to pull off. Especially viable ones that could make a person friggin’ fly! Maybe it was the fact that Melody had a bodyguard, or the vibe she gave off, but I hadn’t expected her to be formidable. She seemed the type of girl to need protection, not be the protector. What other tricks did she have up her fluffy sleeves?
“This is—”
“—ridiculous!” The twins threw a temper tantrum, now that things weren’t going their way.
“We’re famous magicals,” Shailene complained.
“We deserve to be let in!” Fay scowled at the building. I imagined they were used to having the red carpet rolled out for them. Welcome to the real world, kiddos.
Oliver nodded. “Why isn’t magic working? What kind of joke is this place?”
My mind cogs whirred as the others got back into it, giving the task all the brute force and magical attacks they possessed. They didn’t understand. This was a puzzle, a riddle. If it was as simple as using impressive magic, then it wouldn’t have been much of a game, now, would it?
I walked around the right side of the monastery and headed down the wall.
Rounding the corner, I noticed another door. Smaller than the main one, and less obvious than the side door Blanche had commandeered with her Ice tricks. Ivy that looked like it’d been growing there for centuries sprawled across it. The leaves were massive. I crouched and waited for inspiration to strike. It didn’t look like anything special. Solid metal, with a narrow gap at the bottom and a thin outline where it fit into the doorframe. I’d seen a million doors like it.
I waited for the next siren to pass before I edged closer, then pushed aside the swathe of ivy to find the keyhole. Sticking my eye right up to the hole, I frowned. I should’ve been able to see right through into the room beyond. But something blocked my line of sight.
All of the doors only open from the inside…
I slammed my palms into the door, and something jostled slightly. It was a key. The business end of it, blocking the hole.
A shiver of excitement pulsed through me as I put my hand on the door and fed a thin tendril of Telekinesis into the hole. I waited for it to grasp the end of the key, feeling for that familiar tug. But it didn’t come. My Telekinesis skirted right past the key, like oil and water repelling each other. Whatever had stopped the diamond from cutting the glass and the gemstones from breaking affected this keyhole, too. Magic wasn’t an option in any way, shape, or form.