Jeopardy: The Fourth Quarter Quell

Gauntlet - Volt

Volt

The ceiling is a really nice shade of navy, scattered with twinkling little lights like stars or a township in the distance.

The lights fade, the buzzing in my head stops and I compute what just actually happened. My brain very helpfully sums it up in one word: ouch.

"Well, that was a great idea," I say to myself, heaving myself onto my knees. It sounds like my voice is coming from a long way away, and my breathing is more like gasps. My back feels like it should be broken, even though I didn't fall that far. Not even all my height.

The instructor gazes down at me, completely apathetic. Her hair is chopped into a very severe frame and her eyes are yellow. I blink in case that's just a trick of the fall or the light, but no. They're definitely yellow. And there's not a flicker of compassion in them.

Looks like I'm helping myself up, then.

I struggle to my feet, wincing as my back protests. The Gauntlet stretches in front of me, the padded beams and the instructors' clubs suddenly looking so much more menacing now I've fallen off them. Still, I may as well have another go. I've got nothing better to do, and the others are all scattered around, nobody looking at me. There's a continuous, annoying bleeping from where the girl from Eleven, a tiny girl with her hair in a messy fuzz around her face, is pressing buttons on the plant match-up machine. The timer is counting down and she seems to be pressing at random.

I hobble over to the front of the course again, readying myself. The instructors fix their beady little eyes on me, and I'd swear that they're all glinting sadistically. If sadistically is a word. I get the uncomfortable feeling that they're looking at my arms. The kit is skin-tight, uncomfortably so, and it feels like my muscles are all on show. Good for getting a bit of attention from the ladies, but not for when the Careers are looking for targets.

The beams aren't that high. I fell off the top one, or nearly the top one, and all I've got is an ache in my back. I can definitely do this.

Without warning the instructors, I sprint onto the first beam.

Immediately, I'm being battered from my left, padded blows raining out of nowhere. I try to ignore them and concentrate on my feet instead. The gaps between the beams are almost a stride but they're steadily rising upwards and I have to jump to reach them. The trick to this is to stay quick but my breath is short and my legs feel tired already and I'm not even at the top yet...

Something collides with my head and the next second I'm looking at the ceiling again. The stars are back.

"You okay there?" asks a voice. Female. A head hovers into view, followed by another one. For a moment it's hard to tell which one is the girl and which is the boy; all I can tell is that it's the pair from Seven. Or is it Six? No, it's Six because the pair from Seven are both younger than me.

It seems odd to me to be asking how I am when in a few days they probably won't care, so I lever myself back onto my knees and reply, "Better than I will be in a week." This seems to amuse them, so I feel a small smile creep across my face. Maybe I have potential allies here.

Well, the boy seems to be amused. Now I can see them full length, it’s obvious which is which. Though the boy’s ponytail doesn’t help much.

The girl says, “Are you okay?”

I've already answered that question. Her gaze is odd, like she’s looking through me instead of at me. The tight training kit is baggy around her arms. The Six seal is emblazoned on the side of it, with ‘Tarrin, female’ underneath it. I can't tell if she really cares or not, so I'm slightly apprehensive as I answer, "Yeah. Fine, I think."