For Kypriotha: Maze Runners, PG
Dec 24, 2015 6:00:53 GMT 10
Tamari, kitsunerei88, and 1 more like this
Post by Seek on Dec 24, 2015 6:00:53 GMT 10
Title: Maze Runners
Rating: PG
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: 3. Tortall/HP cross over
Summary: Kel, Neal, and their batchmates take part in an Auror training exercise.
Notes and Warnings: This started off as a short drabble and ballooned into something weird. Hope you enjoy this all the same, Kyp!
-
Kel breathed out her nervousness and waited for the countdown to end.
Beside her, Neal muttered, “Remind me why I quit mediwizard training again?” He had gone quite pale—almost green—as he gripped his wand, white-knuckled and knelt beside her to present a smaller profile.
Don’t assume, Kel thought. It was one of Wyldon Cavall’s favourite sayings, and it was something they’d learned to take to heart by now, after two years of basic training. The Maze was a standard course that all Auror trainees had to run repeatedly, and for all Kel knew, there were other ways to detect a trainee’s location than just using a levitation charm and peering over the walls.
Aloud, she replied, “Because a Queenscove, you said, has always served as an Auror, and you thought it was your turn.”
“Well, I’m regretting it now,” Neal muttered. “Whose idea of fun is this anyway? Sending us into a maze and seeing how long it takes for the actual Aurors to hunt us down?”
“Does it matter?” Kel wanted to know. “And hush.”
Neal raised an eyebrow. “Of course it matters,” he said, loftily. “Seeing as I can’t do anything about this wonderful idea of having us run around blindly like mice—”
“We’re not that helpless, you know.”
“—I rather thought I’d at least have fun imagining all the things I want to do to whoever who thought this up.”
Kel gave up and put her hand over his mouth, stifling all further comment. Neal glared at her; she shrugged unapologetically.
Over the Maze, a shower of green sparks erupted. That would’ve been Wyldon, Kel knew, declaring the beginning of the exercise. She looked at Neal. “Are you ready to start being a trainee now?” she demanded.
Neal’s words were garbled by her hand. She took away her hand.
“What if I said ‘no’?” Neal wanted to know.
Kel said, simply, “Then I’d drag you along by your ear until you start to behave. Which is it going to be?”
“I’ll be good,” Neal muttered, disgruntled. He stretched, still keeping low. “Who’s going first?”
“I am,” Kel said. “Watch our backs.”
Neal didn’t respond. Instead, he moved into position, wand at the ready. Kel produced her own wand from within the protective vest she wore, and nodded to him. Making her own effort to keep low, she moved forward. For all Neal’s talk, she thought, there was no one else she’d rather have at her back, running the Maze against the clock, and against the Aurors out there, beginning to hunt them.
-
Merric opened his mouth to say something.
“Shut up,” Faleron breathed. His wand was in his hand, and he swore he heard movement up ahead, where the passage of the Maze turned sharply left. The Disllusionment Charm was concealing both of them, but he couldn’t do much for sound, and if they were going up against someone like Lindhall Reed, they were screwed. Lindhall knew all sorts of ways to break concealment charms.
Far more than even the coursebooks hinted at.
Merric obediently kept his mouth shut and glared at his cousin. That was another downside of the Disillusionment Charm: it was hard to make out where Merric began and where the Maze ended.
Go? Merric signed.
Exasperated, Faleron signed for him to wait, as he thought through their options. There were too many possibilities, Faleron thought. He didn’t know what he should do. If they kept inching forward, they could run into a trap or an ambush, but they couldn’t just stand around here either…
At last, Merric made a sound of impatience. I’ll go, he signed. He slipped on past him and headed towards the intersection—and then Faleron heard his cousin cry out.
There was a flare of light and a slamming sound as Merric seemed to have run headlong into someone—or something. “Stupefy!” someone shouted, just as he heard Merric cry out the Disarming Charm.
A blaze of golden light erupted as the Stunner slammed into the protective material of the absorption vest they all wore; Faleron stood stock-still, hardly daring to breathe. Above the Maze hung an image—much like a holographic projection—of Merric’s face and name.
MERRIC HOLLYROSE, it read.
A few moments later, he heard Wyldon call out, “Merric Hollyrose is out.”
Faleron cursed, wished he’d made a better decision, and pressed his back against the wall of the Maze and waited.
-
“Did you hear that?” Seaver whispered, right after Wyldon’s announcement.
Zahir ibn Alhaz glanced distastefully at him. “Who didn’t?” he wanted to know. He crouched down, and cast a tracking spell. He’d been doing that at regular intervals: why, Seaver didn’t know, and he was almost too afraid to ask. Zahir had simply glared at him and sniffed the last time Seaver’d asked.
“Well, I guess they were caught,” Seaver muttered, awkwardly. “Guess Faleron escaped, though.”
“Perhaps,” Zahir said. He straightened up, his task done. “Come.”
Seaver wished he’d drawn a better partner. Kel, he thought enviously, had hit the jackpot with Neal: she certainly seemed to get along really well with the obnoxious Queenscove, but as far as Seaver was concerned, the only worse partner he could’ve ended up with was Joren Stonemountain. At least Joren didn’t treat him like scum stuck to his shoe.
“Look,” he said, refusing to move. “I get it that I’m not really the partner you wanted, but could you at least work with me here? I don’t want to fail this exercise.”
Zahir’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I want to fail?” he retorted.
“You’re treating me like baggage,” Seaver said. “Or a burden. Like you just got saddled with me and are intent on dragging me throughout the entire Maze until we both win.”
Zahir studied him and said nothing.
“Well?” Seaver demanded.
“You are right,” Zahir said, grudgingly. “I…may have been too focused on the task at hand.” He shook his head. “Come on, then.”
If it was an offer of truce, Seaver thought, it was the poorest offer he’d ever heard; utterly grudging, and almost entirely ignoring him. “Not until you decide we’re working together.”
Zahir’s sharp exhale was the only sign of his exasperation. “Are we going to stand here until the hunters are upon us?”
Seaver shrugged. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?” he remarked, wisely. “As I see it, they’re going to catch us anyway if we aren’t going to work together.”
-
“Seriously?” Owen Jesslaw gasped.
“Shut up and keep running,” Esmond Nicoline retorted, as they hightailed it away from the screeching and flashing alarm. “How do you not think before you trigger traps, Jesslaw?”
“You’d have done the same,” Owen managed to retort, as they kept running. Esmond threw himself down in time to dodge a Stunner aimed over their heads, and even recovered by rolling and coming back to his feet.
“No,” Esmond replied, rolling his eyes. “It was obviously a trap; the tiles were discoloured. I knew I should’ve taken point.”
“Save it for later,” Owen said. “Besides, you have to admit this is pretty jolly.” He aimed a Bombardment Charm back behind them and was rewarded by the sound of shattering floor-tiles.
“Running for our lives? Great,” Esmond managed, “Now you’ve just told every single Auror in this maze where we are. You want a Firecracker Charm to go with it? Protego!” The Stunner ricocheted across the shield Esmond hastily erected at his own back.
Owen grinned, barely apologetic. “Tell me you’re not enjoying yourself.”
“I’m not!”
It was Owen’s turn to glance back and jerk away from an incoming Stunner. “Persistent,” he said, firing a Disarming Charm at their pursuers. Ezeko deflected that with contemptuous ease.
Esmond groaned. “We’re screwed,” he said.
-
Back to back, Roald Conté and Cleon Kennan fought. Roald made it a habit to work with most of his fellow trainees; he told himself the last thing he wanted to be was so familiarised with one particular trainee that he couldn’t work with anyone else.
Still, if he had to choose who he’d like to be backed into a corner with, he thought, he wouldn’t have minded it being Cleon Kennan. The large trainee was easygoing and quick with his spells, easily countering most of the jinxes and charms that Anders Mindelan was throwing at them.
Roald allowed himself a tight grin as he performed a counter-jinx and then followed up with a doubled-up Stunner.
Imrah Legann was considered one of the foremost strategists in the Aurors and Roald was beginning to understand why; duelling Legann was like playing a game of chess five moves in advance, only to learn that your opponent was seeing ten moves ahead of you.
Already, Imrah had almost manuevered him into Cleon’s line of fire, causing him to block and absorb a Disorientation Jinx from his partner. If it hadn’t been for Cleon’s quick recovery, Roald might’ve fallen there and then.
Imrah blocked the first Stunner with ease and blinked in surprise as the second slammed into his vest, causing it to flare golden.
“Two Stunning spells?” he said, aloud. “Very nice trick, Mr Conté. It looks like a single spell from the vantage point of the defender.”
The holographic image of Imrah Legann flashed overhead. A few moments later, the announcement came. “Imrah Legann is out.”
Roald offered him an apologetic grin and moved in to help Cleon with Anders.
-
“Anders Mindelan is out,” came the announcement.
Neal raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kel. She shrugged. I didn’t know, she mouthed. It was true: she hadn’t known that Anders had come back, much less that he was involving himself with the trainees of their batch.
She wondered if it was because of her, but dismissed the thought. Anders had his own reasons and priorities, and no doubt most of them had nothing to do with his younger sister.
They came to an intersection: a junction, with the choice to turn left or right. She glanced over at Neal, who shrugged.
Don’t ask me, he mouthed, slowly and exaggeratedly, for her benefit. He was teaching her to read lips, but she was far off from being as proficient at it as Neal was. You’re the one leading us.
Kel thought about it, and picked the right turn, marking the maze wall with a dot of pale blue fire, that vanished as soon as it was cast. No sense in leaving their navigational markers out there for their teachers to see.
She moved slowly, peering around the corner to keep from compromising their position.
It was then she saw it: a flash of movement. She held up a hand, gesturing for Neal to stop. He did.
“Point me hostages,” Neal hissed, beside her.
His wand spun about on his open palm, and eventually settled on the direction she’d chosen. “We have to go forward,” he told her, his voice quiet.
Kel cast the Sparrow Tracking Charm and waited, and then held up two fingers. She could see them, she thought. They’d tried to settle for an ambush position where the corridor opened up, thinking to catch unwitting trainees at a natural chokepoint. Although she could only really see the blue sleeve of Dom’s robe, if she was any judge, Dom’d always be working with Raoul Goldenlake, which meant there were two of them. And an ambush would be directly his style.
“Dom,” she said, keeping her voice low. “And likely Raoul.”
Neal sank to the floor. “God,” he murmured. “We’re up against the Giantkiller. The Commander himself.”
Kel’s grin was tight and feral. “Let’s do this,” she said. “You said it yourself: the only way is forward.”
Neal groaned. “I take it back,” he muttered. “Why don’t you conjure up an elephant and have it run over us? That’d be a more merciful way to go.”
She gripped his shoulder. “Neal,” Kel said. “We can do this. We have to do this. We can’t give up now.”
Neal sighed. “I know, I know. But Kel, this is crazy.”
“We can take them,” Kel said. “We just have to play smarter than them.”
Neal buried his face in his hands. “I wish you wouldn’t say that,” he murmured. “As if he were nothing but a play-pretty. Be careful, will you?”
“You too,” Kel said. She gestured to him to take up a position opposite her and inched forward, quietly. Ward spells were difficult to cast; she’d spent many long nights straining and practising, but now, they came with an ease that surprised her. She laid down a line of trap-runes and wards that did nothing more than flash-blind an enemy. She steered clear of sound wards: the moment they clashed, their location would become clear to every other hunter in the maze.
She didn’t see the point in helping them along.
“Neal?”
He made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Disillusionment Charm, please.” He was better at it than she was; he obeyed.
Finally, they resumed their positions on either side of the corridor, turning it into an impromptu choke point. Deliberately, Kel coughed and cast the Voice Projection Charm, throwing her voice a few steps down the corridor.
She saw; the moment Dom peeked, but couldn’t make out anything. She pressed herself against the wall, willing herself not to move.
She made the sound of footsteps; the Voice Projection threw it closer to where Dom lay waiting, and then had them retreat, the perfect lure. Come on, Kel thought. Dom would have to come. He would have to, to make sure that they weren’t creeping forward under concealment charms.
Dom did in fact leave his ambush position with a murmured word to the Giantkiller. He strode down the corridor, slowly, cautiously, his wand out, ready to dispel concealment charms.
Kel nodded to Neal. With his own Voice Projection Charm, he called out, “Stupefy,” as Kel triggered the trap.
Dom staggered and fell as the trap exploded beneath him, the protective vest he was wearing soaking up the force of the blow. It blazed with threads of golden light before throwing up his holographic picture into the air above his position.
A few moments later, Raoul came, cautiously, wand at the ready. He would have to; Kel knew. They’d done their best to give the impression that Dom had been ambushed by a pair of Disillusioned trainees. Dom said nothing: as one of the ‘killed’, he wasn’t permitted to warn his partner, even though he had to have known he was ousted by a trap rather than a Stunner.
As Raoul stepped over a trap, and Neal broke cover and hurled a Stunner at him, Kel triggered the trap.
Raoul was quick; he put up a Protego to deflect the Stunner, but, or so Kel had realised, most people who used the Charm used it to deflect attacks along the horizontal plane: they tended to forget spells could attack from below.
As Raoul was thrown backwards from the trap, Kel cancelled the Disillusionment Charm with a murmured Finite Incantatem. Neal did the same; as their disguise dropped away, Raoul was shaking his head, grinning.
“Very cunning,” he said, cheerfully. “You had us thinking you were farther down than you really were. Using the walls as partial cover, too. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Raoul’s vest blazed, and moments later, his own holographic image appeared in the air.
“Raoul Goldenlake is out,” Wyldon said.
“Don’t mind me,” Raoul said. “I’m just going to sit here and wait for someone to drag me out of the Maze and give me a nice cup of hot coffee and salve my wounded ego,” he grinned at both of them. “Perks of being a full Auror and all. Good luck, Kel. I think you’ve got a good chance of winning this.”
“Good luck,” Dom echoed. “You’ll need it, since you’re dragging Meathead around with you.”
Neal nudged at Dom with the tip of his boot. “Uncivilised lout,” he retorted. “Know that you have been bested by your betters.”
Dom winked at Kel. “Who?” he wanted to know.
Kel elbowed Neal. “C’mon,” she said. “We have to keep moving—that image’s going to drag everyone not tied down over to us.”
Neal gulped. “You’re right,” he said.
Dom offered them a light salute. “Kel’s got a good head on her shoulders,” he said. “Nice to see that at least one of you’s got their priorities right.”
This time, Kel really did drag Neal off before he could make further reply.
Rating: PG
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: 3. Tortall/HP cross over
Summary: Kel, Neal, and their batchmates take part in an Auror training exercise.
Notes and Warnings: This started off as a short drabble and ballooned into something weird. Hope you enjoy this all the same, Kyp!
-
Kel breathed out her nervousness and waited for the countdown to end.
Beside her, Neal muttered, “Remind me why I quit mediwizard training again?” He had gone quite pale—almost green—as he gripped his wand, white-knuckled and knelt beside her to present a smaller profile.
Don’t assume, Kel thought. It was one of Wyldon Cavall’s favourite sayings, and it was something they’d learned to take to heart by now, after two years of basic training. The Maze was a standard course that all Auror trainees had to run repeatedly, and for all Kel knew, there were other ways to detect a trainee’s location than just using a levitation charm and peering over the walls.
Aloud, she replied, “Because a Queenscove, you said, has always served as an Auror, and you thought it was your turn.”
“Well, I’m regretting it now,” Neal muttered. “Whose idea of fun is this anyway? Sending us into a maze and seeing how long it takes for the actual Aurors to hunt us down?”
“Does it matter?” Kel wanted to know. “And hush.”
Neal raised an eyebrow. “Of course it matters,” he said, loftily. “Seeing as I can’t do anything about this wonderful idea of having us run around blindly like mice—”
“We’re not that helpless, you know.”
“—I rather thought I’d at least have fun imagining all the things I want to do to whoever who thought this up.”
Kel gave up and put her hand over his mouth, stifling all further comment. Neal glared at her; she shrugged unapologetically.
Over the Maze, a shower of green sparks erupted. That would’ve been Wyldon, Kel knew, declaring the beginning of the exercise. She looked at Neal. “Are you ready to start being a trainee now?” she demanded.
Neal’s words were garbled by her hand. She took away her hand.
“What if I said ‘no’?” Neal wanted to know.
Kel said, simply, “Then I’d drag you along by your ear until you start to behave. Which is it going to be?”
“I’ll be good,” Neal muttered, disgruntled. He stretched, still keeping low. “Who’s going first?”
“I am,” Kel said. “Watch our backs.”
Neal didn’t respond. Instead, he moved into position, wand at the ready. Kel produced her own wand from within the protective vest she wore, and nodded to him. Making her own effort to keep low, she moved forward. For all Neal’s talk, she thought, there was no one else she’d rather have at her back, running the Maze against the clock, and against the Aurors out there, beginning to hunt them.
-
Merric opened his mouth to say something.
“Shut up,” Faleron breathed. His wand was in his hand, and he swore he heard movement up ahead, where the passage of the Maze turned sharply left. The Disllusionment Charm was concealing both of them, but he couldn’t do much for sound, and if they were going up against someone like Lindhall Reed, they were screwed. Lindhall knew all sorts of ways to break concealment charms.
Far more than even the coursebooks hinted at.
Merric obediently kept his mouth shut and glared at his cousin. That was another downside of the Disillusionment Charm: it was hard to make out where Merric began and where the Maze ended.
Go? Merric signed.
Exasperated, Faleron signed for him to wait, as he thought through their options. There were too many possibilities, Faleron thought. He didn’t know what he should do. If they kept inching forward, they could run into a trap or an ambush, but they couldn’t just stand around here either…
At last, Merric made a sound of impatience. I’ll go, he signed. He slipped on past him and headed towards the intersection—and then Faleron heard his cousin cry out.
There was a flare of light and a slamming sound as Merric seemed to have run headlong into someone—or something. “Stupefy!” someone shouted, just as he heard Merric cry out the Disarming Charm.
A blaze of golden light erupted as the Stunner slammed into the protective material of the absorption vest they all wore; Faleron stood stock-still, hardly daring to breathe. Above the Maze hung an image—much like a holographic projection—of Merric’s face and name.
MERRIC HOLLYROSE, it read.
A few moments later, he heard Wyldon call out, “Merric Hollyrose is out.”
Faleron cursed, wished he’d made a better decision, and pressed his back against the wall of the Maze and waited.
-
“Did you hear that?” Seaver whispered, right after Wyldon’s announcement.
Zahir ibn Alhaz glanced distastefully at him. “Who didn’t?” he wanted to know. He crouched down, and cast a tracking spell. He’d been doing that at regular intervals: why, Seaver didn’t know, and he was almost too afraid to ask. Zahir had simply glared at him and sniffed the last time Seaver’d asked.
“Well, I guess they were caught,” Seaver muttered, awkwardly. “Guess Faleron escaped, though.”
“Perhaps,” Zahir said. He straightened up, his task done. “Come.”
Seaver wished he’d drawn a better partner. Kel, he thought enviously, had hit the jackpot with Neal: she certainly seemed to get along really well with the obnoxious Queenscove, but as far as Seaver was concerned, the only worse partner he could’ve ended up with was Joren Stonemountain. At least Joren didn’t treat him like scum stuck to his shoe.
“Look,” he said, refusing to move. “I get it that I’m not really the partner you wanted, but could you at least work with me here? I don’t want to fail this exercise.”
Zahir’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I want to fail?” he retorted.
“You’re treating me like baggage,” Seaver said. “Or a burden. Like you just got saddled with me and are intent on dragging me throughout the entire Maze until we both win.”
Zahir studied him and said nothing.
“Well?” Seaver demanded.
“You are right,” Zahir said, grudgingly. “I…may have been too focused on the task at hand.” He shook his head. “Come on, then.”
If it was an offer of truce, Seaver thought, it was the poorest offer he’d ever heard; utterly grudging, and almost entirely ignoring him. “Not until you decide we’re working together.”
Zahir’s sharp exhale was the only sign of his exasperation. “Are we going to stand here until the hunters are upon us?”
Seaver shrugged. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?” he remarked, wisely. “As I see it, they’re going to catch us anyway if we aren’t going to work together.”
-
“Seriously?” Owen Jesslaw gasped.
“Shut up and keep running,” Esmond Nicoline retorted, as they hightailed it away from the screeching and flashing alarm. “How do you not think before you trigger traps, Jesslaw?”
“You’d have done the same,” Owen managed to retort, as they kept running. Esmond threw himself down in time to dodge a Stunner aimed over their heads, and even recovered by rolling and coming back to his feet.
“No,” Esmond replied, rolling his eyes. “It was obviously a trap; the tiles were discoloured. I knew I should’ve taken point.”
“Save it for later,” Owen said. “Besides, you have to admit this is pretty jolly.” He aimed a Bombardment Charm back behind them and was rewarded by the sound of shattering floor-tiles.
“Running for our lives? Great,” Esmond managed, “Now you’ve just told every single Auror in this maze where we are. You want a Firecracker Charm to go with it? Protego!” The Stunner ricocheted across the shield Esmond hastily erected at his own back.
Owen grinned, barely apologetic. “Tell me you’re not enjoying yourself.”
“I’m not!”
It was Owen’s turn to glance back and jerk away from an incoming Stunner. “Persistent,” he said, firing a Disarming Charm at their pursuers. Ezeko deflected that with contemptuous ease.
Esmond groaned. “We’re screwed,” he said.
-
Back to back, Roald Conté and Cleon Kennan fought. Roald made it a habit to work with most of his fellow trainees; he told himself the last thing he wanted to be was so familiarised with one particular trainee that he couldn’t work with anyone else.
Still, if he had to choose who he’d like to be backed into a corner with, he thought, he wouldn’t have minded it being Cleon Kennan. The large trainee was easygoing and quick with his spells, easily countering most of the jinxes and charms that Anders Mindelan was throwing at them.
Roald allowed himself a tight grin as he performed a counter-jinx and then followed up with a doubled-up Stunner.
Imrah Legann was considered one of the foremost strategists in the Aurors and Roald was beginning to understand why; duelling Legann was like playing a game of chess five moves in advance, only to learn that your opponent was seeing ten moves ahead of you.
Already, Imrah had almost manuevered him into Cleon’s line of fire, causing him to block and absorb a Disorientation Jinx from his partner. If it hadn’t been for Cleon’s quick recovery, Roald might’ve fallen there and then.
Imrah blocked the first Stunner with ease and blinked in surprise as the second slammed into his vest, causing it to flare golden.
“Two Stunning spells?” he said, aloud. “Very nice trick, Mr Conté. It looks like a single spell from the vantage point of the defender.”
The holographic image of Imrah Legann flashed overhead. A few moments later, the announcement came. “Imrah Legann is out.”
Roald offered him an apologetic grin and moved in to help Cleon with Anders.
-
“Anders Mindelan is out,” came the announcement.
Neal raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kel. She shrugged. I didn’t know, she mouthed. It was true: she hadn’t known that Anders had come back, much less that he was involving himself with the trainees of their batch.
She wondered if it was because of her, but dismissed the thought. Anders had his own reasons and priorities, and no doubt most of them had nothing to do with his younger sister.
They came to an intersection: a junction, with the choice to turn left or right. She glanced over at Neal, who shrugged.
Don’t ask me, he mouthed, slowly and exaggeratedly, for her benefit. He was teaching her to read lips, but she was far off from being as proficient at it as Neal was. You’re the one leading us.
Kel thought about it, and picked the right turn, marking the maze wall with a dot of pale blue fire, that vanished as soon as it was cast. No sense in leaving their navigational markers out there for their teachers to see.
She moved slowly, peering around the corner to keep from compromising their position.
It was then she saw it: a flash of movement. She held up a hand, gesturing for Neal to stop. He did.
“Point me hostages,” Neal hissed, beside her.
His wand spun about on his open palm, and eventually settled on the direction she’d chosen. “We have to go forward,” he told her, his voice quiet.
Kel cast the Sparrow Tracking Charm and waited, and then held up two fingers. She could see them, she thought. They’d tried to settle for an ambush position where the corridor opened up, thinking to catch unwitting trainees at a natural chokepoint. Although she could only really see the blue sleeve of Dom’s robe, if she was any judge, Dom’d always be working with Raoul Goldenlake, which meant there were two of them. And an ambush would be directly his style.
“Dom,” she said, keeping her voice low. “And likely Raoul.”
Neal sank to the floor. “God,” he murmured. “We’re up against the Giantkiller. The Commander himself.”
Kel’s grin was tight and feral. “Let’s do this,” she said. “You said it yourself: the only way is forward.”
Neal groaned. “I take it back,” he muttered. “Why don’t you conjure up an elephant and have it run over us? That’d be a more merciful way to go.”
She gripped his shoulder. “Neal,” Kel said. “We can do this. We have to do this. We can’t give up now.”
Neal sighed. “I know, I know. But Kel, this is crazy.”
“We can take them,” Kel said. “We just have to play smarter than them.”
Neal buried his face in his hands. “I wish you wouldn’t say that,” he murmured. “As if he were nothing but a play-pretty. Be careful, will you?”
“You too,” Kel said. She gestured to him to take up a position opposite her and inched forward, quietly. Ward spells were difficult to cast; she’d spent many long nights straining and practising, but now, they came with an ease that surprised her. She laid down a line of trap-runes and wards that did nothing more than flash-blind an enemy. She steered clear of sound wards: the moment they clashed, their location would become clear to every other hunter in the maze.
She didn’t see the point in helping them along.
“Neal?”
He made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Disillusionment Charm, please.” He was better at it than she was; he obeyed.
Finally, they resumed their positions on either side of the corridor, turning it into an impromptu choke point. Deliberately, Kel coughed and cast the Voice Projection Charm, throwing her voice a few steps down the corridor.
She saw; the moment Dom peeked, but couldn’t make out anything. She pressed herself against the wall, willing herself not to move.
She made the sound of footsteps; the Voice Projection threw it closer to where Dom lay waiting, and then had them retreat, the perfect lure. Come on, Kel thought. Dom would have to come. He would have to, to make sure that they weren’t creeping forward under concealment charms.
Dom did in fact leave his ambush position with a murmured word to the Giantkiller. He strode down the corridor, slowly, cautiously, his wand out, ready to dispel concealment charms.
Kel nodded to Neal. With his own Voice Projection Charm, he called out, “Stupefy,” as Kel triggered the trap.
Dom staggered and fell as the trap exploded beneath him, the protective vest he was wearing soaking up the force of the blow. It blazed with threads of golden light before throwing up his holographic picture into the air above his position.
A few moments later, Raoul came, cautiously, wand at the ready. He would have to; Kel knew. They’d done their best to give the impression that Dom had been ambushed by a pair of Disillusioned trainees. Dom said nothing: as one of the ‘killed’, he wasn’t permitted to warn his partner, even though he had to have known he was ousted by a trap rather than a Stunner.
As Raoul stepped over a trap, and Neal broke cover and hurled a Stunner at him, Kel triggered the trap.
Raoul was quick; he put up a Protego to deflect the Stunner, but, or so Kel had realised, most people who used the Charm used it to deflect attacks along the horizontal plane: they tended to forget spells could attack from below.
As Raoul was thrown backwards from the trap, Kel cancelled the Disillusionment Charm with a murmured Finite Incantatem. Neal did the same; as their disguise dropped away, Raoul was shaking his head, grinning.
“Very cunning,” he said, cheerfully. “You had us thinking you were farther down than you really were. Using the walls as partial cover, too. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Raoul’s vest blazed, and moments later, his own holographic image appeared in the air.
“Raoul Goldenlake is out,” Wyldon said.
“Don’t mind me,” Raoul said. “I’m just going to sit here and wait for someone to drag me out of the Maze and give me a nice cup of hot coffee and salve my wounded ego,” he grinned at both of them. “Perks of being a full Auror and all. Good luck, Kel. I think you’ve got a good chance of winning this.”
“Good luck,” Dom echoed. “You’ll need it, since you’re dragging Meathead around with you.”
Neal nudged at Dom with the tip of his boot. “Uncivilised lout,” he retorted. “Know that you have been bested by your betters.”
Dom winked at Kel. “Who?” he wanted to know.
Kel elbowed Neal. “C’mon,” she said. “We have to keep moving—that image’s going to drag everyone not tied down over to us.”
Neal gulped. “You’re right,” he said.
Dom offered them a light salute. “Kel’s got a good head on her shoulders,” he said. “Nice to see that at least one of you’s got their priorities right.”
This time, Kel really did drag Neal off before he could make further reply.