Ethen Gearhart's Arc

Chapter 2 of 9

Ethen reached the testing yard at dawn. Other candidates stood in loose rows. The guard who had barred him two days ago stood among the order's officers. He pointed at Ethen and spoke low. Ethen caught only pieces, but he saw the officers frown. He heard the word that mattered. Forged. "That letter is a fake," the guard said, loud now. "A scarred stray walks in carrying a crown seal. Who believes a princess signs for a man like this?" He tapped his own cheek where Ethen's scars ran. "Check it. He forged her name to steal a trial." An officer turned to Ethen. "Serious charge. If the seal is false, we throw you out and send word to the crown." Ethen's gut went tight. He could argue. Arguing proved nothing. The letter spoke for the princess, but her name died the moment doubt stuck. So Ethen chose a different proof. "Don't test the paper," he said. "Test me. Send me in first. A forger runs from the trial. Let me walk into it." The officers looked at each other. The guard opened his mouth, but the senior officer raised a hand. "If you fail, the charge stands and your sponsor pays. Agreed?" Ethen nodded. He hefted his gun and walked toward the arena gate. The trial hall was a broad stone ring. Cages lined the walls. Strange beasts snarled behind the bars. In the center, iron doors shuddered. They opened, and the real test came out. Clockwork monsters poured in, rust eating their plating, broken gears grinding. Flame leaked from their jaws. Their eyes burned yellow. They moved as one rotting mass. Ethen braced his gun against his shoulder. The first beast charged. He fired. The shot tore through its skull and dropped it. Two more came from the side. He turned and fired again, worked the lever, fired. Gears exploded across the floor. He did not run. He walked forward, into them, picking each shot. A monster lunged for his throat. He shoved the barrel into its mouth and pulled the trigger. It fell in pieces at his feet. When the last gear stopped spinning, Ethen stood in the center of the ring. Smoke rose from his gun. The officers watched from the gate above. None of them spoke. The senior officer came down. He looked at the wrecked machines, then at Ethen. "No forger does that," he said. He turned to the guard. "The seal stands. The princess chose well." The guard went pale and said nothing. The officer faced Ethen again. "You passed the beast trial. But passing the entry is not passing the order." He pointed to a stairway at the back of the hall. "The commander wants to meet the stray the princess sponsored. He makes the final call. And he remembers your name." Ethen's hands tightened on the gun. He knew which commander waited above.