A puppy frolicked around the legs of one boy, while a parrot perched on the head of a girl standing next to him. A gecko adorned the arm of a different boy with dark brown hair, and a rabbit scratched its ear with a hind foot on the floor by a red-haired girl. A badger snuffled at the pockets of a boy wearing a long shirt and knee-high boots.
If I was expected to show up with my own animal, this would be a short test indeed.
The adults sitting at the tables on the gymnasium-like floor all had animals, too, although it was difficult to make out what most of them were. Glowing forms sat or perched on some part of their body, slept at their feet, or stood on top of the table itself.
I did see a few kids whodidn’thave an animal, or who had several, not very clear animals. Others had animals so pale and blurry I couldn’t identify them. Two had animals that seemed to wink in and out of existence.
I went back to trying to see what was happening out on the testing floor, but apart from kids raising their hands here and there, or moving their arms in strange ways, I couldn’t make anything out. My sense that the whole test area had been soundproofed grew even more certain. I would occasionally glimpse adults’ lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing, not even distant murmuring.
It felt like I stood there forever.
I shuffled my feet forward along with everyone else, each time the next child in line got called. I’d begun to wonder if I was dreaming, if I might wake up soon, maybe to Archie jumping up and down on my bed.
Then, suddenly, I stood at the front of the line.
Seemingly only a few, short-feeling minutes later, a hand sharply nudged me.
“Go on,” the woman standing there said primly. “Table thirteen.”
I still didn’t see any numbers. By then, I’d watched so many others walk to the same spot on the floor, I simply followed their path.
It would be over soon, I told myself.
Whatever this was,whereverI was, based on the other kids and their tests, it shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.
Tonight, I’d eat cake with my brother and tell him every detail.
I’d also give him the bookshelf model I’d picked up for him last week, after setting aside grocery money for a few weeks prior. It depicted a tiny, magical library with dragons and crystals, scrolls and books, runes and wizards, magic wands and velvet, wing-backed chairs.
Arcturus would adore it.
Even as I thought those things, however, a nagging voice in the back of my mind told me I didn’t really believe any of it.
5
The Test
Only four other circles remained, and one of those winked out while I watched, when I was still a few meters from my own table. Meanwhile, the older adults who’d sat behind those tables also quietly vacated their seats. I felt way too many eyes on me as I closed the last few feet in my school uniform and trainers.
Apart from the occasional squeak of my shoes, it was eerily quiet.
Then I stood in my own circle of light.
It was further from the desk than I’d realized, maybe eight feet.
A smallish man sat there, hands folded. Three blank pieces of paper lay precisely on the table in front of him. Brown bushy hair sprouted from all over his head, seemingly all the same length, making him look a bit like a mad scientist. Despite his narrow shoulders, he had big hands and feet, and an angular face with high cheekbones and a small mouth. A pointed chin elongated his jaw, adorned at the end with an even more pointed brown beard.
His eyes were dark brown, with lighter flecks that looked like stars.
Something round and furry sat at his feet. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, and didn’t want to bend my knees to peer down at it.
The man smiled at me, and it was a kind smile, one that instinctively put me at ease.
Well,moreat ease.
“Name?” he asked politely.
“Leda Rose Shadow,” I said, promptly, that time.
