As I step forward, I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. It’s Iván. Sweat pours from his forehead, plastering his black hair to his temples, and he’s still sucking air. “There’s a hollow in the ground beneath the log, about a third of the way down,” he says, fast and low. “You can use it to get your hands under the log, give yourself better leverage.”

“I . . . Thank you.”

“Recruit Red, what’s the delay?” yells the sergeant, and I hurry to get into place.

“What are we going to do?” Aldo whispers.

“Our best,” I say.

“Not sure that’ll be good enough.”

Everyone in the arena is silent but rapt. Their anticipation is like a taut sail, full of energy, ready to spring a ship from the harbor. Whether we succeed or fail, the crowd will be entertained.

It sparks an idea. “Let’s give everyone a show,” I say.

“Huh?”

“We can’t do this well. Let’s do it wildly.”

Aldo grins.

Sergeant DeLuca raises his hand, sweeps it downward.

We sprint for the sway beam. “Onto my back!” I yell. Aldo doesn’t hesitate. He springs up, arms wrapping my neck while I hook his legs with my elbows. He’s not that heavy—I’ve lifted worse while training with Hector—and I’m able to scramble onto the beam. It sways like an ocean wave, and I’m still a long moment, centering myself. Harsh winds, rough seas, still hearts. Aldo obliges me by being stiff and motionless on my back, as easy a burden as possible.

Carefully I make my way across the beam.

“That’s it, Red, you can do it!” It’s Valentino, and his cheer breaks something loose. Everyone else starts cheering too, even his ducklings. Even the surrounding crowd. It warms me more than I would ever admit aloud.

We reach the end, and I step off, Aldo slipping from my back.

The giant log lies before us.

I slide my hands along its length, looking for the indention Iván mentioned. There. A slope in the earth, hidden by the arena’s deep layer of sand. I dig down until I’m able to get my whole hand and part of my wrist beneath the log. On the other end, Aldo has dug under the log as best he can. He looks at me expectantly. “On three?” he says, and I nod. “One, two, three.”

We grunt and heave, but nothing happens. The log wobbles slightly but does not budge.

The cheering fades.

Then comes Iván’s voice. “You can do it! Try again.”

“Try again!” is echoed all around us. I appreciate the sentiment, but this isn’t a problem we’re going to solve with a good attitude and plucky determination. We are simply not strong enough.

I straighten and stare down at the log in dismay. Failed when we’ve hardly begun. Maybe we should skip this obstacle and at least complete the others. Which is probably against the rules, but surely it would be better than nothing?

My gaze catches on the weapons rack at the arena’s edge. “Aldo! I have an idea!” I sprint toward the rack, and Aldo follows.