“I’m not sure,” said Casey. “I see what you’re saying, but look what happened at the beach today. There’s something about climbers that force them to fight one another, like a violent magnetic pull.”

She then smiled. “But you’re right, this island and this sight of the ocean is pretty.”

They stood there in silence as the campfire flickered in front of them.

“So, after all this,” said Casey. “Are you excited for the winter ball?”

Max’s eyebrows perked up at this.

He remembered the instructor pointing out that the winter ball would follow the midterms, but he had been so focused on passing the exam that he really hadn’t given the winter ball a passing thought.

“You know, I haven’t thought too much about it,” admitted Max. “Are you going to go?”

Casey’s face fell and Max suddenly felt like he’d said the wrong thing. He’d never gone to any of the dances back at his old school in the outer-rim. He wasn’t sure of the proper etiquette. Did people still ask people to go to the dance with them?

“I figured I might as well,” said Casey, answering his initial question. “There might be more information on the following term and the final exam.”

“Yeah, maybe we can go investigate together,” Max suggested.

Casey’s face brightened at that.

“Do you mean like a—”

Rustle, rustle.

Both Max and Casey went dead silent.

Max stood on his feet. He gestured for Casey to guard the candles.

He was going to investigate the noise.

* * *

Reginald Booth clambered up the summit hill of the island in the dark.

He tried to stay silent but it was no use with his two noisy companions behind him.

“Why are we going up here anyway?” whispered one.

“Because the boss says so,” said another.

Reginald’s two companions were two knuckleheads by the name of Ash and Resin. It seemed like very odd names to give to children but he knew nothing much about them other than that they were sixteen-year-old body guards meant to protect Cyrus Archer while at school.

Such was his job as well. Except the difference between him and the two loud idiots behind him was that the Booth family had been the Archer’s butlers, servicemen, and bodyguards for over a century.

He was trained in the art of killing. More than that, he was raised to enjoy it and that he did.

Why Samuel had decided Cyrus needed more protection while going through the trials of the academy was a mystery to him? More than that it was an affront to the work of him and his family.

But what could he do? Orders were orders.

And tonight’s order from Cyrus was to hunt down the kid from the outer-rim and his little fake-vein friend.