As Erebus walked with Zornitsa to their next lesson, Zornitsa helped him come up with a plan.
"The Lead students all hate me for jumping ahead of them," she said. "So we'll have to go at night. I think I know the way..."
They rounded the corner and were confronted by three boys wearing the Tin insignia. Erebus knew he had met them the other night, and he half recognised them from his classes, but hadn't picked up their names yet.
"We challenge you!" said one of them, a lanky boy with long black hair.
"All three of us, a combined challenge!" said another, short with a very square jaw.
"Name it!" the third said. He had spiked blonde hair and wore the sleeves of his robes rolled up.
Erebus looked uncertainly at Zornitsa. "What's a combined challenge?"
"You name something challenging," said Zornitsa, "like swimming to the bottom of the lake and back, or riding a dragon, or turning a mouse into mammoth. If they can do it, they win. If you can't do, you lose."
"What makes that a joint challenge?" asked Erebus.
"We get to work together as much as we want, and if any one of us beats you, we all get a point," said the lanky boy.
"That doesn't sound very fair," said Erebus. "You're just ganging up on me."
"It actually works out in your favour," said Zornitsa. "You're currently on two points for beating Al. You'll make up to six more if you beat all of these chumps. They can only get two points each from you at most."
"So I can just name anything I know they can't do and then win?" Erebus reflected on the differences in syllabus between the two schools. "Like, um, I bet none of you can change a hedgehog into a pincushion."
"Is that your challenge?" asked the short boy.
"It is not his challenge," said Zornitsa turning to Erebus. "If you say that, they'll just go away and learn the spell and come back. Say something more vague."
All through his next class, Erebus mulled over the challenge. Zornitsa sat next to him with her copy of A Challenger's Rules of Engagement between them. It was his first Technik class, and he barely listened to Professor Gewäsch expound on the different adverse magical reactions experienced with electrical devices compared with cogwork devices. Instead he flicked through Zornitsa's book trying to take in the different rules of engagement for this next challenge.
"And why, Mr Flint, would you not trust a videocamera to record a spell being cast?" the Professor asked suddenly.
"Uh," said Erebus. The other students looked at him. "I mean, because it wouldn't work?"
"And why would it not work?"
"Because it uses electricity?"
"And why would the magic interfere with the workings of electricity?" Professor Gewäsch was as insistent as Erebus was unsure.
"I mean, I'm not sure..." Erebus began.
"If you are unsure, rather than wasting our time," said the professor, "pay attention and learn something. Magic relies on the irrationality principle while electricity relies on rational functioning."
Erebus scrawled his notes intensely as he tried to soak in the explanations.
"In 1917, my father Hans Gewäsch attempted to wield the first and only electrified wand. The wand turned into a bad tempered parrot and my father turned into a fine paste that covered the entire library. Many fine books were damaged irreversibly and I have never been able to eat pâté since that day."
The entire class looked on in shock.
"There are some experiments," continued the professor, "of which it is best to have an assistant attempt at a safe distance."
After the class, the trio followed Erebus back to the tower.
"Don't take too long," said the spike-haired boy. "It's no fun to win by default."
"You can always forfeit," said the square-jawed boy. "You don't need to go up a division like we do."
"Just give up already," said the lanky boy.
Erebus thought over what he was certain the boys wouldn't know how to do already. If they'd only just learned the tongue-tying curse, he was certain they wouldn't know any better ways to silence anything, and Gewäsch's story of the parrot had given him an idea…
"Okay, it'll be a transfiguration challenge. What's the least amount of time I can give you?"
"For something that vague? Seven days," said the square-jawed boy. "You sure you don't want to be more specific?"
Erebus liked the sound of a week without being challenged. "No, seven days is good. So I just reveal the challenge on the day?"
"Yeah," grumbled the lanky boy. "But we'll be watching you the whole time."
"Don't lose your wand again!" threatened the spike-haired boy. Erebus instinctively felt for it in its holster.
For the rest of the day, Erebus was on edge, peering constantly over his shoulder. He spent a Herbology class absent-mindedly harvesting Valerian root. Then another Alchemy class, where Erebus shared Ditte's book as they studied holding circle patterns.
After he was done, he ran back to the safety of the dormitories. The got back first and the room was empty. The fire was roaring and the dinner table was already set out. He grabbed a bowl of something violet and chewy and sat in an armchair overlooking a window, its back to the rest of the room. From the window he could see the great caldera lake. He gazed out and tried to process the day while eating the unidentifiable food. It had been a long two days and so soon he found himself curling up and drifting off to sleep. He dreamed of the basement full of of caged erklings shrieking out his secrets.
"So when we going to Legilimens him?" said a voice that Erebus recognised as the lanky boy. The moon was now high over the lake and the sky dark.
"After the class," said the voice of one of the other challengers, the short one. "We need to see whether he can Occlumens first."
"He barely beat Aladár," said the third. "We've got this in the bag."
Erebus waited until they had left for bed before leaving the armchair. He looked around the dark room and listened carefully. He heard steps besides him. Turning wildly around, he saw Zornitsa in pyjamas and dressing gown.
"There you are!" she said. "Are you ready?"
"Now?" he said.
"Let's go free some erklings!"