After the meeting with Vasco things had moved at an alarming pace. Codi found herself signing a mountain of forms and wavers agreeing to all the various terms of competing in the Gauntlet. Some were financial wavers, penalties should she abandon the program, others disclosure agreements, most of it designed to keep someone in the competition. That suited her fine; she had nowhere else to go.

Only one clause in particular grabbed her attention – a frightening but not unexpected requirement to accept the possibility of grievous injury in the competition itself, leaving the organising powers-that-be unaccountable if anything serious happened.

Eventually after navigating the layers of bureaucracy she was shown to her new accommodation within the academy itself, situated on the middle floor. Her first thought: it wasn’t much of a step up from her previous situation. Vasco swung the small, steel-coloured door open revealing a chamber not unlike a prison cell.

The bed glared at her from the far corner, a featureless white rectangle with the duvet and sheets neatly folded. Just inside the door to the right a chair and desk were positioned, and along the far wall was a wardrobe made of grey painted wood. A tiny door in the left hand wall opened off into a cubicle containing a toilet and shower. Despite the unremarkable nature of her new living space, Codi was gratified to note the presence of a telescreen built into the wall above the desk.

“Don’t get any ideas, kid,” Vasco grunted, seeing her eyeing the screen. “It’s not linked to the planet net. You’ll be watching what I tell you to watch.”

“Wow, you’re a regular little dictator, aren’t you?” she returned. He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and turned away, back into the corridor. She followed him through the gridiron arrangement of corridors till they reached a large canteen area, with six tables arranged symmetrically. A kitchen area joined on to the canteen at the far end with two large fridges, an oven and a sink.

“This is where you’ll have your meals,” he said, gesturing to the area with a wave of his hand. “Three a day, and better than the slop that orphanage will have been feeding you. Breakfast is seven-thirty sharp every morning. Sleep in and you’ll be training on an empty stomach. Understand?”

Codi rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “So how many other kids are in this place with me then?”

“Four.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. What were you expecting, a damned army?”

“Not quite,” she snapped. “But that means you’ve only got enough of us to field one team.”

“True enough.” Vasco nodded. “But one team is all we need. If we start the tournament with five then the rules say all competitors are eligible even if there is an injury or withdrawal.”

“But some of the big academies have four or five whole teams!”

“What do you want from me?” he growled. “I can only work with what I’ve got. This dump of a training centre barely has the gear to train a single team in the first place. We couldn’t afford any more competitors if we wanted to.” Rounding, he motioned with his head back the way they’d come. “Now since you’re so interested, it’s time to meet the rest of the team.”

Codi fell into step behind him as he led her back to the elevator. Once inside he punched the button marked with a large blue “B.” From its position on the panel she assumed that meant the basement. Vasco said nothing during the brief decent and all she could do was shift her weight uncomfortably as she waited to be introduced to the four individuals who would be her training partners.

The elevator door slid open again, revealing a short corridor leading into an immense open space, and it was then Codi realised the kind of monetary expenditure that went into a Gauntlet training academy. Walking alongside Vasco, she let her gaze wander around the basement arena in awe.

The entire level had been essentially converted into one gigantic gym, with treadmills, weights, assault courses, training dummies and even a swimming pool built into the far end. Racks of Gauntlet weaponry littered the place, ranging from heavy dark cudgels, to quarter staffs to bolas. And she could see the four individuals of her team in training.

She watched as a tall, lanky boy hurled a bolas from twenty yards away and overshot the training dummy he was aiming for. Instead the weapon smashed into a stack of dumbbells and sent the whole lot crashing to the ground. His curse of frustration echoed across the basement. Not far from him a girl with deeply tanned skin and thick black hair struggled unsuccessfully to scale a rope net in one of the obstacle courses. Two other male competitors completed the grouping, the pair sparring with cudgels on a square of padded mats.

“And here we are,” Vasco declared. “The main training centre.” Waving to the others, he cupped the other hand around his mouth and yelled at them to drop what they were doing and come over. As the group assembled in a line Codi appraised them dubiously. The training centre looked the part, but its occupants left a lot to be desired. They all looked around her age, give or take a year or two, and none of them looked particularly formidable. The Gauntlet champions she’d seen were physical powerhouses, perfect and unblemished in every way, the ultimate combat machines.

To her surprise, she felt Vasco’s hand on her shoulder as he spoke. “Alright everybody, meet the last member of our Gauntlet team. This is Codi James.”

They looked at her and she sized them up in turn as introductions began. The boy who’d thrown the bolas was identified as Max. He was easily the tallest of the group by a head at least, with a short unkempt blotch of blond hair sitting above lazy, languid features. His body didn’t seem to have caught up with itself, however, as his frame was almost skeletal. At least he managed to smile at her though.

The girl with tanned skin, Lita, gave her an unimpressed look, folding her arms and meeting her eyes without blinking once. With the tight fitting leggings and tank top she wore, Codi could see the girl was averagely built, but not well muscled. Just another kid thrown into the grinder. With specimens like these it was no wonder Kantha’s competitors never progressed far.

“And these are Lucas and Lazlo,” Vasco said, indicating the final two. Codi blinked in surprise when she realised that the stocky pair were identical twins, both sporting intense fire-blue irises and mops of brown hair. They exchanged looks before both giving her a courteous nod. She considered nodding back, but before she could decide Vasco continued talking.

“Alright everyone, now that we’ve got a full team it’s time to go over some things,” he began. “Our proper training regimen starts up tomorrow morning. You all know breakfast is at half seven, so I want you down here for eight, ready to go. From then we’ll train till twelve o’clock, where you’ll have an hour for lunch. For two hours after that we’ll have theory.”

“Theory?” Codi interrupted incredulously.

Vasco’s glare could have set a man on fire. “Yes, theory. Believe it or not, kiddo, there’s a bit more to this than just brawling like a bunch of drunken lunatics. You have to study opponents, strategies, combat techniques, and the operation of the Gauntlet itself – rules, regulations and categories. Fighting is only half the job.”

She made a noncommittal sound and allowed him to continue.

“After theory, we’ll train till six p.m. You’ll have another hour to eat then an hour of fitness, followed by an hour of individual practice. The last hour of the day is yours to do what you want with. Then everyone is in bed and lights out by ten o’clock. Next morning we rinse and repeat. Everybody clear on that?” A mumble of ascent from the others greeted him. “Good. Right, the rest of you, as you were. Codi, come with me. Let’s get you settled.”

As the others made their way back to the training equipment she caught Max glancing back over his shoulder at her. Upon seeing her looking back, he averted his gaze as though ashamed and trudged back to the bolas. Codi smirked and turned away, following Vasco back to the elevator and all the way to the bedroom he’d shown her earlier.

She’d been carrying her holdall the entire time, and only now did she get the chance to fling it onto the bed and sit down heavily. Upon hitting the mattress the lack of sleep seemed to wash over her like a tide and she let out a cavernous yawn. Standing leaning on the doorframe, Vasco inclined his head to the wardrobe.

“There’s clothing in there for you. One size fits all, more or less.”

“So that’s me? It’s official?” she asked.

“Yep, you’re officially enrolled in the Gauntlet training program.” He exhaled a long breath, then to her surprise, beamed a smile at her. “I guess I should say welcome to Brax-Delta, kid. I’ll get Holly to bring some food up for you. Take the day, settle in and catch up on some sleep. You’re going to need it.”