"That settles it," said Minho, after a few moments had passed.
"We have to check it out," Trace agreed, already searching for any loose rocks lying nearby. She wasn't going to sit this one out; she wanted to help 'discover' the Griever hole.
"What's going on?" Thomas asked, feeling a little left behind.
"Either these Grievers are excellent magicians, or there's something fishy about this cliff. I'm betting on the latter," Minho explained.
"I'm betting on the former," said Trace. "I reckon these Grievers have been practising their magic every waking hour. I bet they have a secret magicians club, where they formulate the best tricks and practise them to perfection, getting better and better each day. I think they strive to become better magicians so that one day they can perform the best magic show known to man and woman. To impress us. To impress the world, one trick at a time."
"Trace..." Minho warned. But there was no stopping her now.
"They're probably working towards Nationals as we speak. They put their best team members forward to impress the nation at the National Magic Show. Last year the Beetle Blades beat them, but this year they want to come out on top. To prove they can do it. To prove it, not only to their competitors, but to themselves. To win the hearts of the nation."
There was a moment of stunned silence as Trace concluded her speech.
"I think you might be right," said Thomas and, although he was very obviously joking, Trace appreciated his support.
"I think you're both in shucking need of some serious therapy. Bring those rocks over, Trace."
Trace scooped up the pile she'd collected and sat at the very edge of the Cliff.
This would be a terrible way and time to die, she thought. Then again, I'd never have to meet Teresa, so there's that.
She threw the first rock over the edge and they all watched it plummet down, down, and further down until it disappeared from sight. Not the Griever hole.
"Darn it," she muttered. She wanted to get this done as quickly as possible so she could get back to the Glade and hopefully prepare for a night of Griever-induced panic.
So she tried again, launching the rock a little further from her this time, but frowning in frustration as it fell further and further, just like the first rock.
The third rock was a success. She threw it at a distance about a metre from the Cliff edge, and gasped as it fell for a split second before disappearing entirely.
She'd found the Griever hole.
"What the hell was that?" Thomas asked.
Minho held a notepad in his hand, where he'd apparently been noting the locations of each rock fall. Trace supposed that was a good idea. It was probably that kind of thing that made him Keeper of the Runners in the first place.
"Do it again," Minho muttered, disbelieving. Trace threw a rock at the exact same point, finding the exact same result; the rock disappeared.
"We've thrown stuff before," Minho pondered. "Nothing's ever disappeared."
"Maybe you just didn't throw anything in that spot," Thomas suggested. "We should find out the size of it."
So Trace and Thomas continued to throw rocks over the edge, while Minho noted the parameters of the Griever hole. It was smaller than Trace anticipated, but definitely big enough for a Griever to squeeze through.
YOU ARE READING
Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)
Fanfiction--Book one in the Subject A250 series-- She's read the books. She's seen the movies. She knows all there is to know about the storyline. Except for her role in it.
