Page 60 of The Amber Sunburst

But then he blinks and there they all are, sitting in front of him.

“Hello, Lazarus,” they say together in an unsettling monotone.

He’s losing time, he’s panicking, he’s going insane.

Except when he blinks again, they’re gone. There are still ten minutes until the meeting, and twenty minutes before the theme is announced.

Did he just hallucinate? Is that who he is now: a crazy person who hallucinates? He can’t be a leader. He can’t even think straight. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t breathe.

He barely registers when Zeno enters, unaccompanied by his usual crew.

When Zeno sees him, he does a double-take, walks right over, and holds both sides of Lazarus’ head.

Zeno is going to kill him. Bash his skull against the desk and become Cohort Leader himself.

Is it bad that all Lazarus can feel is relief?

“Lazarus,” Zeno says. “You are going to be okay.”

Oh.

“You need to breathe. You need to remember that you are going to be okay.”

“Why are you helping me?” Lazarus whispers.

“Because you’re my friend,” Zeno responds, like it’s obvious.

Zeno might be the only person in the world who has ever said that to him.

“You have five minutes before everyone else walks in. For those five minutes, you are going to breathe with me, okay?”

Right. Breathing.

“Okay.”

So he breathes.

The five minutes pass quickly, but he feels more grounded than before. He can greet his peers individually as they take their seats. He can answer their questions and ask about their days. And then he can get started.

“In ten minutes,” he begins, reciting the speech he’s been practicing in the bathroom mirror for days, “we are going to be granted the theme of the first Trial. The theme is not going to tell us what the task is, but it will offer a significant hint. The Educator will only announce it once, so everyone take it down in your books and I’ll do the same on the board.”

He quickly adds, “For now, feel free to chat,” to endear himself to them.

During the designated chatting time, Alexander and Kallias rush into the room late. They have circles under their eyes, like they haven’t slept properly in days.

Maybe they’re as stressed as he is.

The intercom buzzes.

Everything goes silent.

“Auxiliaries,” the Educator says over the room’s slightly muffled speaker. Lazarus scrambles for a piece of chalk. “I will be brief. Your clue for the first Trial is: Only through light can darkness truly be revealed. Only through wisdom can one see their own ignorance. Only those who have left the cave can understand the simplicity of life inside it.”

He clears his throat. “May the Forms grant you wisdom in Justice.”

“The Allegory of the Cave,” Alexander blurts immediately.

Kleitos scoffs. “Well done, Captain Obvious.”