“Not very reliable, is he?”

  “Todd’ll be here any second now, just you watch,” said Malcolm.

  Nev yawned. They’d already been waiting ages. Seeing the sun from this angle was a novelty she could live without, but she had to admit, she was intrigued. Todd was the smuggler’s son, as infamous in his own way as his father was in his heyday. Todd’s name was the first on anyone’s lips when they wanted to know the word around town. He made good coin from it too. Not that Nev had ever spoken to the boy. Arrogant people made her teeth squeak.

  Except, last night, at the end of eventide service, Todd had sauntered past her, full of his own importance as usual, and dropped something at her feet. She’d immediately slid her foot over it and only picked it up once he was far enough away not to see her doing so. It was a teeny-tiny, folded square of paper – ‘Arkiveteam – RedOak – sunup’. She wasn’t even sure it was meant for her, but chances were made to be taken (even on appalling grammarians) and so here she was.

  Nev looked past Malcolm and nodded to Ernie. He sat swinging his legs from one of the oak tree’s sturdy branches, his head cocked to one side. “Can’t hear nothing coming yet,” he said.

  “How far away does a person need to be for you to hear them coming?” asked Mal.

  Ernie blinked. “Come again, mate?”

  “Seriously!” said Nev. “Malcolm’s not even six feet away and you still can’t hear him. How’s that a skill?”

  “It’s not that I can’t hear him,” said Ernie, wounded. “I’m trying to listen near and far, see. It takes a while to tune it in. I need more practice. My da knows a chap with all ears. He’s a healer. He can work out what’s up with a man by listening to his hair! Said he’ll train me up, like.” Ernie puffed out his chest.

  “He needs to hurry up and do it then,” snapped Nev. “It’s the archive run in a week.”

  Ernie screwed up his face and focused hard on his left ear which was currently perched in the branches of the rhododendron over by the path. “Nothing yet!” he announced.

  Malcolm chewed at his lip.

  “Still nothing,” said Ernie. He drummed his feet against the tree trunk. “Still nothing!”

  “Maybe you could just tell us when there is something,” said Mal. Ernie’s face dropped. “I mean – No, actually.” Mal corrected himself. “No. You’re keeping us good and notified - that’s important. Yeah, carry on doing that.”

  Nev sighed. She shouldn’t have bothered coming. People who didn’t know their own mind were most definitely not good team prospects. They were a liability at the best of times and downright dangerous the rest.

  “Nothing coming yet! Still nothing! Nope, nothing yet.”

  The climbing sun sent delicious tendrils of warmth down Malcolm’s back. Last night had been the coldest for a long time, cold enough to send Declan into his “Jeez, I’m sweltering act” just so that he could foist his one blanket onto Mal. He was wasting his breath. The ruse didn’t work, not anymore, not since Mal had discovered he felt warmer when he refused the blanket – that’s how thin the damn things were!

  “Nothing yet!” shouted Ernie. Malcolm yawned. He’d have been asleep in a heartbeat if not for the boy’s regular and, thanks to him, increasingly enthusiastic status reports. Nev paced, circling the grove like a caged up grey.

  “Something! Something coming now!” yelled Ernie, almost falling off the branch with excitement – so much for stealth. “Here he is. He’s coming!”

  “Well done. Great listening, mate!” Mal gave Ernie a thumbs up as the boy sped off to reclaim his ear. “See! His skill’s getting better already.”

  “It’s not getting better. He saw him coming.” Nev pointed to the shock of red hair bobbing their way.

  Todd looked uncomfortable. He kept to the shadows of the oak tree, head down, mumbling around the lollipop stick that poked from the corner of his mouth. At least he got straight to the point. “I’m looking for a team. I want stealth skills, combat skills, attributes that are valuable in battle. I’m looking for a team that can make short work of whatever the archive hunt throws up.”

  Malcolm grimaced. Would his Butter-Up skill even count as valuable against the archive? It wasn’t like he had much else to offer. He’d struck enough one-sided deals with Todd over the last few months for that to be more than obvious… Unless Todd thought Malcolm had more of the magic feathers! Was that why he’d asked him along?

  “Stealth skills? Combat skills?” Nev spoke in a quiet, measured voice. “Why yes, I’d very much like to join such a team, but aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, er… Rodd, isn’t it?” She smiled.

  “His name’s Todd!” whispered Mal through gritted teeth. Nev ploughed on.

  “You see, Ted, I’d have thought the main skill we’d all need to do well out of the archive hunt is to be able to get into the archive hunt in the first place.” She looked Todd up and down. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you look about eighteen. You must have had your turn at running the archive years ago.”

  Malcolm felt the confidence drain out of him. He stared at Todd with fresh eyes. Nev was right. Todd was not a newly triggered fifteen-year-old. He couldn’t be. He’d been using his skill to make money in the town centre for at least the last two summers. He could do with a shave for gods’ sake! Why had he never seen it before?

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  Todd laughed. “Nobody told me the legendary -all stone had finally been found, and by one of our very own islanders no less!”

  Nev’s cheeks reddened, but she didn’t back down. “You’re older than fifteen,” she said.

  “Obviously,” said Todd, and it was Malcolm’s turn to blush. “I’m seventeen. I chose my stone two years ago, but I haven’t done an archive run so I’m clear.”

  “Why not?” asked Nev. “Everyone who’s newly triggered runs the archive, so why haven’t you?”

  Mal shuddered and made a mental note never to try hiding anything from Nev. The girl was like a grey with a skill stone in its sights.

  “No sponsor,” said Todd. He stood up straighter and cast his eyes around the group.

  Malcolm let out a low whistle. A person declaring they had no sponsor was pretty much the same as admitting their skill was useless. Everyone with a skill eventually got taken on… No one wanted to miss out on the archive’s bounty. If no one had offered to sponsor Todd, it meant they thought his skill not worth the scroll it was written on. It also meant that Todd had spent the last two years supporting his whole family, to a standard decent enough to afford fancy doctors from Neah, with a skill that every other stone holder on the island considered useless. Maybe there was hope for Mal’s Butter up skill after all.

  “Well, if that’s my interrogation over?” said Todd. “I’d quite like to get on with building this team. I need some decently skilled people around me if I’m gonna come out of that archive loaded with stones!”

  “It’s not over,” said Nev.

  Malcolm winced. The girl couldn’t seem to leave anything be.

  “I’d like to know how you expect to get over to the archives with no official invite?” She waved a square of paper under Todd’s nose. It was quality stuff, no bends or creases. The lettering looked like velvet.

  Todd rubbed together his finger and thumb. “That won't be a problem.” He smirked. “You’d be better off working out how we’re going to get him over.” Todd pointed. Malcolm turned round to see who he was pointing at then groaned.

  “You don’t have an invite?” asked Nev.

  “I didn’t know I needed one,” said Mal. Where was he supposed to get such a thing? Was this something Zippo could sort out for him? He almost laughed. Of course it wasn’t. His mentor had him firmly in the do-it-yourself school of sponsorship. “Have you got one?” he asked.

  Ernie nodded eagerly. “You can borrow it,” he said. He bounced from foot to foot. “And copy it! Todd can get fancy paper and ink. Mathers can’t tell a cow from a barn door. You’ll get on the ship simple pimple.”

  “Simmer down, lad. You’re getting all ahead of yourself.” Todd laid a hand on Ernie’s shoulder. Ernie jumped.

  “I want to see what I’m working with before I commit,” said Todd. “See who’s packing what. I’ve got my guesses… but it’s up to you to show me!” His eyes darted to Malcolm. “So, what did you get in the end? Up to speed? Sharped up? Bloodied up? That’d be good!”

  Nev growled.

  “Banged up? All burned up? Come on– what skill you got to cheer me up with, Mal?”

  “I’ve got this!” shouted Ernie. In one smooth move, he pulled off his left ear and waved it proudly under Todd’s nose. Mal forgot his dilemma and peered curiously at the side of Ernie’s head. The skin was smooth, as flat as if the ear had never been there. “Lend me your ears!” squealed Ernie. “I’m the best spy on the island!”

  Nev tutted.

  “I can do this an’ all! Watch!”

  “Ernie, wait!” shouted Mal. As much as he wanted out of the spotlight, it wasn’t right to spill skills in the open. You never knew who might be listening. He was too late. Ernie pressed his ear back onto the side of his head. Then, he scratched at it like a dog with fleas.

  “Does it hurt?” asked Mal. The whole procedure was fascinating. Imagine being able to remove parts of your body so easily? It trumped his Butter up by a country mile! Why did he have to get the useless, boring skill instead of something cool and –

  Ernie stopped scratching and threw something into the grass. The others peered down.

  “Ewww! That’s disgusting.” Nev backed away.

  “Is that your ear wax?” asked Mal. He didn’t know whether to be revolted or impressed. The thing was the size of his palm!

  Ernie dove to his knees, patting the grass down where the globule had landed. “Just you wait. You’ll see!”

  “What even is that?” Todd looked faintly disgusted. He knew the miner’s son had a spying skill, but this looked like something else entirely. The brownish-black blob bubbled as if hot.

  “What’s it doing, now?”

  “Hardening up,” said Ernie. “It takes a minute, but watch!”

  One by one, six shiny protuberances burst from the blob. The now armour-like casing cracked and something bulged out. Eyes! Eyes that glowed with eldritch light. Suddenly gifted with vision, the thing unfolded two long, powerful hind legs and shook itself.

  “Flea in your ear!” Ernie almost sang with delight. “I’m specialisin’! Brilliant isn’t it! It can attack too… to protect me, you know!”

  “Yeah!” said Mal, eyes wide. “Yeah, its great! Wow! Well done, Ern.

  “You can put it away now!” said Todd.

  Ernie gazed up, desperate to please his potential team leader. “But you’ve not seen what it can do yet. It’s not finished growing!” Below the glowing eyes, a crack snaked across the shining shell. The flea slashed at the air with its new proboscis. “It can suck out all your –“

  “We know!” Nev leapt for the oak tree and began to climb.

  “It’s great!” yelled Mal. “Really, really great. Send it back, Ernie. Get it away!”

  “You’re through to the next round! Now get rid of the f-ing thing!” yelled Todd.

  With a whoop of joy, Ernie clapped his hands to his ear. The air snapped, and the monstrous flea disappeared.

  “I knew you’d be impressed with Fred,” said Ernie. “You are impressed, aren’t you Todd?” He threw the older boy an anxious look.

  Todd gave a white-lipped nod.

  “Er…Fred then, is it?” asked Mal.

  “Yeah! I called him that. He’s my attribute, see.”

  Mal nodded and slumped back against the tree, willing his heartrate to return to normal.

  “How many rounds are we having for the team then, Todd?” asked Ernie. He was back on the branch, his heels kicking a rhythm against the trunk.

  “That depends,” said Todd. “Most successful archive teams don’t have more than four members. No one wants to split the spoils too thin.” He rubbed his hands together. The idea of winning had brought the colour back to his cheeks. “Four well-skilled members, of course.” He narrowed his eyes at Mal. “Young Ernie has proved himself alright, but I don’t know what you and Nev can do yet.” He folded his arms.

  Malcolm’s heart plummeted. This was where it all fell apart. He couldn’t expect Todd to let him into the team with no proof of what he could do. Well, their prospective team leader was going to be absolutely thrilled when Malcolm… complimented him.

  “My turn!” Nev’s voice sang out from somewhere amongst the leaves. She was so far up the tree, Mal could only see her heels. She laughed. “All you slowpokes need to do is tag me! If you do, I forfeit my place on the team.”

  “Yes! Get in there!” Ernie sprang onto the branch and began climbing. Todd watched, his mind working overtime.

  “Don’t you worry, Todd,” Nev laughed. “I’ll even make it easy for you. I won’t leave this tree – swear down.”

  Todd grinned and reached for the first branch. Malcolm sent up a silent thanks. Whatever Nev’s skill might be, it had to involve impeccable timing!