from invaders, and clearly Partisan Keep had been built with the same idea in mind. It was probably nothing more than a small hiding chamber barely large enough for two people. Nonetheless, something made Henry push open the panel and step inside.

The hidden chamber was cavernous.

A torch flickered in one of the two holders along the far wall, sputtering its last sparks of light, and in the dim light Henry could make out a cabinet full of weapons.

Not blunt-tipped fencing foils or sabres, but real, true weapons, the kind you saw depicted in gruesome battle scenes on woven tapestries or stained-glass windows. The sorts of weapons that had been illegal for the past hundred years.

On the left wall: burlap-covered mannequins with red targets painted across their chests. And on the right wall a neat row of charts hung from rusty nails. Henry stared at the first chart, marked hand-to-hand combat, reading the list of names, looking for one he knew. There! Volomir Dusseling, the hulking first year who had beaten Rohan in foil fencing, marked as number six.

Number six what? Henry wondered, and then he realized what this place was: he’d found a room that wasn’t supposed to exist—the place where Partisan students were trained in combat!

It was illegal! It was beyond illegal; everyone knew that combat training was forbidden by the statutes of the Longsword Treaty, that so long as no citizens were trained in combat, there would be peace between all countries that had signed the treaty.

And the Nordlands had broken it—this room was definite proof of that.

His heart pounding, Henry tried to think what he should do. He needed proof. One of those lists should work nicely … but did he dare take one?

If he did, it would be instantly obvious that someone knew about the combat training. He could inadvertently start a war.

But would anyone believe him without proof ?

Suddenly, Henry heard footsteps in the corridor, footsteps getting louder.

He pressed himself against the nearest wall, trying not to make a sound. There was a good chance that whoever was coming down the hall would pass right by.

The footsteps stopped, and Henry heard a flurry of furious whispers:

“You’re certain you dinnae remember to lock it?”

“Aye.”

“How could you be so stupid?”

“I thought I heard—”

“Thought you heard what? Knightley students creepin’ up behind ye?”

Cruel laughter.

Henry peered out into the corridor.

Two huge Partisan boys were at the far end, arguing.

And just a meter away from where Henry hid was a staircase. If he could only make it unobserved …

Holding his breath, Henry leaped around the corner and, still barefoot, ran furiously down the staircase.

It was a mystery to Henry how he finally made it back to his sleeping sack, or how he even fell asleep at all, but the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the gray light of early morning and to the other students packing their belongings.

Henry rolled up his sleeping sack, his head fuzzy from lack of sleep. And then the past night came rushing back to him: the combat training, the treaty, and how, in the panic of almost being caught, he had left the room with only his word as proof.

After a breakfast of tasteless porridge, Henry and the other Knightley students weren’t particularly heartbroken to board the train back to their school.

Henry, Adam, and Rohan found an empty compartment, and Henry could hardly wait to tell his friends what he’d discovered.

“You’re being quiet,” Rohan said, narrowing his eyes at Henry. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Oh, sorry.” Henry hadn’t realized he was so obvious. “It’s just, I have something huge to tell you.”

And then the door to their compartment opened.

“Hallo,” Edmund said cheerfully, holding a deck of cards. “Luther’s already fallen back asleep. Mind if I join you?”

Henry gave his friends a desperate look. He couldn’t tell them what he’d found out if Edmund was in their compartment!

Rohan, to his credit, cleared his throat in the awkward silence and said, “Feel free, although I should warn you that I’m having horrible indigestion from the Nordlandic food.” Rohan made a pained face and pressed his hands to his stomach.

Henry recognized the signs that Adam was about to start laughing, so he stamped on Adam’s foot.

“Think I’ll pass, actually,” Edmund said, edging toward the door.

When Edmund had gone, Henry breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he told Rohan.

“Don’t mention it,” Rohan said.

Adam made a farting noise with his mouth against his arm and then burst out laughing.

“Pity there wasn’t a competition in that,” Rohan