by Jeff Rosen
A few kids groaned.
“This should do the trick. Simple device. Nothing can possibly go wrong.”
The major yanked a lever, and the octopus apparatus began to rotate. He gave a cheery thumbs-up to everyone, and an octopus arm grabbed his hand. It began to spin around wildly with him, then shot him straight out of the arena like a cannonball.
“Turn off that blasted gadget!” Pike came running with the stable hands. “And someone find Major Fogg!”
Eventually, they got the disc launcher working, and the trappers began flying around on their orocs, trying to catch them in their snaggers. Caley noticed a boy atop a powerful blue oroc. He had attached a rope to the handle of his snagger that allowed him to whirl it around like a lasso. He was fast and catching a lot of discs. Ithica was also catching a lot. Caley wasn’t. Every time she went for one, someone (usually Ithica) cut her off or thumped into her oroc. In fact, everyone was bumping and banging around like some sort of crazy car rally. It had to be cheating, but Pike didn’t say anything. After about forty-five minutes, he whistled for everyone to stop and counted discs, announcing the totals. The boy with the blue oroc had twelve, and Ithica had ten. They were in the lead.
“Caley Cross … zero,” announced Pike.
Ithica smirked so wide it looked like she might bust her braces.
The parents streamed down from the stands, and everyone stood in animated clusters discussing the trial. Caley began to lead Fearfew back to the stable, passing Lucas, who was with his parents.
“You did very well, dear,” Lucas’s mother was saying. “You tried hard.”
“He caught one,” his father grumbled. “Why sugarcoat it? The boy just isn’t cut out for anything active. Why do you think he’s a bloody plant?”
Lucas glanced around miserably as nearby kids and parents looked away, pretending not to hear. Caley gave a sympathetic smile to Lucas as he trudged off after his parents. She knew what it felt like to be humiliated (*see Caley’s life). She felt pretty humiliated herself since she had come in dead last.
“Hullo.”
Caley turned, surprised to see the boy with the blue oroc walking lankily toward her.
“I never caught any my first day of trials either,” said the boy. “Too nervous.”
He removed his helmet. He had short, dark, curly hair and an easy smile. Caley thought she recognized him from Bee-Me, but she wasn’t sure. For some reason, her face felt flushed. Maybe she had overheated in her armor. Might be heat rash. Or hives. Diphtheria?
“Ferren.” The boy held out his hand to shake.
“Caley.”
“I’m always nervous at trials,” the boy went on. “The thing to remember is that so is everyone else. And don’t let them knock you around.”
“Doesn’t seem fair.”
“All’s fair in the Equidium. Think venowasps fight fair? They’d just as soon sting you in the back. You’re fast. Handle your oroc well. But there’s more to being a good trapper.”
“Like what?”
“You need to fight back.”
“Fight back?” Caley repeated. That would be a first.
“Ferren!”
They turned to see Ithica beelining over with her parents in tow. Caley could tell right away they were Ithica’s parents because they had the same perma-puke expressions as her that seemed to scream, I’m richer than you; I’m royal-er than you. Now crawl off and die.
“You know my parents, of course, the duke and duchess,” Ithica twittered to Ferren in the bilious bird-song voice she used whenever she was particularly pleased with herself (almost always).
Another woman in a tall tiara and too much eye shadow that made her look like a hungry magpie inserted herself into the middle of the group, beaming at the Blights.
“Isn’t it marvelous our children are competing together? A chance for our families to become even closer!”
Ferren looked uneasy. “This is my mom,” he told Caley.
Ithica pointed at Caley to her parents. “That’s the earthling I’ve been telling you about.”
Ithica’s parents gave Caley a small, stiff nod and marched off. It was pretty clear what Ithica had been telling them (nasty, horrible stuff).
“Ta-ta, dear parents.” Ithica limp-fish waved at the Blights.
“Shall we all go for tea?” Ferren’s mother asked as she followed fawningly after them.
“I didn’t know you were that Caley,” Ferren told Caley. “I normally bow to princesses.”
“Please don’t,” insisted a blushing Caley.
Ithica wheeled from her departing parents and wedged herself in between Ferren and Caley like Caley wasn’t there at all.
“A few of us are getting together for a little trials kick-off soiree in my rooms after dinner.” Her smile evaporated as she eyed Caley. “Invitation only.”
“I need to regrip my snagger,” replied Ferren. “Enjoy your ‘soiree.’”
He gave a sweeping, over-the-top bow to Caley, winked, and sauntered off.
“Come by later if you can!” Ithica called frantically after him.
The Pingintees plodded up, gazing moonily at Ferren.
“I don’t think he wants to,” said Pansy.
“It doesn’t take that long to re-grip a snagger,” added Petunia.
“Morons.” Ithica glared at her cousins and race-walked to catch up to Ferren.
“Can we still come to the soiree?” Pansy called after her.
“What’s a ‘soiree’?” Petunia scratched her ponderous pink head.
“Moron. It’s a place you go and swear at commoners,” replied Pansy, clumping off with her cousin.
“What did A Bit Glitchhi want?” Kip had wandered over, staring over at Ithica.
“To make everyone’s skin crawl?” Caley shrugged.
“There’s my mom.” Kip waved at a pleasant-faced roundish woman wearing an overcoat that seemed to be sewn from a field of wildflowers. She hugged Kip and gave him a kiss, leaving a big red lipstick smear on his cheek.
“That was exciting today, dear. Well done.”
“Thanks. Mom, this is Caley.”
“Princess Caley.” Kip’s mom curtsied to her. “I’m Mary Gorsebrooke. Kipley can’t stop talking about you.”
Caley noticed that now both Kip’s cheeks looked like they had lipstick on them.
“Your father sends his love. I’d better be getting back to put dinner on. Kipley, are you catching a cold? Your face is bright red. Princess Caley, I hope to see you again soon.”
Mrs. Gorsebrooke curtsied to Caley again and headed off.
“Didn’t know you knew Ferren Quik.” Kip nodded over at Ferren heading into the tunnel with Ithica.
“I don’t. We just met. He’s trying out for trapper too.”
“Almost won it for the Cheetahs last year. Tracker let him down. How did you do today?”
Caley eyed Ithica and Ferren disappearing together into the tunnel.
“I think … I need to fight back.”
THE second day of trials was almost over, and when Caley looked in her snagger, it was empty again. She had never hit or bumped (or barely talked back to anyone) her whole life and couldn’t seem to start now, even against Ithica, who kept slamming into her and stealing any disc that came close. When Commander Pike blew the whistle, Ferren was in first place, followed by Ithica. Caley was solidly last. Pike announced that tomorrow, Friday, was the final day of trials, and that if anyone hoped to make a team, they had better give it their best shot.
Back in the stable, Caley yanked her helmet off and handed it to Neive.
“One more day. I wish it were over.”
“No luck?”
The girls turned to see Ferren sauntering over.
Caley’s face felt flushed again.
Definitely diphtheria.
“So what’s the game plan for tomorrow?” asked Ferren.
“No plan. I’m not a fighter.”
“Me either. That’s why I let my anim
al nature do the work.”
“Animal nature?”
“My baest. You need to use its energy. It’s the only way to win. Mine’s a panther. Fast reflexes. Also, quite aggressive when it goes after its prey.”
Ferren fixed his dark eyes on Caley, and she had to look away before the diphtheria completely melted her face.
“I don’t think I want to use my baest,” said Caley, staring at her riding boots. “It’s … pretty wild.”
“The wilder the better, Your Highness.” Ferren made another ridiculously elaborate bow to Caley and headed off, giving Neive a little swooping bow as well.
Caley noticed Ithica staring at her. The look Ithica gave her seemed even more murderous than usual.
NEIVE escorted Caley back to her rooms, grinning nonstop.
“OK, what’s so funny?” Caley asked.
“Ferren Quik.”
“What about him?”
“Tall, dark, handsome. Perfect name too: ‘Quik.’ He moves fast.”
“He’s just trying to help me.”
“Or your ‘animal nature.’” Neive was still grinning.
“He’s not interested in me like that,” Caley insisted.
“He’s supposedly going out with Ithica Blight. At least that’s what it says on her Bee-Me.”
Caley’s brow furrowed.
“What if I did use it?”
“Use what?” said Neive.
“My baest. I mean, shouldn’t I at least know how? What if it just pops out, or whatever, and then, you know …”
“Eats the planet?” Neive frowned. “Kip is exaggerating. I hope …”
“But maybe I should talk to Master Aramund. I wouldn’t tell him about me being a you-know-what.”
“Just be careful,” Neive cautioned.
CALEY knocked on the door to Aramund’s class. No reply. She was about to head off when the door swung open by itself. The jungle was there, but she couldn’t make out much because a dense white smoke hung over everything. She was thinking Aramund must have left for the day when she spotted him, in his peacock robe and cap, hunched over a fire. He rose and bowed to her, gesturing for her to sit beside him.
“You have come to me about your baest.”
Caley’s eyes drifted to the stone fire pit, which was carved with ghostly animals. Aramund stared into the smoke of the fire intently, as if watching an invisible play.
“Here we reveal what is hidden within us. The spirit realm.”
Caley could hear Aramund’s voice, but he had disappeared into the smoke. The smoke formed an image of the Wandering Woods, the moaning bone trees reaching into the purple sky like skeleton hands through the frozen fog. Seeing it again made Caley shiver.
“But … you’ve been in the Wandering Woods,” said Aramund in an astonished tone. “You must tell me—which baest did you receive?”
His voice seemed to be hypnotizing her. Caley’s body began to feel strangely weightless, drifting like the smoke images.
“Don’t you know?” she asked.
From the smoke, a shape began to materialize … every bad dream forming into the shape of Caley’s darkest imagination … the athrucruth!
“A mouse!” Caley managed to gasp. “Just a mouse.”
The smoke vanished into a wisp. Aramund was gazing at her with a vexed expression.
“A mouse,” he finally said, nodding.
“I came to ask you … how do I control it?”
“Your baest is your deepest nature,” Aramund replied. “It is what drew it to you to form the Unbreakable Bond. You can summon it anytime, but beware. To tame it, you must tame yourself. There are those who become seduced by its power and are consumed like a fire consumes its fuel … leaving only ash.”
The fire sputtered. The smoke turned black and formed into one of the mechanical wolves from the nightmarish factory in the woods. Caley noticed that Aramund’s expression had turned as black as the smoke.
“Soon, we must all choose … which nature will rule us?”
Aramund turned from the fire, bowed to Caley, and walked into the jungle.
•
“I think Aramund knows about my baest,” Caley told Neive as she climbed into her armor.
It was the final day of trials, and the mood was tense. The usual jokey buzz had given way to a kind of grim seriousness. Caley took a sip of fearfew tea and headed out from the changing room with Neive.
“Can you trust him?” Neive asked.
“Trust who?” Kip was waiting outside the changing room.
“I went to see Master Aramund,” said Caley, her voice hushed.
“About your athrucruth?” Kip blurted out.
“Stop saying that!” hissed Neive.
“Might be good to do more than say it,” said Kip. “The Cheetahs would definitely win with a you-know-what.”
They noticed Ithica Blight with Ferren Quik. Ferren saw Caley and looked like he was going to head over when Ithica grabbed him by the arm and led him off, grinning and chattering at him like she had just adopted a puppy.
Caley turned and walked back to her locker, grabbed the jar of fearfew tea, and took another sip … a very long sip.
MAJOR Fogg started the octopus disc launcher, and the trappers urged their orocs into the bright blue autumn sky. The discs started zipping around, and everyone began banging and bumping. The coaches were watching everyone (well, almost everyone … they’d stopped watching Caley the first day).
A disc zipped by Caley’s head, and she steered Fearfew after it, flicking out her snagger. She almost caught it when … WHAM! Something hit Fearfew. Caley grabbed his neck and just managed to hang on.
It was Ithica, of course.
Ithica crashed her oroc into Fearfew again, and he shrieked. One of his wings was crumpled a bit, like a paper lantern. He landed, shook it out, and pawed the ground, furious. Caley felt a red-hot stab across her body as if she had been wounded too. She stared up at Ithica, who leered at her and flew off. The sky suddenly grew dark with storm clouds, and it began to pour, black sheets—black as Caley’s anger. Lightning ripped across the arena, and with it, a shock-current filled her body with something she had never felt before: a feeling of raw, furious power. A word came to Caley, unexpected as the sudden storm. She didn’t need to speak it—Fearfew sensed it and bolted back into the air, then dropped so rapidly Caley’s stomach was in her throat. Ithica was about to grab a disc when Caley flew past, whipping her snagger violently. It snapped Ithica’s snagger in half, and her helmet popped off with the impact. Ithica stared at it, stunned like it was her own head tumbling to the ground.
Caley arced Fearfew around, her eyes fixed on Ithica, and spoke the word out loud.
“Attack.”
It was as if everyone were moving in slow motion. The world was a blur yet very still at the same time. Caley flew Fearfew into Ithica, nearly knocking her off her oroc, then began hammering into the other players, catching every disc, her snagger a streak in her hand. All anyone else could do was try to hang onto their orocs or just fall off limply in her wake, like rag dolls.
After an instant (but it could have been an hour), Pike’s whistle blew and the discs stopped flying. The next thing she knew, Caley was standing beside Fearfew, his muzzle flecked with foam, his chest heaving. She hauled off her helmet and stared around. The other trappers were slumped in the mud or leaning against their orocs in the pounding rain, looking a bit like drowned rats. The coaches regarded Caley with a surprised expression and scribbled something in their clipboards. Caley looked down at her snagger.
It was full.
Ithica was being helped out of the arena by the Pingintees. Her armor looked like it had been in a car crash, and her fancy gold saddle with the ridiculous family crest was covered in mud. Ithica turned to Caley with a look Caley had never seen on her face before: fear.
“Impressive.” Ferren was walking toward Caley, shaking mud from his hands. “You might have beaten my record, but Pike blew the whistle. Looks like
you found that animal nature of yours.”
Over Ferren’s shoulder, Caley saw Ithica disappear into the tunnel. Whatever happened, that look on her face almost made the whole miserable trials worthwhile.
And that dark, electrifying feeling of power.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One Day
“Was it the you-know-what?” asked Neive.
“I think so.” Caley nodded.
After the trials, all Caley wanted to do was bury herself in her rooms and hide from everyone and everything to do with the Equidium. Neive ordered snacks, and a parade of servants began delivering pastries and fruit on silver trays. Caley regarded the mounds of treats but didn’t feel hungry. There was a deep unsettled sensation in her body, like some sort of wild animal had made a nest in it, rearranging everything.
Kip suddenly burst in. “They post the teams Sunday!” He helped himself to some lemon tarts. “But try not to think about it.”
“That’s exactly what Caley is doing,” said Neive. “And please, come right in without knocking and help yourself to anything you see.”
“What happened with you?” Kip asked Caley. “I saw you banging everyone around. Was it the athrucruth?”
A few servants eyed them nervously.
“Thank you for visiting Her Highness.” Neive began herding Kip toward the door. “It would be most excellent if you could leave now.”
“Oh, I almost forgot the reason I came by.” Kip squirmed free from Neive and turned back to Caley. “My parents want to invite you for the holiday this weekend.”
“Holiday?”
“One Day. Don’t you have it on Earth?”
“I’ve never even had a holiday.”
“Anyway, Mom’s making a pudding.”
“Can Neive come?”
“It’s not a large pudding,” added Kip.
“I don’t want to go,” said Neive.
Kip grabbed another tart on his way out. “It’ll help take your mind off the teams—” He craned back at Caley before Neive slammed the door in his face.
Neive turned to Caley. “Kipley Gorsebrooke—”
“Is the densest boy in Erinath. I know.” Caley nodded. “But he is trying to look out for me. He walks me to class every day.”