by Jeff Rosen
Mr. Gorsebrooke closed the book, took off his glasses, and turned to Caley.
“That is the history I taught before General Roon replaced it with the speciest version he believes—in which baests are our ancient enemies and we are again under attack.”
Caley, Neive, and Kip exchanged a wordless look.
Mr. Gorsebrooke rose to put the book away. “They made me stop teaching, but you can’t keep a Gorsebrooke on a leash.”
“Born rebels,” Kip agreed.
“What do you believe?” asked Caley.
Mr. Gorsebrooke’s fingers lingered on the spine of the book a moment before he pushed it into place on the shelf and turned to them.
“The interesting thing about history is that it has a habit of repeating itself until its lesson is learned. In this case, I believe … dark days are ahead.”
“And I believe you better help me set out more food if you don’t want our guests going home hungry, Mr. G.”
Mrs. Gorsebrooke was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. Everyone made their way out of the library.
“I’m in the doghouse again,” Mr. Gorsebrooke muttered.
AFTER tea, the Gorsebrookes lined up outside the cottage to say goodbye.
“You must come back soon.” Mrs. Gorsebrooke hugged Caley and Neive. “And please make sure Kip eats properly. He gets distracted by so many things. He has a very active mind.”
“Yes, it’s quite dense.” Neive nodded.
Mrs. Gorsebrooke handed Kip a basket stuffed with snacks “for the journey home,” and everyone waved as Caley, Neive, and Kip set off for the worm station. The Gorsebrookes all shouted, “Happy One Day!” and began howling at the rising moon.
As they walked along the dirt road, Kip was talking nonstop about the Equidium. If he made the team—which he definitely probably would—and won—which he definitely probably would—the Gorsebrooke name would be restored to its former glory and his dad might even be able to go back to the academy. Which would make his mom happy because she was pretty tired of his dad ranting about government plots all the time.
“I think you’ll make it,” Neive said to him.
Kip regarded her like he was waiting for her to say something sarcastic, but Neive just nodded reassuringly.
“Thanks,” Kip said, breaking into a hopeful smile.
As for Caley, she was thinking about what Mrs. Gorsebrooke had told her. What had caused her mother to leave? She had the growing feeling that whatever it was, it had something to do with Olpheist.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Warm-ups
As soon they got back from the Gorsebrookes, Kip made a beeline for the dining hall. “How can he be hungry again?” Neive held her stomach and groaned at Caley.
But for once, Kip wasn’t thinking about food. There was a nervous knot of kids outside the dining hall, jostling to see the Equidium list Commander Pike had posted. Everyone leaned in for a look, either jumping for joy or slumping off like they’d like to die. Kip squirmed his way through, then let out a loud whoop.
“I MADE IT! I MADE THE TEAM! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”
Kip hugged the nearest person—who happened to be Neive; he instantly let her go when he saw who it was, hugged her again anyway, then turned to Caley, grinning from ear to ear.
“And so did you!”
Caley squeezed her way to the list. She saw Kip’s name under the House Cross Cheetahs, along with Ferren Quik, who had been named captain. Her name wasn’t on it.
“Ferren Quik is the trapper.” Caley turned to Kip, puzzled.
“At the bottom,” Kip said, pointing at the list.
Caley noticed another group titled “Substitutes.” Under the Cheetahs’ team, she saw her name.
“I’m a substitute?”
“Every player has a sub. If someone drops out or gets injured or something, you’re in. You train with the team and everything. You’ll be a lock to make it next year!”
“Congratulations.”
Caley turned to see Ferren smiling at her.
“You’re my captain’s pick. Each team gets one. Don’t let me down, teammate.”
Ferren gave her a pat on the back.
“I won’t let you down either,” said Kip, smacking Ferren heartily on his back. “Teammate!”
Ferren—who had almost been knocked over by Kip’s enthusiastic smack—gave him a thumbs-up and sauntered off.
Kip turned back to Caley. “We need nicknames.”
“Nicknames?”
“All the players have them. I’m thinking ‘K-Dog’ because, you know, I’m part dog, and ‘K’ for ‘Kip.’ What would yours be?”
“How about ‘World Swallower’?” suggested Caley.
Kip regarded her thoughtfully.
“She’s kidding, Kip,” said Neive.
AFTER the teams were announced, a kind of Equidium fever gripped the castle. Everyone wore team scarves, and Bee-Me buzzed with photos of their favorite players. Caley noticed a lot of girls had Ferren Quik as their screen savers—even if they weren’t Cheetahs fans. In science, Caley’s class decorated their planets in their favorite team’s colors. Lucas Mancini (Cheetahs: red and gold) put his planet in a bed of ice so the leaves all started to change from summer to autumn colors, which Caley thought was pretty clever. Ithica Blight (Bazkûls: black and blue) dyed her oceans those colors, which made her planet look like it had a giant bruise. There was endless intense discussion about the weather. The queen venowasp left her nest to breed at first frost, and the nights were getting colder.
Practice began after class that Wednesday, and the coaches joined their teams. A big blubbery man in a starched military uniform with tusk-teeth and whopping whiskers that looked like a cat had landed on his lips waddled toward the Cheetahs’ squad.
“It’s old ‘blood and tusks,’” groaned Kip. “He’s been the Cheetahs’ coach forever.”
The walrus-like coach cleared his throat loudly—the sound was like a bathtub draining—and fixed everyone with a steely stare.
“I am Sergeant Major Mandrake. I am here to train you for the Equidium. Although nothing can prepare you for what is to come. Death! It stares you in the face! All you can do is stare back and say, ‘Dismember me, disembowel me, disintegrate every drop of me, I am ready for the ultimate sacrifice!’”
“Real motivator.” Kip winced.
Mandrake’s gaze fell on Caley.
“Who are you?”
“Caley Cross.”
“You’re that princess from another world.” He stared at Caley as if he had just spotted a two-headed goat.
“I’m only a princess on this world,” replied Caley.
She wasn’t trying to be funny, but a few of the other players chuckled.
“I’ve heard about earthlings.” Mandrake’s nostrils made an unimpressed snorting sound. “Animal killers. I’m watching you.” He ordered everyone to start warming up and waddled off to sit in the shade.
Ferren turned to Caley. “Coach is old-school. He’ll change his tune once he sees how good you are. But you need to work on your technique. Let’s start with your grip.”
Ferren took Caley’s hand to show her how to hold her snagger properly. Caley felt her face get hot, the way it did whenever he was around.
There were several bright flashes, and she noticed a throng of reporters with bees taking pictures of them. Caley instantly jerked her hand away.
“Don’t worry about the press,” said Ferren. “And if they ask you anything, just say, ‘There’s no i in team’ and ‘We just need to catch one venowasp at a time.’” He took Caley’s hand again. “Focus on practice, and you’ll be fine.”
FOLLOWING warm-ups, the teams were sorted into squads and began scrimmaging against each other. Mandrake—who seemed to have taken an immediate dislike to Caley—ordered her to fly around on Fearfew pretending to be a venowasp while everyone tried to catch her. Kip kept swooping over and shouting, “Can you believe this? We’re on an Equidium team! It’s a dream come true!” C
aley was thinking it was a good thing none of her dreams ever came true (*see Olpheist, etc.), but if she ever had a decent dream, this wouldn’t be it (pretending to be a venowasp). Fearfew, as always, seemed to sense her mood because he fluttered around like a lost moth, easily getting snagged by one team or the other until Mandrake blew his whistle to end practice for the day.
Caley headed back to the armory after rinsing Fearfew down. A horde of reporters were interviewing players, with bees snapping photos. Ithica Blight had made the Bazkûls as trapper along with the Pingintees, who had been selected as defenders. Ithica was surrounded by reporters, pretending her hardest to look uninterested in all the attention, answering questions in her usual too-bored-to-bother voice.
“We’re going to win, obviously, because I’m the best trapper. People said that as soon as I was chosen for the team.”
“We said that.” Pansy Pingintee nodded dully to the reporters.
“As soon as Princess Ithica told us to,” added Petunia.
A woman with dazzlingly white teeth and slicked-back helmet hair interviewed Kip.
‘‘They call me ‘K-Dog,’” Kip was telling her.
When the woman saw Caley, she practically shoved Kip aside, darting toward her, trailed by a sea of flashing bees.
“Princess Caley!”
The woman seemed so excited that Caley looked around to see if there was another Princess Caley who was actually exciting.
“I’m Trixi Thistlewhip, and I would love to interview you for Trixi Tells. I’m sure you read it.”
She thrust a glossy glowing leaf at Caley. The cover had a photo of Ithica Blight and Ferren Quik with a heart around them and a big question mark in the middle with the headline:
“ROYAL ROMANCE ON THE ROCKS!?”
Before Caley could say anything, Trixi put her arm around her, tugging her so close their cheeks squished and smiling for the bees buzzing frenziedly about their heads. Caley never thought anyone could have so many teeth. Could people in Erinath have sharks for baests?
“We’re here with Princess Caley for a Trixi Tells exclusive! It has been a whirlwind since you arrived,” Trixi trilled without appearing to breathe. “Mystery girl from a faraway world. Future queen and now substitute on the Cheetahs Equidium team. What a journey it must have been from what I understand were humble origins …”
“If by ‘humble,’” Caley replied, feeling a little dazed, “you mean ‘used garbage bags for winter boots …’”
“A delightfully dark sense of humor!” Trixi tittered to the bees. “And that hair. So red! Curls, curls, curls! Do many Earth girls have hair like you?”
“A few … witches?” Caley shrugged.
“Well, you’re certainly a ‘Red Menace.’” Trixi lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Your mother, Queen C, of course, was also shrouded in scandal. Vanished under mysterious circumstances. Would you say you’re a bad girl too? A royal rebel? A puckish princess?”
“A puckish princess?” repeated Caley. What did that even mean?
“And Erinath’s most eligible bachelorette. Anyone in the romantic picture? You’ve been seeing a lot of Prince Ferren.”
Caley glanced—red-faced—over at Ferren, who was also being interviewed.
“There’s no i in team,” Caley said robotically.
“Teammates … and maybe more?” Trixi turned back to the bees. “They were spotted together in the Equidium looking every bit the item!”
“He was just helping me with my snagger,” sputtered Caley. (That sounded weird.) “I mean … we were warming up!” (That didn’t sound any less weird.)
Trixi shark-smiled at the bees. “There you have it, royal watchers, straight from the oroc’s mouth. Trixi tells you things are really heating up in the Equidium!”
Trixi skittered off again, trailed by flashing bees, leaving Caley blinded and breathless.
AS Caley headed across the academy courtyard on her way back from practice, she noticed kids huddled on benches, reading leaves and talking animatedly. They glanced up as Caley passed, and there was a lot of whispering.
“If it isn’t the ‘Red Menace,’” Kip grumbled when he saw Caley.
“What are you talking about?” asked Caley.
Kip thrust a leaf in front of her.
Caley groaned. “Oh no …”
It was a copy of Trixi Tells with the headline:
“EQUIDIUM HEATS UP!”
The front page featured a photo of Ferren holding Caley’s hand with the subtitle: “RED MENACE SNAGS PRINCE CHARMING!” Caley flipped through the leaf, her face getting redder and redder. There were endless pictures of her and Ferren!
“She made all that up,” said Caley. “No one’s … snagging anyone.”
This elicited snickers from nearby kids.
“I don’t care about your stupid royal romance,” Kip fumed. “It’s about the team. You’re being a headline hog.”
“Hogs are not greedy.” Lidia Vowell shook her head. “They have adapted into highly versatile omnivores to survive challenging environments.”
“There are others on the team, too, you know.” Kip flipped the story to a tiny article at the back that included interviews with the rest of the House Cross team, entitled “Princess Caley’s Equidium Posse,” and he pointed to a name. “She called me ‘K-Frog.’”
A few kids made croaking sounds, and Kip crumpled the leaf.
“So long as they got your nickname right, ‘Red Menace.’”
Caley glanced around the courtyard and suddenly realized every single kid was reading the ludicrous leaf. Ithica was staring at her like she wished she could stab her to death with her icicle-eyes.
“I’ll just tell people the truth,” said Caley.
“That would be unwise, Your Highness.”
Duchess Odeli had materialized behind them. Kip almost fell off his bench, he was so startled.
“If I may offer a word of advice, for someone in your position it is preferable to remain above the common fray. Personal feelings are better left to the proletariat. Your best—and only—response is to smile and wave.”
The duchess float-fluttered off again.
“They should make her wear a little bell or something. You could have a heart attack.” Kip regarded the departing duchess, then turned back to Caley. “Anyway, good advice. Smile and wave. Can’t get into trouble with that. But if you do speak to any reporters, maybe you could mention it’s ‘K-Dog.’”
“Kip … that stuff about me and Ferren Quik …”
“Like you said,” said Kip, “all made up. Right? And like the duchess said, you can’t have personal feelings. None of us can. I mean, only because we can’t have any more distractions before Equidium.”
•
UNFORTUNATELY, there was nothing but distractions after that. At Equidium practice the next day, Caley was dismayed to see the stands filled with reporters, all shouting questions at her and Ferren. Bees were flashing everywhere, trying to get pictures of them together.
The team was divided into squads, as usual, battling each other with their fire-swords and lances, with Caley as the venowasp. No one could hear the commands with all the shouting, and a bee flashed right in front of Ferren’s oroc, momentarily blinding it. It collided in midair with someone’s oroc, their wings got tangled, and Ferren was thrown. He sat up, then bent over in obvious pain, clutching his chest.
Coach Mandrake shoved through the players gathering around Ferren and turned to Caley. His tusk-teeth were quivering so much, they looked like they would leap right off his face.
“I warned you, earthling. You’re out!”
“HE can’t just kick you off the team,” said Neive.
Neive, Caley, and Kip were on their way to the infirmary to visit Ferren after dinner.
“Maybe now people will stop making a big fuss,” said Caley. “I never wanted to be on a team in the first place.”
“Then why did you sign up?” asked Kip.
Neive eyed him with her u
sual look (disbelief) as they entered the infirmary. A nurse finished putting a compress on Ferren’s chest.
“Visiting hour is over in five minutes,” the nurse informed them sternly, wheeling a hospital cart away.
Kip gave a wave to Ferren. “There’s been some confusion about my nickname. It’s not ‘K-Frog’—”
Neive butted between Kip and Ferren. “We actually came to see if you were OK.”
“Busted my rib, but I’ll live,” said Ferren. He tried to give a thumbs-up but winced in pain. “Problem is, no one can find Doctor Lemenecky.”
“What are we going to do without a trapper?” asked Kip. “The Equidium is going to happen any day now. There’s freezing temperatures forecast for the weekend.
“We have a trapper.” Ferren was looking at Caley.
“She was kicked off the team,” said Kip.
“Coach Mandrake’s got no choice but to put in the sub,” said Ferren. “It’s that or the Cheetahs forfeit.”
“But I haven’t even practiced,” said Caley. “I’ve been pretending to be a venowasp.”
“You’re as good a trapper as me,” Ferren insisted. “Just do what you did during the last day of trials.”
“I’m not sure I should do that …” said Caley uneasily.
“You mean the you-know-what?” asked Kip.
Neive glared at him warningly, but Kip’s attention was somewhere else, his eyes widening. The others followed his gaze.
There was frost over the windows.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Equidium
When Caley woke up the next morning, a thick layer of frost coated the palace grounds. The flute-flowers blew a shivery reveille, and shrub-monkeys hooted at each other’s frozen goatees. As she made her way to the dining hall, everyone was talking back and forth breathlessly, wearing their team scarves.
The Equidium was starting.
“Caley! Where are you going?”
Kip was hurrying past with the Cheetahs team.
“Breakfast …?” replied Caley.
“No time. We need to get to the arena and suit up.”
“Kip, I’m not on the team, remember?”