by Kobe Bryant
Pretia took a deep breath, preparing to fill her friend in. “Vera, you’re not going to believe this. My parents forbade me to come, but I consulted my Grana Book.”
“And it told you to run away?” Vera sounded incredulous.
“Sort of,” Pretia said. “You know how Grana Books work. There was an image of a road running between two mountains. I am the road. The mountains are my parents. The road meant movement, escape. It meant running. And running means sports. So I had to come.” She paused. “I wanted to come more than anything in the world. I know my parents are going to be furious. But there’s nothing they can do now that I’m on the ship.” Pretia paused again. “At least I think there isn’t.”
“Why didn’t they want you to come?” Vera asked.
Pretia explained how the king and queen worried about her making the Junior Epic Squad and the potential danger that lay in wait for her in Phoenis.
“Danger!” Vera scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Four years ago, I went to watch Julius at the games in Mount Oly, and there were guards everywhere. It was the safest place in Epoca.”
“That was the year Julius won eight medals!” Rovi exclaimed.
“Don’t sound so impressed,” Vera said. “I’m going to top that. In fact, I’m going to set the new record for the most Junior Epic Medals.”
“If you break your brother’s record, that would be epic,” Pretia said.
“My brother doesn’t hold the record,” Vera said.
Rovi and Pretia exchanged a look. It was a well-known fact that Julius Renovo was the most decorated Junior Epic Athlete of all time, breaking a record once held by Janos Praxis himself.
“Listen,” Vera said, “I spent all summer reading up on Junior Epic history.”
“Of course you did,” Rovi said.
“Well, that and training,” Vera added. “Just because it’s summer, you can’t let up.”
Pretia tried not to laugh.
“When I wasn’t training, I did a lot of reading on the Junior Epic Games. I always thought that Julius had won the most Junior Epic Medals. But that’s not true. There was someone else: Farnaka Stellus.”
“That’s a funny name,” Pretia said.
“It’s a Sandlander name,” Rovi corrected her.
“Anyway,” Vera prattled on, “this Farnaka Stellus turns out to have won more medals than Julius. Julius won eight, but Farnaka won nine.” She looked from Rovi to Pretia. “Nine!” Vera repeated. “Can you believe that?”
“Seems like a lot,” Pretia said.
“Totally,” Rovi added, trying to match Vera’s enthusiasm. The wind had picked up as they sailed away from the port. He gripped the railing of the ship when it dipped into the furrow of a wave. Some of his classmates whooped with delight while the boat rocked and swayed.
“It is a lot,” Vera continued. “But not unattainable. I’m going to break Farnaka’s record. Most of his medals came on the field, but three were in the pool.” Vera began to list events so quickly that Rovi couldn’t keep up. “Maybe I won’t do the exact same events. But I’m going to get the same number of medals or more.”
“You’ll have to be chosen first.” The kids looked up to see that Nassos and Myra, two of the Realists in their class, had joined them at the railing. Myra looked as if she’d grown a foot over the summer and towered over Pretia and Vera.
“Luckily you’re a Dreamer, so you have a better shot,” Myra said. “It’s less competitive for you guys.”
“You know,” Vera said, “historically, Dreamers hold the edge in the Junior Epic Games. In fact, House Somni has won eighty-five more Junior Epic Medals than House Relia. And Dreamers and Realists have a pretty much equal chance of making the team overall.”
“Dork,” Nassos said.
“Being a Junior Epic Athlete isn’t just about competing. It’s also about knowing your history,” Vera retorted.
“I don’t think history is going to help you win medals,” Myra said.
“You never know,” Vera replied. “After all, several of the best Junior Epic Champions went on to become leaders of state and—” Before she could finish, Myra and Nassos walked off. “Well, clearly they aren’t going to break Farnaka’s record,” Vera said as she watched them go. “But when I—”
“We get it, Vera,” Rovi said.
“When I win those medals,” Vera continued, determined, “I’m not going to be forgotten like Farnaka Stellus was.”
The boat dipped again, knocking the kids into one another.
“You haven’t forgotten him,” Pretia said. “Obviously.”
Before Vera could tell them any more about her new obsession, Janos’s whistle sounded across the deck. Immediately the boat was filled with the clamor of kids rushing to gather before their Head Trainer. Rovi surveyed his classmates. Like Myra, several of them had sprouted over the summer. Others looked stronger and more mature. He wondered if he had changed without noticing it in himself.
Janos blew his whistle again to summon a straggler—Leo Apama had become entangled in a coil of rope as he’d tried to cross the deck. “Leo,” Janos said, “this is an inauspicious start to your return to Ecrof.”
“Sorry,” Leo muttered.
“I’d imagine that this year would be of exceptional importance to you, Leo.”
Leo stared at the Head Trainer blankly. The ship hit a wave. Leo toppled forward.
“Or perhaps you don’t care about being selected for the Junior Epic Squad and representing your school and your house in your home city?”
“The Junior Epic Games are in Phoenis this year?” Leo said, his voice an excited squeak.
Janos clapped his powerful hands. “Indeed!”
A ripple of excitement ran through the kids as they took in this information.
“But before you get ahead of yourselves, keep in mind that this year, you return to Ecrof with knowledge, and with knowledge comes responsibility to yourselves, your houses, and your teammates. You are no longer recruits, but second-year students.”
Virgil’s hand shot in the air. “That means we can use the pool!”
“Among other things,” Janos said. “You will learn more about this school year during the Placement Ceremony. Our first term will be different from last year’s because of the Junior Epic Squad trials. Training for trials will start soon. So enjoy this ride. It will be one of your last leisurely days.” And with that, he left them.
Everyone started talking at once. Leo was babbling most furiously of all. “I can’t believe it’s Phoenis. It’s the best place in Epoca.”
“It’s lucky you live there, then,” Castor said.
“Why?” Leo asked.
“Because you’ve already seen it. And there’s no way you’re making our team.” Castor and Nassos slapped hands.
Leo frowned at him.
“We’ll see what happens,” Leo said. “No matter what, I bet Phoenis is going to host the most incredible Junior Epic Games ever. The city is amazing.”
“Yeah?” snapped Cyril, a Dreamer from the Rhodan Islands who had an islander’s dislike for the Sandlands. “How is it so amazing? Isn’t it just a big, hot desert?”
“Well,” Rovi began, since he, too, had lived in Phoenis. But Leo cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“First of all, there’s the Tile Palace, which is completely covered in bits of mirror and tile and glows at sunrise and sunset. Then there’s the smaller Moon Palace at the edge of the desert. That one glows white.”
“There’s also the Alexandrine Market,” Rovi said.
Leo looked at him. “The Alexandrine Market?”
“Yeah,” Rovi said. “People travel from all over the Sandlands to buy and sell there. It’s the biggest in the land.”
“No one wants to visit a dirty market when they can visit the Royal Baths, the Cres
cent Stadium, and the Temple of Arsama, a tomb for all the ancient rulers of Phoenis.”
Rovi stepped back from the group. The places Leo had listed were indeed the most wondrous in Phoenis, or so he’d heard. But all of them were strictly off-limits to Star Stealers, and except for his one misadventure in the Royal Baths, when he’d challenged a Realist boy on the diving board, he’d never visited any of them.
“What’s the Temple of Arsama?” Adira asked, her headscarf flapping in the light wind.
Leo puffed out his chest, happy to be the center of attention. “The Temple of Arsama is one of the holiest sites in the Sandlands. It stands at the center of Phoenis, at the base of a great pyramid that rises higher than even the Tile Palace. It’s where the most famous Sandlander kings and queens from the time of the gods are buried. All their treasure is down there, too, as well as some treasure that our current nobles want to keep safe.”
“They keep their treasure in an old tomb?” Virgil asked.
“It’s the safest place in Phoenis,” Leo continued. “But the Moon Palace is my favorite. It stands alone out at the edge of the desert and—”
Rovi slipped away before he had to hear any more. His Phoenis was not the Phoenis that belonged to boys like Leo. They never came down into the Lower City. They never dangled their feet into the river Durna. They never slept under the Draman Bridge or were chased by the guards in the Alexandrine Market. Boys like Leo lived a finer life, filled with comforts Star Stealers couldn’t even dream of. Boys like Leo belonged to a totally different, more refined Phoenis. Rovi wondered which city he’d see when he returned.
He wondered where he belonged now.
5
PRETIA
A RETURN
The next morning, Pretia leaned over the ship’s railing, letting the salt spray sting her face. She opened her mouth, and the wind flooded in. The early-dawn sun glowed pink and orange on the horizon back toward the mainland. She took a deep breath, as if she could swallow the air and sea. She wanted to feel more free than she did. But she couldn’t shake the worry that her parents would send someone after her, even though they said it was impossible. They were the king and queen. Surely they would try something. Her eyes scanned the lapis water for a boat filled with royal guards, a caravan come to return her to her parents. But the Ecrof boat was alone on the rolling waves.
No matter how confident she was in her decision to return to Ecrof, she had defied her parents. She had run away and put sports above Epoca and above family. No doubt there would be consequences. Eventually, she suspected, she would have to pay the price for what she had done.
“You’re nervous, Pretia.”
While she had been looking the other way, Janos had joined her at the railing.
“Should I have left them a note? That was careless, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Pretia, you probably should have. But I sent word from the port at Helios that you had stowed away. Your parents know where you are. It’s too late for them to do anything about it,” he added with a wink.
“They are going to be so angry,” Pretia said.
“And with me, too,” Janos said. “I hope you think your decision was worth it.”
“For the chance to be a Junior Epic? Definitely.”
“You will have to confront them at some point. You know that, don’t you?”
Pretia couldn’t meet her uncle’s eye. “I know,” she said quietly. The thought made her cringe.
“Spend the next months figuring out how you will handle that when it happens. And training your hardest so that you have something to show for your disobedience.” He ruffled her hair. Pretia glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone had witnessed the familial gesture. But they were alone on deck.
When Janos left, Pretia closed her eyes so she could sink into the feeling of the boat cutting through the waves. She took several more deep breaths, reassuring herself she had done the right thing. But something deep inside her kept nagging—her motivation for running away had been selfish. Janos had been talking about what was best for Epoca. But she knew she’d done it for herself, not for Epoca. Still, she wouldn’t admit that to anyone else.
When she opened her eyes, this last anxiety flew from her mind. In front of her was majestic Cora Island, rising from the sea. How could she not have come? How could she have missed returning to school and to this wondrous place, which she loved better than anywhere else in the world?
Cora Island was even more beautiful than Pretia remembered—the towering cliffs, the sparkling blue water, the white sands. As the small boats rowed her and her classmates to shore, between the ancient gates that loomed over the harbor, she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering toward the cave that once led to the fallen Temple of Hurell. To her surprise, the cave opening was no longer there. Boulders had fallen, filling the entrance. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Once on shore, Janos directed the second years to the far end of the beach. “You’ll find the stairs to campus right behind that jetty,” he said, pointing across a line of rocks that led from the beach into the water.
“Stairs?” Adira asked.
“Unless you prefer the long climb like the new recruits,” Janos replied.
Adira shook her head and, quick as a shot, headed for the jetty, followed by the rest of the class.
Pretia was stunned. The moment she scrambled over the rocks, she looked up to see a flight of stairs cut into the cliff. How had she overlooked these in her explorations of Ecrof?
The climb was steep, but much easier than last year’s precarious scramble up the goat path. In fifteen minutes, they’d arrived at Cora’s plateau. They didn’t even have to cross the Decision Woods. In fact, they were to the west of the Panathletic Stadium. They could see the TheraCenter and the Halls of Process directly in front of them.
“Wow,” Vera said, “too bad Julius never mentioned these stairs when he shared some of Ecrof’s secrets with me.”
“If we’d taken these stairs last year, there would have been no Placement Ceremony, and you wouldn’t have become a Dreamer,” Rovi said.
“True!” Vera said. “Race you to the Temple of Dreams.” She was poised to tear off in the direction of the Dreamers’ dorms.
“Wait,” Rovi said, pulling her back. “There’s something I want to see first.” He was looking in the direction of the stadium. “The tree.”
Racing could wait. Pretia also wanted to see the tree—one of the Four Marvels of Epoca. She was proud to have saved it last year from being poisoned by the deadly strangler fig that had been turning it sickly black.
“You go, Rovi,” Vera said. “Let us know how it’s doing.” She had her hand on Pretia’s arm, trying to pull her toward the Temple of Dreams.
Rovi had already taken off in the direction of the stadium. Pretia started to follow.
“Pretia, wait,” Vera said.
Pretia turned. “What?”
Vera bit her lip. “Nothing,” she said.
“Race you to the tree, at least?” Pretia urged, then darted after Rovi.
“You’re on,” Vera replied, following.
Pretia and Vera arrived at the center of the stadium just behind Rovi. The Tree of Ecrof stood in the middle of the track, as always. It had sprouted up and out. It was taller, its trunk wider, its leaves shinier and more silver. It seemed to glitter in the perfect sunlight that always graced Cora Island.
“It looks amazing,” Vera said.
“Even better than last year,” Rovi added.
Pretia’s eyes ran up the trunk to the top.
“Want to climb it?” Vera asked.
“No way,” Rovi said. “From now on I’m only admiring the tree from a distance. Last year I had enough of trees to last me a lifetime.”
“But I want to do something,” Vera moaned. “We’ve been cooped up on that ship forever. We’ve lost v
aluable training time.”
“We were only on the ship for one night,” Pretia said. “That’s hardly forever.”
“It is when you’re training to make the Junior Epics,” Vera said. “Every moment counts.”
“We know,” Pretia and Rovi chorused.
* * *
The recruits weren’t set to arrive at Ecrof until the next morning, which gave the second years a day to relax and explore. Adira and Virgil, both divers, went in search of the pool that they hadn’t been allowed to even see their first year. Castor and Myra joined a baseball game that was taking place on the main field.
Rovi busied himself stuffing as many snacks from the vending machines into his mouth as he could.
“Is that how you plan to spend the afternoon?” Vera asked.
“Um, yeah,” Rovi said. “I missed these machines.”
“You missed vending machines?” Pretia said. “I should have told the cooks at Castle Airim you preferred a junk food diet.”
“This isn’t junk food,” Rovi mumbled through a mouthful of Power Snacks. “It’s heaven.”
“Well,” Vera said, retying one of her shoes, “while you two are busy bickering over details, I’m going to train. I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”
“Vera,” Pretia groaned. “We just got here.”
“That attitude didn’t win Farnaka Stellus all those medals,” Vera said. “I guess I’m practicing alone?”
Pretia looked from Vera to Rovi. All she wanted to do was hang out in the Temple of Dreams. But then she thought of what she had risked in coming to Ecrof, and what was at stake. If she didn’t make the Junior Epic Squad—if she didn’t win Junior Epic Glory—all was in vain. She had to make that team. She had to. “I’m coming,” she said.
Vera’s eyes lit up. “Great!” she said. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Pretia checked that her own Grana Gleams were tied tightly. “Cool,” she said. “Catch you later, Rovi.”